A/N: Good day, people! After rereading the first chapter, I've come to realize that I in fact didn't describe what armor Aran wears. Put simply, she wears the Late Allagan set. No dyes, as it's just naturally dark though I've found it's unnaturally reflective, which I like.
Interactions with Team RWBY are going to be rather few until the Vytal Festival stuff starts. I think it's rather fitting, as nobody in RWBY would really interact with anyone from ARY anyways outside of class unless it's Ruby's fascination with weapons or Weiss's interest in what Y'Shtola did during initiation, but I've a plot brewing to get them more involved.
Hellfiredarkness: Glad you're enjoying it. The intention is to post between 5k-10k word chapters, with one per week, give or take a day or two depending on what I've got going in with life. Keep letting me know what you think, and if there's anything you'd like to see more or less of!
Join me in my office tonight after you have found your room. We have much to discuss.
Aran reread the note in her hand once more, handing it off to Y'Shtola as the three members of their team boarded the elevator to Ozpin's office. Unlike before, it began to move on its own.
The note was written in Eorzean scripture, though some of the characters were off. Not enough to render it illegible, which is what kept Aran on edge.
The Miqo'te grabbed Aran's hand and began signing.
Say nothing here. Observed.
The Warrior raised an eyebrow at Y'Shtola, who merely shrugged. Nodding, she waited patiently for the elevator to stop moving. When the door opened, she was greeted by Ozpin sitting at his desk, his cup in hand as he played an enlarged video of Y'Shtola creating the shard of ice responsible for shearing the wing off the Nevermore.
"Do come in. Feel free to take a seat, if you'd like."
The trio did so, watching Ozpin rewind the video to play again.
"Two of you fascinate me, while Miss Waters makes me think of this whole situation like a puzzle. One of you can create a barrier for protection, likely not using your Semblance. Another, can harness the elements. One could almost say it's… magical."
Aran glanced at the Miqo'te in confusion, then shrugged.
"Of course it is. The manipulation of aether allows for many things; a simple shard of ice is child's play for either of us," Aran answered. "It's nothing special. Anyone learned in the arts can, if they have a sufficient amount of aether and mana within themselves. We could teach Ryne here if she displayed the interest."
Ozpin chuckled as he stopped the video. Reaching into his desk, he pulled out three devices matching the one he had on his desk. The Headmaster distributed one to each of them before he spoke.
"I'm afraid that's where you're quite wrong, at least in this day and age. Keep this ability under wraps, lest you attract the wrong sort of attention. Since you've already demonstrated your ability to use it in front of everyone, Miss Ruhl, I would recommend calling it your Semblance, regardless of what your true one is."
"We're already in the process of creating an alternative weapon for her, fret not." Aran replied.
"Good. Now then, on to business. I've asked the resident historian here at Beacon to program these scrolls with Erzan scripture. It's very likely that the grammar will need some work, as it was a literal translation of one character to another, but it should suffice for now. I would recommend thanking Professor Oobleck when you meet him in his class."
The three nodded, beginning to rise until Ozpin raised his hand.
"One more thing. If I am otherwise not available for any reason, seek out Professor Goodwitch. On top of being your combat instructor, she also knows most anything I know about what is going on around Beacon. You may return to your dorms."
Without a word, the three left. The Headmaster sighed as he grabbed his scroll and stood, walking over to the window overlooking Vale. Opening his scroll, he navigated through his contacts until his thumb hovered over a name. Taking a couple moments to gather his thoughts, he tapped the name and waited for the other end to answer.
"Ozpin?"
"Hello, James. I believe we may have encountered a snag."
"Well… that could have gone worse." Ryne said as the trio sat on their beds. Or rather, she on hers while Y'Shtola joined with the Warrior.
Both Ryne and the Miqo'te glanced at Aran as she stared at one of her armored hands distractedly. Despite the distraction, she voiced her thoughts on the matter.
"Without a doubt. But there's something he isn't telling us."
