This chapter was difficult to write out…for a lot of reasons. Mostly depressing ones.

On with the show.


-Adolescence of Innocence-
Chapter III: Mothers and Birthdays

Day 10 of Seventh Moon Cycle
Year 1916

Pyrrha was turning six-years-old this month. Which, of course, meant there was to be a celebration. Streamers, banners, and festivities were in the works all across the palace and in the city, where even larger festivities would take place. The birthday of the princess was a big deal, so of course everyone was going to celebrate as though it was a national holiday.

Needless to say, the former champion of Mistral felt unnerved and intimidated by the grandeur of the celebrations. Namely…

"I-isn't this a bit too much?!"

"Nonsense!" King August bellowed, steam literally pouring from his nostrils. "Pyrrha, my darling child, you're turning six this year!"

"And I turned five last year. That party was nowhere near this insane!" she refuted.

King August looked confused for a moment before his eyes widened in realization, groaning and palming his forehead. "Blast, old age really is getting to me. I completely forgot!" He proceeded to explain when he saw Pyrrha's confused expression. "Although it is true your birthday is grander than normal, it's not solely because you've grown more, my daughter. It's also the day you've reached your first Day of Age."

"Day of Age?" she repeated. She tried to recall the term from her studies, but came up blank. "What's that?"

"All those born in Sileos go through a Day of Age twice in their life; the first when they turn six, and the second when they turn seventeen. It's something of a tradition that started during the Flugel's era, which the Estelise Royal Family took up after our ancestor took the throne. It's said that when a person turns six and seventeen respectively, they'll undergo a great change in their life. For you, my daughter, it will no doubt be a turning point."

"Because I'm a princess?"

"Partly," King August admitted. "You're already aware of this, but because of long-standing traditions, you're not able to succeed me. I'm also aware you'd rather fall upon your sword than deal with stuffy politics."

Pyrrha shuddered at the prospect. She had nothing against politics, but she would be a fool not to recognize how cutthroat and dangerous the business was. Kingdom officials and government-affiliated organizations often came under scrutiny for their decisions, even when their actions were aiming towards the long game. The same also applied to her fame and status from years ago involving her sponsors. Her agent warned her ahead of time about what sorts of vultures she might attract, and it unfortunately left her with some paranoia as a result.

"Speaking of swords, I heard you want to start training under the Captain of the Guard."

The girl looked at her father warily. "Is…that a problem?"

"Hardly," King August said much to Pyrrha's relief. "In fact, he's a good choice. However, I should inform you he'll be resigning from his post in the next season."

"What? Why?!"

The ruler of Maple Leaf laughed at the incredulous look on his daughter's face. "He's getting old, Pyrrha. We both agreed there were better ways to spend his time, which is to say at the Knights Academy. He'll be teaching there as a combat instructor." At this, Pyrrha sighed in relief. In fact, it was a stroke of luck! She could attend the academy with Vyline and study under the captain at the same time. "The minimum age requirement for enrollment is twelve, so I'm afraid you'll have to wait a while longer."

"That's fine!" Pyrrha smiled. "When he is retiring? Should I get him something as a gift?"

King August raised a brow in amusement. "Oh-ho? Now there's a fine idea. Truth be told, I've been thinking of giving him a gift as well, for his fine years of service with us. Why don't you and I convene in private later to brainstorm something, hm?"

"Shirking your duties again, Your Majesty?"

"Hurk!" King August froze, slowly looking over his shoulder to find a smiling Septem. "B-brother, what a surprise!" the king stammered. "I thought you'd be here tomorrow!"

"I finished my business at the senate early," Septem said smoothly. Although his expression seemed pleasant, Pyrrha felt a cold chill crawl down her spine when she saw the bloodthirsty look in his eyes, eyeing King August like a wolf staring down a lamb. "Duke Aeglam wished for me to pass on a new proposal to you, but imagine my surprise when I find you here in the ballroom instead of your study."

"C-come now, brother! My darling daughter is having her first Day of Age in the coming weeks! It's an auspicious occasion!"

"One you may enjoy on the proper day," Pyrrha's uncle snapped. "Now come on, you oaf. Get back to work!"

Before the king could get a word in, Septem grabbed the king by the collar and proceeded to drag him away. The sight of the Prime Minister dragging the flailing monarch away was a sight to behold for many reasons. Pyrrha could not hold back her laughter, lamenting that Sileos had no access to Scrolls or cameras as she would have done anything to immortalize such a moment.

