The only sounds in the dense, misty, forest were the twigs snapping under the feet of the teenage pair who trekked through it. The air was cold and carried on it the crisp scent of pine, the ground below marshy with fallen needles and mud.

A boy led. The breeze rustled his storm grey hair, and he flicked his eyes, the color of the pines above, to the side. He raised a hand at his side, signalling the girl behind him to halt.

A massive beowolf tore from the thicket of brambles next to the two. The boy in front raised a single blade, a foot and a half long and the shape of a machete, at his target. Without flinching, he pulled a trigger on the handle. The tip of the blade split off into two before rotating backward. The entire sword widened and pivoted slightly at its hilt, transforming into a shotgun.

The boy fired.

The beowolf staggered backward, shaking its head and snarling furiously. The boy's finger lashed at the weapon's secondary trigger once again, and it reversed its transformation, back into a sword as he unsheathed a twin blade. He shot forward, ducking under a vicious swipe before pivoting on the balls of his feet to cleave upward, severing the grimm's arm from its body.

The girl's electric blue hair trailed behind her as she ran in, unfazed by the beast's howls of agony. She raised her shield to block a powerful strike and plunged her weapon deep into the beast's chest. She grit her teeth, staring into the monster's beady red eyes as her blade twisted. She retracted her weapon, and the beowolf began to fade away.

"Is that all we're gonna find today?" the boy asked. "We've been out here almost an hour, I'm getting bored!"

The girl smiled. "Maybe we need to try somewhere new, I think we've hunted this forest clean."

Then, the scene that had played out in the boy's mind countless times. The single moment that plagued every day, intruding when he wanted nothing more than a moment of respite, eating away at his mind. Slowly. Surely.

The bramble thicket rustled once more. It appeared to deflate as a colossal form emerged from within.

An ursa major.

The monstrosity knocked the girl to the ground, arcs of blue rippling around her body as her eyes widened with fear. The boy was frozen in horrified shock, watching as the monster's jaws drew closer to its prey.

The boy bolted upright in bed, back raising and lowering with each gasp for breath. Slowly, his breathing began to even, returning to normal. He let out one final sigh, then flicked the switch on the lamp next to his bed. He rubbed his eyes, barely able to keep them open against the harsh light.

He laid his head back down on his pillow, but dared not try sleeping again. With one arm, he opened the cabinet on his nightstand, feeling around before settling on a thick, cardstock envelope. The boy lifted it from the drawer and placed it on his nightstand, leaving Beacon academy's crest to shine in the lamplight as he pulled the letter from within. He read it once more.

To Mister Greyson Zephyr Skye,

Congratulations! Beacon Academy's administration has reviewed scores on both your written and physical entrance examinations, as well as your official transcripts. We are thoroughly impressed by your performance, and you have been granted admission to Beacon Academy this Autumn.

Beacon Academy is widely renowned as the leading educational facility for young huntsman and huntresses across the grand region of Vale, as well as one of the four pillars of Remnant, along with Shade, Haven, and Atlas. This academy will allow you to receive hands-on combat training against the Creatures of Grimm that haunt mankind to this day. We hope you take special time to review Beacon Academy and all we have to offer.

Once again, congratulations on your selection into this prestigious academy.

-Headmaster Ozpin.

Greyson sleepily rolled out of bed, and used all of his willpower to make the grand hike to his closet, then down the hallway to the shower. Once in the bathroom, he looked himself in the mirror. His forest green eyes were still weary from sleep, his storm grey hair, one bang of many usually hanging halfway down his long, straight nose, all in a mess. Greyson looked just as terrible as every morning, as if today were no different.

As he had woken up nearly half an hour before his alarm was set to go off, Greyson poured himself a cup of coffee after his shower, -black, dark roast, just how he liked it- cracked a pair of eggs into a dented-up frying pan, and slipped two slices of bread into the toaster. He heard a door opening then closing, and footsteps approaching from down the hall.

"You're up early!" Greyson's father greeted with a chuckle. "What's up, couldn't sleep?"

Greyson swallowed his sip of coffee. "Yeah, I... I had too many covers on, got too hot," he claimed. "Then I started thinking about Beacon, and couldn't get back to sleep."

Greyson's father walked forward with a smile on his face, before clapping his son on the shoulder. "Come now, don't worry! You're gonna do fine."

Greyson nodded once, the slightest smile coming to his lips. "Thanks, dad," he returned. He took another sip. "Coffee's good. Where are the beans from?"

"It's a farm near the coast in Vale's agricultural district," Mr. Skye replied. A grin crept across his face. "...I figured it would be appropriate this morning."

Three hours later, Greyson's mother, father, and younger sister Holly stood with him outside Mistral's main airport. It was on the edge of a sheer cliff overlooking the vast sea sheathed by the continent of Anima. Hundreds of people came and went in a frenzy, bumping into Greyson and his family as they approached the gate.

