Thank you all very much for the overwhelming positive feedback and support! It means a lot to me. As such, chapter two will be coming out... well, right now! Nearly a week ahead of schedule. That is the good part about posting a few chapters behind where I am currently up to. Thank you all very much, and I hope I do not disappoint you with the rest of the Fic!
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"So, are you feeling okay, crater face?" Jaune asked, pulling Ruby up from the ground.
"Hey!" Ruby pouted. "My name is Ruby!"
"Jeanne Arc," Jaune replied, bowing slightly and releasing her hand. She suddenly had a mischievous idea, remembering how she had first introduced herself to Ruby. "Short, sweet, rolls off the tongue… Ladies love it," She finished, winking coyly at Ruby.
Ruby made a noise, not expecting the flirtatious behaviour, and became flushed. Jaune smiled in response. The two started walking off; Ruby leading without meaning too, and Jaune knew that once again, they were going the wrong way. She had memorised Beacon's layout, but this was Ruby's first time even seeing the Academy. They fell into a companionable silence, but Jaune could tell Ruby was feeling awkward. She probably didn't realise Jaune had only been flirting as a joke.
"Just out of curiosity, are you not younger than the rest of the students?" Jaune asked.
Ruby became embarrassed, averting her gaze slightly. "Umm… yeah, I'm fifteen."
"Then you must be an impressive fighter, to have been let in two years early."
"W-well not really, I just stopped a robbery." Ruby said self-consciously, trying to pass it off as a small deal. Jaune knew she always had trouble accepting compliments, yet despite this, she had chosen to be a Huntress, a career that would place her in the spotlight.
Jaune chuckled. "You should adapt to receiving praise, even if you feel you do not deserve it. Someone with your talent will need too."
Ruby blushed again, averting her gaze further. "Everyone in Beacon is a great fighter, I'm nothing special. You haven't even seen me fight yet, how would you know?" Ruby replied.
Jaune tapped her nose knowingly, and said nothing. The two once again fell into a silence, which a hyperactive Ruby couldn't tolerate.
"Soo… I got this thing," Ruby declared, trying to get a conversation going and pulling out her scythe. Jaune smiled, Ruby always was a weapon maniac.
"A customisable, high impact sniper rifle. Impressive," Jaune replied. Ruby beamed.
"You knew what it was!" Ruby shouted in excitement, glad to find a fellow weapons maniac. "So what've you got?"
Jaune opened her mouth to reply, but then stopped as he wasn't actually sure. She didn't have Crocea Mors on her waist. "It's in my suitcase." Jaune said confidently, gesturing to it, and even though it was a guess, she knew somehow that it was right. "You will see it during the Initiation ceremony."
Ruby pouted. "Can't you give me a hint?"
Jaune smiled and ruffled Ruby's hair. "It is custom, like your Scythe." Another guess, but once again she felt it was right. "Now perhaps we should stop the tour of the grounds and head to the main hall."
Ruby stopped, looking around. "I was wondering where we were going."
"Follow me." Jaune said, walking in what she knew was the correct direction.
"Why'd you help me out back there? In the courtyard?" Ruby asked.
"You looked like you needed a friend." Jaune replied.
"So… we're friends?"
"It would seem that way." Jaune replied, smiling, and Ruby beamed.
"Ruby! Over here! I saved you a spot!" Yang called out the second they walked in.
"Oh, sorry… I have to go. It was nice talking to you, Jeanne!" Ruby said, scuttling off, and Jaune chuckled. Even through a war, Ruby had barely changed in personality. She had a way of just… making people feel happy, a great feature in a leader. Jaune felt eyes on her, and turned to see Pyrrha staring at her. When she met Pyrrha's gaze, Pyrrha blushed and turned away.
That was odd, Jaune thought, turning and walking to a somewhat empty corner. She didn't need to hear Ozpin's speech again, once had been enough, and if she kept having conversations with her friends, who didn't know her, they might think something was up.
She thought of her conversation with Ruby, and how she didn't have Crocea Mors on hand. That meant she had likely not received it, for some reason. Crocea Mors… She felt a stab of pain at the name, and a feeling of betrayal. She frowned, wondering why that thought had elicited such a response.
She was snapped from her thoughts when someone walked up to her.
"Good day, ma'am." The faceless individual started. "I couldn't help but notice your radiant beauty, and I was wonder-"
"Thank you for your offer, but I am not interested." Jeanne interrupted politely, feeling annoyed. That was actually a fairly rude and shallow thing to do, when they didn't even know each others names. It meant all they cared about was her looks, and thought of her as some object to be acquired.
