They stood, eternal in their bliss, content with nothing more than each other's gaze. The sun shone brightly above them, filtering through the foliage to strike a glittering mirage on the ground around them. Pink petals floated all around, one passing between them, and she could not help but laugh, a peal of sound so clear and pure that it may well have been a full symphony of bells. He squeezed her hand slightly, smiling like the luckiest fool, and barely able to hold back his tears of joy.

The minister finished, though his words were distant to her. She saw Jaune straighten slightly, and knew what was coming. She leaned forward slightly as her heart beat a wild rhythm in her chest, so strongly she feared the whole audience of joyous, happy faces, would hear. He bowed his neck a little, leaning in closer. Her eyes fluttered shut as butterflies made of pure energy danced around them, and heiress smiling in the front row as she graced her friends once more.

And then it was happening. His soft lips pressed against hers and her heart stopped, constricted, and then bloomed with a warmth unlike any she had ever felt. This was all she could ever have hoped for.

Strong arms wrapped around her, and Pyrrha felt her feet swept off the ground as he dipped her. She giggled against his lips and brought her hands up to his face, kissing him more intensely, never wanting the moment to pass. She heard the chorus of aww's rise from the audience, followed quickly by cheering.

He swept her smoothly back up onto her feet, and though she wished she could have stayed pressed against him forever, she let him pull away. Her breath was coming in short gasps and a wicked smile was plastered across her face as she opened her eyes to the loveliest depths of his ocean-blue irises. She rose up onto her tiptoes, kissed him once more, quick, but profound, and then withdrew, holding his hand as they turned to face the sea of friends and family that stood clapping and whooping for the newlywed couple.

Pyrrha waved at the crowd as she tried to catch her breath, lost as it was to her love.

A breath.

Deep breath.

Panting.

Gasping.

She lunged over the remnants of the wall and ducked behind it as fire blossomed against her cover. Sweat beaded across her brow and she readjusted her grip on Milo and Akuo. She could feel her aura pulsing alongside her pattering heart, but ignored it. In this, she could not fail. In this, she had no choice.

She vaulted back over the wall and whipped her arm, flinging Akuo towards the woman of fire. It sailed true without a nudge from her semblance, but was knocked away effortlessly by a cursory flick of the woman's wrist. Her adversary raised her arm and a column of flame flew towards her.

Pyrrha gritted her teeth and slid under the blast, rolling up and knocking the woman's hand away, diverting the fire. She snapped her fist into the maiden's face, but didn't even come close to breaking her aura. She whipped Milo forward and struck the woman, cutting from hip to shoulder. She stumbled backwards and Pyrrha pressed forward, swinging high. The woman went low, and a gale of wind shot Pyrrha through the air and sent her crashing against a wall.

Her eyes snapped shut against the pain.

For a moment the world was dark.

She opened her eyes again.

Soft moonlight washed over the room and warm summer wind blew through their open window as the stars shone high above like a blanket of diamonds strewn over the atmosphere. Next to her, Jaune breathed quietly and calmly in his sleep, his rest unperturbed by the demons that haunted her dreams.

She slid out from the silky sheets, her satin nightgown luffing slightly as it was exposed to the breeze in the room. She walked over to the window, large and arched, and sat on its sill, her back against its side. She drew one knee up to her chest and lay her chin atop it.

Far below she could hear the ocean waves crashing against the cliffside, frothing and raging against the immovable earth. The chaotic currents flew about wildly, churning malevolently. The earth did not yield. No matter how the water railed and cried out to change from its course, it had no say in the matter.

Pyrrha reached to her head and removed her circlet. It shimmered in the pale light cast down by the whole moon, a glimmer of pure gold. She had picked it up the day she had chosen to be a huntress. When she promised to serve and protect the world from the shadows. From the monsters without faces, and those with them. Those that are all too human.

She looked back at Jaune, still blissful in his rest. Her silhouette was cast into the room, stopping just shy of the bed.

She rubbed the circlet absently, as she looked back out to the sea. To those waves, endlessly lost in the myriad of tides. She flicked it into the air calmly, twirling it about with her semblance. She levitated it so that it was up next to the moon, eclipsing it ever so slightly, slowly moving across it. When it encircled the light she closed her eyes, and imagined the moon shattered, as it was in her dreams.