"Where's Rusty?" Mr. Skye asked. "You two were gonna fly together, right?"

"Yeah, I thought so..." Greyson confirmed. He looked to his scroll, but saw nothing. "I don't know where he could-"

"Yo! You'd better be waiting for me, man!" a young man's voice called. Greyson turned to see a boy his age running toward him, with tawny hair waxed into a fluffy bundle of curls and waves that crossed his forehead from right to left. The boy wore russet pants and a matching leather jacket over a grey shirt. He was a few inches shorter than Greyson, but stockier than the former's rather slight form.

Rusty hunched over to catch his breath, then perked upright, pushing a pair of glasses further up his nose. "Whew, we made it on time..." he commented. He checked the time on his scroll. "I, uh... I overslept."

Greyson chuckled. "I figured," he responded. He knelt down to secure a zipper pull that had begun to stray away from its partner. When he rose to his feet, his mother met him with a hug.

"Be careful," she warned through tears. She backed up, looking her son in the eyes and sighing. "...You know how dangerous hunting can be."

"What your mother said," Mr. Skye added, his voice taking on a sudden sternness. "Study hard, have fun, and most importantly, don't die."

"Big brother, please be careful!" Holly pleaded, hugging his leg.

Greyson nodded once. "I know, and I promise I'll be careful," he assuaged. "We're running late. Come on, let's go."

The airship rose steadily higher and higher, before the city of Mistral was little more than a collection of dots upon a grassy hill. Higher still, and Greyson could see his hometown fading away behind him. Greyson gazed out the window, admiring the vast green expanse of Anima until the ship broke through the clouds, into the azure blue above.

"Hey duuuuuuude," Rusty slyly goaded. "Pyrrha's on this ship, and she's sitting aloooooneeeee..."

"And she probably doesn't want anyone bugging herrrrrr," Greyson guessed in an imitation of Rusty's tone.

"You've been sparring partners the whole last year at Sanctum!" Rusty countered. "I'd guess being the one dude able to keep up with her at all in practice has to give you some kind of advantage!"

"...Which is counteracted by the fact I literally cannot speak around her."

"New school year, new you! Come on, man!" Rusty encouraged.

"I get the feeling you won't stop bugging me until I do it."

"Right!"

With a sigh, Greyson stood up. He plunged his trembling hands into his pockets, and strode toward the back of the ship, where Pyrrha sat alone. Rusty grinned in anticipation, watching Greyson near the flame-haired huntress.

Rusty's grin faded into a grimace as Greyson turned halfway to face him. His eyes were wide as he shook his head, continuing past Pyrrha's seat and into the airship bathroom.

The ship docked at a platform on the edge of a cliff, overlooking the vast river that flowed through much of the kingdom of Vale. The airship docks led directly into Beacon's main square, at which Greyson marvelled. It was far more beautiful than in pictures. The main building was a castle of light grey and blue, with countless spires reaching into the sky. Concentric rings of fountains, foliage, and concrete arches emanated from the center. Beyond the main building, Greyson could see the tips of many more, the classroom buildings that encompassed the rest of campus.

Greyson walked past a couple of girls engaged in argument on his way to the main building, as well as several other first year students and baggage helpers. Greyson saw all the weapons of the students. Swords, bows, shields, lances and everything in between. He caught himself staring at the back of one girl, who was being assisted by three young men who practically fell over their own feet to help her. The girl wore a blue skirt and black thigh-high socks, as well as a black leather jacket. Two oddly curved blades were sheathed behind her hip. Her face was not visible, but by the way the helpers acted, it was just as stunning as her hair; light honey blonde from roots to tip, shining under the late afternoon sun. As she began to turn around, Greyson hastily snapped his head to the side, and continued on his way.

A couple of hours later, after many exhausting questions on Greyson's relation to Ozpin, as well as the usual follow-up questions on his hair color, a trip to the locker rooms, and a short tour around campus, there was a large gathering in the main building, where Beacon's headmaster would be delivering his opening speech Headmaster Ozpin walked to centerstage, along with the woman Greyson saw on a screen aboard the transportation craft, Glynda Goodwitch.

"You have traveled here today in search of knowledge," Ozpin began. "To hone your craft and acquire new skills. And when you have finished, you plan to dedicate your life to the protection of the people. But I look amongst you and all I see is wasted energy, in need of purpose, direction. You assume knowledge will free you of this. But your time at this school will prove that knowledge can only carry you so far. It is up to you to take the first step."

Directly after, Ozpin's assistant started to speak. "You will gather in the ballroom tonight. Tomorrow, your initiation begins. Be ready. You are dismissed."

"...That's all?" Rusty noted. He was joined by a rising murmur of confusion among the crowd.

"Not a talker, I guess. I get it," Greyson replied. He let out a muted chuckle. "But still, wasted energy? That's a bit harsh."