Here we go

Cover Art: Jack Wayne

Chapter 91

Thanks to the rather exclusive nature of the tournament, the VIP let him avoid Alexander Nikos and Helena, who might have asked why he was suddenly being so cagey. Sat once more with the Beachcomb family and politely grunting and nodding along to any questions, Jaune supped of his alcoholic beverage and wished it was ten times stronger. Enough to knock him out. The jittery restlessness that had tingled through him ever since he took Amber's power was gone.

As was Amber's power.

The last person he wanted to give it to. Not because he didn't trust her but because he didn't want to put Pyrrha through that again. And because she was in Mistral for crying out loud. In Haven, no less. She was right in Leonardo's grasp, and the bastard was here at this very tournament. He'd thought he had time to deal with him, but if he got even the slightest inkling Pyrrha was the fall maiden… Well, he had to die. Instantly. That news couldn't reach Salem.

What happened? I touched Helena and she was young enough for it to work. He'd felt it too, felt the strange rush that suggested it had been coming out, but since he'd only touched her for the briefest second it didn't stick. I only shook Pyrrha's hand. How was that more?

Physical contact was obviously necessary – but not everything. He'd embraced Helena. In the same way he could touch Amber and steal her power but touch Raven and not, there had to be some mental component to what he'd done here. Had it been thinking about Pyrrha? Had he reminisced for a moment of her being the fall maiden in the previous timeline, and that connected the dots in his head? Did magic work like that?

It was easy looking back to say he should have gone straight to Winter and given her the power. Hindsight was a bitch like that. Now, Pyrrha had it, though there was no telling if she knew or had awakened it. Cinder didn't walk around full maiden all the time, so there had to be some conscious decision to activate it.

There was a chance it'd stay hidden today – but not forever. Haven was a problem. Alexander was a problem. The last Pyrrha was the perfect candidate for Ozpin because she'd cut ties with her past when she joined Beacon. This one hadn't, and he couldn't abduct and drag her to Vale because of what she was. Damn it.

Another huntress down in the ring fell, bringing victory to the remaining, who raised her hand and bowed to the crowd. Polite in victory, she helped her opponent up and away. They were both in their mid-twenties and professional huntresses, but not everyone competing here was. There had already been some punishingly unfair matchups. As one-sided as an adult against a baby. This had been one of the closer ones.

"Who is your money on, Jaune?" George asked. "Would you care for a friendly wager?"

Jaune pulled his eyes away from the competitor stand where Pyrrha sat with the others in view of them all. The distraction was welcome, frankly. "Depends what kind of stakes we're talking about. I don't think Winter would approve of anything too grandiose."

"Oh, I'm not one mix business and pleasure. How about ten thousand to decide the winner?"

"Seems fair." Jaune looked down the long list. "I'll take Samsara"

He didn't know her – had never heard of her in fact – but Qrow revealed how Lionheart had been intentionally feeding bad information to huntsmen in the area to thin their numbers, so it wasn't hard to imagine the woman had died to that. Or retired. The schedule had her aged at twenty-nine, which gave her the most experience of anyone here.

"Hmm. She does seem skilled. Very well. I'll place my fortunes on Julie Verdant." George tapped the schedule to show her. Twenty-seven, huntress. Bright green hair to match her name. "I saw her compete a few weeks ago and she won a local tourney."

Not a bad pick, then. Most professional huntsmen didn't bother with that kind of thing – and that might put them at a disadvantage. Fighting Grimm and another person was a whole different kettle of fish. Everything from how you fought to the techniques you used changed. Betting on someone still active in that scene wasn't a bad choice.

"Join us as well, Terrance," George said.

"I don't know…"

"I'll cover your wager, lad. Don't worry. It's just a little fun."

"Well, okay." The younger boy looked out the window. "I bet on Pyrrha Nikos. She is the Invincible Girl."

He said it almost defensively. A fan, then. Jaune hid his smile, though George saw it and rolled his eyes. Terrance was a little old for her but there was no guarantee it wasn't anything more than hero worship. Pyrrha had been touted across Mistral and even had statues of her.

Apparently, she'd saved a town before entering Beacon – which was both impressive and depressing. For someone who wasn't even in an advanced academy to have to save a town in the first place implied that the local forces were either cripplingly weak or didn't care to help. It was an obvious bet to make. Pyrrha was the `tournament favourite` and anyone who'd seen her fight would know she was leagues above her competition.

