On the Other Side.
Part III: Face to Face.
Pyrrha began to feel nervous as she approached the ancient-looking wooden doors of the lighthouse. The lighthouse itself was forty feet tall by Pyrrha's estimate, covered in chipped and peeling red paint. It was a pretty simple lighthouse, as far as lighthouses went, except for one glaring flaw. Instead of a sweeping beam of light, the top of the lighthouse seemed to be projecting a ray of solid darkness. And that wasn't the only strange thing going on. Pyrrha felt as though it had taken her hours, or maybe even the better part of a day or two, to reach the lighthouse, but Pyrrha didn't feel winded in the slightest, which she supposed made sense considering.
At some point during her trek, she wasn't sure when, her pajamas had changed into more sensible and comfortable traveling clothes; a baggy pair of swimming trunks and a loose-fitting cream-colored tee-shirt, with a fantastically comfortable pair of sandals. The Sun hadn't gone done very much in all that time, and when she looked back she could still see the fisherman standing in the distance. He raised an arm and waved to her, she thought, and a sudden banging made her turn back to the lighthouse. Someone in a yellow raincoat, who certainly hadn't been there before, was standing about twenty feet off the ground on a ladder that also hadn't been there before, nailing a fresh pair of decayed-looking boards over a dirty window. Approaching the lighthouse, Pyrrha cupped her hands to her mouth and shouted, "Hello, there! Are you the lighthouse keeper?"
Upon the ladder, the person turned and looked down to her, their face and figure hidden by the hood and expanse of their coat. Rather than reply, they simply pointed down at the lighthouse's door, and then turned back to their hammering. Deciding she wasn't going to getting anything more from what she was starting to suspect was some kind of specter, Pyrrha made her way to the door. Pyrrha was about to put her hand on the doorknob, but she stopped and started thinking. If there was someone waiting inside, it would only be polite to knock first, right? She raised her fist and began to rap smartly upon the ancient oaken door, but after the first knock the door screamed at her and she jumped back, drawing Miló out of reflex.
"What was that for?" demanded a creaky voice that seemed to be emanating from the door itself, rather than the other side. Now that Pyrrha thought about it, she thought she could make out a vague approximation of facial features etched into the lines and grooves of the wood. Then the wood contorted to form a much more definite-looking face, complete with a mouth and nose; two black pebbles emerged from the door to serve as beady little eyes.
"I…I'm very sorry," said Pyrrha at once, sheathing her weapon and bowing humbly. "I didn't realize…"
The door started laughing and said, "I'm just messing with you, kiddo. I never get tired of pulling that one on the new arrivals. You fall for it every time! Seriously though, I'm made of wood. I don't feel pain, and even if I could I wouldn't because pain isn't really a thing on this side."
"Oh. I see…um, may I enter, please?" Pyrrha asked.
"Of course, of course; if I weren't supposed to let folks through, I'd be a wall! Or at least I'd have a lock. Anyways, my job is to make sure you don't accidentally intrude on someone else's tearful afterlife reunion, so listen close; you wanna go straight down the hall, take the third left, then the second right, take the first elevator to the ninth floor, down the hall to your left to the second flight of stairs on your right and down two floors, go down aisle six, hang a right between the granola bars and the instant coffee, then the second left after Men's Footwear, and then straight on to Room P-17. If you start seeing movie posters and smell popcorn, you went too far somewhere. If you start hearing construction or opera, you went too far somewhere else. Got it?"
Pyrrha blinked for a few seconds, and then she said, "Um, could you maybe repeat that one more time, please? Or, is there a map, or a piece of paper and a writing utensil I could borrow?"
The door started laughing again. "Nah, I was just joking! Just open me up and I'll let you right into your assigned meeting room. Careful though! My knob is very sensitive, if you know what I mean." The door's face began waggling its 'eyebrows' suggestively.
"…please tell me that's a joke as well," said a blushing Pyrrha.
"Yep! Enjoy your reunion!" said the door as it swung open, revealing an inky black void. Pyrrha stepped inside, and the door slammed shut behind her. For a moment she was in a state of near-total sensory deprivation. She saw nothing, heard nothing, smelled nothing, and tasted nothing. The only thing she felt was the floor beneath her feet, and even then it didn't feel like a floor so much as a vague sense of solidness, devoid of any discernible texture. Then, after a moment, the void around her began to resolve into the form of a room. First, a wooden floor appeared, spreading out from under her feet like a ripple on a pond. Next, four beige-colored walls rose up from the edges of the floor. Then the room began filling with various details; two twin-sized beds, a round little table with seats for three, a TV sitting on a dresser, a kitchenette, a nightstand with a lamp on it, and finally a door on the other side of the room. Pyrrha turned around and found that there was no door behind her, only a window. She pulled aside the curtains and her breath was taken by a gorgeous sundrenched desert vista.
"Spectacular, isn't it?" asked a voice behind her. Pyrrha whirled around and saw that another woman was now stretched out on one of the beds. She hadn't been there before, but Pyrrha had difficulty believing she had opened the door, crossed the room, and laid down on the bed in the short time her back had been turned, all in complete silence. She wrote it off as more afterlife weirdness.