Now having spent six years in her reincarnated life, Pyrrha was learning more and more about the world she lived in. Her studies were recently covering the Isle of Waking, home of the Alliance of Demi-Humans. Whatever she didn't learn in her studies she turned to Vyline and Arya about, particularly regarding the lifestyle of the demi-humans living there. The Isle was divided into three territories, each ruled by the representatives and leaders of each demi-human race. One territory leaned more towards commerce, one was home to countless trading companies and essentially held the monopoly on exports and shipping businesses, and another was home to masterwork craftsmen of all kinds.

Pyrrha tried asking her father if they could visit the Isle, but he refused each time. Compared to the stormy look he had whenever the Empire came up in conversation, the Isle of Waking made him wear a grim expression. He claimed things were dangerous at the moment, but when they calmed down, he would arrange a visit. The only thing that might have any relevance was the Horde; a congregation of monsters never before seen in Sileos. Details and written reports were scarce, and all she knew was that they threatened to overrun the Isle of Waking when it first appeared centuries ago.

They sound like the Darkbrood Horde from that video game Ruby talked to me about, Pyrrha thought. What was it called again? Drake's Age or something?

Her studies did not cover much of the Horde beyond the warnings and dangers they posed. There were no illustrations, even. It seemed like humanity and demi-humans feared this Horde greatly, whatever it was. Not that she could blame them. The more she heard of their existence, the more she drew comparisons to the Grimm.

"Your Highness!"

"W-wait, Arya! Slow down!"

The princess' face brightened, hearing the Randell sisters. Arya looked as hearty and free since she last saw her, whereas Vyline was scrambling to catch up.


"For the love of… Honestly, you're a king, much less an adult. Stop pouting, damn you!"

"I'll stop pouting as soon as you leave me to spend time with my darling daughter!"

King August and his Regent argued back and forth in the former's office. The office, as expected where the king worked from his palace, was as grand as his lodgings. The desk and chair were gilded in elaborate designs, resembling tree roots and branches with leaves. The black marble floor glistened so beautifully in the chandelier's light and so polished one could see their own reflection. Behind the desk and men was a painting of King Falm, the current king's father and Pyrrha's grandfather.

Ever since Septem pulled his brother away, King August acted like a child who lost their favorite toy. It was embarrassing, not to mention totally unprofessional of him. Then again, King August never acted like a king around his daughter. That side of him, his kingly persona, was saved for the courts and the nobles. And the ugly parts, he did his best to hide. He didn't want to scare Pyrrha, no matter how mature the girl acted sometimes.

"Sometimes I wonder why I pushed for you to succeed father," Septem groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

King August huffed. "I ask myself that every day. These days, all I get are brown-nosers looking to cozy up to my court, whereas the rest are damned cowards. Honestly, the only people I can truly rely on these days are you, Duke Randell, Roygun, and the rest of the old guard."

"It can't be helped, brother. With what's been going on in the Isle of Waking…"

"You truly believe the Horde may be returning so soon?"

"Nothing's certain, August. Their attacks grow ever frequent. I fear the day we face an incursion from them day after day."

King August frowned heavily. Truthfully, he didn't want to put much stock in the Horde resurging so soon. No one wanted to acknowledge the possibility, especially when things were still so delicate between Maple Leaf and the Alliance.

"Honestly, I hope we're not due for one anytime soon."

"I would imagine the Boy King and the Rediron Empire, as well as the Alliance, feel the same," Septem agreed. His face grew pensive, as if deep in thought about something. After a moment of consideration, he thought against it and changed the subject. "August, about Cherie…"

King August's face grew somber. "Has her condition…?"

"She gets worse," he informed his brother regrettably. "I would have thought she'd get better as Pyrrha grew older, but…"

"It all stems back to that damnable illness…" King August drove his fist into the desk. "Damn! Damn it all! We went to so many healers, even to Rediron, and yet… And yet…!" Tears of frustration poured down his cheeks.

Ever since Pyrrha's birth, his wife's health deteriorated at a heartbreaking pacing. King August swore he'd do anything—anything—even get down on his knees and beg the Rediron Empire's best to save her. Their healers, and the healers and Erdite shamans from the Alliance of Demi-Humans, could do nothing to help. The cause was not magical in nature, but rather a physical ailment. It was a sobering reminder that, for as powerful as Ignisters and magicks were, they were not the be-all miracle cures people called them. They had their limits.

What hurt the king the most about his wife's illness was how, ever since Pyrrha was born, she turned bedridden and barely had the strength to move at all. These days, it took significant effort just to drink from a glass of water. In her pitiful state, Cherie was a withering flower, wilting away and slowly turning into nothing. It was why she asked King August and Septem not to let Pyrrha see her, so she wouldn't feel ashamed, that this was not her fault.

