Happy Friday, folks!

80. Fashionably Late

They were forced to land again that night at the very tip of Solitas, so close to the water that they could hear the crashing of the waves. No one was tempted to swim, though—this far north, it was bitingly cold even in early autumn.

Pyrrha didn't have time to miss the warmth radiating from Quake's scales. The second she dismounted, Twiggy bounded over and hovered protectively beside her. Seconds later, the hybrid landed soundlessly about fifty feet away. She watched Pyrrha with her tail twitching every so often, hardly blinking.

"This will be our last chance to rest before we get there," Winter announced. "Sleep as much as you can. We leave again in four hours."

Freya let out a dismayed yipping sound, but Pyrrha was glad they weren't staying long. Now that she wasn't so exhausted, it was even more of a chore to force herself to sleep. At least this way she wouldn't have to wait long for the others to wake up. But before she could join the rest of her friends in setting up camp, she glanced towards where the hybrid had been sitting. She was gone.

Alarmed, Pyrrha excused herself from the others and walked out into the woods. The canopy overhead wasn't very thick, and the moon was out, but it was still difficult to see where she was putting her feet. She fumbled along, distracted with wondering how she was supposed to find the hybrid in the dark like this, until the ground vanished beneath her.

Pyrrha yelped and slid several feet on loose stones and dirt before she came to a stop with her heart in her throat, at the bottom of a steep slope she hadn't noticed in the dark. There, in front of her, the trees gave way to a rocky bluff that smelled like salt. The ocean itself was another twenty feet down, shining silver in the moonlight.

There, silhouetted against the sky, was the hybrid. She sat gazing at the water, her neck stretching out as far as it would go. As Pyrrha approached, she noticed that the dragon's ears were flat against her skull, and her eyes were wide and fixed on the movement of the waves.

"Is everything alright?" Pyrrha asked.

One ear pricked up. Pyrrha spent several seconds on the receiving end of an impassive stare. Then the hybrid gave a small, noncommittal snort.

Pyrrha came as close as she dared, stopping about ten feet away and sitting cross-legged on the ground. It was freezing, with no trees to block the wind blowing in from the water. "This must be your first time seeing the ocean."

The hybrid growled. Pyrrha's heart sank, until she realized that the noise wasn't directed at her at all. She suppressed a smile and said, "I suppose it isn't for everyone."

They lapsed into a silence that was... well, it wasn't quite comfortable, but Pyrrha found herself relaxing into it the longer it went on. The hybrid seemed content to stare out at the open ocean without so much as a twitch. Pyrrha wondered, not for the first time, how long she'd been on her own. She hadn't learned much from their first meeting, except that at one point she'd hatched in the lab and not-quite-bonded to Sienna.

It struck her then that she'd neglected a very basic question.

"Can you tell me your name?"

The hybrid's head turned smoothly towards her. Again she stared, expressionless, as if weighing the question. Then she flicked her tail dismissively.

"No?"

A huff. It sounded vaguely affirmative to Pyrrha—which was about the best she could hope for, under the circumstances. "I could try to guess," she offered, then had to squash another little grin at the mental image of this half-wild hybrid playing charades with her. "Or I suppose Ilia might know, if..."

She trailed off. The hybrid had flicked her tail again, which seemed to be her way of saying no. "That's alright. If you don't want to tell me—"

Another flick—this one more forceful, as if she was agitated.

Hurt, but trying not to show it, Pyrrha nodded. "Of course. It's up to you."

The hybrid let out a frustrated hiss. Frowning, Pyrrha risked a guess. "You... do want to say?"

She was silent for a moment. Then she snorted in annoyance and put her head down on her paws, apparently finished with the conversation.

Pyrrha sat there, staring at the hybrid, trying to see where... she'd... oh.

"Do you... have a name?"

A lethargic flick of her tail.

Pyrrha couldn't speak for several seconds. When she recovered, the words slipped out before she could stop them. "Would you like one?"

The hybrid's ears perked up. Her head followed much more slowly, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"I can give you suggestions until you find one that you like. And if none of them work for you, we could try again another time."

Her pale yellow eyes went wide for an instant before she covered the expression and feigned nonchalance. Then she hummed, her eyes half-lidded, as if to say that she would reluctantly humor this silly human custom.

