Alright, here we go. Hopefully this thing will be good. I really just want to get this character out on screen. And before anyone reads everything I post, understand I'm essentially oblivious to a lot of ships. If this story goes against your ship, I'm sorry! Hopefully, everyone has something to enjoy out of this.

I guess this'll start up a few days after Initiation, when the teams were formed. If anyone has suggestions for the story, or even one-shot chapters I can toss in between, I'll listen. I'd prefer it if only constructive criticism came to the reviews, but it's a free Internet, so say what you want to.

Chapter 1

In the Emerald Forest…

The forest was completely still, nothing but a gentle breeze carrying a few leaves along its shoulders as it waltzed along the dirt path winding through the thick trees. An Ursa Minor, large and fierce, breaks through the woods, and howls into the air. It sniffs the air, looking around for its prey. The beast growls, pawing the earth with its great, black appendages for some hint as to where its meal went. It looks up, and sees its quarry; a slab of meat hanging from a rope above its head. The Ursa reared back, and jumped upwards in an attempt to claw the meal down.

It never reached its meal.

A blur of black and dark purple slammed into the gut of the monster, an immaculate blade running it through as the blur passed by. The beast released a howl of pain, the din breaking through the woods and causing birds to flee. The Ursa tried to get up, but it was met by a bullet through its eye, then a swift beheading. The swordsman stood upright, placing his weapon on his back. He stands with the deadly poise of a wolf, the unwavering expertise of an expert hunter.

These things are too easy to kill…

The swordsman, standing very tall, looked around for anything else which could threaten him. His eyes, a dark purple seeming to be a window into the night sky, scanned as he felt his weapon magnetize to the back of his armor suit. The weapon, a single edged blade which he and his father combined with a lever-action rifle, gleaned the light of the setting sun onto the ground. The barrel is aligned with the back of the blade, and though he could fold it into only a rifle, or even compacted into a smaller box, he came to prefer having it on his back in full form, unless the weather was disagreeable. The blade itself is a pure steel, with a purple handle, small black highlights around the handle and the sights of the rifle. On the handle, there is a lever action and trigger for the rifle parts. He walked past the dead Ursa, picking up a large rucksack and hoisting it onto his back. Something metal connected with his armor, and he raised a hand to his chest, feeling the metal against his gloved hand. He briefly looking down at his hand, the dark purple armor plates covering his hand reflecting a bit of the setting sun to his eye.

The armor, a dark purple with a black cloth-like material underneath, was built for training and to better fit his fighting style. The armor, made especially for him by his mother, weighs more than six times he does, and can be increased in weight whenever he needs to, as long as he has Dust. The hard as steel plates were arranged for maximum mobility, but also to ensure every muscle was being worked at all times to hold it up. He's seen the armor survive everything, and he places his faith in it, just as he has faith in his blade. He looks out through the trees, seeing the end to his long journey.

Only a few more hours of travel, and I'll be there.

His destination, Beacon Academy, loomed in the distance. The great tower beckoned him to start walking again, keeping a constant stride but staying wary. He ran a hand through his hair, perfectly black but a complete mess, moving the stray hair out of his face. His face was set in an expression of cold determination, his eyes set forward. He stood tall, a few inches taller than most men of Vale. The breeze graced his face, gently pushing against his body and face as he walked. He felt the shifting of the silver chain around his neck, and it reminded him of its presence. The swordsman then moved his hand to the pendant on his neck, looking at his name reflecting back at him;

'Roy.'

He smiled softly, feeling the warmth of a good memory. In a moment, he heard the snarling of beasts nearby. Drawing his sword, he looked quickly from side to side for the enemy. Roy bent his knees, waiting for whatever was in waiting for him to attack. They quickly revealed themselves, a group of three Beowolves leaped from the growth and quickly surrounded him. He pulled up his weapon, bring up a defensive stance towards the Beowolf in front of him. The edge facing upwards and the point towards the enemy, he watched carefully. In his peripheral vision, he observed the other two. The beasts circled him, growling fiercely at their prey. Roy waited, standing perfectly still. The air was tense, as neither side advanced towards each other.

Then the first of the beasts dashed for him, a claw raised for the attack.

Roy turned, instantly removing the creature's limb. The second Beowolf to move, now behind him, advanced quickly. However, the swordsman was already moving, flipping backwards and over the beast. He slashed downwards as it came to a halt, cutting it clean in half vertically. His luck had run out, however, as the third moved too quickly for him to counter. It slashed him across his chest, creating three massive gashes across his armor. The armor held, though it showed the damage clearly, deep black and purple lines drawn across it. He fell backwards, but rolled and stood up in the defensive stance. His revenge was swift, the beast's head falling down with a quick strike.