Not her fault? Why would she ever think that? Why would Cherie think our daughter would blame herself? She's a child, the man thought morosely. Idiot girl.

Yet that same naïveté, that childish smile of hers, was why he fell in love with her.

King August had many regrets in his life. That he could not have Pyrrha grow up and live a worthwhile life with a mother was the biggest.

"…Your Majesty?"

He sighed deeply. "I'm fine." It was a poor lie. Septem saw through it easily, but said nothing. "Let's just…finish this damn paperwork."

The stack of papers would not be done until late in the evening. By then, many in the palace returned to their quarters and rooms.

That night, August von Estelise wondered for the umpteenth time whether he was a good father.


The starry-night consumed the sky, and the pale blue-colored moon hung softly overhead. There were no clouds, and the winds blowing through the halls were fairly warm. The sixth, seventh, and eighth moon cycles of the year were collectively known as the Daybreak Period, both due to the warm temperatures and how the sun rose at its earliest during these three months.

The warm weather did not bother Pyrrha much. She found it a welcome reprieve, though admittedly there were times when she found herself sweating in those damnabled stuffy dresses she was forced to wear. Although she long-since accepted her royal status, she sorely wished she could wear something that did not have any damnable frills on it!

"I'm so excited!" Arya quivered in her seat. The comparisons between her and Nora grew stronger with each passing year, though thankfully she did not have her teammate's insatiable appetite for pancakes. "Your first Day of Age! I had mine last year, and papa always tells me I'm to experience many great things! I bet yours will be even greater!"

"Sister…" Vyline sighed. "I'm sorry, Pyrrha. She's been like this all month!"

Pyrrha giggled into her hand. "It's fine, you don't have to worry so much. As overwhelmed by how overboard everyone's going, I am looking forward to my birthday next week."

"It's not everyday the realm celebrates the princess' first Day of Age. Still, if what I saw is any indication, His Majesty is the most excited."

"Please don't remind me…" She buried her hands in her face out of embarrassment.

Despite King August's sometimes darker moments when in private, he truly was the definition and textbook example of a doting father. She lost count how many times he skimped out on the court and paperwork just to spend time with her. Contrary to her annoyance and grief, she did love the time spent with him. Lately, he'd been storming a plan to take her out into the city sometime soon.

It was an exciting prospect. Barring visits to Castle Thulwin and the lively city-state of Elibas, Pyrrha knew little about the sprawling world outside the palace walls. She wanted to see streams of people going about their day, visit shops and sample the local delicacies. Maid gossip spoke highly of a sweets shop that opened quite recently, and her inner sweet tooth refused to be denied satisfaction.

"It's not just him," Arya added with a grin. "Mother's also looking forward to your birthday. She's been taken with you ever since you started taking lessons from her."

As she progressed through her studies, Pyrrha was assigned many new tutors. Eventually, they were forced to concede when they realized she was a genuine prodigy. What they failed to realize was that, despite the language and writing differences, the mathematics system was no different than what she knew in Remnant. Figuring it out was easy, as was solving difficult equations. She did not become Class Valedictorian or graduate Sanctum Combat School with top honors for nothing.

King August, after receiving numerous reports from her tutors, decided to hand her teaching to Meldia, who proved to be a quite formidable woman. Unlike the last couple of teachers Pyrrha had, she recognized her as an adult and therefore treated her as one. Her assignments were all proof of that. They were difficult at times, challenging even, but overall they were incredibly worthwhile. Meldia was a harsh taskmaster, but she treated Pyrrha as an equal. When it was just them, the duchess treated her not as a princess, but as her student.

It became a recurring joke how the princess was unofficially adopted by the Randells. When the Duke first heard of it, he outright panicked until King August, hearing the joke himself, burst into laughter and named the Dukes Pyrrha's godparents should anything befall him or Septem. The Court was shocked at first, but quickly accepted the proclamation. Arya was downright giddy when she learned this, as was Vyline.

…until Arya started demanding Pyrrha call her "Big Sis", that is.

"Speaking of mothers," Arya smiled innocently. "Will your mother be attending the party as well?"

Pyrrha's smile froze.

"Come to think of it, I don't believe I've heard you mention your mother much at all," Vyline thought, giving Pyrrha a curious look. "Pardon for asking something so personal, Pyrrha, but are you and your mother not on good terms?"