That was the problem, though. It was based on her competition.

Pyrrha was incredible, Jaune would never hear anyone say otherwise, but she was incredible for her age. Put her against two, three or even four people her age and she'd defeat them all, as she'd proven time and time again with Team CRDL. They weren't weak; Pyrrha was just that skilled. She was not, however, going to be able to beat someone ten years older than her.

How could she? At seventeen, she had at best seven years training. At twenty-nine, Samsara would have nineteen years training and with eight or nine of those in the field against the worst foes. It was an impossible match-up, but he didn't expect a young boy with little experience in fighting to know that. At least it was his father's money he was losing.

/-/

"Raven didn't know anything."

Ozpin hummed, watching the monitor as two new competitors entered the arena. Qrow came around to see what he was watching and raised an eyebrow.

"Tournament?"

"A curious one," he replied. "Women only. Between the ages of sixteen and thirty."

"Maiden candidates?"

"Yes. Except that I did not arrange it and all the maidens are – or were – accounted for." Amber's death was the one outlier, but they'd only discovered that yesterday when he felt the power move on. Poor Amber. Qrow hadn't even been able to locate her body. He hoped it was a swift and painless end.

"Why would someone arrange a thing like this?" Qrow asked.

"Why indeed. You might expect it if the current maiden was on her deathbed and wished to select a skilled successor, but there are better ways to do so. More than that, who would be seeking to offload theirs? We have the Spring Maiden here in Nora Valkyrie, and James still holds the Winter Maiden."

"Isn't she old?"

"Yes, but James would not do this. It's too obvious. And he would consult me first."

"Leaving only Summer and Fall," Qrow said. "Summer maiden is in Vacuo, and Amber just died. That means someone already had the power. Why host an event like this?"

"Perhaps the new maiden was crippled and they need a replacement for her." Ozpin tossed the idea out, and while it might have made sense, he doubted Salem would entrust such a power to a random individual. Or enlist one in so obvious a fashion. Her greatest strength is in keeping us unaware of who is on her side. This would advertise the victor as a potential traitor. It just didn't make sense. "I'll have to speak with Leonardo," he said. "Ask him why I was not made aware of this and what he is attempting."

"You think something is wrong there?"

"I couldn't say. This could always be a coincidence."

Qrow scoffed. "Pretty lucky one if that's the case. This screams maiden."

"It does, which is why I am keeping an eye on it." Ozpin nodded to the monitor, where another competitor was defeated. "I can't help but think this a distraction. Or perhaps a trap."

"A trap?"

"She would know I would have you investigate the winner."

"Ah. Lure me in and kill me." Qrow sighed. "Yeah, I can see that. Or maybe they thought this would spook you into acting."

"Or that," Ozpin acknowledged. "Draw me to Mistral and attack en route. With Amber dead, I might make a reckless decision if I thought it important. They could be banking on that. Or," he said, "It could be something more. Perhaps someone Leonardo knew inherited the maiden and he wishes someone to act as a red herring. Perhaps he plans to transfer from one person to another." He tapped his fingers on the desk.

"Have you asked him?"

"He has yet to respond to my messages."

Qrow didn't say anything about that. Didn't need to. Leonardo had better have a good explanation of they'd be having words. There's no time for us to be playing our own games. Salem is making her move. She's already killed Amber.

"A war is coming, Qrow. It's time we gather all the forces we can. Give it a day or two and then try Raven again. Impress on her the importance of setting aside grudges."

"Fine." He gritted it out. "Don't expect her to give in easy though. What about Jaune?"

"I will have words with him. Measured words."

"You don't trust him?"

"I trust that he wants the best for his daughter and for his friends, which include you, Summer and Taiyang. I trust he is an enemy of Salem and that this may make him an ally to us. I trust that he will do what he believes is right."

"But you don't trust him."

"There is too much on the line for me to do so. Far too much."

"Hmmm." Qrow refrained from arguing, and Ozpin appreciated that. This had to be bigger than friendship, no matter what he thought of the man. Qrow looked back to the monitor and nodded. "Looks like the Nikos girl is holding her own."

