A/N: Here we are, folks. We've finally made it. Get ready for a chapter of discussions, of much-needed explanations, and of tying everything back together. It'll be a ride.

Laws of Attraction

The elevator opened up at the very top of the CCTS tower into Professor Ozpin's office after what felt like an eternity. Pyrrha winced as the last rays of the setting sun streamed into the elevator as she stepped out, blinding her for just a moment.

The office of Beacon's headmaster was surprisingly empty. The back wall was entirely formed of clear glass and supporting columns, offering a lovely view of Vale in the distance. Built into the glass itself was a giant clock face which was visible even from the campus grounds. The gears of the clock extended up into the ceiling, each piece whirring and clicking rhythmically. Sitting right in front of the grand clock was a large, ornate table free of everything but a single Beacon coffee cup. On either side were two chairs, with one currently occupied by the headmaster himself.

Pyrrha glanced left and right, noticing only one other small table set off to the side. Turning back to the front, she approached the table, where a smiling Professor Ozpin stood up, waiting. "Miss Nikos, thank you for joining us today," he said cordially, gesturing for her to take the open seat.

"It's no problem, sir. Thank you for waiting until the matches were finished for the day," she replied easily, sliding on the most amicable mask she could.

He nodded knowingly. "Yes, I was watching the live showing from here. You did an excellent job. Most students struggle far more with the antigravity platforms. Congratulations on your victory!"

She nodded back, straightening her shoulders as she sat upright in the chair.

Professor Ozpin continued, "I'm assuming your team is sending you off to the final round?"

Chuckling in embarrassment, Pyrrha averted her eyes to her hands, fiddling with her gloves awkwardly. "Well, yes, sir."

The man chuckled, gesturing to her kindly. "Well, it comes as no surprise that they've chosen you to move on to the final round of the tournament. Your performance has been exemplary."

She replied automatically, "Thank you, Professor Ozpin, but I would have never made it this far without my teammates."

Suddenly, a husky voice from behind spoke up, startling her. "Personally, I think it's the other way around."

When did someone else come in? A little stiffly, Pyrrha swivelled out of her seat to look at the speaker. Leaning against a column near the back of the room was a lean, somber-looking man with dark, grey-streaked hair, wearing a dark red cape. All the world's weariness seemed to be upon his shoulders when he shifted, red eyes watching her carefully.

She tried her best to politely reply, "I'm sorry, but I don't believe we've been introduced."

The man narrowed his eyes, raising his stubble-covered chin in greeting. With a wary sigh, he replied, "Name's Qrow."

Professor Ozpin explained, "Qrow is a trusted colleague of mine."

The redhead turned back to look at the scowling man, the name repeating in her head for a moment. Finally, her eyes fell back onto the red cape hanging behind his back. Wait… wasn't Ruby and Yang's uncle named Qrow?

However, Qrow was clearly still suspicious of her- for what reason, she didn't know. So, turning back to Professor Ozpin, she pressed, "Professor, if you don't mind me asking, why have you called me here?"

That welcoming smile never faded. "Please, take a seat," he insisted. Mutely, she obeyed, resting her hands on her lap primly.

The white-haired man leaned back in his chair. Clasping his hands together, he asked, "What is your favourite fairy tale?"

That was not the question she had been expecting. "I'm... sorry?"

"Fairy tales, stories from your childhood," the man urged, betraying nothing. "Surely you must remember some of them."

She frowned, searching her memory for a moment uncomfortably. Soon, however, the answers flew to mind, riding in on a wave of nostalgia. Before Dad died, they both loved to read me fairy tales, she thought warmly. Aloud, she said, "Well, there's The Tale of The Two Brothers, The Shallow Sea, The Girl in the Tower..."

Cutting her off, Professor Ozpin leaned forward onto his desk, intrigued. "What about The Story of the Seasons?"