"…I've never met my mother," Pyrrha admitted quietly.

A dreadful silence fell upon the room. The Randell sisters stared incredulously with large eyes before shame fell upon then. They tried to say something, perhaps give an apology for their insensitivity, but neither could find the words. They were lodged in their throats, unable to get the words out. All they could do was lower their heads in shame.

"My father says she's very sick. The doctors all have no idea what's wrong with her, and no form of Ignis seems to work, either." The red-haired princess smiled sadly. "Father promised he would introduce me to her someday, but with how frail her health seems to be…"

Pyrrha's feelings on her birth mother were childish, in a way. She wanted to meet her, if only just once. She wanted to see her face for herself, to know and understand the woman who gave birth to her. She wanted to know what kind of woman Cherie was for King August to have fallen for her so thoroughly. More than anything, she wanted to thank her. Thank her for bringing her into this world, for helping to give her yet another second chance at life.

All she knew of her mother, of Cherie Dasong, was through word of mouth and the stories her father told.

"I… I see…" Vyline looked away with a frown. "I had no idea…"

"Is her health really that bad…?" Arya asked with quivering lips. She looked ready to cry.

Pyrrha sighed. "I don't know. Whenever I ask, my father gets this strange look. Perhaps she's truly that sick… Even so, I… Just once, I want to see her. To meet her."


Day 15 of Seventh Moon Cycle
Year 1916

Only four days left until my birthday, Pyrrha thought to herself as she left the library with book in tow. I thought father's eccentric behavior the other day was intense, but now it seems like everyone in the palace is scrambling to ensure everything's perfect. Is this Day of Age really that important?

The practice of Days of Age started around a thousand years ago, beginning originally as some superstition among the populace when the Alliance and Maple Leaf Kingdom were on good terms. In the beginning, it people believed the Days of Age were omens of blessing, a belief originating in the Isle of Waking in prosperous years. Supposedly, the superstition began as part of an inspiration from Erdite traditions, where the long-loved ignisters brought their children to their wise shamans to glimpse their futures, once when they turned six, and again at seventeen. The practice grew so popular that, with time, such events became widely separated.

Of course, compared to the Erdite's traditions, children never went to visit shamans and get their fortunes told. In truth, Pyrrha did not care for the practice, instead focusing on the fact that divination was widely known, accepted, and apparently possible.

"Do you believe in destiny?"

Her last words from Remnant echoed back to her. A bitter smile formed across Pyrrha's face before shaking her head. Although she often reminisced memories of her life as Pyrrha Nikos, she seldom thought back to her final moments, or rather any moment involving Cinder Fall. The amber eyes burning with power, all for maniacal purposes and malice, glared back each time she thought of the raven-haired woman. Any time Pyrrha thought of her, she felt her chest burn and ache in pain, as if the arrow was still lodged in her chest.

The scarlet-haired girl removed such thoughts from her mind, instead turning to her anticipation. The book she convinced the stingy librarian to let her borrow wasn't light reading by any means. It was as thick as her bicep, and the only pictures inside were careful and detailed drawings of the Erdite people. Learning about other cultures was a favorite past time, more so now when she lived in an honest-to-Brothers fantasy world. She could hardly wait to crack it open!

Probably best not to let the maids see this, otherwise they'll throw a fit and say I'm not ready for this kind of reading… Honestly, you'd think they would know I'm at the adult reading level in this world by now since I started studying under Vy's mother. Speaking of, I should probably go over the assignment again. I don't want to get docked for screwing up…

She abruptly stopped both in thinking and in motion, her feet coming to a halt. She could not help but stare oddly and in concern at the woman lying in the middle of the floor before her.

"Miss?" Pyrrha called out. "A-are you okay?" The woman did not answer her. Growing more concerned, Pyrrha approached and knelt down by the woman's head. She was dreadfully pale, a thin sheet of sweat covering her face with flushed cheeks. Her frail appearance did not help matters much, either. She was almost skin and bones, cheekbones barely visible.

Where did she come from? Pyrrha wondered as she observed her more closely. She wore a plain, but otherwise elaborate nightgown she doubt one could find in the city below. Is she one of the servants here? She looks so skinny…

Rising to her feet, Pyrrha looked around to see if there were any servants she could ask for help. When she found none, she could only sigh in dismay and look back to the woman at her feet.

"Oh, bother…"


Getting the thin woman to her room did not prove as much a challenge as Pyrrha assumed. Rather than comforting her, it only made the young girl more worried about the woman currently asleep in her bed. Despite getting an early start on her training regimen (which was sadly nowhere near the desired level she hoped for), Pyrrha knew she should have had a harder time taking the woman to her room. Between her light body weight and skinny appearance, it made her wonder how long it'd been since she had anything to eat.

