The night air was cold, the moon in its shattered phase, similar to the state of the of the world below. The city of Vale had become quiet from the usual bustle from the day and turned dark, desolate and foreboding. The majority of people still active in the streets were homeless or were undesirables looking to collect the next easy paycheck. Any businesses brave enough to stay open was always under the looming threat of being robbed. The grey and black buildings that made up the city were still, the occasional light in a window showed any signs of life that resided within.
Slowly emerging from one of the many cramped and eroding alleyways was a group of men in black suits, black pants and red colored glasses. Each had in possession either a single edged sword or an automatic rifle, ready to be used if the situation got messy.
"Well boys, who's ready to make some money?"
The black suited men all turned towards the source of the question. The speaker was none other than the devious, cunning and highly wanted criminal Roman Torchwick. He wore a white suit vest with a red collar as well as a small grey scarf around his neck. He also wore black pants, black shoes and black gloves with rounded sleeves. His trademark item however was the black red banded bowler hat that sat atop of his bright orange hair.
"Yup, we're ready. Just say when." replied one of the thugs, clicking the safety off on his rifle.
"Excellent! Then let's get this show on the road people!" Torchwick sneered, spinning his grey-black cane round in his fingers. The smoke filled light from the cigar in his mouth lit up the features of his dark (almost non-existent) green eyes but his right eye was completely covered by the long bangs he had swept to that side of his face.
Torchwick and his lackeys started paving their way down the street towards a shop at the end of the road. The nearby residents veered away from the gang, as to not be involved into any conflicts. Torchwick smiled to himself as he strutted down the sidewalk, taking in the feelings of fear and intimidation he received from everyone he passed.
Ahh...I love it when I'm about to do something should go without a hitch and we all go home happy! Well, except for this poor fellow we'll be borrowing from. Torchwick thought with a smirk as they closed in on the shop. He looked up to see the name " Nova Dust and Crystals" atop the grey brick building. A glass window was on each side of the door which showcased the valued items inside.
The group headed into the store, striding right up to the counter. A middle aged man stood behind a glass display, showing off a vast assortment of colorful crystals for sale. There were various tubes on the sides of the store that housed different types of Dust, as well as small shelves in the center of the floor holding separately packaged goods.
One of the henchmen raised his sword and positioned it at the base on the shopkeepers neck. The aging man raised his hands in the air, a look of pure terror painted across his ageing features.
"Alright then..." Torchwick began, slowly pacing back and forth in front of the counter with his head cast down, "Here's how it's going to work: You're going to stand there and wait while my men siphon every bit of Dust out of this sleazy shop and you will inform no one of this event, or else we'll experience some...complications on the decision on keeping you alive. Understand?" Torchwick raised his head back up to meet the shopkeeper's eyes, squinting his own while smirking, relishing the look of terror the old geezer gave.
"Y-yes sir." the man squeaked, sweat trickling down his face.
"Good! I'm glad you're so cooperative." Torchwick sneered. He turned around to face his grunts, "Grab the Dust. As quickly as possible if you don't mind, I got other business to attend to." The men in black gave each a nod and pulled out a small, black cylinder from their jackets. They connected them to the tubes filled with Dust and extracted every ounce capable, leaving the glass tubes dry and bare.
As they were doing that, Torchwick placed a grey briefcase onto the glass counter that displayed the Dust crystals. He opened the top and then pointed to the rare items that were before him.
"Put them in, every last one." Torchwick demanded. The shopkeeper whimpered helplessly as he was forced to load all of his valuable goods into the care of this thief, all his hard work slip away from his grasp in mere minutes.
Little by little, the once full, prospering Dust shop became empty and void of of its valuables.
"Pleasure doing business with you sir." said Torchwick, giving a mock bow as he and his underlings exited the building, leaving the broke and hopeless man to his devices. "Now, all of you start making your way to the Bullheads. It's just bound to get livelier around here."
Just as he said the words, Torchwick's hat came flying off his head by an unknown force.
There were mixed shouts of "What the heck!?" "What was that!?" and "Where'd it come from!?" from Torchwick's goons, who were all trying to locate the unidentified threat.
