Loosely: Soul from the Machine / Soul in the Machine

Even more loosely: Aura in the Machine

Summary:

Countless aeons ago, humanity was born into a world of darkness. They carved out their homes with the elements made corporeal, and the soul made physical. But the further they grew, the more the Grimm despised them. To combat these creatures of hate and shadow, Huntsmen were born. Trained to fight against the Grimm and act as humanity's shield, they alone have held back the tides of Evil for as long as Man can remember. For Tawn Jasper, Beacon Academy is the gateway to the ranks of Huntsmen and Huntresses, the Bastions of Hope.

Foreword:

It's been a while since I've written something, and this is both an attempt at getting back into it, and an attempt at writing better characters. Any and all criticism is welcome, I like to think that I have pretty thick skin. Also, I'm really skeptical about my summary, suggestions are welcome. This is crossposted from Sufficient Velocity and SpaceBattles on my account there, Alpha Zerg.

Prologue

"Hey," A calming voice, low and slightly drawn out, came to me softly, "Don't worry, it'll be fine. It's just the first day, I'm sure you'll make lots of friends here." He put his hand on my shoulder and gripped it lightly, "It's a bit bigger than you're used to, but you'll be alright. Just remember to be nice, and stand up for yourself."

A grin flickered onto his face, then subsided back into a teasing smile.

"And if anyone gives you any shit, break their nose." He was teasing, but he also meant it, "Then come and fetch me. I'll sort it out." The addendum came as an afterthought, but it was always touching to know that, no matter what, I could rely on my older brother. Sometimes (most of the time), he gave me no end of trouble, but when it mattered he was always there. To pick me up, to wipe my tears, to tell me that it would be alright.

I smiled up at him and poked him in the ribs.

"... You know Mommy doesn't like it when you swear."

"Hah! It'll be our secret, right?"

"Hmmm... I don't know, what will you give me?"

"Tch, how about..."

His voice drifted off, and a bright light grew from the center of my vision. The world faded around me, the light growing to encompass everything. There was a fuzziness around the edges, as shapes started forming outside the light.

"His aura blew another junction, I'm replacing it now!"

My head lulled to the side, where a blurry person was holding onto a metal arm.

A drill sounded, screwing in something I couldn't see. Darkness flooded my vision, then the scene returned as my eyelids opened. A mumbled, "Mmmph?" Escaped my lips, and the head snapped towards me.

"Shit, he's coming up, give him more anaesthetics."

"Will do," A voice from my other side. I tried to move my head to that side, but I couldn't see anything from there. There was only the bright light from right above me.

The light faded.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The dust-powered trip hammer rang out against steel repeatedly. The forge was stiflingly hot, the fire dust in the furnace releasing and maintaining the incredibly high temperatures required to render the specialised steel malleable.

I grabbed the piece of steel out and turned it over, then put it back into the furnace for a few seconds. I was forging my first true weapon, the thing that I would hopefully graduate from Signal with in the future. For now it was a test of my ability to both create and maintain my equipment in the future.

The shaft of the glaive was complete, and I hammered the last few spots of the blade into place. Next up came the intricate firing mechanisms that would go inside the shaft, and after that, the mechashift. Likely the most important part of the weapon, the mechashift assembly was nearly entirely automated, so this was the last of my work on it for now.

A smile grew on my face as I quenchd the blade in a nearby barrel of oil.

I was...

The light of the forge grew, until it was all that I could see.

"...the hell happened to this kid, anyway?" A voice rose out of the light, as the edges of my vision darkened slightly and fuzzy shapes appeared, "I've seen injuries this bad on full-fledged huntsmen, for gods' sakes. And they usually didn't make it..." The voice mumbled the last piece, and I barely heard it.

"Some sort of bullhead crash on the docks. He's hellishly lucky to be alive. He was clinging to life when the paramedics got there..." I lost track of the voice for a moment as the light swelled, "... aura was almost writhing, keeping his blood inside him, never seen it before."

"Huh. Might explain why he burnt through so many junctions on the arm. Doesn't make any sense, though."

"Hand me that scalpel!" A third voice, sharp and annoyed, and the shape to my left moved quickly to hand it to the shape that moved into the light above me.

"Easy does it..." The head moved slightly, and suddenly I could notice eyes looking at me, "He's waking up again! Give him some more sedatives!" A hand reached down and cupped my face.

"Don't worry, dear. Everything's going to be fine. Just go back to sleep."

The brightness subsided once more.

"It is in the moments of kindness that the true strength of humanity is realised. The brief sparks of generosity lighting up the world around us, and holding back the dark. Gloriously bright and immeasurably powerful, I raise you up, and exalt your soul as a beacon of hope."

A pitiful light glowed, flickering fitfully as it tried to express itself, then disappearing just as quickly as it arrived.

"I know you wanted to do this yourself, Tawn, and I'm sorry. I spoke to your Aura teacher, and Mom and Dad spoke to a doctor. Your aura too weak for you to have manifested it naturally. You can train it to be stronger now, but you wouldn't have done it by yourself."

"Yes, I cou..." I bit back the words. "You're right." It came reluctantly, sulkily. I wasn't happy to admit that there was something that I wasn't good at. I was used to putting in effort, and coming out on top. It stung to find out that there was a part of me, so deeply ingrained, that was just too feeble for me to do anything about.

I sat back down onto my knees.

"You're right." This time it was clearer. Determined. "But now I can work on it. I'll practice hard and strengthen my aura. I won't let this hold me back."

The light of my brother's aura strengthened briefly, but died down quickly.

"... the strength of the effect is directly proportional to the amount of aura you use to power the reaction. More aura means a stronger effect, less means weaker."