Pyrrha wiped the sweat off the woman's brow with a cloth, then placed a wet towel across her forehead when she noticed the woman's fever. She showed no signs of waking up, but she was clearly still alive as evident of the rise and fall of her chest.

"Hopefully none of the maids come and see this," Pyrrha muttered under her breath. She could not even begin to imagine what sort of incredulous reactions they might have if they saw a stranger in the princess' bed. "Where did she come from, anyway? I'm almost certain she's not part of the staff here, so where…"

Her spoken-aloud thoughts came to an abrupt end when the woman started groaning and shifting. She woke up at last, revealing milky emerald eyes with tiny pinprick irises. She stared up at the ceiling, unfocused and bleary, before shifting her head. For a moment, Pyrrha went still as they locked eyes, only for the woman to look elsewhere as if searching for something. She made no outward reaction to the young girl's presence, which already raised a huge flag.

"A bed…?" the woman groaned out, her voice so terribly small it came out a hoarse whisper. "How did I…? Did the maids bring me back here…?"

Why doesn't she… Realization dawned on Pyrrha as she waved her hands around, making silly motions. The woman did not so much as comment on it. She's blind! So she's not part of the staff here… Wait, did she just say the maids brought her back? Is she some sort of important guest?

"Um, excuse me…" Pyrrha started, deciding it was better to announce her presence before the woman started panicking. "Are you feeling okay?"

The woman turned her head to Pyrrha's direction. "Is someone there…? I'm sorry, my hearing's not very good these days…"

"It's fine," Pyrrha told her. "How are you feeling?"

"…like shit." The young girl couldn't help but giggle at the woman's crass choice of words. "Sadly, I've gotten so used to feeling like this. I thought I felt better than normal, so I tried to walk around the place, but as you can see…" She sighed deeply, sinking her head further into the pillow. "The maids will be quite angry with me, I imagine… Ah, I'm sorry. I never introduced myself to my little savior, did I? I'm Cherie."

Pyrrha curtsied despite knowing the woman would not see it. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Cherie."

"You sound quite young, my dear… How old are you?"

"I turn six in four days," Pyrrha told her.

The woman smiled wryly. "Is that so…? You have the same birthday as my daughter. It must be quite exciting, to have your first Day of Age."

"I guess… To be honest, I don't really understand the point of it. How will I know if good things are supposed to come my way? And am I really supposed to just let such things dictate my life?"

"You never know what the future holds. It's always better to think optimistically… You know the old saying, yes? Of how the dawn always comes after the long night?"

Pyrrha giggled. "My father's mentioned it many times, yes."

A lulling calm settled across the room, the budding conversation between them peaceful and serene. It helped that the rays of the moon hit her window just right, accentuating Cherie's beautiful features. Her maroon locks, however mangled, framed her cheeks just right. Her eyes seemed so much brighter. At some point, Pyrrha's small hands found Cherie's and gently held them. Her skin was soft, and her hands wonderfully warm.

"Do you have any siblings here, dear?" Cherie suddenly asked.

Pyrrha shook her head. "No, I am an only child," she told her. "Truth be told, I'm somewhat thankful for that. I'm friends with the Randell sisters, Arya and Vyline. The older sister is such a handful that Vy has to be the voice of reason between them. A boy I like, Jaune, he once told me he had seven sisters and he was the youngest out of all of them."

"Seven?!" Cherie was aghast. "Good lord… I can scarcely imagine what his poor mother went through."

"What about your daughter? Does she have a sibling?"

Cherie's smile dimmed. "…in another lifetime, she would've been the younger sister. My husband and I, we tried so hard, but our first child… He was stillborn." Her hands gripped Pyrrha tightly as if afraid. "Not a day goes by that I wonder what my child's life would be like if she had an older brother to play with… She must despise me."

"What makes you say that?"

"Because neither I nor her father could give her a normal life," she told her miserably. "Her father is someone important here in Maple Leaf. Because of that, everyone has high hopes for her, even though she can't ever follow in her father's footsteps. I ask the maids about her every day. They tell me how she studies so hard…"

"You never asked her if she hated you?"

