A/N: This is a Great War fic. As such, it does not yet follow the color naming convention. It will not be adopted until the conclusion of the war.
A/N: As of 1/14/2017, Roosterteeth has released a World of Remnant segment on "The Great War". I will begin by saying that this fanfiction will not adhere to the information given plot-wise (notable locations from the segment "Kingdoms" will be included, however). As a result, this is now officially a full-on AU (or is it UA-Universe Alteration?), whereas before there was some leeway for speculation regarding the history and events of the war.
Think of it like the Star Wars Expanded Universe (Mara Jade, the resurrection of Palpatine, Yuuzhan Vong, etc...). All of the stories and characters in there were somewhat of a pseudo-canon, at least until The Force Awakens blew it all out of the water. In this case, it would be the WoR segment.
To be honest, I had been hoping that the WoR on the war would not be released for a while, so that I could further flesh out a story that could stand on its own. That being said, after some deliberation, I have decided that I will continue to mostly stick with my original story, albeit with some possible changes in detail following the release of this WoR. As mentioned in chapter 7, the purpose of this fanfiction is to explore the morally gray areas concerning events like the Great War. Despite the way it was portrayed, I doubt it was as simple as the Valean king waving a relic and flattening the enemy. Now I have never experienced war first-hand, but I think it's safe to say that with any conflict, questionable choices and actions will always be abound, and they have a way of changing a person, whether for better or worse.
If you've already watched it, I hope that you can enjoy this with an open mind. There are certainly some parts that matched canon, but so far this fic was developed prior to the WoR. If you have not watched it, the same message applies.
Apologies for holding you hostage with this overly long Author's note. Without further ado, here is The Coming Dawn.
Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY. RWBY belongs to RoosterTeeth and Monty Oum.
Chapter 1: Tinkering and Blacksmithing
It all began with noble intentions; the first step in an attempt to fight back against the Grimm, and to make a world in which humans could do more than just struggle against the darkness that sought to devour them.
However, with these intentions came a seed of doubt, one that was nurtured by growing fear and distrust. The seed would eventually sprout into a clash of ideologies, and escalate into one of the most cataclysmic events ever to befall Remnant in recorded history. It would come to be known as the Great War.
Quite ironic, really. It was the war itself that paved the way for humanity. The misguided attempt to suppress self-expression to better combat the Grimm backfired. As a result, the war laid down the foundation for the celebration of human spirit.
And with all wars, there are its heroes.
They were among the first individuals to further expand upon the ways in which Aura could be used, as well as aiding in the spread of knowledge of Semblances, to tip the scales of the Great War and the eternal struggle against the Grimm in their favor. Although their contributions during those dark times would herald an age of diversity, prosperity, and peace, it was not their fate to be immortalized within the golden pages of history.
Interesting.
Were it not for the meddling of a certain individual, they might as well have been nameless souls among the masses, fated to die along with the rest of them. But you, you gave them what they needed to rise above the rest and bring an answer to humanity. To be the spark that ignited hope.
But it matters not, Wizard.
They were very good pawns, but a pawns nonetheless.
If this is your only answer, then by all means, keep creating your so-called "heroes", your beacons of hope and light.
Because wherever light shines…
… darkness will follow.
"Julius!"
Azure eyes gazed up as his head turned in response, covered in soot. Though, normally, his skin and hair should have been fair and blond, respectively.
"Morning, Don!"
Julius rose from his seat by the workbench, attempted to pat himself down, and met the figure by the door. Having been indoors for a good part of the day, the afternoon sun made it difficult for Julius' eyes to adjust to the Winchester and the town behind him.
Tarnsbury was a smaller town, having a population of just over five thousand and growing. It had been founded as a frontier town some seven decades prior, which meant that it was still young, relatively speaking. It was surrounded by forests with the exception of farmlands to the northeast, and it was only three days north of the kingdom of Vale's borders. As such, the people of Tarnsbury were a hardy folk, making a living for themselves far from the reach of the capital, of which Julius and Donovan were no exception.
Said individual had a young deer slung over his shoulder, the result of a successful morning hunt. Every other time it had been wild hares and small game. Julius gave it a good look-over and whistled in mild surprise.
"And how on Remnant did you bag a buck?" Julius asked, knowing full well of Donovan's lack of stealth and subtlety in the forest. There was nothing to be done about it, given his bulkier frame. Furthermore, Julius, who spent more time indoors than out, would have fared no better.
"As luck would have it, I was setting up some traps when it sprung out of a bush and landed right next to me. It froze in surprise, and that gave me enough time to tackle and kill it." Donovan's chest puffed a bit as he responded, and true to his word, the hunting knife at his side was flecked with dried blood. The neck of the deer had a deep puncture wound as well.