She couldn't keep the smile off her face when she heard the title. "Well, of course!" In her mind, she could practically hear her mother and father taking turns to read that story to her as a child. Wistfully, she explain, "A callous old man, who refuses to leave his home, is visited by four traveling sisters. The first understands his reclusive nature and urges him to use his time in solitude to reflect and meditate. The second brings him fruits and flowers, tending to his crops and revitalizing his garden. The third warms the man's heart, convincing him to step outside and embrace the world around him. And the fourth and final sister begs him to look at all that he has, and be thankful." She exhaled, slow and assured, eyes misting over slightly. "In return for their kindness, the man grants the maidens incredible powers, so that they may continue to help others all over the world. They graciously accept, and promise to share their gifts with the people of Remnant until the end of days. Winter, Spring, Summer, and Fall; the four maidens." Bringing her gaze up to meet his, she said instinctively, "My mother loves that story."

And, just like that, the joy fell away from her heart. It had been a long, long time since she had spoken to her mother about silly things like fairy tales.

I… miss her. Are these stories really the only thing I have left?

Unaware of her sadness, Professor Ozpin continued, "Would you believe me if I told you that one's been around since I was a boy?"

Pyrrha laughed lightly, shoving down the bitterness in her heart. "You're not that old, Professor."

"Well," the man replied- and suddenly, his playful nature fell away in an instant, leaving behind a cold, piercing stare, "would you believe me if I told you it was true?"

He didn't make a move to continue on. Qrow didn't speak, either. An unnerving silence filled the room, until she finally chuckled uneasily. "I beg your pardon?"

There was no trace of the previously-welcoming smile on his face. "What if I told you that there were four maidens existing in this world, that could wield such tremendous power, without Dust?" He frowned, gauging her response.

What in the world is he talking about? I don't understand… Chills were climbing up the back of her spine, the hairs on the nape of her neck raising in the tense atmosphere. She stumbled, "You mean... like a Semblance?"

The man leaned forward, looking up at her over his dark, wiry glasses. His expression relaxed momentarily, a small smile appearing. "Like magic."

Magic? There's no such thing as magic. She swallowed heavily. If there was, then why do the Grimm still exist? Why has no one used it to save the victims?

If magic is real, then why did Dad still have to die?

Looking down, she began, "I…"

Qrow scoffed behind her, and she spun around in her seat, awaiting his next words. "Yeah. First time hearing this, it's pretty crazy," he commented dryly. There was no trace of a smile on his face, though.

Slowly turning back to the headmaster, she murmured, "You're serious?"

Deadpan, the man replied, "Do I look like I'm joking?"

She shuddered, looking at her hands fiddling with her skirt. None of this was making any sense. "…No." She paused, struggling to find the right words to express just how delirious this whole thing sounded. Yet, no matter how hard she searched, there was absolutely no way to refute the two men- not when they looked as if the world itself was about to end. "Why- why are you telling me this?"

She watched as Professor Opzin glanced over her shoulder, presumably to stare at Qrow. His eyes were searching, concerned. After a moment, though, he seemed to find his answer. With a quick nod towards the other man, he refocused his attention onto Pyrrha, boring holes into her very soul. "We are telling you, Pyrrha Nikos, because we believe that you are next in line to receive the Fall Maiden's powers."

There was no lie in his eyes.

Her heart stopped, eyes growing wider and wider, the words not making any sense. Suddenly, one odd phrase stuck out at her, painting the whole situation in a new light. "'We'?" she asked, trying to hide the tremor in her voice.

A ping from the elevator startled her. She shifted around in her chair, blankly taking in the arrival of two new figures. Stepping out into the spacious office, Professor Goodwitch adjusted her glasses, with General Ironwood straightening his tie by her side.

"Sorry we're late," the tall Atlesian soldier murmured.

Their newfound presence sent a shot of fear straight into her heart. She had been right, hadn't she? Something was wrong with the world, with this tournament, with the presence of the Atlesian military, with the eyes following her and the Grimm and the darkness inside her heart-

So? What are you going to do about it? the little black box snickered, rearing its ugly head fully for the first time since the start of the tournament.

She nearly screamed.

Pivoting back to face the headmaster, she narrowed her eyes, mask falling slowly but surely to pieces. Overwhelmed, she asked accusingly, "Wait, what is this? Who are you?"

