Project 3:

Tale of Two Hunters

The Knight

Jaune Arc of the city of Gemini, never amounted to anything special. He grew up in the shadow of his three elder sisters, and spent much of his time either helping his younger four sisters or tended the family farm. His father had large dreams for him when he was younger. Unfortunately, Jaune had never shown the skills or competence required to chase those dreams. As such, when he asked to apprentice under a Paladin of Light, his father quickly refused the request.

Jaune Arc also was determined. If not completely afraid. For him the two went hand in hand. He was terrified of dying or never returning home, but at the same time, he was even more afraid of being worthless and disappointing his family. He had a reputation to uphold as the only son of the Arc family. His father didn't have faith in him, not in the slightest, but he was determined not to fail. At least he was determined to try.

So when he set out on that faithful spring morning, his father gave him the only thing he could. The family's sword, Crocea Mors. It wasn't anything fancy, at least Jaune didn't think so, but it was well crafted. The weapon and her matching shield were both infused with Dust during their creation process. The latter also featured the Arc family crest. His father also offered something more to him, a warm welcome when he returned, whether it was as a hero or a failure.

He wasn't sure if that was good or bad. On one hand, his parents loved him dearly. That was something a lot of people couldn't say, which was a sad thought in itself. However, on the other hand, it was depressing. It made Jaune realize how little faith his father had in him at all. He knew, of course, but when it was told in so many different ways, it just all started adding up in the back of his mind until it came forward all at once. A day after he left, the second day of spring, the 2nd of Garnet, he was completely lost and feeling that his father was right about him all along.

"Where in the name of Dust am I?" He cried out in frustration. The young blonde boy drew his sword and randomly cut at some shrub alongside of the road he was travelling along. While the short bushes weren't the vicious enemy he was hoping to find, they made an excellent target for his frustration, plus they couldn't possibly make him feel any worse. At least he thought that. Then his blade caught in a particularly thick tangle of leaves and brush and his loose grip came off. "Stupid… plant," he said spitting the last word. "Oh my God I look like a complete idiot." He was grateful to be alone.

"Excuse me, son, are you alright?"

Jaune gripped his sword tight and pulled it free. He swung around only to find himself pointing his blade at a curious and now quite amused old man. "Oh I'm so sorry, sir!" Jaune said quickly and politely. If his father hadn't failed in any area, it was that Jaune had manners that befit royalty, well, rather for serving royalty. "And I'm alright, just frustrated, thank you for asking, sir." He gave the man a short bow in greeting and sheathed his sword. The elegant yet sturdy white blade slid into a well-crafted white and brown leather casing.

"Don't you go calling me that now, young knight," the old man said, his light brown eyes taking notice of Jaune's beautifully stitched sheath and the family symbol on his shield. "I'm not a knight nor will I ever be royalty," he added with a cautious smile.

It took Jaune a moment but he realized the quality of his blade, at least the design, and the family crest on his shield, may be giving the man the wrong impression. "I'll keep that in mind, sir," Jaune said with a bright smile. He was glad it was only an old man and not some wandering adventurer who'd more likely make fun of the luckless boy. "I'm not a knight either though, not yet."

"Oh?" The man said with a frown. He eyed the sword at Jaune's hip again. "Well you certainly could have fooled this old man." He chuckled in a friendly manner that left Jaune's guard weakened.

The blonde headed boy smiled sheepishly. He awkwardly grabbed his sword arm for comfort. "I wouldn't want to fool you, sir. That isn't the way a knight should conduct himself."

The man let out a very audible harrumph. "And you say you aren't a knight. It appears young man, that you know more about being one than most Paladins these days." He gave the young knight-to-be a warm smile. "You have a good attitude for the task, young man. Don't ever forget your values and I think you'll make an excellent man one day."

Jaune noted that he avoided saying knight at the end. "With all due respect, sir- "

"You give a lot of that," the man interrupted.

"Right," Jaune rubbed the back of his head. "You don't know me, what makes you say all of this?"

"You carry yourself with humility and respect, boy. Those are the two most important qualities young men should poses. Especially ones who wish to defend others," the old man said leaning in. "Do you wish to be a knight of valor?"

"More than anything, sir," the young adventurer said with enthusiasm. The anxiety in his voice was obvious though.

The old man gave him another smile. "Then, sir knight, I would appreciate it if you protected me along my trip. I can pay you when we reach our destination. It may not be much, but it's a start to an errant journey."

Jaune was speechless at first. Here he was doubting everything about himself and that'd he'd be able to do anything, and yet this strange but kind old man comes along and not only boosts him confidence, but offers him a job as well. "I would be honored, sir," Jaune said with a bow.

The old man set off and Jaune fell in next to him. He felt renewed. His bright blue eyes, full of life and energy, watched every corner and shadow carefully. He was ready and willing. What he lacked in skill, Jaune was ready to make up for in enthusiasm.