"He's the headmaster of a school, of course there is." Ryne stated. Aran shook her head, drawing her gaze up to the Oracle.
"Something pertaining to us. Something pertaining to magic. Mayhaps it's connected, or perhaps completely separate. Either way, I have a feeling that by seeking succor from him, we have involved ourselves in something that he seeks to keep hidden. We have spent long enough being pawns in the struggle between Zodiark and Hydaelyn; I for one refuse to play to Ozpin's tune."
"You have a plan, then." Y'Shtola noted with a confident smile.
"Aye. We'll go along with him for now, as I can't even cast the simplest of spells without breaking my control over the Light within me. This will give us time to familiarize ourselves with this Shard, perhaps even find the shard of me that either now acts, or will act, as its hero."
As she spoke, she reached up to her visor and began to remove it.
"But there's something I would like for you to confirm, Ryne. You've looked into his eyes, yes?"
Ryne nodded in affirmation.
"Good. Look unto mine own eyes, and tell me what you see."
"Careful," Y'Shtola muttered into Aran's ear. "You're starting to channel your inner Urianger."
Aran smiled thinly at her lover's words, waiting for Ryne's verdict.
"There's… something hidden behind your eyes. Like the flickering lights of a city, yet hidden in darkness. His were the same way."
The Warrior nodded as she stood up and placed her visor on the wooden nightstand next to the bed. She grimaced as she realized that she would need to build a stand for her armor at some point.
"Indeed. I'll not get into this now, however. We have things to do on the morrow, and I for one would not be tired for it. Besides, the last time I can claim to have had the luxury of a shower was in Eulmore. Care to join me, Y'Shtola?"
"You're an incorrigible concupiscent, you know this? Of course I'll join you."
Ryne pointedly looked away to hide her blush, earning a smirk from both of her companions.
"My, look at that rosy shade dusting those pale cheeks. Are you perchance having naughty thoughts in that head of yours, Ryne?"
"Leave me out of it! Seeing you both once was more than I had ever intended on seeing!"
"My dear Y'Shtola, I think that was an insult to our forms." Aran pouted.
"My dear Aran, I do think you are quite correct. Don't worry Ryne, you'll finish filling out eventually."
"Go!"
The trio walked down the halls of beacon, following the map laid out on their scrolls. For the most part, the translated characters worked, though it became clear after some exploration of the devices that it was not perfect. Some characters were found to be mistranscribed, while another few held no meaning. Regardless, they made it work.
"So… Grimm Studies?" Ryne asked, prompting Y'Shtola to nod. The three of them wore the uniforms delivered to them earlier that morning, though they refused to surrender their weapons to a locker. When the woman who delivered their uniforms - a Professor Peach - insisted, the combined stare down by the foreigners convinced her to go away, with the promise of talking to Ozpin.
In the absence of the leather loops built to hold their weapons on their armor and robes, Aran had dug into her enchanted bags and pulled out three leather belts with loops similar to those on their previous attire. Smiling, she handed the corresponding belts out and asked them to try them on, allowing her to get the measurements needed to adjust them to their size. A quick fix later, and Aran had them both able to carry their weapons normally.
"Yes, Grimm Studies. The books that were delivered to our room yesterday go over what they are, weaknesses to be exploited, nesting habits, and more besides." The Miqo'te answered. "I'm actually quite surprised that it wasn't the first one you picked up, Aran."
"Coming from the one that ignored history in favor of a bestiary? The feeling is mutual, lover."
Ryne smiled at her teammates' banter, being one of the first times she recalled them ever having such a benign conversation that wasn't relevant to protecting something or someone, or otherwise pure flirting. She ignored the slight blush that formed when she remembered the noise they had made, even through the sound of the shower and wall.
They arrived at their class with ten minutes to spare, allowing them to choose seats in the center row of desks. As they did so, a short rotund man in the center of the room waved to them. The three waved back, earning a smile from him as he returned to messing with a large object covered in cloth.