Once again, Jaune mentally slapped herself. Where had that come from?
The student walked off, visibly embarrassed.
She looked over and saw Weiss sarcastically talking to Ruby.
"Yeah! And we can paint our nails, and try on clothes, and talk about cute boys like… Tall, Dark haired and passive over there!" She said, gesturing to Ren, and Jaune would've doubled over in laughter if she had no self control. As it was, she still flinched as if she had been hit in the gut, looking around the crowd quickly, and feeling relieved Nora hadn't heard. She was also glad to see Ren hadn't, as if might have caused future interaction between the two to be awkward.
She looked up, and saw Ozpin had begun giving his speech, and she immediately tuned him out. Instead she watched the crowd, and saw Weiss, Ruby and Yang standing awkwardly together. Despite her apparent hate for the girl, Weiss still seemed to want to be around the optimist. Jaune mentally laughed, the two had always been awkward around each other, but even so always went out of their way to please the other.
Ozpin finished his short speech, and Glynda directed the first years to sleep in the ballroom. Jaune saw students begin swarming the exits and sighed, deciding to wait until those around her had cleared out. She instead headed to the locker room, unpacking her weapon and armour from the case. The weapon was huge, and didn't seem to have a shield, and the armour, even at first glance was vastly different from her previous armour. But she would deal with that problem when she came to it.
Why did she have bulky armour anyway? The reason she had previously used it was because she hadn't unlocked her aura, but even that was much less substantial. This looked like solid plate mail.
The suitcase was almost empty now, most of the weight and space having been the armaments. Inside were a few spare sets of clothing, and five sets of the girl's school uniform. I'm well prepared, she thought to herself with a chuckle. She took the time to get a better idea of what her outfit was like.
She was wearing some kind of gold dress, with silver stockings underneath. She had a brown unbuttoned jacket and a yellow shirt, with red fingerless gloves that went to her elbow. It was an… odd colour scheme, but it seemed to work. The clothes were also made of some very good quality material, and were incredibly comfortable.
When she closed the suitcase, she was surprised to find it collapsed in on itself, becoming a much smaller size, almost the size of a purse. It could collapse and expand? She thought in amazement. That was some incredibly advanced technology for such a silly use, although it was very convenient.
She sighed, noticing several other students beginning to enter the locker room. She quickly shut her locker, taking note of the number. 636. Jaune turned and headed to the ballroom, deciding she could try to get an early night.
Arriving without hassle, she lay a sleeping bag down against a wall, as out of the way as possible, and lay down, checking her scroll. Six P.M. Jaune sighed, reaching into her suitcase and pulling out a book without thinking. 'A tale of two cities'. Apparently, she was more than a third of the way into the book, but as Jaune had no memory of any of the content, she removed her bookmark and started from the beginning.
It was actually quite interesting, and Jaune found herself understanding words she previously hadn't. Another advantage, she supposed, quickly becoming absorbed in the story, which was surprising. She could tell by the style of writing that she would normally find it mind-numbingly boring. It seems a lot of minor things had changed without her notice.
She heard someone else approach, and lay down to right. She spared a quickly glance, and it was Blake, who lit some candles and pulled out a book of her own. Jaune smiled, that was the equivalent of a hug from Blake, she was usually quite reclusive when it came to strangers. Perhaps she recognised Jaune as a kindred spirit. Or, more likely, she thought when glancing around the room, Blake had decided a fellow reader might be less loud and obnoxious that the rest in the room. Besides, the spot Jeanne had chosen wasn't occupied apart from the two.
Jaune turned back to his book, only to be interrupted by more footsteps. Man, people could be loud.
"Hellooooo!" A familiar voice called out. Oh yeah, she had forgotten about this moment. "I believe you two may know each other?"
Blake looked hesitantly up from her book. "Aren't you that girl that exploded?"
"Uh, yeah! My name's Ruby, but y-"
"You can just call her 'crater face'," Jaune interjected, smirking slightly.
"As, Jeanne, didn't see you there!" Ruby said awkwardly. Fair enough, Jaune thought to herself. After all, she was sitting just outside range of Blake's candles. The chandeliers on the ceiling shed... amazingly little light.
"Oh?" Yang asked, raising an eyebrow. "So this is the infamous Jeanne I heard about?"