She kept her gaze locked on Professor Ozpin, searching his eyes desperately as the other three began to speak. She needed answers, but she wanted them from the headmaster. For too long had she been feeling trapped by his little conversations, his quiet queries, his unusual interest. For what? For this?

Behind her, Professor Goodwitch insisted in a reassuring voice, "You know who we are. We're still the same teachers and Headmasters you met when you arrived at Beacon."

Qrow added, "'Cept we've got a little part-time job."

"We are the protectors of this world," she heard General Ironwood announce.

Professor Ozpin's straight-faced stoicism fell away to a vulnerable, almost ashamed resignation. "And we need your help."

At this admittance, Pyrrha felt her jaw drop open in shock, brow furrowed tightly. She dropped her gaze back down to her hands, which lay curled up and grasping nothing on her lap. Her fingers felt numb, arms heavy.

Shaking her head, she stood, casting a quick glance over to the other three warriors. They stood in a line, watching her with varying expressions- Qrow looked serious and professional, Professor Goodwitch's eyes were frustrated and concerned, and General Ironwood was taciturn, as if he watched nothing more than ranks falling into line.

Standing up on shaky legs, she wandered to the window. No one in the room spoke, thankfully- she was able to stand quietly with her thoughts. The sky outside was still bright, a pale orange which flooded the room in the most gentle light. And yet, the rays never hit her as she leaned upon a column, breathing in, out- 1, 2-

But it didn't help.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the small table she had seen earlier. Mutely, she approached it, forcing herself to focus upon something other than her racing thoughts, her furiously beating heart. A game of chess was set up upon the tabletop, ivory and ebony pieces casting long shadows across the board in the evening glow. Many of the pawns were lost already, but the major players on both sides remained on the battlefield.

The ivory king was in a precarious position. In a few moves, he'll be in check, she realized distantly. The ebony queen was dangerously close to potentially cornering the king and ending the game. If anyone else could move between them, the game could continue on.

There was a singular white rook still at its base on the field, and the path between it and the king was clear.

"It's a game I've been continuing with an old acquaintance," Professor Ozpin suddenly said, breaking the silence. Pyrrha nearly jumped at his sudden words, surprised to find the man right behind her. She hadn't heard his approach.

Tapping his cane onto the ground with a somber expression, the man added, "It's black's turn." Leaning over, he used the dark queen to knock out a pawn, leaving only a knight between her and the king. Meeting Pyrrha's gaze, he nodded. "Go ahead. They won't mind."

Swallowing heavily, she looked back at the board. There was no way to take the queen out of play. The only choice left was to protect the king.

With trembling hands, she picked up the rook, running gloved fingers over the grooves of the tiny battlement at the top.

"What will you do, Miss Nikos?" Professor Ozpin pushed. "Once you touch a piece, you must move it."

She held the piece in her hands, closing her eyes. The memories flooded back- she could still picture the bright morning of the Beacon initiation when she had first properly met her team. She had held a white rook in her hands that day, too.

Since then, Professor Ozpin had never treated her the same.

Oh my god.

She placed the rook back down in its corner, then grabbed the king with her other hand. Raising her gaze to meet his, she deftly castled the two, moving the king to safety and putting the rook in potential harm's way.

Professor Ozpin nodded sagely. "Let's go, Miss Nikos. We must show you something."

The four adults walked to the elevator and, when they saw she made no move to follow, beckoned her along.

I'm going to be sick, she thought numbly, swallowing bile back down, out of her otherwise-dry mouth. I'm going to be sick right here.

Yet, she followed.

As the elevator doors began to close once more, she kept her eyes locked on the chessboard.

She really was the rook in the game. Who was the enemy? Who was the king? A castle's job was to keep the king safe. Was that the role of the 'Maidens'? To keep whoever-it-was safe?

This is why he kept asking me whether I really want to be a Huntress, she thought, the realization finally dawning on her. He was waiting for this.

But the doors had to close completely at some point. She stood with the headmaster and the blonde Huntress on either side, with the general and Qrow breathing just over her shoulder. She wrapped an arm around herself, grabbing hold of her other arm tightly, trying to quell the shaking of her shoulders. As the box began to move downwards, the steady beeping which signalled each passing floor continued on and on, the anxiety only growing in the pit of her stomach. She didn't remember the elevator ride up being this long.

