Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY, its property of Rooster Teeth Productions and Monty Oum.

Summary: He had faced down countless opponents without fear and defeated all of them. But now he faces an enemy that is not as easily slain. His own doubts.

I Serve My People

The shattered moon softly glowed above the world of Remnant, and in doing so gave some small matter of comfort to a soul that felt lost. The only thing that seemed unchanged about the world was the fact that no matter what happened, the celestial bodies would continue with their routine as if nothing had happened. Talandar both welcomed and resented that fact. For the young warrior far from home, it was a sign that despite his troubled state, the world would continue on, even if he wished that he would be given some kind of sign, something to show him the way.

He had left his clan some weeks earlier, ordered by their leader to venture into one of Remnant's four kingdoms and try to gain access to one of their prestigious hunter academies, in the hope of learning something that would ensure the continued survival of his people.

At the time Talandar had gladly accepted the responsibility, for he could not think of a cause more noble than saving his people. Even if they were fine for now. The people residing within the kingdoms would call them Nomads, provided that they felt the need to be polite, insults of their intelligence weren't uncommon as he noticed soon after arriving in Vale.

His clan had taken to call themselves the Forgotten, for no one within the kingdoms remembered them or knew of their existence as far as they were aware. They were both one of the oldest and most numerous clans, even if members of their clan were spread far so as to not attract the attention of the Grimm unnecessarily. And yet, the numbers of the Forgotten dwindled with each passing generation. Even though their warriors were mighty, they were not invulnerable, and many died in the defense of their brethren before they got the chance to produce their own offspring.

Furthermore, in comparison to the residents of the four kingdoms, they died young, not of sickness and age most of the time but by the unforgiving claws and teeth of the creatures that beleaguered and threatened humans and faunus alike. Or sometimes even other clans since resources were scarce and often blood was spilled to obtain those that were available. His entire life, Talandar had thought that such was the way of things. Something akin to an undeniable fact, that the life he led was like it was supposed to be. For the weak to perish while the strong thrived, and thus they had to work together to ensure the strength of their people.

Once he had looked down upon those dwelling within the kingdoms, believing them to be weak and cowardly to choose a life of comfort inside a gilded cage instead of facing their enemies head on like his people did for countless years.

He had always respected their hunters and huntresses for their apparent combat prowess, even though he had never met one, mainly because none of them ventured out far enough to be encountered by his people. Still, they unlike so many others here, chose to fight the very creatures that imprisoned them in their kingdoms. However since he got here he had to admit that nothing was like he had expected it to be. Something he quickly picked up upon was the treatment of the faunus by most humans he had met so far. They treated them like they were beneath them, as if they were animals themselves.

Talandar couldn't understand such behaviour, back with his clan it had never been that way. It didn't matter if your fellow warrior was human or faunus, because in the end it only mattered that you could trust him to stand by your side and die with you if it proved necessary to protect the clan. That's what made the Forgotten the force it was, even though they were still slowly dying out as time went on.

Although it seemed like this was the only instance his people could claim superiority. The people here seemed less tense and on edge than his own brethren, back home, wherever that was now. Happier, unburdened by the fear of another attack. It was all an illusion, nothing more. Or was it? While his people dwindled and died young, the people here flourished and lived long and happy lives. They chose to live in a golden cage while the Forgotten chose to brave the dangers of the world and refused to be limited by borders. They chose to live and die free, instead of being cornered like an animal and pretending everything was fine.

Despite his pride in his people accomplishments, Talandar couldn't help but wonder. Was it worth it? All their dead, all the pain and suffering they endured, the attacks they fought back more often than not, was all of that worth the effort? And for what? So that they could claim that they had died free? Wasn't that selfish, for they would burden their children with the same fate just to satisfy their pride.

Children.

The one thing that truly forced him to rethink his entire opinion of the kingdoms and his own way of life. Shortly after he had arrived in Vale, he had walked by a small park. There had been parents with their children, so many of them. Did they even realize just how blessed they were? Talandar had wondered and to a degree still did.

Amongst the Forgotten, children were cherished above all else. For they were far less than they once were, and too many of them died far too young. To protect the lives of those children was amongst the most important duties of a warrior such as himself. The children here were so full of life and happiness, even though they were past the age where most children of the Forgotten would have already taken up training in one of the many important arts that allowed his people to survive.

It was the tradition of his clan to let children enjoy their innocence for as long as possible, but the moment it was lost they ceased to be children in the eyes of their society and were taken for training. Needless to say, most of those same children didn't have long to enjoy their innocence before it was taken from by them by the ever present Grimm or hostile clans. Usually it was brought on by the violent death of a parent, which happened far more often than anyone would like to admit.

It was the knowledge that children were free to be themselves within the kingdoms that caused Talandar to question everything he had ever known. His whole life he had believed in the wisdom of the elders, and trusted in the capabilities of their leaders. Now though that trust and belief was shaken, which had lead him here atop of this small hill gazing up at the shattered moon as its soft glow illuminated the surrounding area. Instead of the joy he normally felt at gazing into the darkened heavens, it only seems to enforce his melancholy.

He had come here to find a way to ensure the survival of his people, but what if they had known for a way for centuries and simply refused to accept it? He did not know what to do, and wondered if he had failed his people before he had even left them. Seeking comfort in something familiar, he tried to imagine what his clan leader would tell him now, if he were to ask him if it was possible to save their people without losing their identity in the process.

Those kind eyes looking into his own, wisdom far beyond their years clearly visible. Sympathy for his internal struggle obvious for all who would look for it. "Change is the way of life, if you cannot adapt you perish. Such is the way of things, the question is, can we still adapt? Do we even have to, or is there perhaps a different way you have yet to discover?" Talandar was certain that this would be the answer he would get if he were to ask him, him who had never steered him wrong and whom he had known for as long as he could remember.

I cannot give up before I have even begun. Talandar decided and straightened his tall frame before refocusing his gaze on the night sky. I serve my people, to the best of my abilities just as I have always done.

With that thought in mind he returned his gaze back to the earth and began to walk anew, for the way to Beacon Academy was still far. He couldn't help but vocalise his thought on the matter.

"Destiny awaits."

Endnotes:

Nomad-117: Hey folks, I hope you enjoyed this little story. I admit it is short but that was totally intended. It belongs to a greater idea I had for RWBY, but considering that I have enough unfinished stories as it is I thought it would be better not to start another one. Still, I couldn't let go of it completely, so I just keep the notes around. Well, and wrote a oneshot.

PS: I totally stole the name "Talandar" from Legacy of the Void. It means "one who bears a strong heart" in case you are interested.