As it was that night.

As it was this night.

She had to move.

She rolled sideways on pure instinct, narrowly avoiding an arrow streaking towards her. The woman of fire launched herself towards Pyrrha, who flowed calmly around her attacker. She jabbed into the maiden's back and summoned Akuo. The shield flew through the air, and Pyrrha twirled, catching it and avoiding a retaliatory swing simultaneously. She did a back handspring, putting space between them.

The woman looked at her, not wary, but not confident. Pyrrha gazed back levelly, utterly neutral. The truth was slowly starting to settle in. They both knew it. Only one of them would walk away from this fight. Nevertheless, she had to try. This was her lot in life, it was to face the impossible and try to find a way to overcome it.

But she was like a wave crashing against a cliff and trying to break it.

Futility had found its champion.

And yet she would try. She had to, because no one else was left. The day she had picked up her circlet, the day she had chosen this life, she had accepted it. And now, of all times, with so much at stake, she could not cave. Here, she must stand strong.

She lunged forward, striking for the woman's waist, but her blow was deflected and a palm snapped into her breast. Pure energy send Pyrrha flying, but she skittered to a stop, kept her balance. She looked up to see the witch flying towards her, and was spared only a moment of surprise before they were entangled. Pyrrha flipped her legs up against the wall, let the woman drive her into it, then pushed off powerfully.

They flipped through the air, each trying to end up on top. Pyrrha wrenched viciously just before they hit the ground and slammed the maiden into the stone. She was on her feet in a second as Fall struggled below her, and called her weapons to her.

Milo flew to her grip and she pressed it against Fall's throat. Pyrrha strained to end this shadow that would blight the existence of mankind. But there was resistance, and heat began pooling in her sword as she squeezed. She could feel the skin of her hand beginning to sear, even through her glove. But she gritted her teeth and pulled harder, ignoring the pain.

A screech broke the tense silence of concentration, and emerald eyes flicked up to find the dragon Grimm diving towards them.

Towards the tower.

She gasped as she felt the resistance against her sword suddenly give, shattered, and was thrown off balance by her own effort, and then an elbow slammed into her gut as the tower exploded around her.

She landed against the soft bed, bouncing on it slightly as sheets of purest white fluttered next to her. She just wanted to rest. She was weary, but the nights had offered no reprieve. The vestiges of who she should have been haunted the edges of her mind constantly, wearing away at it slowly.

She felt like she were staring out of a window at a vast ocean in the moonlight as she had on her honeymoon. She posed it a question, and it answered her with an endless mass of waves crashing to and fro, without direction. Without reason. There was no start. There was no end. There was just continuity.

"Hey you," There was a slight knock on the door and Pyrrha smiled lightly. She rolled off the bed and stood, walked up to Jaune, and draped her arms around his neck.

"Nice to see you," She said warmly, kissing him quickly before nuzzling into the crook of his shoulder. His arms wrapped around her and squeezed reassuringly. "I'm glad you're back."

"Same," He laughed. "I'm glad I still have both arms though. I thought Artemis was going to pull one off. She was so excited to tour Signal."

"I can't believe we're sending our daughter to be a huntress." Pyrrha's stomach flip-flopped nervously and she pulled back from her husband a little. He noticed and raised a hand to cup her face.

"She'll be fine. She's strong, just like her mom." Pyrrha smiled a little. Their daughter had shown great promise. The greatest prospect, the schools were saying, in twenty-five years. Since Pyrrha herself had chosen her path.

It was a shame she had thrown that all away. A shame Pyrrha could never bring herself to overcome.

"Mom!" An excited chirp broke her and her husband apart. A slim girl, tall for her age of thirteen, and already showing the toned definition her mother possessed, was standing in the doorway. She had long, wavy red hair that was pulled back in a ponytail. She was the spitting image of Pyrrha herself years before.

Pyrrha broke into a wide smile as the child ran to her and hugged her tightly, her backpack bouncing and jangling as the two redheads collided. Pyrrha closed her eyes, breathed deep. The moment was pure, untainted. There was only love.

