The Death Bound Knight

Pt II

"Left!"

Turning sharply to the left, Jaune brought his blade down in a slash, tearing apart an imaginary enemy. Sweat poured off his forehead and off his face, down his bare torso as he took deep breaths as he shifted his stance and blocked an invisible sword and thrust through the air, his blade never wavering.

"Right!" His instructor called out through the air. Changing his direction, he brought his blade up and to the right to knock back any foe who would be there. His muscles straining under the intense training regiment he has been following ever since he came to Mistral. His muscular form shone in the sun as he brought his shield up and blocked while stepping away to dodge another imaginary attack.

"Counter-Block-Parry!" Swapping his blade to a reverse grip, he brought it above his head and followed the movements ingrained in his bones. The blade sailed through the air to and stayed, he twisted the sword and turned around to hold the block for just a moment before swinging his sword into a parry and cut down another small dust cloud he kicked up in the small, sand covered training area.

"Keep your shield up!" He brought his shield up and peered over it. In front of him were one of the many training halls in Mistral, a blend of traditional Mistrali training room where the room was wide and open with white paper walls with sliding doors and the training halls that the warriors of old trained near the eastern coast. With stone pillars lining an area with sand for the ground to soften any falls the person might have during sparring. The sun and blue sky brought light into the room from the opened roof of the room, bringing with it a gentle breeze and the smell of the lake.

"All right, final push! Keep your grip tight!" Jaune could hear the leather on the handle of his sword cry out in anguish from his grip on it. At the instructor's command, Jaune rushed forward and brought down the blade with a heavy, overhead slash.

"Again!" He slashed to the right and brought the sword up again to bring it down even harder than the time before.

"And again!"Following the momentum of his attack, he spun around and added that to his final swing with a yell of exertion as he landed and sucked air in as he held the pose. The tip of his sword just inches away from the sand and his shield to the side, gasping deeply as he waited for the next set of instructions for him to do.

"Okay, now assuming you're not cheating, we can take a break." His instructor gave a light giggle as she spoke. Jaune let out a deep sigh as he closed his eyes, letting his body relax a little as he stood up from his stance. He dropped his sword into a relaxed reverse grip and his head drooped slightly, letting her voice soothe his sore muscles. "I know this can be frustrating..."He looked over at his instructor and made his way towards her. Walking up three steps and out of the sand as he picked up his scroll and looked down at the cracked screen gently.

"...and it can feel like so much effort to progress such a small amount, but I want you to know that I'm proud of you. I've never met someone so determined to better themselves. You've grown so much since we started training. And this is just the beginning." His instructor, Pyrrha, said to him with a small smile on her face. Behind her was Beacon, unbroken and whole, like they all were once upon a time. Though they were years apart now, she still spoke to him like this, the pre-recorded messages she made for him so he could continue his training over the break during the winter.

"Jaune, I-I..." He knew this part, how many times has he lived through this pain, watching her as she struggled with her emotions to him. She looked way from the device she used to record this and struggled with her words. How blind and stupid he was those few, short years ago. He could see it in her eyes now, the way she looked at him like that, if only he had noticed sooner maybe he could have stopped her somehow, some way.

She looked back at the camera, at him, and placed a hand over her heart and smiled softly. "I want you to know that I'm just happy to be a part of your life. I'll always be here for you, Jaune." He watched as the video stopped suddenly and grew smaller and slipped back into place with the other two dozen videos she had recorded for him. He did not know how long he stood there, staring at his device as he remembered all the times he had with the fire-haired woman. The device darkened and the screen turned black due to inactivity, and he was left staring at his own scared face.

With a pained sigh, he turned the screen on again and loaded up the next training video she made for him and set it back onto the small stand he had for the device before returning to his place in the training sand. "Alright, Jaune, just like we practised. Follow these instructions. Shield up." He followed the instructions and was ready for the first action when the door to the area suddenly slide open with the sound of wood hitting wood. Only a handful of people were able to interrupt his training without him getting angry, and she was one of them.

The mother of Pyrrha Nikos walked towards him, she looked almost exactly like her save for age touching her features lightly and her eyes being a deep blue rather than rich emerald. Her hair was also a few shades darker than her daughter's only highlighted her maturity. She was wearing a traditional clothing from the eastern Mistrali coast, a large white chiton that fell down her shoulders and down to her ankles. A small belt around her waist with simple emeralds hanging from her ears and a familiar headdress was all the accessories she wore.