"So it's you," Pyrrha said, surprised by her own calmness. She didn't know what she thought she should be feeling. Sadness? Pity? Anger? Shock? Maybe she was feeling them all at once, and she only felt calm because her mind was filtering out the overload.
"Yeah, it's me," said Amber sadly, sitting up slowly. "I cannot begin to tell you how sorry I am that all of this happened. You should not have suffered for my carelessness…for my failure." The former Fall Maiden drew up her legs and hugged her knees, glancing at Pyrrha out of the corner of her eyes. She reminded Pyrrha of a child waiting to be scolded. "I don't blame you if you hate me…you lost so much…you lost everything because I–"
"I don't hate you," Pyrrha said quickly. As soon as she said it, she realized she meant it. "You didn't do anything. It was all her doing. You and I were just her victims. Casualties of war. And even if part of me did blame you, well…you've lost as much as I have. We're both here, now, so there wouldn't be much point to holding a grudge."
Amber gave her a quizzical look. "But…but it is my fault. I'm the reason you went after her…didn't you realize? In the brief moment we were connected, all of my animosity for her, my crazed desperation to make her suffer, it all spilled over into you. After she attacked me, I was…I was stuck. Stuck in some kind of limbo, drifting in the ocean, unable to move. I was completely alone, for so long; it felt like years, maybe even centuries. The only company I had was my own bitterness, and I couldn't stop reliving those last moments. Staring at that creepy…thing, feeling the power–the life–draining out of me. I went mad, I think, and when we were connected I was so relieved. I tried to push all of the negativity, all of the helplessness and resentment I'd been trapped in my own head with; I pushed it all out into the first available outlet I had…you."
"Oh," said Pyrrha, feeling a little overwhelmed by Amber admission. 'Well, that explains my sudden episode of insanity…that must be what the fisherman meant.' "Well…I can't imagine how you must have felt, so I guess I have no right to judge your actions. I'm sure you didn't mean for me to get hurt," Pyrrha reasoned.
Amber's eyes widened, and then moisture started to build up in their corners. "I…" she quickly buried her face in her arm and rubbed the budding tears away aggressively. She sniffed loudly and said, "Thank you…you're too kind, to forgive me like that. But still." She shook her head and looked down, wringing her hands. "None of this would have happened at all if I had just been able to fight them off…if I hadn't gone ahead without Mr. Branwen. Things would have been so different if I had only–"
"Stop that!" exclaimed Pyrrha, trying not to laugh and failing. Now she realized how she had looked to the fisherman. Amber jerked her head up and stared at Pyrrha in shock, as if her laughter had been some kind of bizarre exclamation in a foreign language. "Stop beating yourself up like that, Amber; you were ambushed. Your enemies knew exactly what they were doing, they had a plan. I saw first hand what kind of devious plan this woman was capable of; she almost brought an entire Kingdom to its knees. No offense, Amber, but you never stood a chance. Your failure was through no fault of your own."
Amber sniffed again and pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket to blow her nose. "That fisherman said something similar to me when I got here."
"And to me as well," said Pyrrha, sitting down next to Amber and resting a hand on her shoulder, offering her a kind smile.
Amber returned the smile tentatively, but then she frowned and said, "You know…we haven't been formally introduced, you realize that? Strange, considering the bond we shared, however briefly. We were joined at the soul, for about fifteen seconds, but I don't even know your name."
Pyrrha offered her hand and said, "Pyrrha Nikos."
"Heh, well now I know why they picked you. Damn shame you died; you'd have made an outstanding Huntress. I'm Amber Autumn," replied Amber, accepting the handshake.
"…Autumn, really? You were the Fall Maiden, and your last name just happened to be Autumn?" asked Pyrrha, half incredulous and half amused.
Amber turned away and shrugged, then gave Pyrrha a sidelong glance and a playful smirk. "Well…do you believe in destiny?"
Pyrrha blinked, and then she started snickering, then giggling, then chuckling, and finally broke down in peals of full-blown laughter, mirthful tears streaming from her eyes. She even slapped her knee. At some point she realized Amber was guffawing along with her. Pyrrha wasn't sure how long they carried on, but all too soon the moment had passed they were both drying their eyes. "Seriously, though," said Amber, still half-giggling, "I'd say that between the two of us, you definitely had the better choice of last words."
"Oh, really?"
"Hell yeah! You would not believe how lame mine were. She put that creepy-ass Grimm-glove on and I was all like, 'Please, don't!' I totally wussed out at the last second. Really, how lame can you get? Begging the bad guy for your life," Amber said bitterly, shaking her head, "All my bravado and bluster. I was the most fearless child in my village, the boldest student in my year at Sanctum, and then Haven, and even Mr. Branwen told me I was gutsier than most of his students…and then I blow it and lose my cool when I'm finally face to face with the reaper. I'll give you that I really had no control over when and where I kicked it, but I could have gone out with a little more dignity, right?"