Glancing at each of the figures by her side, she asked nervously, "Where are we going?"

With both hands folded on top of his cane, Professor Ozpin finally looked at her. "The vault," he replied shortly, "under the school."

When the elevator halted its descent at last, the doors opened to a starkly different atmosphere than before. The reflective tiled floor shone a sickly green from the dim lamps lighting the way, barely enough to fill the cavernous ceiling. Cold air rushed into Pyrrha's lungs as she finally inhaled deeply, chilling her to the bone. She held her hands apprehensively in front of her, eyes wide in fear at the sudden stretch of darkness before her.

This is all wrong. This shouldn't be here- I shouldn't be here.

Hesitant, she took a few careful steps out into the darkness. To her surprise, while the others continued down the echoing hall, Professor Goodwitch paused, waiting for her to catch up. "I'm sure you must have questions," the woman said kindly.

Still utterly stupefied, Pyrrha mumbled, "Maybe one, or two..." They began walking once more, side by side. "I still don't understand. You said I was next in line to receive the Maiden's power. What do you mean by that?"

"The Maidens have existed for thousands of years. But much like in nature, the seasons change. No two summers are alike. When a Maiden dies, her power leaves her body and seeks out a new host, ensuring that the seasons are never lost, and that no individual can hold on to that power forever," the blond explained primly, as if she was reciting it from a textbook.

Pyrrha frowned, hunching over slightly. The darkness was unsettling. "So, how does the power choose?"

Over his shoulder, Qrow sneered, "Through a series of stupid and convoluted rules."

"Qrow," Professor Goodwitch growled in warning.

In a huff, Qrow turned back to face the front, sticking his hands in his pockets. "Hey, don't get mad 'cause I'm right."

Sighing heavily, the Huntress turned her attention back to Pyrrha. She looked troubled, as if trying to find the most delicate way to put it all. "At first, the only thing that was certain was that the powers were specifically passed on to young women. But as time went on, it was discovered that the selection process was much more... intimate."

The redhead gulped. The echoing of their voices and footsteps was starting to frighten her even more. "... Intimate?"

"As we understand it now," Professor Goodwitch continued, "when a Maiden dies, the one who is in her final thoughts is the first candidate to inherit her power."

"Unless it's a dude or some old hag. Then the power goes to someone random, and our jobs get a lot harder," Qrow chimed in.

Unable to hold back, Pyrrha asked, "Why tell me all of this now? Why not wait until I've graduated?"

Qrow sighed. "Honestly, we've run out of time. I don't know if you've noticed, but things are getting a lot scarier out in the world. Tensions are high. Grimm are growing stronger, more prevalent. And it's not going to be long before this peace we've been enjoying for so long goes out the window."

Her heart fell, and she squeezed her clasped hands tight, desperate to work some sensation back into the digits. "You're not... talking about war?"

Quietly, General Ironwood corrected, "Not a war between nations."

Looking back at her once more, Qrow added, "We can fill you in on the details once we know you're with us. For now, all you need to know is that one of the Maidens was attacked. And for the first time in history, part of her power was stolen."

Pyrrha brought her eyes to Professor Ozpin's back, the man wordlessly walking straight ahead throughout the entire exchange. In her heart, she longed for the moment to come when he would turn around and smile and pull out a cup of black coffee, telling her that it was all a joke, or that it wasn't anything she had to worry about.

He didn't.

They soon reached a large chamber, the humming of machinery buzzing through the air as the adults finally stopped their journey. In front of them was a large machine, covered in multiple glowing monitors. On either side sat large capsules with a clear glass panel looking within. And, in the left pod, a woman wearing only a breastband and undergarments lay, illuminated by faint lights within the vessel. Even from a distance, Pyrrha could see the horrible scar marring one eye, scabbing in little spines over the rest of her face.

No… Stepping forward hesitantly, Pyrrha whispered, "Is that..."

The headmaster sighed, taking a moment to collect himself. "The current Fall Maiden, Amber."

At the sound of her name, the body stirred, expression scrunching up ever-so-slightly in pain.

