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.

I was glad to be free from the hundreds of interviewers eager to learn more about the newest contestant defeating the Rookie Killer. If it wasn't for my parents managing to pull me out and shoo them away, I don't know what I would've done. Even when I stepped into the car though, I was still running high on adrenaline. The intense battle with Bistre still left its mark on me and the energetic crowd did little to prevent that either.

"Ace, you were amazing in that fight!" Mom spoke up from the driver's seat, "It was like seeing a mini-version of your father battle it out."

I blushed at the praise, "Moooooom!"

"Oh don't be so embarrassed," she chided, "Just don't scare us like that when he hit you with that explosion. It really-"

"It was rather careless of you."

My head shot up at my father speaking for the first time since the match. It hit me unexpectedly deep. I would've thought after defeating such a powerful opponent that he would be proud but…

Mom came to my rescue, "Honey, now isn't the time to chastise her. Our little tiger just won her first match! We should be celebrating, not criticizing her."

"We went over and reviewed all the opponents," my father continued as if he didn't hear her, "You should've known he had fire dust and been prepared for it."

I looked down, "I'm sorry father."

All the adrenaline dissipated in an instant. No matter how angry it made me felt, I couldn't deny those words. We had reviewed and I shouldn't have been caught off guard by it.

"Don't listen to him. You did great out there," Mom reassured me, " Anybody can forget things in the heat of the moment. Now turn those frowns upside down you two. I don't even need to see it to know."

Oh, bless my mom. I managed to smile, maybe not the biggest of ones, but I did. It seemed to have quieted my father too, as he stopped pointing out the mistakes I made during the fight.

She added one last thing, "When we get home, we're going to make a celebratory dinner and take a break from training for a day. Understood?"

That last part seemed to have been pointed at my father, but he didn't show any signs of noticing it. More importantly though, the thought of getting to eat something more than simple vegetables, grains, and legumes excited me. Maybe I can even get some fish stew or baked goods. Or maybe… I drooled at the thought of eating some chicken or steak.

Before I could get lost in my food fantasies however, we stopped near our house, a simple two story building made with orangeish-red bricks. It wasn't anything too special and I wouldn't have it any other way. Luxuries caused you to become lazy, weak, and self-indulgent. That's what my father told me anyways.

We got out of the car and made our way into our house, though every step sent an ache of pain through my legs. Bistre gave me a real beating, and it seemed like my legs didn't forget it.

Mom noticed my limp, "Take a seat on the couch and relax, ace. You've earned it."

I gladly took her up on that offer, "Thanks Mom."

Again, my father didn't seem to argue. I watched as he stepped out of sight towards the basement where we kept all our exercise equipment at. I found his passiveness a bit weird, though I guess my mom really has that effect on people. Normally I would go with him to train and spar but today's going to be a special day. Mom and I will make sure of it.

Just as I was starting to relax, a knock sounded on the door. Oh great. Reporters at the door already? I closed my eyes and tried to block out the noise. Just let me rest…

No luck, and it seemed as if Mom heard it too, "Ace, can you get it? I'm a little busy here."

"On my way Mom…" I drawled, stretching my arms before standing up. A jolt of pain soared through my legs again, though it was a little less sharp. After limping towards the door, I reached my hand out and turned the knob.

Only to be pulled into a bear crushing hug.

"Pyrrha! I saw the match and you did amazing! I just had to come over to congratulate you."

"Amaranth," I gasped, tapping her on the back, "Need… air!"

"Oops! Sorry."

I was released from the hug of death only for the girl to put her hands on my shoulders, a bright smile on her face. Her red eyes glittered with excitement and she giddily began to recount the events of the fight.

"...and then you were like BAM with your shield and he went oof and then you kept hitting him and then there was an explosion and then and then-" She stopped, taking her hands off me to catch her breath,

"Breath, Amaranth," I laughed, "It wasn't all that impressive, he just got careless."

"Bah!" She scoffed, "Don't be so modest. You crushed a tournament veteran in your first match. C'mon! Show a little more pride."

"Alright alright," I laughed, "Let's get to the kitchen. We're having a celebratory dinner today!"

She scrunched up her face, "Celery and beans again? Nooooo thank you!"

I shook my head, "Nope! Mom's going to cook something special today."

Amaranth tilted her head, her medium length orange hair falling with her, "Doesn't your dad usually make the food?"

"Yes, but he only cooks vegetables and legumes. Mom makes the really good stuff."

"Well, okay," she shrugged, "I guess it can't get much worse."