Even with the simple flat sandals, she wore that was fastened up her ankles, she was at eye level with him, marking just one more thing she had inherited from her mother. Her sun-kissed arms were bare from her clothing as she made her way to her, extending a towel to him with a small smile on her lips. Jaune slipped the blade between his arm and the shield before accepting it from her with a nod. "Thank you, Mrs Nikos," Jaune said as he wiped the sweat off his face and took a deep breath of the clean material.

"Jaune, how many times do I need to tell you," She began as she placed a hand on his shoulder. "Call me Pyralis," He nodded again as he looked up at the scroll that was still playing, casting her daughter's voice into the room as she gave her instructions. Pyralis looked over at it and he saw the pain in her eyes, hearing her voice again was just as painful, if not more, for her than it was for him. Reaching up, he squeezed her hand gently before walking over to his scroll and turning the video off before they could share in their sorrow again, simply crying over the loss of partner and daughter.

"Was there something you needed?" He asked her after he put away the practice equipment he was using in training and turned to her. His voice brought her out of whatever memory she had become lost in and looked at him.

"Members of the council is here to see you." She said softly with a sad smile. Jaune nodded and began to dry off the rest of his body with haste since he did not want to keep the governing body of Mistral waiting for him. Throwing his black shirt over his head, he paused at the door and bowed lightly, a simple gesture that honoured Pyrrha's ancestors as a thank you for using their training sands. Walking next to Pyralis, once again thanked her for letting him stay with her in her large house while he was in the city.

"Please, Jaune. It's no problem at all for me, it's been nice having someone else in the house. It makes feel a lot less empty" She told him with the same sad smile he saw her make whenever the topic went to her family. Her husband died during the Second Assault and she was given a medical discharge from the military, leaving her alone in the large house that Pyrrha's fame had bought them. Championships and endorsements deals brought much wealth to the family, more than enough to live a comfortable life, but with no one to share it with, it all seems pointless.

Soon enough, they arrived in the living room and the members of the Mistral Council got out of his seats to greet them. Jaune noticed that the table had a large purple cloth over it with something under it, but before he could ask about it, his attention was pulled to the men who now stood before him. One he recognised as the Spartan commander a few weeks ago from the swamplands, where Jaune stopped a vanguard push which prevented the defensive line from crumbling. He wore the blue and green camouflage with a dark beard and braid wrapped around his head.

The second man he did not recognise. He was a tall man with rich, golden hair. He had pale green eyes and a large goatee that dominated his mouth and chin. He wore a white a gold outfit with a lanyard that wrapped around his neck and into a breast pocket. He shook Jaune's hand and he could feel the man's strength, but he used only the most minimal touch to shake Jaune's hand. Looking between the two of them, the commander spoke, gesturing to the man. "Lad, this is professor Lionheart from Haven Academy. Professor, this is Jaune Arc"

"An honour, Mr Arc." The professor said the only hint of a smile he got was when the ends of his moustache twitched upwards. "The Commander Crimson has told us much of your victories in the past," Jaune nodded simply as he looked over at the commander, who simply took a step back and slipped his hands behind his back. "On behalf of the other council members, we cannot thank you enough for your dedication and sacrifice to protecting a home that isn't yours"

"You honour me, professor, but I'm just honouring my friend's memory by doing what she would have done."

Lionheart nodded light and cleared his throat. "Yes, well, your actions have caused quite a stir with the people. You are more than a Huntsmen, you're a symbol of hope that maybe one day, we can drive back the Atlesians from our home. In olden times, when Anima was filled with different kingdoms, instead of having all out wars, generals from different armies would often elect a champion or guardian to fight each other, saving the lives of countless people. Entire wars were often waged by only a few people and the generals were expected to honour the outcome.

"The council members, myself included, have all decided that what we need right now is a champion to lead us out of these dark days. There was a unanimous decision in our choice of who that should be. We would like to give this honour to you, Jaune," He said with a small gesture. Jaune was stricken silent, he did not know what to say. Should he take the mantle? Could he protect an entire kingdom when he could not even protect his own partner? He was about to ask if he could have some time to think about it when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Looking back at Pyralis Nikos and all thoughts of doubt left his mind. If given the same offer, he knew what Pyrrha would do. Looking back at professor Lionheart, Jaune took a deep breath and nodded to him. "I accept this honour" Jaune said softly. The council member let out a breath of relief as he beckoned Kaune closer to him. Turning to face the table, Jaune stood with him as he looked at the purple cloth and the shapes under it.