He regarded his armor, surprised it even showed any signs of damage. He scowled, knowing that this armor wouldn't last much longer if he couldn't repair it with some Dust. Much like any wound, the armor can be healed, sewn and held together with the energy of Dust and his own Aura.

When was the last time I'd repaired you..?

Recalling the last reparations he had made were more than a week prior, he growled at himself. On top of that, he had been fighting constantly all week, with multiple run-ins similar to this. He recalled the last few times the armor had taken hits, but shook off his growing frustration. He ran back and grabbed his rucksack, now jogging to make up for lost time. He needed to move faster, if he was going to make it by nightfall.

I need to move quickly, these Grimm must make up for their weakness with their numbers.

Roy kept running, the leaves crunching under his feet as he quickened his pace. His eyes scanned constantly for more threats, but luckily nothing else came for him. His mind went to the acceptance letter, stowed carefully in the outermost pocket in his rucksack. The swordsman had received it earlier in the year, having passed all the entry exams sent for him to do at a local combat school. The swordsman recalled that he had to sneak from his home to hopefully follow this letter. He recalled that his father would have absolutely scorned him for even trying to leave. This memory brought a scowl to Roy's face, but he tossed it aside for the time being. The path ahead narrowed, darkening under the canopy as a clearing came into view. From the clearing, he could see the tower even more clearly. Ahead of the clearing was a straight, beaten path towards the massive Academy.

Just a little further, and I'm finally there.

He went to charge up his Aura, and prepare his Semblance. He had only recently discovered how to use his Aura to a greater extent, during a battle with a great scorpion known as a Death Stalker. He was able to stop a fatal attack, and wield his Semblance. He was aware of how one's Semblance worked, that they were unique to the individual and worked in a variety of ways. His parents showed him how their own worked, but never put any emphasis into teaching him. They wanted him to be great without relying on his Aura, or his Semblance. However, his mother had taught him how to heal himself with his Aura. Roy learned the ability he wielded was that he could, at this point, increase his running speed greatly, or even launch himself great distances with the extreme velocity. It was fairly useful, allowing him to catch prey off guard with confounding speed.

He concentrated, a dark purple energy building around him. He was about to take off when another Grimm, a mighty Ursa Major, clawed its way into the clearing with him. The much larger beast roared with monstrous power. Roy turned, immediately drawing his weapon while dropping his rucksack to his side. His energy faded as well, the dark purple surrounding him crawling back under his armor. He stood at the ready, watching it as it barreled towards him. He flipped his hands, the swords flipping and changing into a lever action rifle. He crouches, steadying his aim as the sights line up over the great bear's eye. He fires, just barely missing the vital structure. Pulling the lever, he loads the next shot. He fires again, getting a shot to penetrate the Ursa's monstrous teeth. He reloads once again, but the monster gets to him as he fires the third shot into its chest. It slashes across his chest, knocking him clear off his feet.

The purple-clad swordsman landed roughly on his back, the wind being knocked out of him as he slammed into the dirt. He put a hand to his chest, seeing blood on his hand as he brought it back up. He growled, standing up with his weapon hanging loosely from his hand as the Ursa sizes up its meal. His face changes to that of anger, flipping the rifle back into a katana. Roy felt his Aura flare as his anger rose under the chest-piece of his armor. The purple-clad swordsman leaped into the air, coming straight down at the Ursa.

"I'll kill you for that!"

He slashed, cutting through the Ursa's massive paw before it could swing at him. He leapt into another slash, passing through the beast and then again and again, until he had diced the beast into pieces where it stood. He released a deep breath, the pain finally coming into his perception. He doubled over, blood dripping through his armor. His chest burning from the immense pain blurring his senses, he throws the sword onto the magnetic hold on his back. He staggered over to his belongings, which laid next to the heap of dead Ursa, now beginning to smell of gore. He slings his bag over his shoulder, strapping it down tightly.

"One last shot…" The great tower taunted him as he glared upwards, his body slowly giving into the pain in his chest. With a last thought, he estimated his chances, and started preparing his Semblance again. The energy built up around him as he took a low stance, preparing to run for his life. He waited, his body's Aura building up until he felt the maximum limit be reached. Unbeknownst to him, his eyes had changed color as his Aura charged, now an emerald green. Jumping forward, he then started sprinting at an extreme speed. The leaves around him started blasting upwards as he dashed through the woods, the path blurring around him.

