So, this is the first RWBY one-shot I wrote. Honestly, it's pretty good, in my opinion. Though chronologically, this is not the first one. This is just the first one I wrote. And it's about Azura. Odd how things work out.

I do not have any claim to writing for RWBY other than as a Fan-Fiction author. I do not own any trademarked names or characters. Then again, I don't have any claim to my own characters, as I have not been down to the copyright office lately (or at all).

Azura whipped around at the sound behind her. A Grimm. A Beowulf, to be precise. And she would be precise.

She trained her pistol on it, when a glyph appeared on its forehead. Only she could see these glyphs; it was her semblance pointing out the target. They manifested themselves as crosshairs.

She fired dead center on the glyph, and the Beowulf went down, dead. While its corpse was disappearing, more Beowulfs appeared from out of the forest. She fired as many times as there were Grimm.

Then she sensed something behind her, and she turned and pulled the trigger. It was lucky for both of them that she was out of ammo. The person behind her had been her teacher and mother. She had never learned her first name, but it didn't really matter, did it?

In any case, Azura was a little shocked at herself that she would shoot at her own mother. Sure, she thought there was another Beowulf behind her, but still! She didn't feel good about that.

She was sitting down, as always, with her shotgun on her lap. She hardly used it anymore, not after… well, not for a while.

She was nearly identical to Azura, other than some twenty six years. She had the same keen violet eyes as Azura, and hair and skin.

"Another test passed flawlessly," her mother said.

"I was still a little slow."

"Nonetheless, you are now ready to leave for Haven."

She was hesitant at the idea of leaving everything to go to some school for people with guns. "Do I have to?"

"Yes, you do."

She had never liked the idea of this. She didn't want to leave her village and her family. But, if she was going to face her destiny, well, she needed all the training she could get. Her mother couldn't teach her everything. Or could she? "Mom, can't you just teach me?"

She paused for a moment. "No, I can't. I never went to an academy. Everything I learned, I learned out here. But they can give you training that I never could. And never got."

"Mom, why can't dad teach me?"

"Because he's too busy defending the village!" And she started to move her wheelchair away.

Azura followed her. "Why can't I learn like you did?"

She made a sound of frustration. "Your destiny is too important. Though if you didn't have it, I would never have taught you all this." She turned her daughter. "I don't want to see you get hurt. That's what mothers do, right?"

"I guess. I haven't had much experience with that, but…"

Her mother smiled at the small joke.

Their moment was ended by the sound of a distinct weapon firing. "Dad!" Azura rushed away to the source of the gunshots.

They weren't exactly gunshots, though; his weapon fired pieces of metal, not really Dust, using his semblance to send the metal at supersonic speeds. He did this because why not?

Azura found her dad fighting Ursai. He was a blur of dark green and brown.

He shot one, used the recoil to propel himself back, and kick the one behind him with both feet. He slammed his massive rifle against the head of another Ursa, and shot the one behind it. His rifle transformed into a blocky hammer, and he bashed the closest Ursa into the ground.

Then, he pulled back his hammer for one massive swing against an Ursa. Behind him, another snuck up on him. Azura pulled her pistol on it, but remembered she was out of ammo. As she was quickly reloading it, her father's hammer let lose a round from behind, shooting the Ursa behind him, and speeding up his swing to smash the Ursa in front of him.

A group of militia came and drove off the remaining Ursa.

Azura walked up to her father. He was on the ground, kneeling, and breathing heavily. He probably just exerted himself. "Hi, dad."

"Azura," he said. "Remember one thing when you're older: when fighting Grimm, you don't…" He breathed in heavily. "Want to take on too many alone. It gets tough, eventually." He still panted.

"Got any water?" She detached a flask of water from her belt, and gave it to her father. He accepted it gratefully, and drank a lot of it. That's why she kept the flask; killing Grimm tends to make a person thirsty.

"Dad, why do I need to go to Haven?" she asked.

"I went to Haven, and look at me." They looked around. "Okay, maybe not the best example. But you need to get a good education, and Haven is the only place to get it around here."

"But why do I have to go?"

"I know you don't want to hear about your destiny, but if you want to be a Huntress, you need to go to an academy. Your mom didn't go to an academy, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't."

At that, her mother wheeled up. "Azura. Flint. You're both being outrageous."

"But…"

"No buts." Her tone was firm, and betrayed the frustration she was feeling. "Azura, you are going to Haven, no matter what you want. Flint, this has been your last battle, if I have anything to say about it. You need to leave the fighting to the militia, and the younger Huntsmen."

She turned a little, but then turned back to her dad. "Oh, and if you ever pick up Gunslinger again, or any other weapon, I will make sure that if the Grimm don't kill you, you will wish they had." She turned around, and wheeled away.

"She means it. We'd better do what she tells us, or else…" He shuddered at the thought.

"Don't worry. I'll be leaving for Haven tomorrow morning. You can bet your boots on it."

The next morning, Azura had her pack on her back, and was preparing to set out for Mistral. She had her pistol, ammo, and a full flask of water on her belt. Her black armor had been polished for her trip to the big city. Her boots shined, her pants cleaned, her blue hair washed and worn back. She was ready to go to Mistral.

Her father walked down the stairs of the front porch of their house. "Azura, you're going to have to take care of yourself in the big city. Instead of Beowulfs or Ursai, they have all sorts of other threats. Now, here's a piece of advice my dad gave me when I went to Haven: stay in school."

"Did you follow it?"

He looked a little skittish now. "Let's just say I have plenty stories to tell about my adventures in the urban wilderness of Mistral." He held up a bulky recording device that looked something like at least twenty years old. "And here they are. If you're feeling bored, here's something you might as well do instead of doing what I describe."

"Thanks, dad."

"And one more thing." He took off the big duster he had. As far back as she could remember he had had that duster. "A little gift from me to you." He passed the duster to Azura.

"Thanks, dad. You sure you won't need it?"

"Don't worry about me. I've got enough people worrying about me." He looked back to his wife sitting on the porch.

Azura put on the duster, and gave her farewells to her parents. It was time for adventure. And what better way to start an adventure than with her dad's tapes.

So, how did you like that? No spoilers or anything, but the next one's about Feather. See you then.