Prologue

Creatures of Grimm, beings of darkness. Too many times are they the cause of so many orphans residing within the world of Remnant. That darkness of man would also be a factor, but others would blame the White Fang; the Faunus organisation that fights for Faunus equality and respect, although many doubt that's their true motive due to their violent nature.

It is a known fact that the world of Remnant is a dangerous. No-one is safe from the darkness unless you were able to live a comfortable life within one of the four major cities with their mixture of natural and man-made barriers to protect them. Smaller cities did exist outside of the walls, but they were small and more often than not struggled to protect themselves from the Grimm. That's where the Huntresses and Huntsmen often stepped in, providing the villages protection when they needed it, using their advanced combat abilities to serve and protect the people.

You see, it was their duty, a sacred vow to protect the people of Remnant and not just against the Grimm, but against the beings of darkness, monster or Human, they even fought against the White Fang. They risked life and limb for complete strangers and many children often looked up at them with a sense of awe, like a kind of celebrity. Stories were made and told about many of the Huntsmen, much like Professor Ozpin, regarded as the strongest Huntsmen in his time before he became the headmaster of Beacon Academy.

And I was one such child.

I was your typical clichéd kid, enamoured by all the stories that my parents told me. I would hear how a single huntsmen would save a village from a hundred Grimm or how a team foiled an evil plot from an evil organisation. I was hooked onto those stories, bugging my parents to tell me a new story each night.

I grew up on those stories. Every day I would get up earlier than a boy my age should have to watch the early morning news with my father to find out the latest on anything related to Huntsmen. Of course, the coolest Huntsmen…well, should I say Huntress was my mother. I was your typical boy, awed by his mother and what they did. Dad would often tell me the stories of her missions and I would stay up later than intended, hooked onto every word that told the story of my mother; The Silver Streak.

At such a young age, it was a love that never waned. I should have been more focused on wanting toys or making friends at primary school but I wanted to be just like my Mother. The one time that I (accidentally) got ahold of one of my Mother's training swords has seemed to solidify my decision. My decision was often questioned by my parents, but not once did they shy away from the idea that I would become a Huntsman. "A Silvers often have a duty, You'll understand in the future when I say if you choose this path, you'll be embarking on a long and hard road, but it's an honourable one and we'll be proud of you." And he was right; I hadn't the slightest clue on what he meant by that and at the time, I didn't care. I was being accepted for my choice and that made me happy.

With that the information I absorbed has exploded. I bought every Weapon Magazine that my pocket money allowed me too (eventually getting a part-time job as a delivery boy), late night interviews with some Huntresses and Huntsmen, online forums, you name it. It was a hobby to learn everything I could about the modern day warriors of justice…my mother. Often I did read about the darker side of the life of the Huntsmen often relating to the White Fang. It wouldn't be until I had researched it further that I had learned that the White Fang used to be nothing more than a peaceful protest group, campaigning for equal rights with humans, wanting to be treated with respect. No matter how many times my Father explained it, I would never understand why they weren't treated with respect. He had often tried to help with their campaigns as a supporter…before all the violence broke out.

I was a kid then though, unaware of the bigger issues of the life. I wanted to help and expressed that wish to Father. I wanted to do something for the Faunus even if a little. "Even the smallest grain of rice, can tip the balance," my Father told me and with that I helped him with what he did. He volunteered at a small shelter that helped Faunus down on their luck. I was overjoyed that I could do something; it was like being a Huntsman already! I remembered helping out a Faunus boy who was struggling to eat, we talked a little and the smile he gave me when we left was heart-warming. I COULD do some good in the world.

Now I realise that the world wasn't entirely black and white.

It was a cold winters evening, Christmas eve if I remembered correctly. I was up with my parents, watching the news with a cup of hot chocolate, marshmallows and whipped cream. I was more interested in my Mothers story since she had just arrived back from home. A knock on the door echoed throughout the room and in my excitement I bounced up from the sofa to answer it. Snow was falling gently as I took in the same Faunus boy that I had helped out weeks prior and I couldn't help but smile. Then I noticed a figure, clad entirely in black and his face obscured by a hood.

"I-I'm sorry." The boy spoke in a quiet force, looking down at the floor with down-trodden eyes.

What did he mean by sorry? What had he done? To me at the time, I couldn't understand why he was apologising, and I didn't get the time to ask…

Much of my memory from that point was obscured in shadow. I remember a sharp pain along my shoulder and torso, the clashing of steel as something cold pressed into the side of my cheek and a sort of wet feeling around my arm. Gunshots rang out and then the sound that I would later figure out was someone stabbing another. With a weird haze over my vision I could remember a young woman with midnight black hair, ears on top of it almost like a cat, and she held a sword that went through my mother. Then I was greeted with nothingness.

I was healed with a mixture of poultices and medical dust. Apparently it was a sword strike that cut me and it missed anything vital which was lucky. Later that night I learned that the reason my parents was murdered was likely due to my Mothers latest mission: engaging in a lengthy operation to reduce the number of White Fang related incidents and she had proven to be a thorn in their side.

And with that I was another number on the board. Another orphan left behind because of the darkness within Faunus' hearts. I felt everything then; anger, hatred, sadness…but worst of all betrayal. I couldn't understand why the boy I had helped would do such a thing. The reason was lost and I didn't care. It stung deep in my heart next to the loss of my family.

As soon as I was of age, I quickly signed up at Signal, one of the training schools that prepared the young people for future life. Anything relating to the job of a Huntsman was my focus in class, History, weapons, creating my own custom weapon were a small selection of what I studied. Anything else that I couldn't learn I would take the time out to study in my own time. I wanted to make my parents proud, wherever they are now and I knew exactly how to honour their memory. I would enrol at Beacon Academy and train to become an official Huntsman like my mother. Then, maybe I can find some answers to this clichéd story.

My name is Flynn Silvers, and this is my story.

This was...more spur of the moment. I've been in writing dump since I had to go to hospital a few weeks back because my colon hated me. Soon after I came home I got into a RWBY binge since after that I got the Season 2 blu-ray and then a few days ago, the soundtrack which I've fallen asleep to on multiple occasions.
Then I had an idea, and I'm going to jump on it. This shall probably be the only AN I do. Reviews are appreciated and I hope you'll enjoy Silver Lining!