The redhead felt her knees shake. She wrapped her arms around herself once more, taking in the horror of it all. "She's... still alive," she breathed.

The general nodded carefully, arms held behind his back, standing at ease. "For now. We're using state-of-the-art Atlas technology to keep her stable. But there is a lot about this situation that is... unprecedented."

Blinking rapidly, trying to clear away the fog in her eyes, Pyrrha pressed, "What do you mean?"

However, the man simply sighed, closing his eyes tiredly. "Well, we don't know what will happen if- when she passes."

She insisted, unrelenting, "Won't her power just transfer to the next host?"

Sarcastically, Qrow called out in a loud voice, "Look who's been listening!" Leaning over to the headmaster, he whispered, "She is smart."

With a slight nod, General Ironwood agreed, "Under normal circumstances, yes. But this is a delicate situation. It's not uncommon for the last thoughts of the slain to be of their attacker." He glanced sadly at the girl in the vessel. "And to make matters worse, no one's seen the power split like this before. For all we know, it will seek out its other half."

Its other half? But wouldn't that be… "Her assailant," she murmured aloud, putting the pieces together at last.

Pivoting to face her, the headmaster said, voice low, "And that would not bode well for any of us."

The weight of the implications in his words hung heavy in the air, settling upon Pyrrha's neck like a chain. She hung her head, letting it all sink in.

This is real, isn't it? This is really happening. Carefully, she walked over to Amber's pod and placed a tentative hand on the glass. The young woman looked just a bit older than she, but the wound on her face- what looked like a horrible burn- had aged her, creating wrinkles and scar tissue that would never fade.

This girl was asked to go through all this suffering, and for what?

Suddenly, Pyrrha's eyes flashed, seeing red. She slowly turned around, barely containing her anger and frustration. "If all of this is true," she finally muttered, her voice raising against her will, "why keep it secret?" She gestured wildly at the stoic faces around her. "If this girl is so important... if- if we're truly on the brink of war, why not tell everyone?" Her voice quavered, but she finally built up the courage to look everyone in the eyes, accusing and broken-hearted for the broken girl behind her, and for her own broken trust.

When no one could give her an answer, Professor Goodwitch took a step forward to explain. "From what we understand, it used to be common knowledge."

Pyrrha froze, narrowing her eyes. She had been expecting excuses, or explanations, or something- but not that. "Excuse me?"

Qrow pulled out a flask from his pocket, uncorking it tiredly as he walked towards her. "How do you think legends and fairy tales get started? Even the craziest ones come from somewhere." With a wry smirk, he took a hearty swig of liquor.

The Huntress added, "Our group was founded in order to protect both mankind and the Maidens. Those hungry for power hunted them with the hope of inheriting their strength."

Finally pulling his lips off of the flask, Qrow elaborated, "And as you can imagine, the ones that succeeded weren't exactly the kind of people you'd want to have unimaginable power."

"And so our brotherhood chose to remove the Maidens from the public eye, allowing their existence to fade away into legend," General Ironwood said somberly.

Professor Goodwitch sighed, an almost pleading tone entering her voice. "The things we're telling you go against hundreds of years of human history, religion."

Bitterly, the general added, "No one would want to believe us. It'd cause an uproar-"

"It would cause panic," Professor Ozpin interrupted. "And we all know what that would bring clawing to our Kingdoms' walls." The man turned away from the others, regret emanating from his features.

This is all wrong, Pyrrha thought to herself as they spoke. This isn't how it was supposed to be. Being a Huntress was going to be a life of light, of saving people and of building peace. It wasn't supposed to- to be whatever this place is. She looked back up at Amber's face, heart shattering once more as she saw the young woman's face twitch in pain, the scar tissue almost pulsating. This is what is going to bring us peace?

Picking up on his guilt, the other three adults turned away from Pyrrha, avoiding eye contact.

Her eyes widened, flying between Amber and each of them.

Oh my god. They really want me to be the next Maiden, don't they?

Based on how they had described the role, having the powers of a Maiden seemed nothing more than a curse. Looking at Amber, she didn't doubt it.