"That's quite a haul. Dad'll be happy."
"Of course he'll be. Now we don't have to worry about buying meat for the next week or so."
Julius scoffed lightly with a smile. The Winchesters weren't wealthy by any means, but they were plenty well off.
"And since when did we have to worry about that?"
Donovan shrugged. "Beats me. Dad just always wanted us to pull our weight for the family."
"Yeah, yeah, I know." Julius pointed a thumb back into the forge. "Speaking of which, when you're done with that, come back here. I've got something I want to show you."
Donovan raised an eyebrow and shifted the deer on his shoulder.
"Don't tell me you've been tinkering again. Unlike this deer here, we actually need those metals."
Julius raised his hands to defend himself. Donovan deadpanned as Julius gestured defensively in ways that obviously vindicated him from any possible wrongdoing.
"No, no, no! Not tinkering. Inventing. Trust me, you'll like it."
Of course, there was absolutely no way that Julius would do anything that seemed pointless, anything that could possibly set back the family in any way, shape, or form.
Like squandering workable forge metal. Donovan sighed.
"When Dad finds out, he's probably going to blow up." he pointed out.
"Well… I might have already done that?" Julius offered with a guilty smile and a shrug. That explained the black face and hair. Figures. Donovan rolled his eyes.
"Whatever. I'll see you in a bit. Need to bring this to the butcher."
Donovan turned to leave, and Julius did likewise, returning to the forge. Donovan's father always sought to maximize efficiency, and it reflected in everything he did and owned. Anvils, furnaces, bellows, tool shelves, workbenches, weapon racks, honing wheels, dust-powered power hammers, and a center worktable. All arranged in a way to expedite forging times. Julius walked over to the workbench, and upon it lay sheet metals of varying thicknesses and small parts. And next to it, leaning against the weapon stand, were two long, thin objects wrapped in cloth.
Julius smiled. Oh yes, Donovan would like it indeed.
A little while later, as the evening sun made its way under the horizon, Julius decided to call it a day with his inventing. With his face and hair rinsed free of soot, he tidied up the area and walked over to the door that connected the forge to the side of the Winchester residence. Just as he was about to open it, the door swung open, and Donovan entered alongside his father.
Brohn Winchester was a man of sturdy build, due to years working in the family's blacksmith business. Dark brown hair along with a thick mustache and beard with streaks of gray, barrel-chested, tempered arms, and a slight bit of a gut thanks to nights in the tavern and hearty dinners from the missus. However, were he Donovan's age, they might have been spitting images of one another.
Brohn came up to Julius and proceeded to pull him into a tight headlock. It only took a moment for Julius to realize why. He shot a glare at Donovan.
Nothing I could do about it, said the shrug and sly grin.
Traitor, Julius' eyes rolled in response.
Brohn was, by nature, a good-natured man. However, that did not mean he was above productivity, perseverance, and hard work, nor the time and effort that came along with it. That being said, he was a man of tough love when it came to teaching Julius and Donovan the ways of being moral, upstanding men-to-be. Tough love in the form of physical discipline, as expected of one who shaped metal for a living.
"So, Julius. Donovan here tells me you've been tinkering again," rumbled Brohn.
An exasperated sigh escaped from Julius.
"Again. Not tinkering. Inventi-" was all Julius could say before the headlock tightened.
After he was released a moment later, Julius massaged his neck
"Ow."
Brohn crossed his arms shot him a glare. His metals were worth money, and money was precious.
"So, mind telling me what you've been doing with my metal?"
"Thought you'd never ask!" Julius responded with a smile. He proceeded to activate some of the glow dust on the walls by tapping it on the wall and placing them back into their sconces. As they were a milder form of burn dust, they glowed a warm, golden yellow. He then moved over to the weapon rack, and carried the objects over to the center worktable. With great care, he unwrapped the cover cloth on the first item.
It was now Donovan's turn to whistle. Brohn raised an eyebrow in curiosity. On the table lay a black, sleek mace with many flanges upon its head and a finely-cut burn dust crystal resting in the center of the head, which Brohn took and examined. He hefted it in his hands, rotated it, and took a few swings with it, concluding his assessment and setting it down with a slow nod.
"It's a good weapon. Solid and strong, with a good weight to it. The dust on the head is also a fine touch. And speaking of which, where did you get it from? The ones we use are the large, unrefined blocks for powering the forge, nothing with a quality cut like this one."
At this point Brohn's eyes narrowed as he once again set his glare on Julius, to which Julius chuckled nervously.