More students arrived as teams, all of whom they recognized as fellow first years. It was right as the bell rang that Team RWBY, the final team, burst through the door in a rush. The man, who introduced himself as Professor Port, chuckled and pointed them to their seats.
The class itself was, Aran admitted, very dull. Despite this, she made sure Ryne was paying attention to Port's story once she realized he was doing more than simple boasting. During the man's story, Y'Shtola leaned over and mentioned that the way this man had defeated his prey was not listed in the Grimm Studies textbook, and perhaps meant serve for that purpose.
The class came to a close with Weiss being selected to face Port's challenge, a Boarbatusk that he had captured and placed in a cage. Her attitude towards her leader caused some raised eyebrows, along with a sigh of disappointment from ARY's leader.
"It's not our problem at the moment." Aran had told Ryne when she asked about what could be done. "It's for their team to figure out. If another team were to intervene, it would invalidate Ruby's authority even further in Weiss's eyes. I'll only step in if we're forced to work with them, or if I were to be asked directly by one of them to do so."
To the Oracle's credit, she caught on to what Aran was saying immediately. The rest of their classes that came were uneventful beyond learning the names of Professor Peach, whom they had already met, and Professor Mulberry.
After classes and dinner, they retired to the workshop to work on Y'Shtola's chakram. By the time they left, Aran was happy to say that the weapons could be finished by the end of the week, if they were to follow their current schedule.
The next day started with History with Doctor (He didn't earn that degree for nothing!) Oobleck, who started the class off by asking about their homeland. Y'Shtola and Aran took the lead, answering only with vague and cryptic responses so as to avoid mismatching information the man might have known. It was partially successful, though it was painfully obvious that the man was bursting at the seams with questions left unasked by the time he brought his class back on track with his lessons.
During said lesson, Aran had to nudge the adjacent Jaune Arc awake, earning a groan from the boy while his partner gave her a thankful nod.
This spurred an official introduction between the two teams in the cafeteria. It became obvious to JNPR that Ryne was the youngest compared to Aran and Y'Shtola, seen both in her desire to make friends as well as her eagerness to be social. While the other two members of ARY weren't exactly pushing anyone away, they always kept a social divide between them and anyone who wasn't them. Y'Shtola spoke to the members of JNPR only when spoken to, while Aran acted more as a caretaker than a fellow student.
The result was Aran and Pyrrha forming a strange sort of friendship that revolved around them talking about strategies to make sure her teammates were staying awake during classes and other time-management ideas. The more Jaune listened in on the two, the more concerned he grew. What he missed were the knowing smirks that Aran and Pyrrha exchanged when they saw him begin to sweat bullets at their most recent idea.
Noting the time, Aran told them that class was starting soon. The rest of the day passed similarly as the previous, with the only exceptions being learning Professor Greene's name and Professor Goodwitch's combat class. Apparently starting on some rough theory on combating humanoid opponents, the most exciting part to Aran was hearing that spars would be starting that Friday, then occuring twice a week from then on.
After dinner, they had once more retreated to the armory to work on Y'Shtola's chakram. It was here that a debate had broken out among them. More specifically, Aran against her lover and Ryne.
"But I can use aether to expedite the process of fusing the two metallic compounds. I should think it necessary as well, if we want it to do as we discussed before." Aran protested.
"We can't risk the Light breaking you again. Especially inside a place such as Beacon." The Miqo'te argued. "I've seen you when you're crafting your cartridges. Even with the small amount they require, your aether fluctuates dangerously."
Aran was seated at a workbench, where four loops sat along with a plethora of tools, most of which bore signs of usage. On the far right, some space had been cleared to allow for Ryne to sit on the bench itself and observe, as well as copy Aran's actions on one set of loops.
"Fighting requires more aether than crafting cartridges."
"And when you're fighting, you have a tighter control on your aether. 'Tis only natural. But there is a reason that we were asking so little of you before we came here. Emet-Selch may have -"
"Hades. His name is Hades. Emet-Selch is a title, much like Azem." Aran muttered.