"Get a hold of yourself!" Torchwick barked, getting the attention of his inferiors. "You four, get to the aircraft! The rest of you, with me! We've got an idiot that wants to play hero." He bent over to acquire his hat off the ground. He was surprised to discover that the object that was lodged comfortably in his hat, right below the red band...was an arrow.
"Oh for the love of-"
"Sir! Up there!"
Torchwick turned quickly to face the other side of the street, and glanced upwards. Standing on the roof of one of the buildings, the fractured moon as the backdrop, was a silhouette of a person in a white hooded cape. The inside of said cape was a dark, almost crimson red and they had the hood up, as to conceal their identity. Not much was visible of their attire except the white boots with metal bands around the top and heel of the shoe and black, fingerless bracers on their arms, reaching almost their elbow. A long bow was being held in their right hand, eagerly waiting to be used again and a quiver that housed all of the apparitions arrows was slung across his back.
"Oh, so it's you again!" declared Torchwick, pulling out the arrow lodged in his bowler hat. "Nice shot by the way, a hair lower and you would've had me!" The hooded person remained silent, cape rippling the soft night breeze.
"Okay boys...why the pause?" Torchwick said, pointing to the ghostly apparition, "Get him!"
The remaining men aimed their rifles and unloaded a barrage of fast approaching bullets in hopes of killing the archer quickly.
As soon as the speeding metal balls came close to contact however, the person vanished somehow evaporating into thin air.
"W-what the? Wh-who is this guy?!" asked one of the goons, anxiety slowly creeping into his voice. He then spotted the figure now on the ground, running towards him at an incredible speed. His bow had disappeared and had been substituted for two single edged blades that were being "reverse gripped" in the person's hands. "Oh sh-" The thug began, firing his gun once again in hopes of killing his enemy. It was of no use however as the attacker managed to deflect all the bullets with his blades, slipping around behind him and knocked him upside the head with the blunt side of one of his swords, knocking him unconscious. Another thug drew out his own sword and rushed the attacker. The individual sidestepped the attack easily and executed a quick combo with the flat ends of the blades, finishing it with a forceful kick in the chest, cracking a few ribs. The last two thugs glanced at each other and rushed in with alternating attacks from gun and sword. The hooded man used his blinding speed and agility to close the distance between them, blocking and dodging any attack the grunts were able to create. Dropping, he then swept the rifleman's feet right out from under him. Using the hilt of one of the blades, he connected right in the middle of the roughnecks chest, knocking the air out of him while still he was still airborne. The last goon stood there dumbfounded and terrified, glancing around to see his associates lying on the cold pavement, all knocked out cold. The hooded assassin raised his head and the man got a clear look of his face. The assassins eyes were a deep green, focused and filled with murderous intent, which made his opponents blood run cold. His eyebrows furrowed, revealing his determined resolve. And his mouth was...straight, a hard line showing no signs of a frown or smile.
"Screw this! I'm outta here!" the last goon turned tail and sprinted as fast as his body would allow. He was a good hundred feet away before he felt a great pain in his back and blacked out. The man had shot an arrow tipped with explosion Dust, hitting him dead center between the shoulder blades from a hundred feet away. The man then turned his attention to Torchwick, arrow aimed at his head.
"Bravo! Bravo I must say!" Torchwick cheered in amusement, clapping his hands to give off a fake sense of respect to the individual, "I can see why you were her favorite to work with. You have such skill! It's too bad you decided to leave us, we could have used you!" The archer pulled back the bowstring, keeping his silent persona.
Torchwick raised his hands up in the air, admitting that he was at a disadvantage. "Woah Woah! Settle down! No reason to get excited." He then heard off in the distance the sound of engines approaching his position. He gave a subtle smirk as to not give anything away.
"Well as much as much as I love chatting with you..." Torchwick smirked, and at that moment a small airship came roaring over the rooftops, letting down a rope ladder to which he grabbed onto. " ...I'm afraid I must make my exit. I must now bid you farewell." The airship started to turn, attempting a speedy getaway. The hooded archer let loose his arrow, setting it on a collision course with Torchwick's head. Before it hit its mark however, it was deflected by Tochwick's cane, and the arrow dropped back towards the earth.