"She's skilled. I'd hoped she might attend Beacon. I know Jaune did as well."

"Guess not everything can work out that easily." Qrow looked to her competitor and sighed. "Samsara? Think I did a job with her once. That's not going to be a fight. Not even close. The girl is good, I admit, but she's what, Yang's age?"

"In her first year of Haven," Ozpin confirmed. "Whereas Miss Samsara graduated years ago. It's like pitting you against Miss Xiao-Long, except that the poor girl has the pressure on her to actually win."

"Mistral," Qrow snorted. "They love this shit."

Ozpin hummed, personally agreeing with the derision but choosing to focus on the bout instead. If nothing else, it might let him glean why Salem or her followers might host such a bizarre tournament in the first place.

/-/

Pyrrha was losing

Gasping for air, she deflected another probing strike from the bladed staff wielding woman opposite her. On the reverse swing, the shaft broke in two, becoming twin short staves that she wielded with extreme grace, keeping one back to defend and pushing Pyrrha away with the second. Her eyes caught an opening.

There!

Ducking under an attack, her sword transformed into a rifle. There wasn't the time to aim but she was close enough to not need it – pushing the weapon into the woman's guard and firing. The shot was clean, but the bullet swerved, literally changing its path mid-air. Tendrils of wind spiralled around it as it did, like the bullet was trying and failing to dig through solid air.

A wind Semblance on top of everything else? Pyrrha sighed, even as the woman roundhouse kicked her away. There wouldn't have been the time to block anyway and she skidded across the floor like a pebble skimmed over a lake.

It was hopeless.

Defeatism wasn't something she was used to, but even she could see this was a lost battle. Samsara was quick, efficient and taking it easy on her to boot! The woman could have run in and ended her there, but she let Pyrrha stand. From anyone on the tournament scene, Pyrrha might have seen that as arrogance, but the huntress looked so uncomfortable that she knew it wasn't. The woman's tanned face was forever drawn into a grimace. There were ten chances to end the fight that she hadn't taken so far.

Her opponent felt guilty, Pyrrha realised. The lump in her throat grew bigger still. This isn't even a real fight to her and she feels awful. The blow to her ego was minor. Why would it be a real fight? This woman was almost twice her age and more than twice her experience. From her point of view, she was an almost thirty-year-old woman picking on a schoolgirl. Samsara was even letting her get a few hits in, probably so she didn't crush Pyrrha's pride too much.

Normally I'd be offended, but I can't even blame her. Is this how my opponents felt against me?

Doubtful. Her opponents at least had the benefit of being her age and having a chance. This… This was like being given a spoon and being told to dig a canal. Given her attacks had shaved off all of two per cent of the woman's aura, it was about as effective. A quick look at her own showed her hovering around forty-five per cent.

"You can surrender, you know," the woman said kindly.

"Sorry." Pyrrha readied herself. "I can't give up."

Samsara sighed. They clashed blades, exchanged blows and Pyrrha took the worst of the exchange yet again. She tried to kick, punch and swing her elbows – anything to get an edge – but the older woman had seen it all before. Knees were deflected. Elbows met forearm. Blades locked, twisted and were pushed aside, and even her subtle use of her Semblance did nothing. Samsara figured it out quickly, or had a vague idea, and now coated her weapons with wind to push through it.

"You're incredible," Samsara said, forcing her back. "I don't mean that lightly. I've met professional huntresses who can't move and fight as well as you do. You should be proud of your hard work."

"T-Thank you." Pyrrha ducked, gasped and blocked a punishing blow with her shield. It still rattled her arm and knocked her back.

"Don't thank me for stating the truth. You've earned it. Still, I hope you don't judge yourself too harshly for this. Or me," she added. "I don't like beating up on someone your age either, but I need the money for a deposit on a house."

So polite. Pyrrha laughed, barely avoiding having her teeth knocked out. Her counterattack was caught, and Samsara dragged her arm over her body, hurling Pyrrha away in a rather surprising display of martial arts. Pyrrha used her semblance on her greaves to drag her feet down and around for a landing. Anyone watching might marvel at how she'd gone from being upside down in the air to suddenly flipping onto her feet. Even then, it was a clumsy landing and she staggered back, woozy from the constant beating.

