Shortly after the concert shown in The Volume One White Trailer

"You were great tonight!" Jaune said to Weiss. The young blond musician, the evening's pianist and Weiss's accompaniment, leaned lightly on the doorframe. The tuxedo he wore was well made, but ill-fitting due to his young age. He gave her a warm smile, contrasting heavily with the blizzard outside of the room's window. Weiss returned the smile, but it carried a conflicted gloom that belied a storm inside as well as out.

"What's wrong?" Jaune asked.

"I'm leaving." Weiss responded.

"Of course, you are. It is getting late after all, Klein must be eager to get you back to the Schnee estate."

"No, I mean I'm Leaving. I'm leaving Atlas and enrolling at Beacon." Her words, though soft, struck Jaune like a charging boar. His mind and heart battled over how to respond. "What. Why?" were all the words he could muster.

"I can't stand living under my Father's thumb anymore. I'm tired of being his 'little doll' to display to the rich and powerful of Remnant. I need to get out, like Winter did!"

"But this is home, this is everything you've ever known. Why do you want to throw that all away?" He asked out loud, his silent question followed unspoken 'Why do you want to throw me away?' His family visited often from Vytal, decades of friendship hung in the balance.

"I didn't want to tell you. I'm sorry, I have to go."

She pushed past him into the hallway. He followed her retreating back for about three steps, then stopped. Her face, her words, and his world whirled in his head. Ever the gentle soul, he struggled in vain against the pain he felt. His head sank, and with a palm against the wall for support, he stared dejectedly at the ground.

A tall man in a black full-dress uniform with short cropped blond hair and a short yellow beard walked carefully behind him. Kind, but hard, blue eyes watched the girl turn a corner and out of view. Colonel Moutarde Arc, one of the living legends of the four kingdoms, then turned his attention to his youngest child, and only Son.

"That went about as well as expected." Jaune's father said in a deep and stern, but also compassionate voice. So far as he could gather; any anger belonged to Jacques Schnee for driving away those closest to him, and not to the pretty young girl who now planned on fleeing south. Schnee family affairs were none of his concern, but the well-being of his own family very much was. "What are you going to do, son?" He asked, watching Jaune wipe his eyes with his tuxedo sleeve.

Jaune stood up, something within the young man had changed. Moutarde thought he noticed a white glow around the young man. Jaune looked at him with determined eyes, the old colonel waited for his son's response. "What can you tell me about Beacon Academy?" Jaune asked. Moutarde grinned.

"It is the most important of the Huntsman Academies. Located in Vale, it was founded by the victor of the great war to train peacekeepers and prevent a new conflict. The old headmaster was a friend of mine, before he passed." Moutarde said. He paused, his grin disappeared. "I know what you are thinking. Don't do anything rash, I'll talk to the Preparatory School and get you a tutor."

Jaune was no longer listening, Moutarde could see that, he signed a reluctant sigh and tapped his son on the shoulder.

Jaune turned, and was surprised by his father's embrace. Moutarde was Not the hugging type, and never was. His father held him close, and looked Jaune straight in the eye. Now Mountarde had tears in his eyes. "If you decide this isn't for you, you can always come back."

Mountarde walked away. His son waited for a moment, then began walking in the opposite direction. Moutarde stopped by a curtained doorway. Without looking, he growled into the darkness. "I'm trusting you with someone very dear to me. You know what I am capable of, and you know what my family is capable of. Keep my boy safe."

"You know I can't make him ready if I keep him safe." A voice replied, "I will do what I can to help him, but a lot will depend on what he decides he is capable of."

Moutarde drew a ragged breath. He did not like the source of this voice, the new Headmaster of Beacon, but his sources had all told him this was a man who needed to be trusted. "War is coming, young man, and the Arcs may be needed again. That does not absolve you of your responsibility to me. Cross me, and you will see why your predecessor had a healthy fear of me."

Ozpin chuckled, "I already know why, no demonstration needed. I've already put together the class he is to be trained in, have some faith that we will have him prepared."

"I've never had faith in anything except the gods. If you knew anything about me, you would know that." Mountard retorted, then stormed down the halls. Anger at Ozpin competing with concern for his son in his head. Ozpin watched him go, with a thoughtful expression on his face.