He took deep breaths, his senses on overdrive in the attempts to keep himself moving in one direction. The intense speed had confounded his own perception when he first discovered it, and now, Roy wished he had practiced the technique more than he had. He could tell he was losing energy at an extremely fast rate, pushing his body like this. Luckily, he was closing the distance towards the campus quickly. He spotted a girl in his line of direct sight, standing nearby what must've been the dormitory. Roy then came to a realization, as his energy waned and his eyes returned to dark purple.

How do I stop?

His eyes widened as his feet started to slowly lose their ability to keep up with his speed. Roy tried desperately to move his feet faster, but it was becoming an uphill battle very quickly as he now was bounding in order to keep up with his now confounding velocity towards the Academy. Now faced with the impending need to stop, he tried to dig his heels into the ground in order to bring himself to a stop quickly. However, his sudden increase of drag caused his body to launch upwards at an angle head over heels. Roy watched as he flew right past the girl he spotted. Their eyes met for an instant before he zoomed past, dark purple eyes meeting a slightly brighter purple pair of eyes. Roy flew past, slamming on his back into a nearby wall before falling onto his head. His vision blurred, as he felt his consciousness slip and he fell into darkness…

Meanwhile…

Yang Xiao Long had come outside to give her sister Ruby time to talk to their other teammates, Blake and Weiss. While she personally was happy to stay and talk, she needed some time to herself. She smiled, resting a hand on her hip. Her back skirt fluttered in the gentle breeze, the warm summer air caressing her hair. It wasn't often that she took time for herself, but she certainly enjoyed it. She let out a content sigh, cut short when she heard a constant, quickly growing noise of feet crunching against leaves. She gasped when a dark purple blur zoomed past her sight, flying straight past her and into the wall beside her. Her eyes had met the gaze of another in the instant, but she was surprised by the speeding mass. She jumped backwards, her bracelets transforming into her weapon, the Ember Celica.

She lowered her guard slightly, however, when she looked closer and found that the now crumpled heap of armor was a person, and he wasn't moving. Her weapons shifted back into bracelets as she ran over to check him. He had a sizable mark on his forehead, and as she lifted him up, she saw the large gashes across the young man's chest. Her eyes widened at the sight, as a small amount of blood seeped through the cracks in the purple armor plates, and onto the black cloth underneath it. The armor was clearly of a custom make, made of something she'd never seen before and of a different style.

"Ooh, boy, we need to get you help. C'mon!" She hoists him onto her shoulder, lifting him up slowly. She was surprised; he was much heavier than she had anticipated. "Wow, you're a heavy guy, huh?" Yang then took a closer look at her unconscious luggage, the stranger now hanging from her shoulder.

He's not too bad looking…

The armored fellow had an impressive face, handsome despite his somber resting face. His face was covered in a thin line of stubble, a thin cover over a young face. His features were thin and pointed, chiseled with a sort of stoic ruggedness. He had a split eyebrow, the left one being cut by something in the past and leaving a scar which cut the end into two distinct points. Yang admired him as she jogged, turning her head back forward as she scanned for any teacher for help. Then, she saw Glynda Goodwitch, the tall woman walking quickly down the halls.

"Professor Goodwitch!"

She stopped, turning to Yang and immediately changing her expression to that of surprise. "Ms. Xiao Long! Who is this?" Yang came to a stop in front of her, releasing a large breath before replying.

"I don't know, but he just flew in out of nowhere! He definitely needs help, though." Glynda knelt down slightly, her eyes studying the armor and the teen's head. Noting he might have a concussion and his chest wounds were serious, she stood up and waved Yang to follow her.

"Come quickly, we must get him medical attention." They moved quickly through the halls towards the infirmary, as the stranger groaned from Yang's shoulder. She turned her gaze to her shoulder, as the armored stranger raised his head slightly.

"Where…did I make it to Beacon?"

"Yeah, lucky I was there to get you, huh?" Yang smiled, as the swordsman's eyes slowly opened. He looked around, a dazed look now coming across his face. He turned his head, looking over at his savior. She had a beautiful face, her own purple eyes matching his. The blonde hair fell perfectly behind her, falling straight around her face and down her back. He was taken aback, his already dazed mind now even more baffled. He studied her for a moment longer, before asking another question;

"Are you sure I didn't die?"