Samsara was trying to be kind, but she'd have appreciated being knocked out the competition already. Her entire body was on fire. And here I wanted to lose, but not like this. Pyrrha sighed. I guess this is the difference between an experienced huntress and a student.

"I can't wait to see how good you are once you're my age," Samsara said. "Keep your training up, girl. You're going to put me to shame but I'll accept it."

Pyrrha smiled again. "Thank you."

"Are you going to surrender? Don't make me be the bitch and knock out someone in her first year of high school…"

"I'm sorry," she said, and she was. "It may be selfish of me, but I'd prefer to lose bravely if I must at all." She cracked a weak smile. "And my own opponents would be insulted if the one who beat them didn't go down swinging."

"Catch-22, huh? Damned if you do and damned if you don't…"

"Yes." Not to mention the media would tear her to shreds. Pyrrha Nikos, the Coward Girl who backed out of a fight when things got tough. They wouldn't care that her opponent might as well be a teacher in Haven. They'd only judge what she did. "I'm sorry for asking it, but please take me seriously. Even if it means you destroy me."

The woman leant on her stave and cupped her forehead. "Aw. I'm going to look like a right cow."

"I'll know you're not. Please, Miss Samsara."

"Alright. Alright." The huntress lowered her weapon. Her eyes narrowed, every hole Pyrrha had been seeing tightening up and then vanishing. No longer was she a competitor in the arena, but a predator. A huntress. "For what it's worth, you're a brave one. Skilled, too. Don't let this knock your confidence."

Pyrrha laughed tiredly. "And people say I'm too nice for my own good…"

/-/

"Oh my." George winced. "This is difficult to watch."

"It's a slaughter is what it is," Jaune replied, watching through his own fingers as his best friend and the first woman he'd really loved got torn to pieces. His body was so tense that his toes were curled up in his shoes, every aspect of him screaming to smash through the window, jump down there and defend her.

He couldn't. This was Pyrrha's moment. It was a tournament, a simulated fight, and her opponent knew that and was pulling her blows as any good huntsman would against a weaker person.

"It's not even all that fair. Samsara knows it too and is taking it easy on her."

"Has she-? Ah, you're a huntsman as well. One of those things we can't see, I take it?"

"You can tell from how this hasn't ended yet. She's even let Pyrrha get a few good hits in so it's not a hundred per cent aura win." Or a `perfect` as one of Ruby's old fighting games would cheerfully declare. He wasn't sure George of his wife could understand the analogy.

"Pyrrha will win," Terrance said with the confidence of a fan. "I believe in her. She's not out yet."

Did it make him a bad friend for not believing in her? He liked to think it didn't. Pyrrha had just as much brains as she did brawn, and she wasn't afraid to point out when it was better to go on the defensive. If she were here in her adult form, he knew she'd be making the same observations he was. The truth hurt, but it was just that.

And really, losing might be for the best.

Don't let it show. For the love of everything, please don't let that stupid power pop out now.

The cameras portraying the fight onto the big screens around the arena couldn't see Pyrrha's face perfectly, but it would have recognised the tell-tale burning eyes if she had them. Bright gold fire wasn't something easily missed. So far, she hadn't tapped into it. According to Ozpin, it took months for a maiden to learn to do anything. Even Cinder needed time to master it. Raven had years. Pyrrha shouldn't even be capable of recognising the difference.

Pyrrha fell to one knee, sword and shield down, shoulders rising and falling as she gasped for breath. Samsara readied her weapon, nodded once and rushed in.

It's over.

Pyrrha looked up, lips peeled back angrily.

Her eyes burned gold.

And then, it truly was over.

"She won!" Terrance cheered. "Pyrrha won!"

Jaune had only one word. "Fuck."

/-/

Ozpin's chair fell back as he stood.

Qrow was beside him instantly, hand on the desk. "Was that-?"

"Yes. We have found the inheritor of Amber's powers."

Pyrrha Nikos. A famous competition fighter. An almost random person for Amber to think of in the last, but not that unlikely. Why not someone well-known and famous? A person Amber may have seen on broadcasts or in magazines. Someone she may even have thought might be able to defend the power in her final moments.

His fingers flew to his scroll. "Glynda. Ready me a Bullhead. I need you to look after Beacon for a few days. I shall explain later!" he promised as Glynda tried to get a word in edgeways. "All will be explained in time, but I must leave." He hung up. "Qrow…?"