Blake looked at Jeanne, confused by the sudden interjection. Ruby stopped Yang, and the two had a quiet discussion quickly, and Jaune turning back to her book.
"So… what's your name?" Yang asked.
Blake sighed again, putting down her book in defeat.
"Blake."
"Well, Blake, I'm Yang! Ruby's older sister! I like your bow!"
"Thanks." Blake responded, irritated.
"It goes great with your… pyjamas!"
Jaune resisted the urge to burst out laughing. Last time she had tuned out far earlier in this conversation, and didn't realise just how bad Yang was at improvisation.
"Right…?" Blake replied.
Ruby laughed awkwardly. "Nice night, don't you think?" Yang continued.
"Yes – it's lovely! Almost as lovely as this book!" The sisters continued to stand there, seemingly oblivious. "That I will continued to read…" Blake elaborated. The two still didn't get it. "As soon as you leave."
Finally Yang seemed to get the message. "Yeah, this girl's a lost cause."
"What's it about?" Ruby asked.
"Huh?"
"Your book. Does it have a name?"
"Well… i-it's about a man with two souls, each fighting for control over his body."
Jaune tuned out the conversation, realising it would probably go on for a while. Instead, she bookmarked her page, put her book away and began going to sleep. She heard a bit of ruckus, but was quickly able to ignore it, feeling it fade away into the background. By the time Blake blew out her candles, Jaune was already asleep.
|(/\)|
Jeanne ran forward to meet her foe, a hulking Beowulf. It was an alpha among alphas, easily twice her height, with arms and legs like tree trunks. In her arms was a sword, its grip a perfect match for her hands, perfectly balanced and almost weightless. It truly was a terrific blade. The Beowulf swung one of its massive claws in a rapid attack at her head. She raised the sword to block.
And it snapped. The front half of the blade fell to the ground, leaving a jagged edge instead of the once razor sharp blade. Jeanne growled in annoyance, activating her Semblance. She felt a chill wash over her, quickly spreading out, and the Beowulf stopped mid lunge. She calmly walked up to it and jabbed her sword… or what was left of it, through the beast's skull, leaving it there and walking off.
She turned off her Semblance, and heard a satisfactory thunk as the beast hit the ground, as well as the sound of the blade shattering loudly. Her father stood at the edge of the clearing, having been ready to intervene should it have been necessary. She had told him it would not be.
Jeanne growled in annoyance. "That was the third sword this week! Why are blacksmiths forging weapons of such poor quality?"
"Calm down, Jeanne. They do their best with limited resources. Not everyone can make a masterpiece like Crocea Mors."
Jeanne winced at the name of that blade, and her father immediately stepped back, knowing that had been the wrong thing to say. Carelessness would not get one very far, and he knew Jeanne was still prickly about that particular subject.
"I'm your eighth child! EIGHTH! And you are still going to try for another, just so you may have a son to pass that weapon on too? Does it not deserve to be in the hands of a warrior, rather than whatever child happens to be born male? What difference should ones gender make in what weapon they use?" She snapped.
"Jeanne, it is tradition…" Her father replied weakly.
"What if the boy does not want to fight? Will you make him pick up and use the blade, are you that desperate to get your child killed simply because you wish to dictate their life?"
"Jeanne…" He said softly.
Jeanne looked away sharply, a tear beginning to well in her eye. "No ordinary blade can withstand my Semblance, you know this. With the spirits of my ancestors aiding me, I would be almost unstoppable in combat. And yet you retain that blade simply because of a meaningless tradition."
"It is because of that tradition that the blade is so special, you know this, Jeanne. If the blade's nature is conflicted, it would become nothing more that a brittle relic."
Jeanne stood up, shoulders back and donning a look of detachment. "Very well, then I shall have to make my own blade, since apparently I am not... worthy, of a family heirloom." She said, stomping off through the woods.
|(/\)|
Jeanne stood over the forge, coated in sweat after hours upon hours of work, yet continued with the slow, precise work ignoring the immense strain on her muscles. The blade was nearly finished anyway, and putting it down now could damage it, which would be a shame after nearly ten hours work on it. But it had been worth it.
She studied the blade, which was immaculate and perfectly forged. After hundreds of attempts over the past three years, she had finally made the perfect blade. There wasn't a single blemish, not a single weak spot that might cause she blade to brittle with age, nor was there any part of the metal that wasn't shining a bright silver, rather than the usual dull grey. She had poured her very soul into this blade, literally. Her aura was infused with the metal itself, and as she moved it around she could hear it hum in response to her touch.