"I'm something of a coward, you see. I can't bring myself to face her. In fact, I've naught seen her since the day she was born," Cherie confessed with a tired sigh. "She looked so tiny, so small and frail… I wanted to hold her and never let go. I feared for her future, yet because of this damned body of mine, I can't even muster the strength to see her." She shook her head in frustration. "Her birthday is coming up soon, and it's her Day of Age no less. I thought if there was a better time to try… But, as you can see, I failed even that."

Pyrrha squeezed Cherie's hand back. "I don't think she hates you," she said. "I think you're a wonderful mother who's trying her best."

"And my best isn't good enough."

"It doesn't have to be," she shot back quietly. "No one has to be perfect…"

Once upon a time, Pyrrha thought she needed to be at her best at all times. It was the expectation and thoughts of everyone around her, of the people who adored her and called her the 'Invincible Girl'. For a time, she genuinely believed that. If she faltered or misstep even once, just once, all of those people would criticize her and chastise her for not doing better. Over time, though, Pyrrha realized at some point it did not matter whether she kept up appearances because they would never see Pyrrha Nikos. All they saw, all they could only ever see, was the Invincible Girl.

A dorky blonde with a charming smile, a boy so disgustingly average he made her heart flutter, was the only person to actually see her and not the girl everyone put on a pedestal. More than that, he and six others taught her a much more important lesson.

"It's better to try and do something and regret failing than doing nothing at all."

Cherie's eyes widened in surprise before smiling widely. "My husband told me that when we married," she said. "Even when those closest to him were opposed to it…" She raised her hand, gently running her thin fingers through Pyrrha's scarlet locks. "You're quite mature for a girl who's not even in her teens yet. Your parents must be very proud of you."

"I could deal without father coddling me so much," Pyrrha joked.

"Impossible. Don't you know, dear child? It's the job of a father to coddle his only daughter because he fears the day she will one day become a woman that no longer needs him. He will still be in her life, yes…. He will still be her father… But, she will no longer be that beautiful baby girl, so ignorant and innocent of the world around her. She will be the woman who wants to see the whole world, no matter if its good or bad…"

Their conversation lasted well into the night. As the moonlight waned, Cherie's eyes grew sleepy and her speech slurred until, at last, she succumbed to exhaustion. The princess watched her as she fell asleep, chest slowly rising and falling. Pyrrha never let go of her hand.

"Good night, mother…"


Day 16 of Seventh Moon Cycle
Year 1916

The morning, as Pyrrha expected, was hectic. The maids arrived early as they always had, and not even her best attempts to distract or delay them could stop them from entering. The head maid, Sally, saw Cherie in her bed and nearly fainted on the spot. Pyrrha begged the maid to keep this quiet from his majesty, not wanting to cause unnecessary drama and feeling she should tell him herself. Sally agreed, otherwise still stunned from seeing the royal consort in the princess' bedchambers.

Figuring it was only a matter of time before King August learned of this, Pyrrha elected to take the initiative and speak with her father immediately. Ever the doting father that would never pass up the opportunity to spend time with her, King August happily agreed and let her into his study.

"I met mother last night." Pyrrha wasted no time and told him of her encounter.

The red-haired monarch stumbled, catching himself on his desk before he tripped and fell on his face. He whirled around on her, shock all over his aging face. "You what? I don't—how—when?"

"She was passed out in the halls when I found her. She wanted to see me since my Day of Age is coming up."

King August sighed, seemingly aging a decade as he dragged a hand down his face. "Oh, Cherie… Her heart is in the right place, but she cannot be pushing herself…!" He shook his head and recollected his composure. "Is she still asleep in your bedroom?"

"Yes," Pyrrha nodded. "I asked Sally to look after her." An awkward silence filled the room. She thought back to her mother's milky eyes and thin figure, numbly gripping the hem of her frilly dress. "You told me she was sick, but… I-I didn't think it was that bad."

"Cherie's sickness is hereditary, I'm afraid," King August told her solemnly. "She inherited it from her mother. Did she…" he swallowed. "Did she tell you about…?"

"That my older brother was stillborn? Yes, she told me," Pyrrha nodded.

"I see…" King August sighed again, deeper this time with slumped shoulders. "When we lost our first child, her health took a nosedive. When we had you a few years later, she fought long hard to ensure you were born safely. That pushed her body too far. We hoped she would recover, but as the years go on, her condition grows worse by the day."

Pyrrha saw his hands shaking, knuckles ghost-white. He did not outright say any such awful words, but the implications were as clear as day. "How long?" Pyrrha forced the words out through gnashing teeth.

"…the doctors say she will not live past the seventh moon cycle."

There were thirty days in a month. Pyrrha was born on the 19th. In other words…

Eleven days, she thought angrily. Only eleven days to know the woman who helped bring me into this world. If that.