But, the black box whispered, who else will be able to protect it, if not you? She stopped stock-still, reeling at that new thought. Will Ruby be next to take it? Will Yang? Will Weiss? Coco? Velvet? Blake?

What if they try to corner Nora with this?

She wanted to scream.

Brokenly, she lowered her gaze to the ground and replied to the sinister voice, This sort of power would break them. I won't let them go through this.

The headmaster continued, voice hesitant and unsure, "Which is why we would like to-"

Pyrrha stopped him short, quietly interjecting, "I'll do it."

I will never run. If I do, who will protect everyone?

"If you believe this will help humanity…" she raised her eyes, resolve filling her earnestly, "…then I will become your Fall Maiden."

Rather than celebrate her announcement, the four Huntsmen simply shared looked of wary surprise.

She asked tiredly, "That's what you wanted, isn't it?"

Professor Ozpin stepped forward, clutching the handle of his cane so tight that his knuckles practically shone white in the dim lighting. "It is, but I'm afraid it's not that simple. Given Amber's condition, you won't be able to inherit her power naturally. However, General Ironwood believes he has a solution." He gestured towards the taciturn man stiffly.

Straightening up, the general explained, "For the past few years, Atlas has been studying Aura from a more scientific standpoint; how it works, what it's made of, how it can be used. We've made... significant strides." He pulled his arms behind his back once more, finally meeting her gaze. "And we believe we've found a way to capture it."

Qrow shuddered. "Capture it and cram it into something else." The man waved towards Pyrrha lazily, "Or in your case…"

She frowned, trying to understand. But you can't capture Aura- you can read it, assess it, manipulate it… but you can't remove it and put it somewhere else. An Aura is such an inherent part of the soul…

Her heart leapt into her throat. Her father's mantra passed through her mind. For it is in passing that we achieve immortality. Through this, we become a paragon of virtue and glory to rise above all, infinite in distance and unbound by death. I release your soul, and by my shoulder protect thee.

'Release your soul'- he had used those words to trigger the awakening of her Semblance, to help her channel her Aura as a child.

Your Aura is like your soul.

She gasped. Semblances- and, presumably, magic- were so inextricably linked to one's Aura, that in order to forcefully use one, they'd need the other. If they removed Amber's Aura, then the only logical vessel would be Pyrrha herself.

"That's-" she breathed, looking up at General Ironwood in horror.

"Classified," the man coolly evaded.

"-wrong!"

Professor Goodwitch crossed her arms, glaring up at the Atlesian man. "The feeling is mutual. But desperate times call for desperate measures." She looked back at Pyrrha with defeated eyes.

"And these are indeed desperate times," the general insisted. He stepped forward from the line, eyes probing her. "We can't transfer Amber's power to you, but we can give you what those powers are bound to."

I was right. "…Her Aura."

Professor Ozpin bleakly explained, "Her life would become intertwined with yours. The question is..."

Qrow raised his head, swaying slightly. "What's that gonna do to you?"

If her Aura is forced into me, then… I'll become a Maiden. I'll gain the power to use magic. But… who will I become? The dread began to creep back into her heart, slowly eating away at the resolve she had, just moments ago, worn with such pride.

"You have an important decision before you, Miss Nikos," Professor Ozpin stated quietly. "There's no guarantee this transfer will work. And there's no telling if you will be the same person if it does. I advise you to take time to think on this matter. But understand that before the Vytal Festival is over, we will need your answer."

She didn't respond. Instead, she looked back at Amber, stepping up to the window between them. Placing her hand back onto the glass, she looked at the girl within.

A shiver ran down her spine when she realized just how easily the reflection of her own face aligned with Amber's, marred with pain… not even allowed the solace of death. A shell of her former self.

Is this what I might become?

The black box started to almost pulse within her gut, and she clutched her stomach, praying that the entire evening was all just a dream. This isn't where my destiny was supposed to lead me. She took a deep breath- in, out- 1, 2-

It still didn't work.

The headmaster added, "The assailant that attacked the Fall Maiden has made their first move. And there's no telling when their next move will be."

"I understand," she whispered. "I'll… tell you by the end of the finals." Her voice cracked despite her best efforts to retain her composure, and that was all it took to break the air of tension that had smothered the five of them.

