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[JAUNE ARC]

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Welcome to the world of Monster Hunter!

It was a cliff edge, just past a viridian wood. It jutted out over the calm, azure waters below. The wind lightly blowing towards the forest, it was a scene of serenity. A lone figure was on the cliff edge. The figure's highly fit body sat cross legged, with only one torn, white, scrap of cloth to protect the figure's modesty. The chest was noticeably, slowly, rising and falling, indicating deep breathing. This was an accurate statement- the figure had its eyes closed in concentration, as if meditating.

Tied to the figure's waist, next to the loincloth, were two small satchels. Inside one was an assortment of objects, spherical in appearance, all no bigger than a tennis ball. Inside the other one was a myriad of vials, the contents mixed. Some were filled with an odd, light-green fluid. Others contained either orange or red liquids.

Facing the figure were five items. One of them, a long sword, was on the ground. It had a simple blue hilt, but the blade itself was a shining, mystical metal. Lying on top of it was a unique shield. It looked and felt rocky, sans the glowing green center. Next to the sword and shield were two blades, both stabbed into the ground, forming an "x". Both were cyan in color, with the handles sporting some sort of white, furry material. Sparks danced across their bone-like, plated edges. The last item was no weapon. Instead, it was the remnants of what once used to be one. A massive stone fist, chipped and aged, half buried in the ground.

The figured opened its blue eyes. At the edge of one, a small teardrop had formed. After more of the salty liquid was added to it, it was finally free to run down the figure's cheek. Passing by flowing golden locks of hair, it reached the end of the chin, and fell off. If one looked closely as it fell to the dirt below, one could see an agglomeration of memories flowing within.

A tall man and a ten-year old boy were in a small camp among sand dunes. They were sitting on some logs- it appeared the man was attempting to teach the boy in the art of crafting something. As the man kept pointing at his craft, unrecognizable sounds were emitted from the mouth (the owner of these memories had long forgotten what exactly those noises meant). The child had a look of pure concentration on his face, trying to carefully finish making the ball-like object in front of him. However, the boy's arm slipped- this caused the material he was working with to rupture, sending an ear-piercing wave of sound cross the sands.

The child was disheartened- the project he'd been working on ruptured right in his hands. With some reluctantcy, the man patted the boy on the shoulder as a calming gesture. The boy looked to the adult with sad eyes. With a sigh, the man had the two of them start again.

It was among their first hunts in those primal woods. The boy was meant to take on a pack of pink, furry, smelly, ape-like creatures using sword that was so big one could block using it. Struggling under its massive girth, he had difficulty in swinging it around to cut the primates.

Within the bushes mere meters away was the adult, sitting upon the body of the apes' alpha. Watching the young boy's performance made him release a large anime-style sweat drop. Still, 'twas better than his performance with a both and arrow on the mountain island, and far exceeded his usage of the gun-lance in the desert. He didn't have the problem of overcharging anything explosive with the sword or bow.

The two were having a nice picnic in the tundra. The man was happily feasting upon the fried animal tongue in his hands. The child, however, was having difficulty cooking his steak, either charring it or being stuck at medium. He remembered what he was trying to do- perfectly cook the slab, otherwise he would go hungry until dinner. As his stomach growled, he let out a pitiful whine.

The man glanced at the large tongue in his hand. Deciding it was too big for him to eat on his own, he split it in half with the boy.

As a test before his next hunt, preferably against an alpha creature, the man made the child fight against a large pack of creatures (numbers were something the owner mostly forgot). The group was large and varied, ranging from boar-like to reptilian, amphibian to primatish. Witnessing the performance of his pupil, the man had a smile ghost his face. The boy was dispatching swathes of the group with not much difficulty, effectively employing the twin weapons held in each hand.

He noted how far his pupil had gone. He was far improved in the crafting of medicinal and combat necessities- he wasn't blowing them in their faces as often, nor did he create many foul smelling concoctions anymore. This was, of course, a bit pale compared to his increase in battle skills. Dodging a body that had been launched his way, he was lightly grinning now. Definitely pale in comparison.

The man was shocked. He honestly did not expect all the care he was being given to treat his severed appendage. He thought the boy viewed them as student and teacher. Now, as the boy worked hard to create a hearty meal while prepping the bandages, the man understood. Lying on his log, he understood- they both had grown fond of each other. He felt something with the child he hadn't felt since his old leader died- he felt friendship.