Pyrrha did not believe in the divine. She heard the stories of the Brother Gods of Remnant and the Twin Gods of Sileos. If she had, she would curse them.

"That's not fair…"

"Life, as I came to learn in my youth, rarely ever is." King August knelt down to eye-level, reaching out to grab his daughter and wrapped her in his arms. Pyrrha felt the scruff of his beard against her neck, the thick muscles under his arms holding her tight. "I'm sorry for being so useless, my daughter. I've tried everything, fought so hard, and in the end, all I can do is apologize for not being a better husband and father."

Tears dripped onto Pyrrha's cheeks. She felt King August trembling as he held her close to his chest. Similar feelings of frustration welled up in her chest, albeit for different reasons. Since being born in this new life of hers, Pyrrha always wondered what sort of person her mother was. After five years of asking, the woman appeared before her, only to learn she had such a short time left on this earth. Barely enough time to get to know, understand, and form a genuine bond.

She had eleven days to connect with a stranger. A loving, caring woman who deserved nothing but happiness for what she endured.

It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair…


Day 19 of the Seventh Moon Cycle
Year 1916

Throughout the capital city of the Maple Leaf Kingdom, every street corner and household was locked in throes of joyous cheers and celebration. Gold-and-red decorations hung about from every house, every stall, even draping across the statue of the founder of the Maple Leaf Kingdom. Within Oakhaven Palace, the festivities were far and above much greater to the point the cheers within could be heard even from the city below. The party itself surrounded the Maple Leaf tree standing proudly above the palace.

Numerous nobles from across the realm gathered in celebration of the princess' first Day of Age, many hoping to curry favor from the king. The gifts were certainly elaborate and priceless, though many of those same nobles brought along with them their children. Some had genuine intentions, whereas the rest aimed to make a connection with the royal family through the bonds of their children. They would find their efforts stalled, if not blocked completely by two factors: The Randells and the absence of the princess herself.

It was no secret among the noble circles that the Randell heir and her adopted sibling were close friends of her highness, nor was it a secret that the Duke was among Septem von Estelise' closest comrades. The relationship between the two was subject to no small amount of contempt, especially among the old-standing families who could not understand how or why a mere lowborn family could be allowed to ascend to the ranks of nobility. The king's reforms were absolute, however, and all they could do was harmlessly bark like dogs.

Incidentally, an interesting rumor began cropping up as of late. The adopted child of the Randells, one of the reasons why the family was so mistrusted among the nobility, supposedly swore herself to her highness and aimed to become her Honored Knight. Many nobles scoffed at the prospect, but few others did not share in their fellows' cynicism. It had been some time since an Honored Knight was named, the last having appeared eighty years ago in the last decades of the Maple-Iron Three Century War. A small minority of nobles, fans of underdog stories and hoping to witness the appearance of a new Honored Knight, voiced their approval and hopes for the young Randell girl.

As for the princess' absence, it went unnoticed at first. The party had just stared after all, and the king had yet to appear and make an announcement. It was his older brother and Regent, Septem, who allowed the festivities to begin. The nobles, ever excited to celebrate a royal Day of Age for the first time in years, rushed to get everything into full swing. Five hours into the party, and still no one noticed the princess' absence. It was not until people started noticing that the king was also missing that the nobles began to whisper among themselves.

"What's going on? Where is King August?"

"Princess Pyrrha has to make herself known, either. How strange. From what I've heard…"

"Perhaps something happened that required their attention?"

"What could it be?"

"His Majesty's favored concubine, no doubt. They say her health grows worse by the day. His Majesty once visited the Empire in search of treatment, only to return empty-handed."

The members of high society continued chatting amongst themselves, keeping their voices hushed lest they warrant the Regent's attention. They did not think for a moment he would allow them to spew such words so frivolously, for if they had, he would come down upon them with burning fury.

The Randells, all four in attendance, watched the proceedings from a spot close to the throne. Some guests, mostly acquaintences and friends, came to offer greetings and spoke for a bit about the upcoming tourney. They listened to the gossip around them and frowned.

"Damned vultures, every one of them," Meldia said with fake serene as she sipped from a glass of wine. "So desperate to curry favor with the king, yet so easy to badmouth him and his family when he's out of earshot."

"They compare him too much with his father," Duke Randell said. "Though that depends on who's talking."

Vyline, who remained mostly silent among the gossip and doing her best to withhold her tongue lest she say something she might regret, looked up at the Duke. "What do you mean?"