"Whatever it may be, Azem, he was hinting at knowing or suspecting something about you and the Light." Y'Shtola took a deep breath, calming herself as she noticed Aran's knuckles turn white. "My apologies, that was uncalled for. I'm only trying to provide succor to the one I love. At the very least, can I not do as you were going to? I may not have mastered any disciplines of the Hand, but I know my aether."
"Perhaps…" Aran muttered, accepting the Scion's apology. "What if we were to infuse Dust into the chakram, as opposed to making them draw aether from their surroundings? The Dust would have to be replaced, of course, but it would perhaps increase its effectiveness in areas where aether runs dry and you would rather not burn your mana just yet. If you were to use these in the Burn as they are, before Hien's barrier, they would merely be a sharp piece of steel. This way, you could perhaps retain their usefulness even outside of this Shard, when our abilities would be rendered useless."
Y'Shtola nodded as she thought of Aran's proposal.
"Yes, it could work. Allow me fight in an area without using my own aether. But how would we do so? Unless I miss my mark, it seems you would need to add some form of container for the Dust. Like a… I believe they call them magazines?"
A chuckle came from the doorway, drawing their attention. Leaning against said doorway was Professor Mulberry, stroking his long, finely kept beard.
"I say, that would be something to see! I can't claim to understand all this talk about aether, but I didn't become this academy's Weapons Crafting instructor for nothing. It sounds to me like you're just wanting to add a simple elemental trough throughout your chakram for the Dust to flow through. Would you perhaps like some guidance?"
With the aid of the burly man, Aran was able to not only finish the troughs, but also begin on the mechanism that would grind the Dust within the magazine.
The group finally left just after midnight with an excuse from Professor Mulberry to explain their late night trip back to their dorms. Aran allowed her team in first, before telling them that she was going to the roof in order to do some thinking. It looked as though Y'Shtola was going to protest, though she bit it off at the last moment and simply nodded, sending her off with a smile.
As Aran walked, her thoughts made her lose track of time. Before she knew it, she was on the roof where she found another troubled soul staring into the moonlight with crossed arms.
"Ardbert?" Aran asked, surprised. The man turned to look at her with a smile and nodded.
"Indeed. I'm as surprised as you are, if we're being honest. All I wanted was to try to help, so I reached for the Light with you. And full glad am I that I did. Being stuck in the First with nobody to talk to again? I don't think I could take it."
Aran smiled, stepping up alongside the man. She reached into her pack and retrieved a crystal, holding it out to Ardbert.
"Is that… Branden's crystal? When did you pick that up?" He asked in astonishment.
"I thought you were always watching?" Aran teased.
"I-I mean… I figure you deserve to have your privacy every now and again."
"A gentleman, I see. Yes, it's Branden's. I also have with me Renda-Rae's and Lamitt's. My own as well, of course, though that should go without saying."
Ardbert gazed at the crystal fondly, before frowning.
"What about Nyelbert?"
"I wasn't able to finish hunting his corpse down. I'm sorry, Ardbert."
"Don't be. Having even one of my companions with you means more to me than you would believe."
Ardbert's gaze rose from the crystal, returning to the moon. His frown thinned slightly, before he spoke again.
"Ozpin's hiding something, though I suspect you know already. I'm surprised your Miqo'te friend hasn't sensed it already, but there's a lot of aether beneath this school. Whatever it is, I can't get near it. Don't trust that man further than you can throw him."
The Viera nodded as she put the crystal away.
"I never intended on doing otherwise. Any thoughts on the substantially less aether upon this Shard, or even which Shard it is?"
That earned a chuckle from the man.
"I'm no scholar, Warrior. I've not lived four centuries dedicated to using aether as a weapon. I swing my axe and hope for the best, leaving the theoretical side of things to Lamitt and Nyelbert."
"For whatever good that does me at the moment," Aran grumbled sourly. "I can't even use my aether right now."
Ardbert blinked, a smile reaching the tips of his lips.