She chuckled, as they finally reached their destination. She laid him down onto a stretcher, surrounded by doctors now as his armor was attempted at for removal. "No, you're definitely still alive." The doctors gave signs that they couldn't get his armor off, and he released a sigh of impatience. He touched his knuckles to the insides of his arms, and the plates on his arms came loose. He let his arms fall limp, and the armor fell to the floor with a massive thud. He then pressed a button on the inside of his chest piece, and it started to click and move as it loosened around him. The doctors moved to pick up the arm pieces, but none of them could lift the gauntlets. Yang rolled her eyes, picking up the arm pieces with a grunt. "You don't play around with your armor." She whistled, looking over the armor with an appreciative eye.

Roy looked up at her, as she followed the stretcher going down the hallway. He let out a small laugh, looking at the gauntlets. "It's the best armor in Vale, maybe even in all of Remnant." Yang gave him a small smile, but he started to pass out again as the stretcher approached a vacant room for treatment. Her eyes changed to reflect the worry in her heart, as the doctors worked to get him undressed. She moved forward, setting down the gauntlets. She took his cuirass in her hands, pulling it upward and getting him out of it.

"Thank you, Ms. Xiao Long. We'll take it from here."

"Take care of him!" She ducked out of the room, coming out and coming face to face with Professor Goodwitch. "I hope he's okay." The Huntress nodded, looking into the room with a grim expression. The two stood together for a moment before Glynda broke the silence.

"Could you please head up to your dorm? I will call you when he's stable."

Yang looked at her with a distraught expression, but nodded pensively. She left, walking quickly down the hall as Glynda watched the doctors went to work intensively on the now unconscious swordsman. She could see the distinct gashes into his chest, surprisingly shallow in his flesh. She looked down for a moment, before turning around and walking quickly down the hall, heading now to see someone else about this newcomer…

In Headmaster Ozpin's office…

"…but my real question is, why was he accepted?" Glynda stood opposite the middle-aged man sitting at his desk. Ozpin, the headmaster, pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose as he stood up. He met her gaze with the look of sage wisdom, as his eyebrows raised slightly.

"He was accepted because he passed every written test I sent him, and his mother had arranged to have his combat testing done when he arrived. She guaranteed he was more than capable a warrior."

Glynda stepped forward, her eyes narrowing slightly. She adjusted her own glasses, resting her hand on Ozpin's desk. "And what? We're just supposed to accept her word that he's skilled enough?" Ozpin shook his head, as he started to bring an image up on his scroll.

"No, she wanted him to be tested. It would seem she was adamant he had to pass whatever test we devised in order to be accepted." The professor sighed, but was surprised when she saw the image Ozpin was bringing up.

"She-"

"Yes, that's his mother. She was one of the most impressive Huntresses in Vale for a while, until she retired some years ago." Glynda was surprised, but now saw the resemblance the son held of his mother. She recalled his appearance, the same pitch black hair and pale skin as the woman on the screen. Ozpin leaned forward, a look of empathy on his face. "It was unfortunate news when we learned she had passed. But now is not the time to be dissecting his personal life." A light flashed on his scroll, and he looked down at the message. "It would seem he's stable, but sleeping. We will speak to him once he's awake, and then we will see about his combat tests."

Back in the infirmary…

It was now well into the night, the moon's gentle light blanketing the campus in its pale shroud. Inside the infirmary room Roy laid in, the lights remained on as a nurse took his vitals. It seemed that he did not sustain any major head injury, and his chest wounds were healing at an accelerated rate because of his Aura. The nurse walked out of the room, but was stopped as two girls walked into the room. The first was Yang, with a look of relief upon seeing the young man in bed. The second, dressed in a black and red skirt with a red hood and cape, followed behind her. This girl stood shorter than Yang, and had short black hair with a red tint.

"He just fell asleep again, must be so tired from his trip here." The nurse stepped out, closing the door behind her. Yang crossed her arms, a small smile on her face. "What do you think, Ruby?" Ruby, however, wasn't paying much mind to the person in the bed, but rather to the metal box next to his armor pieces. She lifted it up, though it certainly weighed more than she anticipated.

"Is this his weapon? I wonder what it is…" Yang rolled her eyes, but didn't move to stop her little sister from at least looking.

Ruby looked over the intriguing object, until she found the release mechanism. She pressed it, and the weapon started to unfold into its sword form. This sudden movement scared her, and she started to fall backwards with the blade in her hands. She let out a yelp, falling over and towards Yang. Throwing the sword upward, it went upwards before being caught in midair.

The young man had woken up, catching the blade before it could fall.

Yeah, hopefully this will pick up steam as we get into the story. Anyways, hope somebody enjoys this first chapter. I'll have the next one up soon, and we'll see what happens. Put in reviews so I know what people want to see.