The hooded assassin remained still as the airship flew further and further into the the night. He then sensed a unfamiliar presence behind him. He turned around in a flash, his bow back into two blades and on guard, but quickly relaxed when he saw who it was.
Standing there was a man in a black unzipped suit over a black buttoned vest and green undershirt with dark green pants. He had white gloves on his hands, black trouser shoes, a green scarf with a cross shaped pin attached around his neck. His skin was pale white and tousled grey hair and brown eyes glinted from behind shaded glasses. A straight, cane like object was in his right hand.
"That was quite the feat, young man. Your skills are truly amazing, especially at your age." the man said, taking small steps toward the other person, who still had his hood up.
"May we speak in private? I have a proposition for you." he continued, waiting patiently for a response. The hooded man gave a slight nod, putting his blades into his quiver. "Very well. follow me."
After a few minutes of walking they arrived in a small room in the backside of one of the many buildings that lined the street. Inside there was a small rectangular table with a chair on either side of it.
"Just relax and take a seat." Said the man in the suit, already sitting in a chair. The hooded man accepted and sat down.
" My name is Professor Ozpin." he began, "I am the headmaster of an academy called Beacon that trains young men and women to fight the evils of this world, known as Huntsman and Huntresses. Have you heard of it?" the hooded individual raised his head, showing off his deep green eyes. Ozpin had his attention. "May I ask who you are?"
The man gave a small nod and took off his hood, now revealing spiky white hair with bangs that almost touched the tip of his nose. He responded with only three words.
"Azure...Azure Knyte."
" I see. Well Azure, I must ask you some questions." said Ozpin. Azure stayed silent, waiting for the headmaster to speak.
"Where did you learn to fight like that?"
"I was taught."
"By who?"
"Lots of different people." replied Azure, a tone of uneasiness lingered in his answer.
" Alright." said Ozpin, picking up on the fact that Azure wasn't comfortable to disclose the information " I was just curious. Next: Do you want to be a Huntsman?"
The white haired boy shifted his cape, revealing the white tunic and tan brown pants he had been hiding underneath his long garb.
"Yes, I have been considering it for a while now."
" I see. Final question: Why do you want to become a Huntsman? Is it to slay monsters?" said Ozpin, his back resting in his chair.
Azure closed his eyes in consideration only opening them again when he was ready to give his answer.
"Well..." he began, "Not exactly...I have a lot of unfinished business. I want redemption for the mistakes I've made. And..." Azure paused, pulling out a silver necklace with a small sapphire hanging from the chain. "I've got a promise to keep." He put the necklace around his neck, tucking it into his tunic. "To protect others and do what I think is right."
After a moment's thought, Ozpin nodded. "I see. Well congratulations Azure! consider yourself enrolled at Beacon." He said, extending his hand to close the deal. Azure took it and gave it a quick shake, a look of shock and a bit of confusion on his face.
Ozpin smiled at the expression and explained his reasoning. "You have the physical talent and the right motivations in my eyes. You need not prove anything else to me."
"...Not to sound ungrateful, but that's all?" Azure asked blankly.
"Yes."
"But...but I don't think I really did anything to earn this."
Ozpin raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what would you call what you just did? Beating all of those trained thugs by yourself? You obviously didn't just magically obtain such skills, now did you?"
Azure pondered the Headmaster's words as he continued. "Understand that Beacon Academy strives to accept applicants from all walks of life. While you may not be willing to delve your past to me right now, it would be a shame to let your gift go to waste. I only wish to extend an invitation to what can be a bright future for you."
There was a long pause. Azure then nodded his head, his mind made up. "Alright then. Thank you sir, I really appreciate this chance." He said gratefully, a small but appreciative smile on his lips.
"Not a problem. Now, the air transports leave tomorrow at ten o'clock, so don't be late."
Azure nodded in understanding.
"Good! from this point on you are a huntsman in training. Have a good night." The professor left the small room and closed the door behind him, leaving Azure alone.
So now it starts... thought Azure, untucking the necklace from his shirt and placing it in one of his palms, watching as the lights danced off the polished surface of the sapphire, One life ends...and another begins. Leaving the room, he merged into the night to prepare himself for his new life.