My Basics of Aura and Dust teacher. I picked up the piece of fire dust that was in front of me and focused a bit of "myself" into the crystal. The glow that surrounded my hands was just a little bit dimmer than that around my classmates', but I was proud of it. My aura had grown immensely since the day my brother unlocked it. I had been working on it every day, meditating, depleting it and recovering from the drain, every method that I could find.

I was sure that I knew my aura far better than my peers did theirs, and with knowledge came control. The light slowly dimmed as I prepared to release it into a controlled flame.

Hisssss.

A perfectly average flame, taking far more effort than I allowed everyone around me to realise. I bent it this way and that, and finally sculpted it into the shape of a dragon's head. Just for fun. A few moments longer, making sure the teacher saw it, and I let it fade away. Sitting down quietly, focusing on my breathing to hide my exhaustion.

My eyes were a bit heavy and I blinked slowly.

The stone in front of me moved with my focus. My mind fixated unwaveringly on the hard rock as it rose into the air slowly. Some people discovered their semblance in a moment of rage, others in weakness. Some of them gained the knowledge through a dream, and even more never discovered it at all. I couldn't remember where or how I learnt it. One day I just came to the certainty that being able to exert your will on the world around you was the purest form of power.

And my soul agreed.

An effort of focus and the stone wavered for a moment, then cracked loudly. I slowly split the rock in two, my focus splitting with them, until the two halves hung in front of me. I could feel the drain on my soul as the effort tired me out, until suddenly I couldn't concentrate on both pieces anymore, and they fell to the ground.

This was who I was.

A blinding pain erupted in my leg, and the world burst with colours. Pain so intense that stars of red, blue, green, black burst into my vision, before they collected into one.

White light glared from above me. I thrashed on the surface I was lying on, a scream bubbling past my lips.

My leg twisted a bit, and I ripped my head upwards to see what I could. Both of my eyes focused on my knee, or what was left of it, as a metal fitting was attached to it. A film of light stuck between the metal and my flesh for a moment, little hait-thin tendrils rising up to feel around the metal, wavering slightly as if making a decision, then settling down. With the light fading, the metal contacted the raw muscle and bone directly, and a fresh wave of agony washed over me.

My body flexed involuntarily, and with a great ripping sound I was suddenly free!

"Shit! Get some more sedative in him! He'll hurt himself!" The voice came from right behind me, and I felt cool, gloved hands touch my shoulders gently and guide me down. I was tired again, and I relaxed on the table, the bright light above me making me look elsewhere. The hands moved up to my face, and another face looked down at me. The voice sounded familiar, as if I had heard it recently.

"Hey, don't worry. You're nearly there. Everything is okay. Just calm down," She repeated the words softly, soothingly.

"Wha..." My throat croaked as I tried to speak, but she interrupted me quietly.

"Shhh... Just relax, it's all alri..." The voice drifted away as my eyes closed, and darkness returned.

"A bit late for a flight into Vale, isn't it, kid?" A pilot. I blinked for a moment before I remembered where I was. The pilot of the bullhead I was in. I was the only passenger on this flight, sitting in the cockpit with the pilot. It was technically just a cargo flight, but they let me fly as a passenger because the flight I was supposed to be on was cancelled.

"I guess. To be honest, I'm just hoping I'll get to the hotel before midnight. Apparently I have to check in before then." It was a legitimate concern to me. This was the first time I was going into Vale by myself, not to mention for a few nights as well. "After that... I'll be in Beacon, so there isn't anything to worry about there."

"Huh. It is about that time of year, isn't it?" The pilot mused, "Good luck then, kid. From what I hear you'll need it."

I smiled a bit. I'd been working hard for this. Nearly the top of my class, only brought down by a few things that I hadn't been willing to exhaust myself on. A rapid turnaround from my first few years at Signal. Firmly below average at everything, half because of my lack of aura, and the other half from lack of motivation. I had made a choice to be better, and then my brother had awoken my painfully weak aura, and everything turn around.

I was ready for whatever Beacon could throw at me.

"Thanks. I-"

"Get down!" The abrupt warning interrupted me, and I was flung to the side as the bullhead shuddered. Out the widow all I could see was the darkness of the night, and the lights of the Vale docks a distance away. For a moment I thought I saw a flash of white and red, then the bullhead shuddered again.

A flame burst into life on the wing as something ignited, and a dark shape was revealed on the wing. As black as the night around it, a mask of white, and blood red eyes.

A Nevermore.

It's eyes locked onto mine, and a palpable malevolence filled them as it slowly reached its beak downwards. Without breaking eye contact, it ripped the remains of the wing off.

Then it was gone.

"Shit! Shit, kid, we're going down!" The pilot was panicked, and he fumbled for a device on the dashboard. "Vale aircontrol, this is Cargo Flight 243 from Patch, we're a click out from the docks, coming in hard! Our wing's been torn off by a Nevermore, no sign of it no-" The bullhead shuddered again, and the hull to the pilot's side ripped open.

One moment the pilot was sitting in his seat, the next he was gone, an ivory grip ripping him out.

The bullhead sped up, the lights from the docks leapt closer, and suddenly the ground was much closer than I thought.

Clarity filled my mind as the roaring around me seemed to fade. The ground was creeping forward.

I reached out with my soul, my very being, and I pushed against the world. For the briefest of moments, I thought I may have achieved something. That my raging against the sudden upheaval would force the world to bend to my will.

Thought was torn from my mind as something impaled my shoulder. I looked down disbelievingly as a spike of metal grew from my chest. My right arm hung limp.

Sound returned to my ears with a pained tearing of metal, and more impacts followed, until with a final crunch, my sight faded.