Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. That saying has traveled through generations, but only now do I truly realize what it entails.

Man was born from Dust. That much is clear to me, as it is to every other soul on Remnant.

But, as I am now nearing my demise, a question has come upon me: what does the second half of that saying mean?

"We come from dust; we return to dust."

At least, that's how I interpret it. All humans and faunus come and go with time, no matter how powerful. Even the invincible must eventually meet their end, as proven by my current predicament.

But I'm not afraid, nor do I feel regret.

I've met my destiny in the end. All my life I've dreamed of becoming a Huntress, no matter what it took to attain the title. I'd hold back my personal feelings, and even give my own person away to achieve my goal. I'd do anything in the world.

And, while I am battered and broken atop the tower, realization has dawned on me.

I've already achieved my destiny.

What it means to be a Huntress is to protect the common folk from evil. What it means to be a Huntress is to be brave and determined to sacrifice yourself for the greater good. What it means to be a Huntress is so much more than a mere diploma.

I wasn't able to kill the main evil in the end, but it's alright. Somehow, I feel that defeating this woman isn't my destiny after all. My destiny was to be a sacrifice for the good of the future.

So, as I look my killer in the eyes, I give her my final words.

"Do you believe in destiny?"

My killer hesitates at my confidence. But she answers, glaring.

"Yes."

I give her a meek smile and get up on my knees. She rises as well, looking down upon me with a merciless glint in her eyes. She draws her bow, and aims for the heart.

I keep my smile on my face the entire time, even as the arrow pierces my chest. It disappears as I'm met with numbing pain.

As my vision dims, as my lungs struggle for breath, and as my body slumps over, my killer places a hand against my cheek. The darkness has now taken on a golden hue; I accept its warmth graciously as my senses fade.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.


A/N: Good grief, chapter twelve was the first time in a long time a show has made me cry. But, Pyrrha's final moments gave me a chance to finally use this phrase in a RWBY fanfic. Hooray...?

I hope you enjoyed this very short story, in one form or another. Leave reviews, because I love feedback. Love you guys!