"Ah, right. Because someone possessing such a large store of aether as the Warrior of Light, and being able to weaponize it wouldn't be a scare to this world?" He asked with mirth.
"Good point."
"Aye. Better get some rest, sinner. You've classes in the morning, and I suspect you're in need of a shower."
After bidding the spirit goodnight, Aran left, unaware of the golden eyes that had followed her the moment she had come to the roof. The head attached to those eyes cocked slightly, wondering why the woman had been speaking to herself.
The last day of classes for the week had finally arrived. More importantly to the Warrior, sparring in combat class had arrived. Preemptively, she had donned her armor in anticipation.
Unfortunately for her, she had yet to be selected to spar, a fact which she grumbled about as she watched Jaune and Cardin spar.
It was clear that Cardin was still possessing a mean streak after her words with the boy, but she was glad to see that he at least helped Jaune up after the spar ended with Jaune's crushing defeat.
"Perhaps we should offer to help Jaune?" Aran asked Pyrrha as Goodwitch explained the Aura meters once again. "Mayhaps disguise it as a group training session, so as to avoid hurting his pride. I know I have work to do with teaching Y'Shtola and Ryne with their weapons."
Pyrrha nodded in agreement, something that Goodwitch apparently caught sight of.
"Miss Vinland, Miss Nikos, if you're busy talking, perhaps you'd both like to come down next?"
Pleasantly surprising Aran, Pyrrha donned a similar grin to her own, sending a shiver of anticipation down her spine. Like her, Pyrrha had come to class in her combat attire.
"Of course, Professor Goodwitch." They answered in unison.
Pyrrha went to grab her weapons from her locker, while Aran simply jumped down into the ring from where she was sitting, earning a look of disapproval from the Professor as she drew her gunblade.
"Why Ozpin agreed to allowing you three to keep your weapons on you at all times, I don't think I'll ever understand." The blonde muttered. The arrival of Pyrrha, having sprinted into the room, shot down any response Aran had.
"Now then students, this will be the same as before." Goodwitch started, tapping several times on her tablet. The board above them displayed Pyrrha and Aran's respective Aura levels, though Aran's was oddly fluctuating, the meter sinking and returning back repeatedly.
Glynda glanced at it with a frown, then returned to the matter at hand.
"The first one to have their Aura sink into the red will decide the victor. Combatants, take your places."
Aran and Pyrrha did so, taking their respective stances. A buzzer sounded, signaling them to begin.
In the blink of an eye, Aran was upon Pyrrha with a Rough Divide, shocking most of the onlookers with her speed. The fact that Pyrrha's body was pushed back a couple feet as her shield intercepted and deflected the thrust was cast aside as the Mistrali champion attempted an ill-fated response with Miló in its spear form, swinging wide and allowing Aran to grab Akoúo roughly and drag it to the side. A brutal kick inserted itself below Pyrrha's ribs, removing any air from her lungs.
In that instant, Pyrrha's grin took on a feral gleam, despite the pain she felt. Using the momentum from the kick, she backpedaled and deflected Aran's gunblade once more, carefully keeping her range in check while transforming Miló into its xiphos form. It seemed that her rifle and spear forms would be unnecessary for this fight.
Meanwhile, the students were all stunned as they watched the previously termed "Invincible Girl" from Mistral lose first blood to a woman that only a few of them had even seen beyond a passing glance, much less spoken to.
"Did that… just happen?" Weiss asked nobody in particular. "Perhaps just beginner's luck?"
Weiss's words were proven false in the next exchange of blows. Pyrrha had taken initiative and swung with her xiphos, baiting Aran's guard to open and allow her to strike with her shield. To her credit, it worked, as Aran batted the sword aside with her own weapon, leaving her side open to be struck with the shield. And strike she did, although she realized at the last moment that the Warrior had little regard for taking a minor blow if it allowed her to deliver a much more devastating one.