We both laughed and made our way into the kitchen. Like the house, it wasn't anything too grand, containing the bare necessities of a table and seats, a stove, several cabinets and cupboards, and a sink. Mom stood above a cutting board with a knife, taking the scales off and cutting it up. A sizable pan sat on the stove, the sound of sizzling breaking the silence of the room.

She noticed our presence the moment we stepped in, looking up and smiling at the sight of us, "Ah, Amaranth! I didn't know you were coming tonight. Do you mind having some fish stew?"

Her eyes lit up, "Ooh! I would love some!"

Mom laughed, "Well, sit still for a few more minutes. It'll take a bit before it's ready."

The both of us sat down and chatted as we waited. She told me there wasn't any homework at school besides studying your fight. I found that a little strange. There wasn't much to learn from my fight in my opinion. Amaranth also told me a lot of people were jealous, but she shut them up for me. I shook my head at that. My best friend can be a little hotheaded at the best of times.

"You're super lucky that you get to skip school until the tournament is over," she whined, "It's no fun without you here."

"One more month Amaranth," I laughed, "I've got to train really hard for the fights."

She sighed, "I know, I know. Promise me we'll spar the moment you get back alright? Everyone else can't even come close to beating me."

"I promise."

We continued to talk after the food was done, my mom jumping in a few times. My father came in midway, sweating and breathing heavily. He performed some stretches before joining us for dinner, nodding to Amaranth. The topic was changed to the tournament when he came in, discussing the match and the future fights.

"You were outmatched in both strength and speed," my father pointed out, "Though I'm willing to look past that since you took advantage of his close range weakness, and the face you can't really bulk up to his level yet. What I'm not willing to look past is the dust explosion."

"She couldn't have known Mr. Nikos," Amaranth argued, "The axe-head was hidden from view."

He sighed, clearly a bit exasperated, "You don't need to see it to know he was going for that move. Bistre is known for hiding the axe when he goes in for that attack. We went over this Pyrrha, when he does it, how he does it, and why he does it."

I looked down, suddenly losing my appetite, "I'm sorry father. It won't happen again."

"That's all I ask for. Remember your training, stay calm and collected in the fight, and analyze the situation to prepare accordingly."

Stay calm and collected? How was I supposed to do that with the crowd roaring in the background? It felt hard to even move. I took my father's words to heart anyway, knowing he had experience in this subject. Maybe the nervousness will go away after a while like Bistre said.

Hopefully it will, or else I'll never be able to follow my father's advice.

"What did you think of today's matches, Mr. Frost? Is there anybody you're keeping your eye on?"

I sat on my bed, hunched over the only source of light in the room, my scroll. It was currently showing the highlights and interviews of several of the contestants. Three of them sat with the interviewer right now, chatting about various points of the battles.

"None really. I don't think any of them will be able to challenge me for the title. However, that newcomer… Pyrrha Nikos was it?

My breath caught as I heard them talking about me. Grey Frost, three time Mistral Regional Tournament champion was talking about me! Pyrrha Nikos!

"Yeah, she gave me a real beating alright. The girl's talented for sure. Clever too."

Bistre scratched the back of his head awkwardly, as if a little embarrassed he lost to me. I ignored that little bit though since I was too excited to care.

"Yes, I agree with Bistre. She's a prodigy and has obviously trained hard from a very young age. I'll be very interested to see how far she goes."

I couldn't help but blush at the praise given to me by the reigning champion. I tuned in mostly to hear more in depth analysis of the fights, but this was fine too I guess.

"Planning on losing, Grey?"

The third person finally spoke up, a woman dressed in full plate armor. That was Marigold Persimmon, a veteran of the tournament. She was the former champion before Grey if I remembered correctly…

"Hardly. I won't lose like you did. This is my last tournament before I become a full-time huntsman. I don't plan on losing to a 14 year-old rookie, no matter how talented she is."

They all laughed, causing me to frown. He was right. Grey was about to graduate Haven Academy, and Marigold was already a part-time huntress. How would I, a teenage girl, be able to defeat them? Before I could think more on this, the interviewer turned to the cameras to signal the end of the show.

"Well, that's it for today ladies and gentleman. You heard it from the tournament fighters firsthand, the newcomer is sure to set a blazing trail through the round robin tournament. But will she be able to combat the current reigning champion? Or will he break the record and get his fourth tournament victory? Find out next time, on the Mistral Regional Tournament!"

I shut my scroll closed, troubled from what I've heard. I almost lost to Bistre and although he was a formidable fighter, he was nothing compared to Grey and Marigold. Would I even be able to land a hit against them?