"I can be there in four hours. I'll defend her."

"Thank you. Make it so."

/-/

"Back away!" Alexander boomed. The whale of a man looked proud as pudding, his teeth glinting as people crowded around him, Pyrrha and Helena. Pyrrha was still out of it, slumped into her sister and exhausted. Her hair was damp with sweat. "This was always expected," Alexander shouted. "With the proud Nikos blood running through her veins, victory here was a foregone conclusion. Control yourselves."

Cameras flashed, the few journalists who had been allowed to attend barking out questions to the man, some of them downright predatory – asking after Pyrrha's Semblances and how it had been hidden all this time.

Not polarity.

"Pyrrha has never used her Semblance because she has never needed to!" Alexander boasted, answering for his daughter, and quite incorrectly. "A conscious decision on her part to give her opponents the benefit of a chance. Of course, defeating a huntress like Samsara required more!"

Helena looked furious. Jaune had an inkling why.

"That is why my daughter is the champion of Mistral, the Invincible Girl. The strongest huntress on Remnant!"

"Sir! We've heard rumours of retirement-"

"Nonsense!" he bellowed. "Lies spread by jealous foes. Pyrrha will face any challenger who comes her way. A Nikos fears nothing."

Jaune's eyes weren't on him. He watched Pyrrha. Watched as her hand gripped tightly onto her sister's dress. Pyrrha wouldn't say anything. She never would. Too polite. Too eager to please. Even when he'd given in to Cardin's bullying and acted like an asshole, she never said a word. Yang called her submissive. Sometimes, he'd thought she could be too much that. He'd always wondered if it was her family life behind it. Now, he knew.

"Isn't that her decision to make?"

The crowd parted. Jaune wasn't entirely surprised to find it had been himself who spoke.

"What was that?" Alexander sought him out and snarled. "Ashari. Come to witness Pyrrha's victory over an opponent older than her? I can't blame you shouting out, wrought with jealousy as you are. Pyrrha has more trophies under her belt than your entire gym."

"Pyrrha has a voice," he said, silencing the laughter. "I just think it's strange for people to be asking you whether she's going to keep competing when she's stood behind you. Does everyone here think she doesn't get a choice? Or are you not interested in hearing it?"

There was little way for Alexander to swing that without appearing demanding. He saw the tide turn against him and looked back to Helena and Pyrrha, pinning them under his gaze, along with the gazes of everyone else there.

Pyrrha stiffened. Helena squeezed her shoulder for support.

"Well, Pyrrha?" Alexander boomed. "What say you? These rumours of your retirement. They are nonsense of course. Absolute nonsense. If Ashari won't believe it from my mouth, let him hear it from yours. Will you continue fighting? Will you uphold the Nikos honour?"

He knew she didn't want to. Anyone watching could probably tell. The look on her face, the pain in her eyes and the way her lips drew into a thin line. How no one here could see it, he didn't know. Maybe it was just him. Maybe he knew her better than anyone here ever could, but he saw it. Saw it as her eyes met his and understanding was formed.

`Say it`, he mouthed, willing her his strength. `Do what you want`.

Pyrrha's eyes wavered, then dipped down to the floor.

Jaune's gut wrenched.

"I'll fight," she whispered. "I'll uphold our honour."

Jaune turned and stormed away, chased out by the booming laughter from Alexander and several others who joined him in mocking the jealous foreigner. He ignored it, that and Helena's thinly veiled attempts to get him to stop and talk to her. Out the door, down the corridor and away, past Leonardo Lionheart, who was making his way toward the main room with a hungry expression. Jaune let him go, hand gripped tight to his side, ready to draw a sword not there and bury it in the traitor's chest. Stopping himself, he pulled out his scroll and dialled a number.

"Raven."

"Calling so soon? Don't tell me you missed me."

"We may have a problem."

Short chapter. Sorry. Busy weekend and need to go out now. There was only really going to be another 500 - 600 or so and I'll just tack that onto the start of next week's chapter. Either way, Pyrrha has become the fall maiden once more, and this time she didn't even get a choice over the matter. I guess this finally answers how I plan to keep Pyrrha relevant to the story while not being a student in Beacon.

Next Chapter: 25th January

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