The shield made contact with her shoulder, even as her gunblade stabbed forward once more, this time with flame exuding from what Pyrrha now recognized as a gun barrel. Too late to move her body, she instead used her Semblance to try and move the weapon to the side. To her horror, the Warrior's grip was far stronger than she had imagined, only managing to move it an inch.
The inch was enough to move the blade just far enough away from her center mass for the blade itself to miss. The detonation of the Burst Strike was another story, however, as the concussive force pushed her away, flames licking her form hungrily before fading.
"Excellent reflexes, Pyrrha," Aran praised, slowly walking towards the woman regaining her balance. "Should we kick it up a notch?"
"Not too bad yourself, though I'm not sure if I can go much harder than I currently am."
The toothy smile Aran gave the redhead sent a shiver down her spine.
"Sure you can. You've been limiting yourself, locking away the primal instincts every person possess and use in life or death situations. Instead of locking it away, you need to learn to embrace it!"
Her statement was punctuated with a Gnashing Fang, both strikes slamming into Pyrrha's shield. The combo continued with a Jugular Rip, Savage Claw, and Abdomen Tear, each blow scratching across the shield and leaving grooves in the construct. Each blow further pushed Pyrrha back, every attempt to relocate countered by the deadly grace and precision of Aran's attacks. And with each time she was denied, Pyrrha felt her heart pump a little bit harder, filling her with adrenaline that she couldn't remember coursing through her veins in this quantity in recent memory.
When Aran attempted her Wicked Talon, Pyrrha finally struck back. Time slowed to a crawl in Pyrrha's world as she parried the blow and stabbed forward with Miló augmented with her Semblance, catching Aran's breastplate and pushing. She was shocked when, in that same crawling pace, her sword began to sink through the metal and into the woman's flesh beneath as opposed to stopping at her Aura.
Any fears for the woman were cast aside when she felt a truck in the form of Aran's knee make impact with her gut, followed quickly by an armored fist finding the back of her head as she was doubled over, sending her to the ground.
She rolled on instinct whilst releasing her shield, saving her from a viscous downward thrust of Aran's gunblade. Seeing the blade sink into the floor, Pyrrha pushed aside the disturbing thought of her Aura potentially not being enough stop that weapon from tearing into her and instead lashed out with her own leg, attempting to bring the Warrior down to her own level.
She was only partially successful, wincing as her shin made impact with the metal covering Aran's knee. The impact made the woman stagger enough to throw her off balance, giving Pyrrha the opportunity to grapple her opponent's arm and pull her down.
Or so she had hoped. When she pulled, it felt like she was trying to drag a concrete wall down. The arm released the gunblade's hilt to Pyrrha's relief, but that was quickly dashed as she realized the fingers had curled into a fist and were now heading towards her stomach. Too late, she realized, to roll out of the way or try to deflect the blow. Even as the fist drove what little air she had managed to recover right back out, she reached for her shield with her Semblance, ignoring the black spots that had begun to obscure her vision.
The only warning the Viera had to the shield coming from behind her was a brief scraping of bronze. But that warning was enough for a warrior of her caliber, allowing her to step to the side as the bronze blur whistled past her and into Pyrrha's hand. Aran smiled as she retrieved her weapon.
A brief glance up at the board revealed Pyrrha's Aura hovering at just over half, while her own still fluctuated oddly between full and around four fifths.
Her attention went back to Pyrrha, who looked to be struggling to stand while gasping for breath.
Well, Aran thought to herself, I can't have her regaining her breath. After all, she wanted to see what this talented huntress in training could do when she was backed into a corner.
Some would call Aran's coming actions rather cruel, if effective. Some of those people who would take issue with it would be Team RWBY with the exception of Blake, who saw the brutality the Viera was about to display as a way to dispatch an opponent. But not Jaune Arc, who could see his partner's excitement even from where he sat, exhausted from his fight with Cardin.
A short-ranged Rough Divide delivered Aran inside of Pyrrha's guard, having counted on the red-haired champion to deflect her lunge. True to form, she watched the xiphos cleave the air towards her, the tip still colored crimson in Aran's blood.