"Well..." Pyrrha paused, her mind suddenly blank. She rejected the first thought that came to her, Sandy, without even saying it out loud. "How about Dune?"

The hybrid cocked her head to one side.

"It's what those sandy hills in the desert are called."

She considered the name for a moment, then dismissed it.

They went back and forth like that for a long time. Finally, when Pyrrha was already resigned to trying again tomorrow night, she blurted out, "Harpy?"

The hybrid pawed the ground, which Pyrrha had learned meant she didn't understand a word and wanted it explained. Then she thought back over what she just said and flushed. "Well, they're creatures from mythology that are half human, half bird. In the stories they can fly faster than the wind, but... well, they also have a reputation for stealing food and tormenting wicked souls in the underworld, so perhaps it isn't..."

She trailed off. The hybrid's head tilted to one side as she mulled the name over. Then she snorted her approval.

Pyrrha's insides lurched. She smiled through the sudden pang and said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Harpy."

"Justice?"

He flicked an ear, to show that he'd heard Ilia, but kept his eyes fixed on the forest. She'd wandered off while the humans were talking, and he had to make sure she didn't go near Gigas when she got back.

"Can we talk?"

Justice huffed and reluctantly turned towards Ilia. Her shoulders were drawn in, and she kept fidgeting. "We're going to be in Atlas soon."

Don't remind me.

"When we get there, there might be a fight, between the academy and riders from the Council. Don't get me wrong, Atlas is pretty messed up... but if the Council wins, they're going to be able to control most of the dragons in the world, which would be... bad doesn't really cover it." She bit her lip. "And it will make things a lot harder for the Fang, too."

Justice waited impatiently for her to get around to telling him what to do. "I—" Ilia stopped and looked around herself, as if double-checking that there was no one listening before she continued. "Do you want to fight with them?"

He stared at her, his tail twitching despite his efforts to keep it still.

"And..." She glanced around again, and stepped closer so that she could speak in a whisper. "Whether you fight or not, afterwards... we can leave, if you want. We can't go back to the Fang, I'm sorry—they'd try and kill us. But we could go somewhere else."

The sheer shock of it almost bowled him over—but not long afterward, his ears drooped with the realization that it wasn't really much of a choice. He could go wherever he wanted, except where he really wanted to go. And if it was a choice between Atlas, where Gigas would be, and somewhere else all by himself...

Maybe if he and Ilia saved Gigas and the Lieutenant, the others would believe them when they said they weren't traitors? No, Ilia had been the one to lead the humans to the camp in the first place...

"So, do you want to—" Ilia started to say, but cut herself off when an angry voice interrupted.

"What are you doing?" Winter Schnee stalked over to them, with Tai stumbling along behind her.

"Sorry," he said, wincing when Winter glared at him. "I looked away for a second and she kinda vanished."

"I was just making sure he was okay," Ilia said. "And I'm not a prisoner, you know. I decided to come here and help you."

"And he did his best to get us all killed," snapped Winter, turning her scowl on Justice. "You can stay where we can keep an eye on you."

Ilia walked away, and Justice laid down to sulk. Maybe he could steal Gigas and the Lieutenant, and all four of them could run away together. He'd could make sure the Lieutenant didn't hurt Ilia for being a traitor, and there wouldn't be anyone yelling at them just for talking.

"Brother."

Justice let out a noise that was definitely an angry growl, and not a startled yelp. When he whipped his head around, he found her crouching between two trees. He looked for the human she'd started following around, and found her sitting with the rest of her friends. His ears went back. "What do you want?" he snarled.

Her head tilted to one side. "Harpy."

He'd forgotten how confusing it was, talking to her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm Harpy."

Justice blinked a few times, then glanced back at the human and realized. "Right," he said coldly. "I guess if you're her pet now, she gets to name you."

Harpy hissed at him. "Not a pet. She asks. When she stops, I leave."

"Yeah, you're good at that."

Silence. He kept on ignoring her for almost a minute before he gave up and snapped, "What do you want, anyway?"

But when he turned around, she was gone again.

"Is it true that General Ironwood is planning a coup d'état?"

"Has he been acting on secret orders given by Ozpin before his death?"

"Is the Dragonry really a staging ground for the next faunus war?"