Instantly, Professor Goodwitch was by her side. Wrapping an uncharacteristically tender arm around her shoulders, the blonde mutely began to guide Pyrrha back down the hall towards the elevator. As they passed the three men, Qrow looked to the side, General Ironwood kept his gaze locked onto Amber's pod, and Professor Ozpin…

For the first time in the last eight months, Professor Ozpin looked genuinely broken. "I'm so, so sorry we must ask this of you, Miss Nikos," he murmured.

The redhead paused a few steps past the man. "I would do anything to protect people," Pyrrha muttered. She glanced over her shoulder, cursing herself for not being able to blink back the tears which inadvertently welled up in her eyes. "But you've known that from the start, right, Professor Ozpin?"

There was a small sliver of her that gained a bitter sense of satisfaction when she saw his eyes widen, his brow furrow, mouth slightly agape, guilt overtaking his features completely before she walked away with Professor Goodwitch.

The trip back to the dormitory was a blur. Professor Goodwitch accompanied her the entire way, not saying a word. The sun had long since set, and not a soul was out in the central part of the campus grounds.

Finally, they reached her doorstep. Awkwardly, Professor Goodwitch sighed. "Look, Miss Ni- Pyrrha," she began, clearly exhausted. "I know that this has been an incredibly tiring day. I know that this must be so difficult to process- there's so much happening right now, between the tournament, and now this. I know that what we're asking of you isn't fair. And for that, I'm deeply sorry. We all are." The woman reached up and cupped a tender hand around Pyrrha's cheek, looking into her eyes. "But we couldn't have asked this of anyone else. From the start, it had to be you, don't you see? You're such a bright young woman- it's been such an honour to have you as a pupil."

Pulling away from the woman's touch, Pyrrha whispered, "Why are you speaking as if I'm no longer your pupil? …as if I've already agreed?"

The woman froze. "I- I apologize." She cleared her throat, opening up her Scroll. "I'll ensure that you're not on the roster for the first match tomorrow. However, since the finals matches are randomized and chosen the day-of, and since all competitors need to be in the arena before noon, I still need to ask you to be present at the start of the matches tomorrow. I'm sorry- if I could, I'd give you more time to sleep in."

"To be honest, ma'am, I don't think I'll be sleeping tonight," Pyrrha sighed, staring blankly at the door.

"Yes, well-" The woman fussed with Pyrrha's bangs, then clapped the girl on her shoulders. "You'll do well in the finals, Pyrrha. Make Beacon proud. You deserve this chance to shine more than anyone. Now, try and get some rest." With that, the woman walked back to the academy buildings, leaving Pyrrha outside of the dormitory, alone and in the cold.

Slowly, the girl trudged inside, heading back to Team JNPR's room. They had had an early start that day in order to watch Team CFVY's match, so everyone was probably sleeping already. But how could she sleep?

Her stomach grumbled faintly. She hadn't eaten anything after her match. So, she wandered to the lounge on her floor. Opening up a few cupboards, she sighed- nothing was appealing, and the thought of filling her stomach made her want to gag.

Leaving the shared lounge, she headed down the hall to her bedroom. Tiptoeing inside, a wave of relief washed over her distantly. The lights were off, and the three other beds were filled with quietly sleeping bodies.

Shuffling over to her bed, she smiled weakly. Nora had laid her weapons out lovingly on the foot of her bed, alongside a little plate of pancakes covered in plastic wrap. She silently placed the food onto a study table, then put her armour away in the closet. Pulling on her pyjamas and a few extra warm layers, she sighed, feeling some of the chill that had set in during their trip to the vault finally melt away.

Hiding in her and Nora's shared walk-in closet, she pulled out her Scroll. The device was still opened up to Professor Ozpin's message. How was I supposed to know that going to see him would lead to all of this? she asked herself bitterly, squatting on the floor. Curling up into a ball, wrapping her arms around her knees, she let out a long, shuddering breath. How was I supposed to know?

Stepping out of her closet finally, Pyrrha walked over to her nightstand, lifting up the edge of the curtains to peer outside. It seemed, for all intents and purposes, to be a completely tranquil night- not a soul was wandering around outside.