She kissed the top of Artemis' head before breaking away. "How was your trip?" She inquired, tousling her daughter's hair.

"It was amazing! Aunty Ruby was there and was showing me her collection. She has so many weapons! Have you ever seen her scythe? It's huge!" Pyrrha laughed.

"I have. You know, Aunt Ruby and I used to hunt together. I've even seen her use it!" Artemis' eyes grew wide and her jaw dropped a little.

"No…" Came the disbelieving coo.

A caw outside distracted Pyrrha as she turned to see a raven hopping around just outside her window. It clacked its beak. She turned away from it.

"Show your mother what your aunt gave you." Jaune encouraged, and Artemis' face lit up again. She slung her backpack off her shoulder and reached into it. She withdrew a glimmering object, thin and rectangular with a few divots in it. Upon closer inspection, Pyrrha could see a few creases and lines where the weapon was segmented. The craftsmanship was masterful, and she had no doubt this was from Ruby's personal collection.

Artemis gave it a small flick and a rod extended from the handle. When it was fully protruded, about the length of Pyrrha's arm, an edge shot out the rod, forming a one sided blade. Artemis twirled it around as she had with practice blades for years, cutting the air so finely it

Whistled past her face as she twisted, narrowly avoiding the fireball. She scooped up her shield and braced herself as a stream of energy blasted into her. She rolled backwards, avoiding a wall of fire that flared to life in front of her. Steam and smoke surrounded her, obscuring her attacker's view. She whipped her arm forward, flinging her shield. Fall knocked it away as easily as she had before, but Pyrrha heaved with her semblance, and the gears of the clock tower surrounded her adversary.

For the first time, Pyrrha saw fear in those burning eyes.

She slammed the gears down onto her opponent, quenched the fire, crushing down with all her remaining strength. But she was flagging. She felt a bubble of resistance, saw the ember-like glow inside the gears grow into bright white and energy pulsed, sent them flying.

Her power broken, Pyrrha staggered back, brought her shield up as a fragment of steel flew at her. It slammed into her and sent her crashing into a chunk of wall. The pressure on her aura increased.

Then it broke.

"Sorry mother." Artemis said sheepishly, bending over to collect the pieces of the shattered plate she had dropped.

"It's fine!" Pyrrha consoled her daughter. On the wall in the living room across from the kitchen, the television replayed Artemis' earlier tournament match at the Vytal festival.

She bent over and helped her daughter pick up the scraps of ceramic. Once they had gathered all the shards, they were placed in a paper bag Pyrrha drew from under the sink. She took them right outside to throw them in the trash.

When she walked back through the door, she saw Artemis' head hanging low for a brief moment. Artemis corrected her posture quickly, tried to hide it, but her breaking a plate earlier had already been enough indication to Pyrrha.

"Would you say that your loss can be attributed to you not having unlocked your semblance yet?" A journalist pestered from the tv screen, trying to draw a reason for the defeat from Artemis. It was a common point in interviews with her daughter. She had taken after her father that way.

Those interviews were one thing Pyrrha did not miss.

"I did my best today. So did Hector, but he outperformed me. As of now, he is a more capable combatant than I am. He earned his victory fairly."

Grace and humility in the face of defeat. Pyrrha smiled. Pride bubbled in her heart. Most seventeen-year-olds were hotted headed, defensive, and prideful when it came to losses. But not Artemis.

Something deep inside her swelled as she took in the sight of her daughter. She loved Jaune too, and she would give anything for him, but the love she felt for Artemis was even more ingrained. It made her heart glow every time she saw the young woman, and beam every time she came up in conversation.

"I lost," Artemis muttered under her breath. "I… I just want to be the best I can mother. Like you always say. How can I do that without a semblance though?"

Pyrrha closed the distance between her and her daughter in a step and wrapped her arms around Artemis. They held each other tightly for a moment before breaking apart. Pyrrha sat on the couch, and beaconed for her daughter to do the same. Artemis sat next to her and curled into her mother.

"Did you know your father never used his semblance until he was twenty?" They both knew the answer. "It's not about the strength of your aura or your semblance or your skills. What matters is that you fight, and why you fight. Your father has always been one of the most respected huntsmen in Vale, even when he had no semblance to speak of."