The last question, transparently directed at Neon, was what finally made Flynt snap. "No," he said coolly. "We just don't want the Council interfering with the Dragonry."

"Flynt," Neon groaned, grabbing his arm and pulling him away from the cameras. "We gotta be careful what we say, remember? We might get, like, charged and stuff."

"It's the truth."

"No duh, but it'd be kinda bad if somebody used that to say you were trying to do treason or something."

He grimaced, but had to admit she had a point. The General had warned them about that yesterday, when he realized the journalists—and more importantly, the Council—were about to find the students that had left the school. Either their statements had been blown way out of proportion, or they'd been blatantly lying. Flynt's hands balled into fists.

There was a shift in the crowd of reporters. He tensed, watching as they scrambled to get a better angle on something...

A dragon, and its rider. The long whip in her hand told him all he needed to know, and he tensed as the pair of them marched towards the scattered group of students. It was only when they were almost on top of him that he realized Cordovan, the woman from the Council, was walking in front of them.

"Where is General Ironwood?" she demanded. "If he thinks that having command of the Atlesian army means that he is above the law, he is in for an unpleasant wake-up call! The sheer temerity—the disrespect—" she spluttered in her anger, her face turning steadily redder until she finally spat, "Treason! That's what it is!"

Flynt froze. The General was inside, strategizing with a few of the professors. They were supposed to warn him if something happened, but he had no idea what Cordovan or the Council rider would do if he bolted towards the tower now.

Neon smiled innocently at Cordovan. "I thought it was just a problem with the paperwork," she said. "I mean, I wouldn't want him to let a bunch of strangers into the school where I live without permission!"

Cordovan turned towards her, horribly slowly, and turned from red to purple. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised," she snarled, "that someone like you has a problem with authority."

Neon's hand was still on his arm—he felt it clench, then relax as she forced a grin. "Aw," she said, sickly sweet. "It's only a little one, I promise." Her eyes widened. "Oops, sorry! Should've realized that might be a sore subject."

"That—you—!" Cordovan was completely speechless with rage—but the Rider behind her muttered something under her breath.

The dragon's ears went back. Flynt's heart lurched. He dove sideways, bringing himself and Neon crashing to the ground. Over their heads, the dragon's jaws snapped shut. He rolled onto his side. There, like a snapshot, he saw it staring at him—relief in every line of its face.

And then, of course, all hell broke loose.

Atlas emerged from the fog like a mirage, orbited by a flock of shining silver airships. Winter felt Steele's pleased rumble through the tips of her fingers and smiled.

"Fifteen minutes out!" she called back to the others. And, naturally, this was where things would get very dicey. She thought she could probably get through the airships so long as she identified herself—they were closely tied to the General, and she didn't think her absence would have been noted quite so quickly.

She'd expected to be hailed by one of the airships on patrol—but they were spread much more thinly than usual. Her heart sank as she realized why. There was hardly a single dragon in the airspace surrounding the kingdom's capitol. After several more seconds of searching, she spotted the reason why. A dense thicket of movement, centered around the CCT tower at the heart of Atlas Dragonry. A battle.

"Speed up!" she ordered, and urged Steele on. Not to his full speed—she'd risk leaving the students behind, and while she thought she had a decent shot at convincing Atlas' remaining defenders to let her pass, the same would not be true of a swarm of teenagers.

She fumbled her scroll out of her pocket one-handed, just in time for the first contact from a nearby dropship. "Winter Schnee," she said, before the pilot had even started to speak. "Escorting a group of students transferring to Atlas." They would already be seeing the data from her scroll, and Steele wasn't exactly easy to miss.

"I wouldn't go to the dragonry right now," the pilot said, voice tinny over the speakers. "It's a mess. Half the flight squad defected, and they're fighting the other half."

Winter grimaced. "We'll set down somewhere else, then," she lied, and ended the call—just in time for the screaming of the wind to drown out all other sound, as Steele tucked in his wings and dove.

Finally. Finally, I can call Harpy by name! No more of this "tHe HyBrId" and "sIeNnA's HaTcHlInG" bullshit! Ugh. I definitely did not realize when I was outlining this just how many chapters happened in between her hatching and actually getting a damn name!

Edit: Fixed linebreaks. Not sure if I forgot or FFN ate them, but they're there now!