"If I may ask, sir," Jaune said, after an hour or so along the road. "Where is your destination?" He hadn't asked in all of his excitement. Not that it would have mattered. Without a direction Jaune would have accepted the job whatever it may have been or have brought him. He didn't care if they were going all the way to Atlas.

The man hummed a little. "There's the question you should always ask. The destination." The man fiddled with something in his pocket. "To a small city called Beacon. I'm sure you've heard of it." The man adjusted the small circular glasses sitting low on his nose. Jaune found them particularly queer considering he was practically looking over them all the time.

"I've heard of Beacon," Jaune said with a lowered tone. "That's the city of the great warrior's academy." Everyone knew of the academy there. Every small boy and girl who wanted to pick up a sword dreamed of learning from the masters there.

"Great is certainly one word to describe it," the man said taking a moment to straighten the lime green scarf at his neck. "It's the people there who make up the meat and blood of the place. Who give it the heart and soul that drives it."

"My father used to tell me stories of the men and woman there. The great hunts, the battles they fought in. The coin they made."

"So it's coin that interests you?" The grey haired man asked with one brow raised. He already knew the answer.

"No, not at all. My family isn't in need of more coin. I may not be tied to that coin now, but I don't feel the need for it right now. No, it's the companionship that drives me. To fight and wage war against evil, that's great, but to find the friends along the way that will do it with you, that's what I want." Jaune had a goofy smile plastered on his face. "My father spoke of the men and women he fought with, not the battles they fought at or the evils they dispersed."

The brown eyed man took in what the young knight-to-be was saying. "Very well spoken. Your father seems to be a wise man." The man seemed to stretch the arm he had been holding a cane in, almost like he was preparing for a fight.

Jaune just nodded. He didn't say anything else. His mind had wandered to the stories his father told him as a kid.

Travelling went by with as much excitement as Jaune didn't realize. It was utterly boring. By the third day he felt they were no closer to their destination. The old man, who had shared his name as Ozpin, was more than just good company at least. He had a surprising amount of energy and vigor for what his age appeared to be and he always had an interesting if not cryptic conversation ready for the young knight-to-be. As it was, Jaune was grateful for the relative peace of the journey and the chance to have so many exchanges with someone who appeared to be a wealth of information and knowledge.

"So what form of sword combat do you prefer?" The elder man asked his travelling companion and apparent guardian. He already knew the answer. It was especially obvious by the way Jaune began to slouch often and shied away from questions of combat.

"I don't know, sir," Jaune answered with almost complete honesty. He really just didn't know at all.

The man hummed to himself in thought. "Trust in your shield first, and I think you'll find yourself living a long enough life to decide on what form of sword play you'd prefer." He cast the younger man a curious glance. Jaune appeared to be taking the advice to heart. At least it looked to have him thinking.

The blonde haired boy considered the shield on his left arm. It was a decent sized kite shield. His father had said the shield was mad for deflecting blows rather than absorbing them, and if he used it first and his sword second, he'd live. Of course he father had said a number of things on combat Jaune didn't understand. Hearing the old man, Ozpin, say it again though made the comment stick out in his mind. Shield first. "My father once said something similar to me."

"I imagine so," the copper eyed man said before taking a swing of something strong from a canteen. It had a thick but relaxing odor. It certainly wasn't anything alcoholic. "Shield fighters tend to live longer than sword fighters. Longer means they're able to pass their knowledge on more often. Of course that doesn't mean the youth will take it to heart." He let out a groan that spoke volumes of the hopelessness of youth. "So many young people prefer fancy swords to a simple shield."

"I don't have much to choose from," Jaune said quietly. The older man turned to listen. "But I think I'd pick my shield over my sword if given the opportunity. I'd like to live poor in honor than die rich in spirit."

"Hah!" The copper eyed man shook his head with a smile. "Now that's the thinking spirit so many forget. The second law of a knight; 'It's better to live now and fight later, then die now and do nothing later.'"

"Is that really the second law?" Jaune asked with a confused look. His father had never mentioned any laws of knights.

"Of course," the man said with a much more controlled tone. "A knight may die to save his friends, which is a good death. A knight who dies out of arrogance or for no one, that's a useless death. Honor comes from the ability to defend the weak, not out of a glorified death that leaves the weak vulnerable."

Jaune took in every word the man said.

His blue eyes darted to catch movement in the underbrush off the road to the right. The tall trees on either side cast gloomy shadows which blocked line of sight even in the high sun however. Just an animal. Like a squirrel. Or a wild boar. He gulped audibly. If the older man noticed, he didn't say anything.

"Tell me, Jaune," the older man began, his voice edged with caution and an acid Jaune couldn't place. "Have you heard rumors of the creatures Grimm?" When he spoke the copper eyed man stared straight ahead of them. He didn't give the young man the curtesy of even a sideways glance.

Jaune shook his head. "No, I haven't." He felt his hand grip his sword in its sheath, ready to draw.