"It's not about that." Artemis broke off for a second. "It's just that-" She struggled with the words for a moment before finding her voice again. "I know I have great talents. I know I have the skill to protect others. And I will serve as best I can to protect Remnant from the Grimm and any other threats it faces... But I feel like I'm supposed to do more. I have these gifts, and I feel like there's… Something out there that I'm supposed to do with them.

"Like when people hear your name. You were the invincible girl. When they hear about you, people's eyes light up. They know they'll always be safe, they can have faith in someone. They know that, no matter what, there's always going to be someone who can protect them. In the most dire situations, when hope seems lost, you'll be there."

A pit opened in Pyrrha's stomach.

They were wrong.

Perhaps one day she had been that guardian. Perhaps, once upon a time, she had been the huntress who was so great she ascended humanity. But she had survived, she had run. She had not been their champion on that day. She did not deserve their praise; she had failed.

When it mattered, she had run.

"You feel like you're destined to save others, from fear and loss. From the horrors of this world." Pyrrha muttered, the ghosts of a memory years old whispering to her from the depths of her mind.

"Destiny, that's it." Artemis echoed.

"If that is what you believe, then the most important thing is that you never falter in your virtue." Pyrrha advised, feeling her hypocrisy tear her heart apart. "They can only believe in you so long as you believe in what you're doing. We are the light, and we can never back down from the dark. Your semblance will come. They will look to you as a guardian, and once that happens, you can never go back.

"Is that truly what you want?"

There was heavy silence for a moment.

"I don't think it's my choice. I've inherited so much from you, it would be wrong if I were not to use those talents properly. I think it's something I have to do."

Pyrrha squeezed her eyes shut. It was the last thing she wanted her daughter to say. Of all she had passed on, this she wished she could have kept to herself. To take up the mantle Pyrrha had abandoned. To become an idol, to be on that pedestal for the rest of her life. Pyrrha had been too much the coward to do it. She had tried, but when she was tested, she buckled. One could call it reason, she could try to justify it as survival, but the bare truth of it was that she had betrayed everything she had worked to become.

"Then keep working. I know you're strong enough."

"... You never lost. I did… Does that mean I'm not good enough to do this?"

Pyrrha did not know. She had never found the limits of her ability. She had not tried.

"If you believe it to be your destiny, then there is little you can do. It is the path you will tread, regardless of your strength or performance in combat. It's not about your ability, it is penultimately about your heart. It is not an easy life, and you may not get a happy ending - that's all I wanted for you. But this is your choice, and you will do what you have to. You'll know when your time comes, and you will make a choice. You will either fulfill your destiny, or you will choose a simpler life. An easier one. Everyone has to decide at some point."

"Did you know?" Artemis asked, blue eyes looking up to meet her own green ones. "Did you know when you fulfilled your destiny?"

Pyrrha tried not to let her daughter see the deprecation writhing inside her now, but she could not stop it from wiping the smile from her face. She never had.

She did remember every detail of that moment. She knew exactly when she was making the choice. She knew what she was giving up. And she had chosen it anyways, for this life.

She was happy. She loved Artemis, well and truly she did. With all her heart, full as it was. And Jaune too. She loved waking up every morning to his ocean-blue eyes twinkling at her. Her fairytale ending. Their soft kisses, his calm presence beside her evermore…

But she had still betrayed herself.

She stood, and Artemis frowned. "Come with me, there's something I want to show you." Pyrrha made sure her daughter was following, then walked into the hall. She came to her bedroom and opened it, the white walls all around the bright space seemed to radiate light. She walked over to the sandalwood stained dresser that housed all of her old equipment. She opened it, seeing the dust marring the otherwise beautiful shine of her armor and weapons. And there, on the top of the stack of useless metal, was a circlet. Something she had not worn for years; not since she had taken it off that night staring out into the senseless waves. She turned

And the world whirled around. She stood shakily, seeing a bow begin to materialize in Fall's hands. This would be it. She had no aura. All she had now was her armor, and a shield laying a step from her. She lunged, grabbed it as the woman drew her bow, she tracked the woman's gaze, saw where she would shoot, and flung the shield perfectly. She felt the metal slide out of her fingers

As it settled on Artemis' head. The young redhead beamed at her mother as she touched her new circlet, a crown in all respects. Just like in the photos she had seen since she was a child, spread across the four kingdoms. Pyrrha smiled back at her. If her daughter was to pick up where she had failed, Pyrrha could not tell her not to. She knew where the path led. It would end with tears and heartbreak. That was the burden of the hero. But she could not dissuade Artemis. As much as it broke her, it was not her life, it was not her place to advocate against destiny.