At first, he was annoyed at his companion. The bridge between the three and four star monsters couldn't have been too big, right? If he could take on what was technically three at once, then he should be able to take on a four-star by this point. And besides, he had his new companion, his new pet, to help him out. Those had to count for something, right?

The fact that he was lying on his log, wrapped in bandages, stated otherwise. He and the other creature were soundly beaten by their supposed prey, a purple leviathan with a massive mouth and a dangling lure in front of its face. The duo severely underestimated the creature- it had taken mere seconds for the two of them to be fading into unconsciousness. The two weren't even able to TRY and attack.

What was worse, however, was the disappointed look and scolding he received for trying something far from his reach. As the larger adult tended to his wounds, tears started to stream from the child's eyes. With almost no hesitation, the adult wrapped his arms around the child, patting his back, and comforting him. The child, for a small split second, held the man not as a mentor but as a father-figure instead.

It was supposed to have been a simple enough hunt. They would fight against the strange wyvern near the cliffs of Kotoko, they would bring it back to camp, and they would carve it, the child doing so reluctantly. So, what went wrong?

What happened was something neither of them really prepared for- the return of a monster. A monster that stole one of the man's arms.

It attacked them before they could hunt. Powerful arms and claws ripped at their rubbery target, before the red and gold wyvern turned their attention to them. Putting the child behind cover, the man took out a massive hammer. Sparks flew as the man did battle with the creature- bestial claws slashing at broad chests, and the sound of a powerful mallet hitting flesh sounded through the air. The boy sat mesmerized behind his cover, watching his master and father figure fight with the wyvern.

The hunter managed to scar the eye of the beastie, and the boy cheered for his master's sake. Then, it turned to the child's master, eyes burning with fury. Its wings spread apart, and with a mighty flap it sent itself hurtling into the sky. Its head and neck puffed up- both the man and the child knew that it would launch its blade-like scales at them. As it climbed higher and higher, it spotted a tuft of blond hair- it had flow high enough to bypass the child's cover.

With a mighty screech, it swung its head forth, flinging golden darts at the young child. Time slowly passed by for the boy- his end was likely to be met here. At least, it should have been, had the adult not sacrificed his life for the child. He felt himself be pushed, and a moment later he saw himself staring at a man with sharp scales embedded into his bleeding back.

Taking this moment to share last words with the lad, the man got back up. Looking toward the wyvern, he saw it landing close by the cliff edge. Thinking how to end this quickly, the man dropped his hammer to the ground. He let his body glow a dull gold color, before stampeding towards the beast. His shoulder leading the way, he threw both of them over the cliffs.

He cried tears of sadness over that. That man, who he had been as close as he was with his real dad, was gone. One of his closest companions had saved his life at the cost of their own. Falling to his knees, all he did was wail in sadness.

A shadow flew over him. Looking up, his wails of sadness turned to cries of anger. That blasted monster was still alive! As he saw it leave, he stood there, watching. He was too far away now, and not strong enough to take vengeance. All he could do now was drag the hammer to the cliff. Embedding it there, he left it as a grave.

He was heading back now, his recollection of memories for today having been finished. He picked up his weapons- the two blades, the sword and shield. Wiping the tears from his eyes, he set off from his master's grave. Eyes ablaze with his spirit, and a white glow surrounding him, he set off to find the wyvern.

He would bury this six year old hatchet- and he would do it in the Seregios's chest.

A/N: ... screw it, if even my friends who sneak their 3DS's to school to hunt a Deviljho can't get it, then I guess I give up. I'll ask again after Jaune meets up with the Seregios again, and if not then sometime during Beacon.

On another note, you guys saw this coming, The Man was bound to die. I did say that six years was the amount of time he spent truly alone. This ain't like Arrow. However, like Arrow, there are going to be frequent flashbacks, except these flashbacks will be occurring as he travels to the Seregios's nest. These will fill in the six-year gap between this and the last chapter, along with sometimes giving more insight into Jaune and The Man's "father & son"-esque relationship. Oh, and probably will tell what happens to that particular Kut-Ku

So, give me all the criticisms! Be it through review or through PM, let me know your thoughts, especially anything that needs to be worked on.

See ya later!