Author's Note: Apologies for the slow update to Sunshine and Shadows. I promise that I'm working on the next chapter (Chapter IX), but seeing that it's a smut chapter and I've never written smut before...well...combine that with a lack of motivation and a horrid case of writer's black and it's just a bad recipe for no updates. That said, I've decided to release two of my older one-shots in the meantime. I hope you enjoy them!
It was always the wolves that Jaune couldn't stand. Ever since he was a kid, he'd always hated beowolves and their piercing red eyes. His grandfather had told him stories of the war, stories of brave heroes fighting frightening monsters. Nevermores, Deathstalkers, Ursa Majors, Bloodhounds—none of these bothered Jaune so much as the beowolves.
Jaune tightened his grip on his sword, Crocea Mors, and stared the pack leader in the eye. The Alpha stood its ground, several of his pack behind him, and the rest flanking around. Jaune closed his eyes and knelt down on one knee, focusing his aura.
Now was not the time for running from childhood fears. Pyrrah needed him. His team needed him. Time to step up and be the leader he was meant to be.
The Alpha growled low and then barked, its white teeth gleaming in the dark red dusk of the Forever Fall. With a fearsome howl, the pack leapt towards Jaune, all at once, fangs flashing, claws bared. Jaune took a deep breath and time seemed to slow. He looked up at the pack leader and pointed his sword at it.
"You're last."
The wolves hit him, a massive fur and armored pile of Grimm flesh with Jaune somewhere at the bottom. The Alpha sniffed and yipped, confident in its victory, when suddenly a blade pierced the Beta. With a concentration of white Aura, Jaune stood, wisps of white smoke and energy encircled him, twining around his body, encasing the young man in an ethereal armor. The beowolves stood and glowered at the bright enemy.
Jaune grinned and with white eyes, disappeared. Wolves began collapsing with vicious blade wounds. Sixteen seconds later, the Omega fell, its throat cut and armor hewn from its back. Jaune stood, Grimm blood evaporating on his Aura, and smiled at the Alpha. "Now you."
The Alpha almost grinned and leapt at Jaune. Jaune knelt and braced for the impact, and the wolf bounced off of his shield. But it didn't stop, and in the blink of an eye, the Alpha was behind Jaune biting at the blind spot. Jaune turned and slashed, hitting air. This wolf was faster than the others. Much faster.
The wolf and Jaune both retreated, putting distance between them. Jaune slowed his breathing, and closed his eyes, remembering Pyrrah's rooftop training. Quickly his mind turned to their other rooftop activities—their first picnic, the look in her eyes as she laughed, her smile at his clumsiness, the roughness she used to push him to his limits, the gentleness she showed when he'd reached and surpassed them, their first kiss.
Jaune leapt. The wolf bared its fangs and went for the throat.
The wolf fell in front of Jaune, the head fell a few paces behind him.
Jaune breathed easy. The battle was won. He collapsed his shield and sheathed Crocea Mors inside of it. "I wish Pyrrah had seen that."
Suddenly Jaune was sitting on the forest floor, his shoulder hurting from the blow that knocked him down. Pyrrah sat next to him. "I saw the whole thing."
Jaune looked surprised and stared at her, "How are you here? Where is the Dreagon?"
Pyrrah smiled and brushed his arm. "I knew you were strong. Now you know, too. I always believed in you, Jaune." Her red hair, Jaune suddenly realized, was unbound and free. Pyrrah never wore her hair down.
"Pyrrah…" he started, before her fingers touched his lips, shushing him.
"Jaune, that fight… you had a lot of powerful motivation behind your actions. What was it?"
He searched her green eyes, trying to figure out what he was missing. "It was you. I'm nothing without you. You helped me, when no one else would. You were there. And you loved me." Jaune laughed, "I never was good with the ladies. I never understood how I was lucky enough to have you."
Jaune looked over at Pyrrah. Her cheeks were wet. He reached out to brush her tears away, but she shook her head. "Pyrrah, what's going on? What's wrong?"
"You don't remember?" Jaune's expression answered for him. "Jaune…the Dreagon attacked three days ago."
No.
He looked down at his sore shoulder. There was a bright red gash and blood dripping. Jaune plucked a giant tooth from the wound.
No…no no no…
"Jaune…"
No no NO!
"Ren, Nora, we…."
No…
"We died, Jaune…"
Jaune's mind shattered. A hundred dead beasts surrounded him; he was stained in blood from head to toe. At the top of a pile of carcasses was the body of the Dreagon.
Nora and Ren were gone. Pyrrah was gone. He had failed. His team was dead and he had failed.
Jaune's screams echoed in the dark.
He was alone.