Ch. 1
The air ship ride was horrible. Sam Arc did not like flying. Even after spending 17 years of his life travelling the world with his parents, he still could not get over his motion sickness. When he was finally able to see the main tower of Beacon Academy, Sam breathed a sigh of relief. He blew his long red hair out of his bright blue eyes, trying to get a better view of the school. 'Almost there.'
Sam Arc did not have a very conventional upbringing. His parents Jaune and Pyrrha Arc were both accomplished huntsmen who didn't spend a lot of time at home. Instead, they fought Grimm all over Remnant. When Sam was born, neither of his parents wanted to leave him behind at home with a nanny, but they also knew that they couldn't abandon humanity's struggle. So Sam was brought up on the road, celebrating birthdays in highly Grimm infested areas. Luckily, his parents were some of the best huntsmen to ever live, and they kept him safe for the most part.
Since he basically grew up around fighting and combat, Sam learned quickly. His parents taught him how to swing a sword, hold a shield, throw a spear, shoot a gun, land a nasty punch, and all sorts of fun ways to kill Grimm. He didn't have a problem with that. Sam enjoyed fighting. He almost felt naked without his weapons, which were strung across his back. He had two single edged recurving swords with gold and white designs. When linked pommel to pommel, a thin wire ran from one tip to the other, forming a bow, which fired dust infused arrows from the quiver also on Sam's back. Jaune had offered Crocea Mors to him, as a family heirloom, but Sam didn't feel comfortable taking his father's weapon, so he forged his own. In the way of armor, Sam preferred simplicity. He wore black boots, jeans, and a white long sleeved shirt. White shin and forearm guards protected his, well, shins and forearms. What really made him stand out, however, was a long black hooded cloak he had picked up on one of his parents missions. The hood came in very handy during his travels. Whenever he was with his parents and they were working with other huntsmen, he wore it to disguise his age. Many people would call Jaune and Pyrrha insane for letting Sam fight with them, but they knew he could handle himself. Sam had his mother's natural talent and his father's persistence and quick learning.
When the airship finally touched down, Sam was one of the last off. Many of the new students were chatting and laughing with each other, but Sam did not. One side effect of his upbringing was the ability to fight. Another was a lack of social skills, with teenagers at least. He spent a lot of time with older huntsman, so he was fine interacting with adults, but since he moves so much, Sam had never had any friends his age. For this very reason his parents decided to send him to Beacon. They wanted him to make life-long friendships the way they had. At first Sam wasn't very excited. He insisted that he was fine travelling with his parents, hanging out in military bases and rowdy inns. His parents eventually coaxed him into going, and as the first day arrived, Sam found himself growing more and more excited. Maybe it would be nice having friends.
"Hello there Mister Arc," a calm voice to Sam's right said as he took his first step on Beacon soil. Turning towards the source, Sam saw a tall, white haired man with wire glasses holding a coffee cup in one hand and a can in the other. The man looked young, physically, but the way he held himself gave Sam the indication that the stranger had the life experience and wisdom of someone very old.
"Um, hi." 'Way to go Sam. Probably one of your future teachers and that's all you can say?'
"I am professor Ozpin, headmaster at Beacon. Welcome to my school." The man, Ozpin, took a sip of his coffee. "How are your parents?" 'Does this guy know my parents?' Sam thought to himself.
"They're fine, I think. I left them when they were in the middle of a job in Vacuo. We were protecting a village there while some walls were being constructed," Sam answered.
"We?" Ozpin raised an eyebrow. "Interesting. When your parents contacted me about sending you here, I was curious. You had never attended combat school. Then they told me about your upbringing and I couldn't resist doing a little research. Your parents had taken on some of the most difficult, and dangerous, jobs out there. Tell me, how old were you when you started helping them?" Sam thought for a minute.
"Mmmm, I think when I was 10. I left the inn one day and followed my parents into the jungle. They didn't notice I was trailing them until we were a whole two day's hike in."
"What happened then?" Ozpin asked, taking another sip of his coffee. Sam looked down at his feet.
"Well, that's when the Grimm came. It was dark, and they had just made camp. I was watching them, and red eyes appeared behind them. I yelled out, and they saw me, then they saw the Grimm. We were in that jungle for two months, trying to stay alive. I was forced to adapt, to learn. When we finally made it out, I insisted that they teach me. After those couple of months, I didn't really think there was anything I couldn't handle. From then on, I worked with them, watching them and others like them." Sam looked back up at Ozpin, who had a smile on his face.
"I think you'll do just fine here, Mister Arc. I'll see you at orientation." Ozpin swaggered off, leaving Sam alone on the air strip. All the other students had gone inside.
"Oh great, now where do I go?!" Sam was lost. "Good job me."