If I say no, then someone else will eventually be chosen to take on the Maiden's powers. But how long will they have to search for someone? They think I can handle it- but if I'm the only one who can actually survive this sort of transfer, then how on Remnant will they find another woman to take on this responsibility at such short notice?!

She pinched the bridge of her nose, then pulled off her circlet, setting it down on the bedside table. I don't want to say no if this will protect people. Especially since they say that the attacker is already making their move- the people are going to be in danger. They need someone to protect them.

Suddenly, Jaune moved in his sleep, startling her. Pyrrha managed to clamp her hand over her mouth in time, stifling her surprised yelp, so the boy didn't wake. Instead, he mumbled in his sleep quietly, rolling over so he faced her. Thanks to the slightly raised curtain, the light from the lamps outside spilled onto his cheeks, turning his blond hair into strands white-gold, his skin to ivory.

The black box began to scream. If you say yes, it cackled, then you might never be the same. Will you even be allowed to stay at Beacon? It was all too good to be true, wasn't it? Jaune won't be by your side anymore! With two Auras, won't you become a monster?

She clutched at her chest, biting her knuckles to prevent her muffled gasps from slipping out as the invasive thoughts continued to barrage her with her worst fears. She was going to be alone again. Everything she had worked so hard to hold onto would fall apart. Was this her punishment for wanting too much?

The wind began to roar in her ears, and she shuddered, slipping off of her nightstand onto jellied legs.

Just breathe, you'll be alright, you can do this- you promised not to run, you're going to fight-

But no matter how much she breathed in, out, in, out, it just didn't work.

Her breaths grew more and more desperate, the oxygen suddenly not enough to fill her lungs. Her vision swam, her eyes growing misted over- was she fainting? Was it tears? Was she losing her mind? She just didn't know. The darkness of the room was terrifying suddenly, too reminiscent of the hidden vault, of the shadows, of the echoes-

She lifted her face up, staring at the window. She could see her reflection in the glass, faintly outlined against a dark Vale sky.

The amount of pain on her face made her look just like Amber.

No!

The helplessness which threatened to drown her was only broken by Jaune's familiar voice, the boy sleep-talking, "Stop it, it's fine, we'll win, together," before the boy's words became incoherent once more.

She opened her mouth, but her tongue refused to form words, too thick and heavy to move. His voice was like a breath of fresh air, a beacon in the storm- if he kept talking, she would find her way home again.

But do you really want him to see you like this? the black box mocked, and she shivered even harder.

No. No, she didn't want him to see her like this- tears welling up, trembling uncontrollably, nothing like the warrior who had stood confidently on the battlefield that day.

Like this, she wasn't qualified to protect Jaune.

I'm not strong enough like this.

Collapsing onto her knees next to his bed, she leaned forward, gingerly brushing his hair out of his face. The boy's sleeping face was calm, a slight smile tugging his lips. Biting her lip to keep the tears at bay, she leaned forward, cupping his cheek with one tremoring hand. His warmth soothed her instantly, but it only lasted a moment before the guilt rose up like bile, and the urge to vomit returned, dizzying in its intensity.

I've finally found the way to protect you for sure, she thought miserably through the haze. And yet, why would it lead to losing you all the same? Why can't I fulfil my dreams, meet my destiny, and keep the one I love?

Before she knew what she was doing, Pyrrha leaned forward, pressing her lips tenderly against Jaune's forehead. Carefully pulling away, she then pressed her forehead against his, their noses brushing one another.

The tears finally began to flow. One dripped down her cheek, falling onto Jaune's skin unbidden. She shuddered, swallowing the sobs which wracked her silently to the core.

If I say yes, I'll never be with you again.

"Please, Jaune," she whispered, voice breaking, "if you're awake, keep your eyes closed. Pretend to sleep. I just- please let me have at least this."

He didn't reply. And soon, when his gentle presence became too much to handle, and the panic began to take control of her fully, Pyrrha fled into the night, leaving nothing but a whisper of wind, an indent on her coverlet from where her weapons had been, and a tear on Jaune's cheek, to prove she had ever been there.