"Thank you, Jaune. This means a lot to so many, more than you know. So please, accept these gifts on behalf of the council," Pulling the cloth off, the headmaster of Haven academy revealed a full set of new armour. Pure, snow-white with golden trim breastplate and shoulder guard. Gauntlets that went up to his elbows with reinforced gloves to go with it. Greaves and boots in a matching pattern lay below the breastplate and next to them was a sword and scabbard.

Slowly, he reached out and picked up the modified Crocea Mors and pulled it out of the collapsed shield. He admired the craftsmanship of the sword and shield, they had made the blade longer without taking away or altering the weight shift at all. The same could be said for the shield, he opened it and saw the familiar shape under the double crescent moon of his house. He gave the blade a few experimental swings before sliding it back into place and placing it all back onto the table.

"I hope it's to your liking," Lionheart said cautiously as he nervously tapped against the breastplate, just making sure it worked.

"Yes, thank you"

"Mrs Nikos was generous in providing the metal from her family's personal reserve in making this for you. I know it means a lot to her" Jaune looked back at the woman and she smiled at him as she gently traced the gold trimming that ran the length of the handguard on his sword.

"This metal has been in my family since ancient times, back when warriors were decided at the moment of birth. Young ones would journey into the mines and select their own ore to mine before bringing it back to be forged into their weapons and armour. But now there's no one left to carry the Nikos bloodline, so I give it to you. It's what she would have wanted." She blinked quickly and cleared her throat to stop the onslaught of tears threatening to pour out. He simply reached out and squeezed her shoulder lightly, anchoring her gently.

"Thank you" He whispered to her as he looked over his new armour and weapons and left to wash his body of the sweat and sand from his training. He scrubbed his skin in the large bath area of the house, he ensured each part of his body was free of filth before he would touch the armour that was gifted to him. He stood waist deep water and dragged a razor over his face, ridding himself of the stubble that had been growing for the past few days. As his body was cleaned, he noticed more and more scars on his tanned skin as he cleaned himself, a soft sigh as he remembered a few were from his training on the rooftops.

When he was satisfied with his cleanliness, he dried himself off and began to pull clean clothing over his body. Faded blue jeans that were easy to move around in and a tight, black shirt over his body. fully dressed, he walked down the hallways to the back yard where Pyralis was waiting for him. Next to her was his new armour and weapons on a table, next to her was a statue of old gods that were worshipped in times of wars hundreds of years ago.

Walking up to the table, he grabbed a gauntlet and slowly pulled it over his hand, slipping his fingers into each spot with ease. Everything fit perfectly as he pushed his feet into the greaves and the shoulder guard slipped over his left arm. Finally, the breastplate was pulled over his head and was clipped and tightened into place. He pulled Crocea Mors to his side and it slipped into its place on his belt. When he was fully armoured, he pulled the last addition to his new armour off the table and ran the material through his fingers. he turned to her mother and knelt in front of her.

A deep red sash, the same colour as Pyrrha's hair and her family bond. Gently, he wrapped it around his waist and tied it off to the side like she always had with her armour. With that in place, he turned to her mother and knelt in front of her.

From behind her, she pulled Pyrrha's shield, Akoúo̱, off a table and handed it to him slowly. Gently, carefully, he took the shield and slipped it onto his back and it clicked into place. Reaching behind her once more, she pulled the repaired blade, Miló, offered it to him. Gripping the handle with one hand and carefully holding it with his other hand, he turned it and placed the tip against the ground as he rested his forehead against the handguard, a silent prayer to his Goddess for her protection, for it is only in passing that they achieve immortality.

A pair of hands forced him to look up at Pyralis, she was kneeling down to his level and staring into his eyes. Sorrow and concern flooding her features as she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his forehead. "Trust in her, as she did you, Jaune." He nodded as he stood up slowly and slipped the blade in its place on his back, between his armour and her shield before leaning in and holding the older woman close to him. He held her gently as she clutched to him, wishing for him to stay, but knowing he needed to go.

Eventually, she released him and nodded to him. She wiped tears from her cheeks as he turned and walked away from her and towards wherever the people of Mistral needed him.

"Knight!"

He stopped and looked back at Pyralis Nikos as she took a deep breath. The fight returning to her form for one last moment.

"Return with that shield, or on it"

He nodded to her, knowing the weight of her words. The last thing she saw was her daughter's shield on his back as he left her alone in the large, empty house. Her words echoing through her mind, to either return with a victory or to die with honour. He knew that he would die one day, it was his one hope, the one thing that made him get up and march onto the field of battle every day. For his actions and deeds, that one day, he would be forgiven.