The Warrior stepped further into Pyrrha's guard and grabbed the wrist holding the blade. With a rough yank, the female hoplite was pulled off balance and tripped by Aran's sweeping foot, which stopped and rose to become a heel aimed directly for her stomach with no way to counter it. Once more, the champion's vision eluded her, failing to see the foot rise again, falling back into the same spot. Again, and again, until Pyrrha rolled away weakly.
"Stand up, Pyrrha. You're not this weak, listen to your instincts!"
Aran's words fell on near-deaf ears, but they still bore an effect as the breathless woman lashed out with Miló in desperation. She felt the weapon jar against steel before being ripped from her grip straight up. Next came Akoúo, thrown at the sound of an armored footstep. She vaguely heard it make impact with something, only to see in a pinpoint of vision that returned to her that Aran had caught it was now tossing it aside.
The redheaded champion's brain desperately sought a solution in its oxygen deprived state, failing as she felt that foot make contact once more in the same place. Then, she felt something within her snap. And then her Aura acted to her need, a need to do something to the woman who fought her.
The Warrior saw it happen in an instant, the dazed look upon Pyrrha's face be replaced with raw emotion.
Shards of steel ripped from support beams around the room, from anything that Pyrrha's Semblance could affect, shooting towards Aran. The shield and sword previously cast aside were no exception, though Pyrrha felt a strange inability to affect her opponent's armor or weapon, despite her previous manipulation of the weapon. Perhaps, she would later come to the conclusion, only a very small portion of it was a metal she knew of.
This reaction was what Aran had been waiting for, though she would admit that she wasn't expecting to be needing to defend from so many projectiles. She already knew that Y'Shtola and Ryne were going to kill her for what she was about to do, but she would deal with it.
She gathered aether in her gunblade and slammed it into the ground, casting a shoddy Collective Unconscious. To her shock, it came not as the usual blue shield she was used to, but as a translucent white shield that pulsed with her own aether, it's luminosity nearly matching that of how she saw the Light within her.
But the barrier did its job, stopping all of the incoming shrapnel and other objects. The moment the onslaught finished, Aran let the barrier fall as she fell to her knees, pain wracking through her body. Ignoring it as best she could, she looked up at the Aura meters on the screen, and smiled.
Pyrrha's was on the verge of red, while her own was empty, slowly refilling with its fluctuations.
"Pyrrha Nikos is the victor. An excellent, if barbaric, fight." Professor Goodwitch stated to the silent room. She watched Aran stand, walk over to the gasping hoplite, and offer her a hand.
"Magnetism?" Aran asked the champion as she pulled her up. Pyrrha gave a weak shake of her head.
"Close… polarity. What was… that shield?" She returned with a smile as she attempted to breath. An ache kept forcing her to exhale what little air she was able to draw in.
"My Semblance is a barrier, though it drains me quite a bit to use it. No hard feelings I hope?"
"No! I haven't felt that… excited, in years. We have to… do it again."
Professor Goodwitch raised an eyebrow.
"The next time you do, I would request you keep the bloodshed to a minimum. Miss Vinland, I trust you can see yourself and Miss Nikos to the infirmary?"
The two combatants both nodded, while Y'Shtola and Ryne both rose from their seats.
"We can make sure they get there, Professor." Y'Shtola stated.
"See that you do." Glynda answered, waving them onward and returning her attention to the rest of the class. "Any questions?"
Ruby Rose raised her hand, though she didn't wait to be called on in order to protest Aran's actions.
"What she did was… was… horrible! How can you condone that, Professor Goodwitch?"
The woman didn't hesitate.
"While yes, her actions were brutal and something even I found distasteful, it was within the boundaries of the rules. In fact, Miss Vinland was quite smart to take advantage of the fact that Aura does not stop blunt force from driving air out of our lungs. Keep that in mind, students. Not even someone with a very large Aura reserve can remain conscious if they cannot breath. Class is dismissed."