"They say they're nothing but rumor. Stories used to scare children into behaving." He tightened his own grip on the cane in his right arm. "I believe them to be very real however." His copper eyes began tracing every shadow along their sides and before them. Watching for something Jaune couldn't see. "Creatures born of hate and anger, conjured by a force that feeds off of the very fear they create. They prowl the darkness, in search of negative energy. They find this energy when we fear. Humans, Faunus, elves, dwarves, orcs… we all fear."

"What do they do?" Jaune asked absently. He was searching the tree lines for a foe that wasn't there.

"They kill us. They consume our flesh. Then… they leave."

"Leave?"

"Move on to the next source of fear, or anger, or hate."

"Why?"

"To create more of this emotion that they feed on of course… or so the legend goes."

Jaune felt his hands sweat under the pressure he had on his shield and sword. He hadn't even noticed that he had drawn the silver blade of his family.

"It's said, and reported, that they come out of the wastelands outside of East Gate. Between there and the Orcs Lands."

The blonde haired knight jumped slightly at movement to his right. Nothing was there. Just my imagination.

"They come in ones, sometimes twos, even rarely a pack of six or so may move in."

Another rustling in the bushes, this time off the left side of the path. He looked but saw nothing. Nothing's here, nothing's here, nothing's here. He couldn't fool himself.

"The one advantage we have though, is our Aura. Our spirit. Our soul. The power it grants protects us, and allows us to fight any foe."

"Right, Infinite in distance and unbound by death."

"Good, so you do know."

"My father unlocked my Aura when I was young." Most parents unlocked a child's Aura as soon as they were ready. It was necessary to be able to live in this crazy world. A shift in the shadows ahead of them caught his eye. This time he saw something. He thought he did at least. A shadow, solid black in shade, darted back into the forest.

"Excellent."

A shadowy form in the shape of a wolf leaped out at them. To be more accurate, it was much larger than any wolf Jaune had seen, and he had killed his share of wolves on the family's estate. It was easily eight feet in height and the span of its arms reminded Jaune more of that of a man's. If he hadn't known better, he would've assumed it was a werewolf. No werewolf held this much hate behind eyes that glowed like boiling blood however. The white chitin plates that protected its arms and head were another give away that this creature was beyond the normal scope of the supernatural that haunted the Kingdoms.

Jaune stepped in front of his charge to protect him. He wasn't sure why he did it, but it felt like the most natural course of action. He was supposed to be protecting this man as his first step in becoming a knight, a guardian, a paladin, whatever it was that he was chasing. Even he wasn't sure really. The wolf, the Grimm, struck Jaune hard with a fierce sweep of his claw. Jaune deflected the blow if not absorbed it outright as he felt his whole frame shudder under the weight of the attack. The old man just watched with intent with those curious copper eyes of his.

Another sweep, this time from above, and this time Jaune deflected more of the blow, he felt very little of the power recoil through his body. Instead the wolf lost its center and tumbled forward as its large clawed hand was thrown into the dusty ground by its own momentum. Jaune almost laughed in joy but the creature soon recovered. It let out a deep rumbling growl. Anger. Anger that its prey was still alive.

"You do have a sword," the copper eyed man said adjusting his green scarf as if an eight-foot-tall monster wasn't attacking them or something to worry about in the slightest.

"Right," the want-to-be-knight said. Another blow threatened to rip his shield from his arm though and he staggered back. When the creature Grimm followed through Jaune bit his tongue and swept the clawed arm aside with his shield. He thought a moment to long but still managed to plunge his sword into the creature. It swept as well though and caught him in the side of the head. The world flashed black for a moment and he felt like warm water was being poured into cuts that weren't there moments ago on his head. His sword found its unintentional mark in the beast's chest. With an attempt at a howl the creature collapsed, pulling his sword with it. "Dust it all," he muttered as he scrambled for his sword.

The silver blade came out with ease and Jaune turned to inspect his charge. Much to his surprise the bodies of three other of the wolf like Grimm lay dead behind them. Ozpin was simply wiping the grime off of his cane. "Beowolves are nasty, but with a little thought, easy enough prey," he said with a wink. Jaune felt utterly confused to say the least.

"Who are you?" the knight-to-be asked.

"Ozpin," he said with a soft smile that spoke of terrible victories and joyous defeats. "Teacher, scholar, and on occasion, gentleman." He returned his cane to his side now that it was amply clean. "And most importantly, a fighter."

"Oh," Jaune said quietly. "Yeah that's pretty cool…"

A/N: Eyyy, and this is the lighter hearted beginning of Project 3. The first five or so chapters are charater based. Jaune, Weiss, Ruby, etc. It won't just follow the traditional good guys either. I intend, especially with how the path of ever one's favorite heroine will be going, to show the darker and more chaotic side of the alignment spectrum as well here.

Anywho, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. The next is Weiss-flavored. Please feel free to comment by messaging me directly or reviewing. Like, hate, you know the drill, probably. This is a preworked on ficiton, so I have chapters ready to upload, meaning I won't just be dropping off the face of the Earth.

-RWBY is still probably owned by Rooster Teeth

-Hotel Juliet