The blade was longer than most would consider practical, nearly as long as she was tall, and had dust weaved into the very fabric of the metal of which it was comprised. The grip fit her hand perfectly, as if she had spent years wearing it out through practise. The weapon truly was a masterpiece.
She felt a tear slide down her cheek, the first tear she had shed in the three years she had worked on the project, and saw it fall onto the blade, leaving the tiniest of indentations. She smiled, now the blade was even more like her. To most, it would seem perfect and flawless, just as most would act as if she was. She was just better at concealing her flaws then most, but people were too stupid to realise that. But closer study by those who knew what to look for, and they would be able to see it.
She started work on the final touch, carving the blade's name into the handle. Many would have trouble naming their weapons, but when you spent hundreds of hours to get where you were, it was almost instinctual. Cruentus Mors… That was her blade.
|(/\)|
Jeanne stood nervously in front of a tree. It was not like her to be nervous, but now was the final test, to see if Cruentus Mors would withstand her Semblance. She didn't want it to break, but if it couldn't then it would be useless… just like every other weapon she had ever been allowed to wield. It did not matter how perfect the sword was, how well made, none could withstand the sheer pressure her Semblance put them through.
She took up her usual fighting stance, holding her sword parallel to the ground in front of her, and activated it. She felt the familiar pulse of energy, and everything around her ground to a halt. She took a few hesitant steps closer to the tree, cutting her sword through it like it wasn't there.
A line appeared where the blow would effect, as usual, but as of yet, the tree was not affected. She stepped back and deactivated her Semblance. Suddenly, the tree exploded in motion, a huge hole appearing around the cut she had made, causing the top half of the tree to be sent flying. Jeanne leapt out of the way, seeing it had been about to hit her.
She looked down at her sword, which was still intact, and quickly checked it over for damage. She beamed and jumped up in joy, before quickly looking around in embarrassment to see if anyone had been nearby. Luckily no one was.
Her sword hummed stronger, as if in response to her happy mood, and she quickly went to work clearing off the scraps of tree that had landed on it, returning it to its previous shining form. It had started to rain, but that did not dampen her mood in the slightest. She sheathed her sword and turned, jogging back towards her home.
|(/\)|
Jeanne's eyes snapped open, and she sat up immediately, feeling completely awake and alert. She checked her scroll and groaned, realising it was only five in the morning. Well, she always was an early riser. Wait, that wasn't right. Jeanne, no, Jaune, grabbed her head in her hands, shaking it to try and clear her thoughts. Okay… so as time went on, it seemed her thought process was changing to match his new body. She stood up, taking a change of clothes from her suitcase and heading to the changing room.
She had to mentally stop herself, going into the women's changing room rather than the men's, and Jaune chuckled. That would've been awkward if someone else had walked in, although she suspected no one else would use them for now. She may not be attracted to girls anymore, but it would still be awkward.
Back to the problem at hand… although was it really a problem if she was changing to fit her environment? But still, it wouldn't really be her, would it. Did it really matter though, if it meant she could save her friends?
Jaune groaned in frustration, pushing the thought from her head. It would either happen, or it wouldn't, there was nothing she could do about it. For now, she would just have to take things one at a time, and plan to stop Cinder. Whatever she had to go through to do it, she would.
Jaune was once again snapped out of her thoughts by her own image, staring back at her from a mirror. Her hair was damp, indicating she had showered, and she was fully dressed and ready for the day. She checked the time, and over half an hour had passed. She really needed to stop spacing out.
But what were those dreams she had experienced last night? Were they her memories? They would certainly fill a gap in her past, although it didn't make sense that she would remember them while asleep, although it could prove vital, as she now had a general idea of what her Semblance did. It would also probably help with her surprise at seeing her weapon, if she already knew what it was. Cruentus Mors… Bloody death.
Jaune chuckled. Well, that was a fairly violent name, although she imagined it was fitting for a weapon, especially given what she had seen her Semblance could do. If a single cut to a tree made it look as though it had been shot by a cannon, one could only imagine what would happen to a human… Perhaps she would find out against Cinder. There was no saving someone like that, and she knew Cinder was far too smart to be captured, even by someone with knowledge of future events.
Still, Jaune felt somewhat squeamish at the prospect of killing someone. After all, she was a Huntress, whose task was to protect humanity from the creatures of Grimm… taking a life was a disgusting thought, no matter the circumstances.