Grandfather
MorgothII: Hello again! This is another, and very, very short one-shot side story about the past of Jake Torchwick, also known as The Jäger. Might become a mini-series later on as a semi-prequel to my main RWBY story, Jäger. Enjoy!
Pain. Sorrow. Anger
These three emotions were all the boy could process while blindly running through the depths of the Emerald Forest. His clothes are tattered and stained, both from mud and blood. Blood. That damn crimson fluid beating within his very veins. That was the last he saw of his mother, lying in a pool of her own blood, barely recognizable. Her neck was twisted at an unnatural angle as her head rested against the crude brick wall of his former home. Blood and gray matter oozed from the fracture made by the hard impact delivered from his father's cane while his wife tried to defend the boy and his smaller twin sister.
A pang of guilt flares from the shards of the shattered heart beating within the boy. He left his beloved sister behind without a second thought. 'A weapon. I need a weapon,' He decides, slowing down from exhaustion. He spots a silvery glint, and cautiously moves towards it. He doubts it is a Grimm, but then again he never thought that he would lose his mother or abandon his twin, either. Of course, it could be a trap made by that monster he once thought of his dad, but fuck it.
By now the boy could see that it is a dagger, with a relatively straight blade. Or at least, the part that isn't buried within the trunk of the tree. Then he notices what appears to be an ancient cabin made from thick oak trees. But he sees no lights or candles, and besides, who would stay within a forest infested with the dreaded Creatures of Grimm? The orphaned youth decides that the mysterious building is nothing more than a relic long abandoned, and returns his attention to the weapon protruding from the trunk of the tree nearby. The boy slowly reaches out with his left hand and grips the leather-coated handle, trying to pull it out. He grunts several times as his already-malnourished body struggles to free his new prize. Then he hears a voice, and he stops his increasingly futile efforts. His body tenses.
"What do you have there, my little Jäger?"
His hands still clinging to the weapon, the boy turns around, determined to face whoever is behind him without showing fear. Then he sees the man.
He is clad in blood-red armor of a strange design the youth had never seen before. An equally strange, but lethal-looking, curved sword is at his belt. Despite his fearsome weaponry, the man is old, with a long white beard extending down to his midriff. His electric-blue eyes seem to sparkle with mirth and kindness, though this makes the caught boy wary. The man must have somehow sensed this, for he lets out a long sigh.
"If I wanted you dead, little Jäger, you would already be so. So, relax," He says gently, his voice a calm and deep rumble, like a bronze bell being rung. Not overwhelming to the traumatized child's senses, but sort of addicting to hear somehow. The boy gulps, only slightly less uneasy. He speaks up in a hoarse voice, his first words spoken aloud since screaming at seeing the murder of his mother.
"W-what do you want?" He says, trying to sound braver than he felt.
"Well, I want to help you. I have more to say and offer, but for now it would be best for you to spend the night in my place, with a warm meal and a secure room, and clean bedding."
"I don't have much of a choice here, do I?" The boy replies after a moment in a dry manner. The elder shrugs his shoulders.
"Well, I would think that you would be at least interested in what I have to say, little Jäger," He says in a neutral manner. The boy, still holding the dagger, growls slightly.
"Why are you calling me that?! What does it even mean?!" The man simply laughs slightly at the sudden show of aggression.
"You have fire, my little Jäger. My little hunter. The dagger has chosen you, for only two would be able to see past my semblance of showing others their destiny. It is yours, and more. And I shall help train you to avenge your mother, and find your sister," He says mysteriously. The boy's mouth opens and closes several times in shock.
"H-h-how do you know this?"
The man smiles kindly. "That, my Jäger, is a story I shall reveal to you in due time. But, do you accept my offer of spending the night?"
Reluctantly the boy nods his. Pleased, the armored man walks over to his new charge and yanks out the blade with ease. Then he offers the hilt of the dagger to the newly-christened Jäger, who accepts the gift silently. Then the two walk towards the not-so-abandoned cabin. Little does the orphan realize where he would be one day…
Present-day
Jake Torchwick looks up from his sword bayonet, his very first weapon. He had been remembering of the night he had received it. The hilt and mounting may have changed, but the blade was the very one given to him by the old warrior. He sheathes both the short blade and the other sword he has kept hidden from all. The katana gifted to him upon the death of his mentor. He places it under his bed, hidden once more until he needs it.
The food fight in the dining hall is probably over, and the Jäger should rejoin Ruby and the rest of Team RWBY before they freak out over his vanishing act. Before he closes the door, he touches the hilt of his bayonet once more. "Thank you, Grandfather."
And done! The next chapter of Jäger should be posted within the next few days. As always, I hope you enjoyed reading, and please feel free to leave a review or comment down below! Until next time!