It was what separated the heros from the hunters. The saviours from the soldiers. The virtuous from those who survived.

It was tragedy.

Because destiny came at a price.

And she was about to pay that price.

She watched as the arrow broke into a million fragments and flowed around her shield. She watched as it began to reform, offset only by a slight angle. She watched as it flew through the air. She felt it slide through her heel as it pierced her. She cried out in unimaginable pain.

But her task was not done yet.

So long as there was breath in her lungs, so long as her heart beat and blood flowed through her veins, it was her duty to fight. She could not roll over while the shadow descended and the moon shattered.

So she tried to stand.

But she couldn't. She felt sick as the television broadcast showed the scene playing out in front of her. Goliaths had stormed the edges of the city, allowing hordes of deathstalkers and beowolves into the city. They had to be stopped.

Vale needed its guardian.

Pyrrha collapsed into Jaune's arms, not letting herself read the text scrolling over the bottom. If she had known, she would have gone. But this was only a playback.

A memorial.

She watched, her heart wrenching and twisting violently in her chest. No parent should have to witness this. She watched as a blur of red stood in front of a tide of darkness, buying the time needed for backup to arrive and to evacuate the city district. Two Goliaths came, two fell.

She was aweing to witness. Fury incarnate, nothing more than a flash of silver and red as she flew around, never letting so much as a Beowolf into the city. She was merciless and dangerous as death itself. She used her polarity as openly as she needed to, a gift inherited from her mother.

But it did nothing to offset the burden her mother had passed on that was now coming to a head.

Artemis was inhuman in her movements. She possessed no inhibition. She worried not for her life, only for the task at hand. But against the infinite sea crashing against the walls, she could not win.

Pyrrha cried out as Artemis was knocked backwards, and a Goliath stomped on her.

Her daughter held though. Her aura strained, but with it she survived the initial blow. She slashed the foot, and the Goliath reared back. A moment later, it was a smoking ruin.

Artemis didn't miss a beat as she began pushing backwards against the tide. Her slight lapse had taken its toll though, and scrappy wolves and deathstalkers were sneaking in on the edges. Artemis sprinted to one edge, decapitated the offenders, and then struggled to make it back to the other side to stem the inky darkness leaking into the city.

A tail shot out from the mass of seething bodies and slammed into her. There was a red flash as her aura broke, and then Artemis was hanging, suspended on a stinger. Pyrrha could see her daughter grimacing in pain even as she slashed through the tail and slid off it. She didn't let it slow her at all though, jumping forth into the fray.

And she fought valiantly. The way a hero should.

Pyrrha sobbed every time she saw a claw open a cut on her daughter, but never did Artemis stop. Even when half her left arm was taken, she just fought twice as hard to make up for the loss of her shield. A veritable pool of blood gathered around her, and Pyrrha thought there was no more that her daughter could give.

But she always found more strength.

It was not until the rest of the huntsmen and huntresses arrived that she relented. She allowed them to take the lead, only jumping back in to save the struggling warriors, snatching them away from death's jaws. She ensured that not a single life was lost that day. Single-handedly, she saved thousands.

No lives were lost.

Except for her own.

When the last of the smokey bodies stopped disintegrating, and the ashes of destruction cleared, she was still standing. She did not collapse. She looked exhausted, as if the wick of her candle had been completely burnt out. She calmly laid herself down as citizens and hunters alike gathered round, holding a silent vigil as the last of her life finally left her.

They buried her there and then, not wanting to move the greatest hero of Vale from her final resting place. Faceless reporters droned on about the incredible sacrifice that had been made today.

Pyrrha heard none of it.