Dust was worth money, and money was precious.
A tight headlock and interrogation later, Julius rubbed his neck again.
"The dust is there for a reason. If whoever bought it could use the dust in a battle somehow, they would have an edge."
Which prompted a snicker from Donovan, although he himself had given the mace a few swings and seemed to approve of it immensely.
"Poor choice of words there, Julius. And besides, how would they use the dust in a close quarters fight even if they could? I don't think the enemy would just sit and wait for them to aim."
"It's fine, Donovan." Brohn interjected with a raised hand. "Let the customer worry about that. All we need to do is raise the price a bit to accommodate for the dust crystal."
"Alright, alright, fine." Donovan conceded, placing the mace back onto the table.
"Julius, the second one?" asked Brohn, whose interest was now piqued.
"Right."
With the same amount of care given to the first weapon, Julius unwrapped the second object. The weapon within was a sword and a sheath. The handle was wrapped with leather that was treated with a blue sap from the local forest to enhance its durability against wear and tear. The sheath was colored pale white, with a dark gold trim at its mouth, and had two small leather straps.
Brohn made to pick up the weapon and draw the blade, but nearly lost his grip on it. He hummed in curiosity and surprise as he examined it. The blasted thing was heavier than it looked. Much heavier. After drawing the blade, his curiosity transformed into confusion. The blade was straight and uniform, and upon its hilt rested a small cross-guard. It was a simple weapon, although by no means was it useless. Rather, it was light and balanced, and it exuded an air of efficiency. A weapon that could get the job done.
So if it wasn't the sword…
"Care explaining to me exactly how much metal went into this sheath?"
The sheath, Brohn noted, was far too heavy to hold for an extended amount of time. Even strapped to the hip, it would be hard for anyone to be accustomed to the extra weight without some mild discomfort along the way. The amount of metal needed to make something this heavy…
His metals were worth money, and money was precious.
Donovan too was surprised at the sheath's weight after taking it from Brohn, and looked to Julius for an explanation as well.
"Uhh…"
Sensing another headlock, Julius intervened.
"Here, give it to me." He took the sword from Brohn and the sheath from Donovan.
With sword in one hand, Julius fumbled with the straps on the sheath until it rested perpendicular against his forearm. Ignoring the confused glances that he was receiving, He lifted the sheath to his chest level and took a basic, if unrefined, combat stance facing the other two. Confusion returned to surprise as the sheath, thin and unwieldy, sprung outwards and sidewayds into a full-sized heater shield. Julius stood there for a moment, gauging the two Winchester's reactions.
"Well? What do you think?"
The moment stretched, until Brohn shook his head in apparent disbelief before replying.
"What do I think? Dust be damned, I've never seen anything like it before. Incorporating the shield into the sheath like this is quite ingenious, really. Makes it much easier to carry compared to you standard sword and shield." A slight moment of hesitation "But-"
"Wouldn't it still weigh the same?" Donovan completed Brohn's thought seamlessly.
Julius collapsed the shield then, re-sheathed the sword, and carefully placed it back onto the table.
"Yeah. You're right about that," He chuckled in response. "But still, I think we can fetch a good price for these weapons."
Brohn snorted in approval and gestured to the weapons. "More than a good price, Julius. Both of these weapons are of fine make, and quite unique as well. No doubt people will be quite interested in them when we open shop tomorrow."
He then clasped a hand onto Julius' shoulder.
"It seems you've done quite a good job with everything I've taught you so far. If anything, this is the complete opposite of what a certain someone said about you today."
Donovan could only laugh nervously as Brohn released his hold on Julius and set his glare upon his son.
"Come on, you two. I can smell dinner cooking." Julius said to the Winchesters, one of whom had the other in a tight headlock. The smell of searing meat wafted tantalizingly towards his nose, with traces of local herbs and spices. Leave it to Elena Winchester to fill the stomachs of her working man and men-to-be with hearty, delicious food.
Julius Arc opened the forge door and stepped into the Winchester residence. A mix of wood and stone, the house had an essence of comfort and warmth, one that let anyone feel at ease. There really wasn't much else like it. It was where he lived for a good amount of his life. A place where he learned valuable lessons as he grew. A place where he fondly saw the Wincesters as his family.
A place where he could call home.
A/N: First of all, thanks for taking the time to read this. As of now (11/03/16), I have a general idea of where the story will go. I am also expecting future chapters to be longer in length (at least double). I will strive to update regularly, but as of now, college is a wild and unpredictable time. However, I should be able to get another chapter out within a week or at a week. Comments and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated.
-The Bard