Pyrrha shook her head. "You weren't afraid of dying. You were afraid of what she would do with your power."
Amber scoffed. "What makes you think that?"
"Because you admitted that it was your impulses that drove me to confront her, and that's what I was thinking when I went after her. That despite what Ozpin told me, what Jaune was trying to tell me, I knew I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't try my utmost to stop her from abusing the Fall Mai–I mean, your power. I threw caution to the wind because the thought of what she would do with that power scared me so much worse than the thought of dying at her hand. And I just know for a fact, don't ask me how, that we shared that fear while we were connected. That, and we had a saying at Sanctum–"
"A warrior dies every time they show the enemy their back," the two girls chorused in harmony. They both chuckled a bit, but more soberly this time. A moment of silence stretched between them, and then Amber remarked, "I think I recognize this room. You?"
"Yeah. It's the hotel room my parents and I stayed in when we took a vacation to Vacuo to celebrate my first Mistral Regional Championship. It just so happened that the day after we arrived the whole city got choked up by a sandstorm that lasted for most of the two weeks, so we spent most of our vacation inside watching movies and eating room service," Pyrrha recalled wistfully.
"Yeah, I stayed here once, too. I was alone, though. It was nice…I had time to myself, to hear myself think," said Amber, "I guess that's why this room looks this way; because this was one place we would both recognize and feel at peace. I always imagined the afterlife would be like a desert. Imagine my surprise when I wound up in an ocean."
"So, what will you do now?" asked Pyrrha, "Have you made your choice?"
"Nah. I think I'll wander the woods for a while before I move on," said Amber, "The next world might involve suffering and responsibility like our old world did. So I think I'll take advantage of the respite. What about you?"
"I think I'll ask to be sent back. I only had seventeen years on Remnant, and I didn't come close to doing half of what I had wanted. And as wary as I am of the thought of being a completely different person…all motivational speeches from mysterious fisherman-spirits aside, I'm still full of regrets and I'd rather not take them to the next world with me. Maybe another life or two will dull the pain."
"That sounds good," said Amber. Then she smiled, "Who knows. Maybe if, Oum forbid, that wretched woman actually wins, you'll grow up to be part of the resistance and get a rematch with her?"
Pyrrha laughed and shook her head. "I certainly hope not. If that happens it would mean my friends died fighting her. They won't give up, ever. I know they'll avenge me…I just wish I hadn't made that necessary."
"Hey, quit with the long face," said Amber sternly, "I'm still claiming responsibility for pushing you into a stupid last stand. You're not allowed to beat yourself up over that anymore. Former Fall Maiden's orders."
"Heh, yes ma'am," said Pyrrha with a chuckle, mock-saluting her new friend. 'Huh. I made a new friend in the afterlife. And that doesn't even faze me. Guess that means I've acclimated to being a spirit?'
Amber stood up and said, "Well, it was an unexpected pleasure and surprisingly liberating experience to have met you, Pyrrha. I should get going, I want to explore as much of that forest as I can and if the walk here was any indicator, that's going to take centuries…or a few minutes, I'm not even sure anymore. Maybe I'll get the hang of time here before I move on. Happy trails, Pyrrha Nikos."
Pyrrha stood up too and said, "And you as well, Amber Autumn."
Amber started to turn around, but then she stopped and stood there for a moment. Then she unexpectedly launched forward and pulled Pyrrha into what might have been a bone-crushing hug, if Pyrrha still had bones. "I hope your next life makes up for your shitty death," she said, her voice choked up, "Good luck, Pyrrha." Then, before Pyrrha could say anything, a fiercely blushing Amber disengaged from her and ran out the door.
Pyrrha expected the room to fade away once Amber left, but it didn't. 'Oh, that's right. The fisherman said someone else was going to come to meet me. I should probably stay put until then.' With that thought in mind, Pyrrha lay down and stretched herself out on the bed. She didn't mean to, or even knew it was possible, but at some point she must have dozed off. The next thing she knew she heard someone knocking loudly and her eyes snapped open. She sat up and had a moment of bewilderment when she noticed she was no longer in the hotel room. She was sitting on a bench in what appeared to be one of the locker rooms at Amity Coliseum. It was an otherwise perfect replica, except that there was only one door. "Come in," said Pyrrha, a little anxious to see who her visitor was. The door opened, and Pyrrha was for once grateful to be dead, otherwise she was sure her heart would have stopped.
"Oh…"
"Of course…"
"It's you."
A/N: Who is it? Who could it possibly be?! WHO?!
Just kidding, I'm pretty sure you already know. But, on the off-chance that you don't…
Find out next week! Buahahahahaha! But anyways, a thousand pardons for being late again, and this time even later than last time. I actually lost my laptop for three whole days, if you can believe it! And mad thanks to my reviewers (so far) trickstercast, kirby163, an anonymous Guest, and Emperor Sunny, who was the only one to review both chapters! Sunny, you get a brownie. Enjoy.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I hope the next one will satisfy as well. Until then! Same RWBY time, same RWBY channel. Stay spectacular, everyone.