She was in the ocean, the endless abyss, being tossed around by dark, crashing waves as she hugged Jaune tightly. He rubbed her back as she sobbed, his heart just as shattered as her own. It was as if her entire body was being impaled by millions of white hot blades and being frozen by ice dust at the same time. It burned, it froze, it was pure, unrelenting agony.

Her daughter was dead.

The light was gone.

Pyrrha's eyes opened back up as she gasped for breath. It hurt more than anything she had felt before. The slightest movement of her foot sent pain cracking through her body, but still she struggled to stand. She tried. She had to keep trying. She had to keep fighting.

Her legs collapsed.

She had already given everything.

Fall was stalking towards her slowly, savouring her victory.

Pyrrha closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath.

This was her moment. This was the cost of being who she was. She had always been detached from humanity. She had to be to create the image of a guardian. She had faltered with Jaune - she did love him, but this was her destiny. This was not a choice.

This is what must be.

Heroes don't get happy endings. They give everything that they are to the world, and when it takes everything, and they are utterly spent, only then are they done. Then, they can rest. Because a hero can only be forged from the ashes of death. A hero does not live until their life is over. In a way, Pyrrha was already dead, had never lived, and was forever immortalized.

This was her destiny.

She opened her eyes as Fall walked around her. "It's a shame," The silky, lilting voice mocked. "That you were promised a power that was never truly yours. But take solace in knowing that I will use it in ways you never could have imagined." She cupped Pyrrha's face as she said this, searching her emerald eyes for something. Fear? She would be left wanting then.

Pyrrha felt none.

"Do you believe in destiny?" She challenged. The woman withdrew and smiled. In that moment, Pyrrha knew she had won. Perhaps she had failed her task. Perhaps she had not been good enough, but she had never lapsed in her task. She had done all she could to protect the light. She had done what she had to. She had given everything, and now it was time for the world to take her.

"Yes," Fall answered, with the faith of someone who would work to achieve it until her last day, of someone who could not live without destiny.

Pyrrha raised her chin to Fall, and the arrow was loosed, burying itself in her chest.

Pain exploded through her like a thousand lightning bolts crashing over her at once. She tried to scream, but could hardly gasp.

To die alone.

To be alone.

That was the burden of the hero.

Absolute solitude, and absolute, unwavering virtue.

It was a mercy that they burned so easily.

And then Fall walked over, tapped her forehead, and Pyrrha disintegrated into nothing more than ashes.

Pyrrha nikos was no more. She no longer held a physical presence.

She never had.

And a golden circlet clattered to the ground, a last testament to a hero. A hero that would never be recognized. A hero who had died alone at the top of a tower trying to defend it. But a hero nonetheless, unwavering, unfaltering.

She walks atop the waves, watching as they crash back and forth. The sea is black and infinite, but she navigates it calmly. She knows where she stands. She knows what this is, and she smiles. Not without sadness, but not with regret.

There is a flash of scarlet below her. Someone is tumbling around, being flung by the merciless currents that twist through the never-ending abyss. She reaches down, broaches the surface. She finds the woman's shoulder and grasps strongly. She pulls, bringing the other woman above the surface.

The newcomer looks just like her, but more weathered. Cool emerald eyes find cracked irises, and sympathy swells within her. The woman has no circlet, but she does have a glimmering band of gold upon her fourth finger.

"Hello," She says with a warm smile, comforting the woman now standing across from her atop the sea.

"Where are we?" The question hangs in the air for a moment. She knows the answer; they both do.

"You know where. And you know why." She answers calmly, sitting down and crossing her legs. Her golden armor gleans in the light cast by the sun and the moon, hanging simultaneously high above this place of nothing. She is comfortable in it, but the other is not. It looks unnatural, as if it didn't quite fit anymore.

"Yeah… I do." The other murmurs.

"Was… Our daughter…"

A soft smile.

"She was beautiful. Strong, smart, and her heart was unwavering."

She nods. She wishes she could have seen her. But that was not destiny. She had solace, but was nonetheless sad.

"Do you ever wonder?" The other asks. She shakes her head.

"This is who I am."

The waves flowed around the two of them forevermore. Theirs was not the only sea, but they belonged in no other. These waves were theirs, and she knew how to tame them.

"Yeah… It is."