My self-doubt began to rise up once more. What if I lose? Would I be forced to lie on the ground like Bistre did, hearing the crowd cheer against you? I wanted to hear the crowd cheer for me again. But I… I don't know what would happen to me if I lost. I could already picture my parents' disappointed faces, their heads shaking in disapproval. I could already hear the crowd cheer for the other opponent, their hands and weapons rising to receive them while I laid flat on the ground, defeated. I could already-

"Ace, are you okay?"

I snapped out of my panicked thoughts to see that the lights have been turned on. I looked to the side to find my pajama-clad mother, her brown eyes twinkling with worry.

"I'm fine." I lied. Should I tell her what I'm feeling right now? What would she say to me? Would she be disappointed or angry?

"No you're not." She stated, like it was a proven fact. Mom didn't speak for a few moments, waiting to see if I would say anything, before sighing and sitting beside me on my bed.

"Ace, you know you can tell me. It's about the tournament, isn't it?"

I swiveled my head to face her, "How did you know?"

"I'm your mother, Ace. I know these things," she quirked an eyebrow, "So? What is it?"

"Ah… well," I started, trying to find the right words, "I'm a little scared about losing." I stopped, waiting for her to say something, get confused or incredulous, anything.

Instead she nodded and said, "Go on."

"W-well," I stuttered, "When I won against Bistre, the cheers of the crowds…" I furrowed my eyebrows, trying to find the right word to describe it, "enchanted me. I wanted to hear it again. It was such a great feeling to come home with a victory."

"But when I listened to champions like Grey and Marigold talk about the matches in the interview, I got worried. I don't know if I'll be able to even put up a good fight against them. I don't want to lie on the ground, hearing the crowd cheering for the other opponent. And…"

"And?" My mom prompted.

I averted my eyes, "And I don't want to see your disappointed faces when I come home from a lost."

"Pyrrha." My heart began to beat faster. She only ever said my name when she was really angry with me. What was she going to say? Oh I shouldn't have told her-

My thoughts were cut off when two hands enveloped me in an embrace.

"I will always love you, no matter what. What kind of parent would I be if I stopped that because of a loss? Just try your best and learn from your mistakes. Nobody expects you to defeat veterans like Grey or Marigold, and nobody expects you to win every single match."

I sat stunned for a few moments, not expecting this outcome. Eventually though, I lifted my arms and hugged her as well, my hands resting on top of my mom's red hair, "Mom…"

"Shh shh shh…" She whispered, "I know what you're going through. It's okay. Every tournament fighter experiences it. I know I did."

My eyes widened, "You were a tournament fighter?"

She pulled back from the hug, smiling confidently, "Of course. How do you think I met your father?"

"You never told me."

Her grin faltered, settling into a more sad and reminiscent smile, "Those days are behind me. I prefer not to talk about it." She stood up, looking down at me once more with caring eyes, "Are you feeling better now?"

I nodded, "Y-yeah. I'm still a little nervous though."

"That's perfectly normal. If you weren't nervous, I'd be surprised."

We remained silent for a while, neither of us speaking up. Eventually, I looked up with a smile, "Thanks, Mom."

She returned it, ruffling my hair and turning back towards the door, "Anything for you, Ace." She closed the door behind her quietly, leaving me to myself.

I laid down and placed my head onto my pillow, thinking about what my mom said. I won't lose the support of my family and friends if I lose. I'm also not the only one that goes through this. And most importantly, Mom was a tournament fighter! I always thought my father was the only one who participated, but it explained why she's able to take over my training if he was ever unavailable.

When I closed my eyes, I felt like a weight has been taken from my shoulders. I was still nervous, but I don't think I'll ever stop that. I wasn't afraid of losing anymore though. No, that was the wrong way to put it…

I wasn't fearful of what people would think of me if I lost anymore. I would still hate to lose, and I'll train extra hard to prevent it, but the thought of my family supporting me no matter what comforted me as my conscious drifted into sleep.

Author Notes:

This chapter was a lot harder to write than the first one. Combat and action is easy. Talking scenes are hard. Please, give me whatever constructive criticism you have. Tell me what you think of the new characters introduced here. And in case you didn't notice, this story will contain A LOT of OC's, seeing as pretty much no one from the main story has shown evidence of ever interacting with Pyrrha before Beacon besides maybe Weiss, and even that is debatable. I also settled on a tournament structure- a round robin. That means everyone faces everyone at least once, so expect lots of fights! Next chapter should contain a fight, so stay tuned for that!

KnowNonsense-Thanks for the review! The explanation for her lack of polarity will come, so don't worry.