The Wanderer

Long ago before the times of Hunters and Huntresses, Remnant was a dark place full of monstrous creatures called Grimm. They had ruled over the light destroying any sign of hope, but there were whispers of hero who could destroy the Grimm. He was known as the wanderer and many had heard of the slayer of Grimm he was hope in this fragile world. In a small village near what would be the school Beacon Academy, his legend was born, he was a small child who grew up in a world of danger and death losing his family to the Grimm made him determined to fight them. His attempts were noble but ultimately would spell doom for him, after a gruelling fight he fled to a cave to await his fate, he stumbled upon an old man taking refuge from the battle.

"I'm sorry I can leave if you wish… argh" The boy said stopping only for the pain in his side." I don't think you'll be leaving anywhere in a hurry boy. Here drink this you'll get better."

The old man thrust a cup into the boy's hands. "I've been watching from here your determined if not sloppy, but your heart is there, you could be a warrior with the right tools though, not those." He gestured to the wooden sword and shield the boy clutched. "I was a warrior in my day, all warrior's need the right tools."

The old man staggered to his feet and moved further into the cave, he emerged with a long sword and a jingling bag. The boy looked perplexed at the bag wondering what it could hold. "Dust. Mined it myself tricky business, dangerous too. Just place a piece into the hilt here." He gestures to a small hollowed hole in the hilt.

"The sword will do the rest. Why don't you take a break, and try it in the morning the Grimm won't bother us tonight." The boy was too tired to object and soon fell into a slumber.

When he woke the cave was bare except for a bag of Dust and his new sword. The boy eager to try them rushed to the entrance to find the old man using his wooden tools to ward off a Grimm. The boy smashed a piece of Dust into the hilt and watched in awe as the sword started to glow and pulse, he could feel the power the blade had and made quick work of the Grimm slicing the creature in half. The boy thanked the old man for his gift and vowed to protect the world from the creatures of Grimm. Or so the story is told, legends like this often become less truthful through the ages, but perhaps the main part of this story is true that if hope can exist it can spread. Hope will always live in the wisdom of the old and the heart of the young, hope can never die.