"The previous king, depending on who you ask, was either a benevolent man who wanted what was best for the Kingdom, or a warmonger who wanted to see the Empire burnt into cinders. He led some of the most brutal campaigns near the end of the war. The only reason he had so many supporters was because of his sister mitigating the worst of his impulses."

Arya frowned. "His sister was Princess Des, right?"

"Des Ember von Estelise," Meldia nodded. "The Crimson Princess, beloved for her beauty and her mind. She was no general or tactician, but she had a talent for bureaucracy. She had the whole court dancing in the palm of her hands with naught but a few words."

"Another thing that fucking war took from us," the Duke snarled. Vyline and Arya flinched away in response to his words. "They never found the bastard who shot her dead."

"Nor did they find the one who poisoned the king," his wife added. "Assuming you believe the talk that the Boy King offered up a scapegoat. Enough of this talk, love. 'tis a time of celebration, and I'd rather not sour the mood for my star pupil more than this affair already has."

Duke Randell smiled wryly. "As usual, you're right."

"Where is Pyrrha, anyway?" Arya asked as she looked about the room for the umpteenth time. "I want to show her what we got for her!"

"Sister…" Vyline groaned.


It would be a long time before Pyrrha von Estelise and King August arrived to join in the festivities.

Near the southernmost wing of the palace, the king, his consort, and his only child sat in a room. Father and daughter sat by Cherie's bedside. The room was surprisingly empty barring required necessities, having only a bed and fireplace. The sole decoration was the portrait of King August and Pyrrha, the latter two years old then and sitting on her father's knee. The fireplace was lit, filling the room with warmth.

"You're joking!" Cherie said between laughs. "That happened?"

"It did," King August grinned. "I've never seen Pyrrha look so mortified."

The former Invincible Girl sorely wished the earth would swallow her and spare her from this suffering. "I thought we agreed never to bring up the chocolate batter incident." It wasn't her fault her arms so darn short or that the kitchen staff would be so opposed to her trying to cook! So what if she was a princess? She was still a person, dammit!

Her indignant expression only served to make King August laugh harder, in turn eliciting the same reaction from Cherie. Compared to their first encounter, she was considerably more lively.

The days leading up to the Day of Age were fraught with worries and concerns, mainly on Pyrrha's end. King August continued to hold onto slim hopes in contrast to his consort's seeming resignation to her fate. Pyrrha had no idea what to say. What could she say when Cherie no doubt heard it all before? "It'll be fine." "You'll get better, don't worry." "I'll find a way to save you. I promise." No doubt she heard it all before, even as the end neared.

Some days, Pyrrha wondered how Cherie could smile, knowing she would die and leave all her loved ones behind. How did she have the strength to smile? Was she not scared?

Those questions gnawed at Pyrrha's heart every day until now. She wanted to ask Cherie where she found the strength, but somehow, spending time with King August and her made all those worries and fears melt away. A warm sensation blanketed her, as if she were standing beneath the sun in springtime. She thought back to the happy days of when she was not Pyrrha Nikos, but a budding young girl studying for Sanctum Combat School and spending time with family and friends. She thought back to the days when she met Jaune, the rest of JNPR, and Team RWBY.

There was not much time left. Even so…

I'll treasure these memories, Pyrrha swore.

"Is something wrong, Pyrrha?" Cherie asked. "You've been awfully quiet for a while now."

The girl forced a smile to her face. "It's nothing," she assured her. "I just… I love hearing your stories, mother. Do you have any when you met father?"

"H-hey, now…" For some reason, King August's voiced went tight. "There's no need to…"

Cherie's smile was full of teeth. "I'd be happy to, my dear. It all started when this bumbling oaf…"

"Cherie!"

Thoughts about the party were the furthest thing from her mind. Pyrrha knew and understood the nobles would think her arrogant or shirking from her duties as princess for not attending her own Day of Age celebration. She cared little, as she should have cared not to listen to the expectations of her peers and 'fans'. Let them speak their minds and criticisms. All she cared about, here and now, was spending time with her family.

Here and now, this moment…was all she needed.


Next Chapter:

Oakland City and the Runaway Princess


Like I said, this chapter was exceedingly difficult. Normally, I don't channel stuff I've endured IRL into my writing barring the usual feelings of excitement and passion for what I'm writing, but in this case, I wanted to convey some of my own experiences with losing a loved one. It's never an easy feeling. It's nauseating, it hits you every day, and you can never fully get rid of it. It also doesn't help that, around the time I was writing this, Christmas was around the corner.