"Confidence."
It was always a question that came across his mind and his dreams,
An inspiration,
A desire.
To raise a pure blade and strike it down in the name of justice, to do what was right and stray from doing the wrong. There was truly no telling what was ever on this child's mind when it came to it. However, fate had once said that a warrior's path is set for them once it's been carved and created. He wanted to be a hero to those who only sought for 'good'. Perhaps it was an absurd goal of life to attain. Many would say otherwise. Yet, the blonde child that stands before the world now is simply being patient… it is a desire to be strong.
One particular blonde found himself floating in the abyss, the light that seeps through the watery surface miles above him just managing to barely reach his depth. It was half-lidded, tired eyes that stared upon the toothy sheep of a smile that was exchanged to him. A much taller individual that donned the whitest of armor, blonde and a shadow over their eyes. To their side, a sword with two golden crescent moons.
"… Endure the exiles; and bring forth all legends."
The distorted voice said, the stranger's lips unmoving. Jaune blinks at the foreign individual infront of him, and questioned the environment that he suddenly found himself in. Everything felt so… weird. Yet, the unknown individual extends his hand outwards to the child, as if requesting the little boy to come with him. The boy stares into the shadows of what would've been the man's eyes, and he was overwhelmed with a sense of… sadness? Anger? Jealousy? Jaune couldn't put a finger on it.
"Bear the pain; and you will still survive."
There it was again, as if it was coming from all around him. That gloved hand was still extended to him. Jaune's hand rose subconsciously, resting it unto the enigma's palm. Came forth the faint glow of golden light that faded into the darkness eventually. Jaune felt this feeling before, but didn't know when exactly. It felt so familiar and warm, a cold that never existed standing right with him. To see the images of foreign enigmas. The flashes of memories and faces would fill his mind, only lasting for the greatest of a second until transitioning. Someone in jade, another themed with a lightning bolted hammer. A spear that stood broken into three, right next to a circular shield that remained dusted and grimed on the ground.
A foot-worth of a curved blade was sunk into the ground of somewhere, red metal plates around said curved blade. A jagged end met on the other side, a clear indication that it was broken off from it's main root.
Jaune stands in the center of one million blades stabbed into a barrow field of stones and dirt. Skies remained ashy and darkly clouded. Banners of hundreds scattered throughout the lands. Torn, tattered or snapped. Without hint as to who these banners had belonged to whom and weapons that have lost their owners since, there had only stood two blades that remained crossed over one another perfectly at the very top of a hill. One that Jaune had looked up to, his arm elevating as if he were trying to reach for both those blades from afar. The clouds slightly disperse, laying the light upon the blackened blade with a crimson hilt in contrast to it's opposite, the white sword of a dark cobalt hilt.
These blades have fought one another before, and fought side by side before. They told him that. Whoever 'they' is. There had been the enigma once more in white shining armor—standing by the white broadsword that never saw the light like the black edged did. A hand rests upon the blue hilt as the enigma smiled… painfully. As if it were a blade full of remorse and only gave pain for everything it's done. A sin.
"Our means of hope; it is to share."
The millions of swords are replaced in the blink of an eye.
They're replaced with endless hordes of Grimm that surrounded Jaune, the crossed blades and the enigma. Yet they've kept their space and never seemed to take a single step towards either of them.
Jaune squints his eyes at the blades again. The dark broadsword now held a white chrome glow around it's shape. The other twin; baked in rivers of blood travelling from the top all the way to the tip that was sunken into the ground. There was no aura around it, it's edges were long chipped and worn. Rust built upon it's sides and dirt stuck to it's hilt. However, the one who was willing to hold that weapon didn't mind. They continued to smile down towards an aged blade for who knows how long?
"Dream. Because you can dream." The voice had told the blonde child, who looked up to the older one. Lips never moved, only the tension of a moment.
"All of us have dreams." The white-armored individual at the top of that hill suddenly began to fade slowly. Only to gradually reappear, but donned with a fur-collared black longcoat. Long, blonde hair that was lined with blood from countless wars that were never told. "You want to be something that I could never be. No matter how different you are from everyone within the world, continue. To have a dream, you earn the right to atleast try becoming it… and what you want to be is…"
The blonde pondered on about those following words, seeing the reality around him distort as if everything here was a digital simulation of what he could perceive it to actually be. Black silhouettes of humanoid characters filled the area inbetween the gap of Grimm formations. None willing to attack, only to occupy space. In another distortion of sight, flames spread across the land.
Pillars of smoke ashen the sky even more. The storm accompanied with torrents of sand blow by. Corpses and skeletons laid about from burning or destroyed homes. It was with a shaky breath that the child drew as he clenches his fists and looks down. Asking the ground mentally for answers.
The enigma turns his head, a smirk across his face. In the next second, the white blade would plunge itself into the ground beside Jaune. Producing a head raise from the blonde child and a questionable look. The cloaked blonde enigma gave a shrug, turning his body fully to face the child and warmly pockets his hands away.
"What you want to be is who you want to be. That's not for me to decide. But between you and I, I'm merely an Exiled. You, on the other hand, will stand an Arc, or maybe you'll be a hope. Your heart—which is here as we speak—is haunted by this. Not just you. So I'll ask this…"
The aged weapon standing beside Jaune cracks…
Athena picked at her own wings when Jaune sat next to his window, staring out of the second floor and enjoying the view of a snow-felled nature. It had already been winter; the blonde wearing a casual Pumpkin Pete's inspired sweater and jeans. Curled up into a ball. As his ocean blue orbs examine the life out there, there's a rap of knocking against his door. Cueing Jaune to eye the source, he found his mother standing idly by the doorway with a glass of milk and a plate of cookies, a warm smile across her face as she steps into his room.
"Jaune, sweetie, why don't you eat?" His mother settles down next to him to also gaze upon the view, also setting the food between them on the open space, "Ah… it is quite beautiful out there." She claimed when seeing the night of a shattered moon and snow building mounds or over trees that have long since lost it's leaves.
"I'm not really hungry, mom, but thanks." Jaune curled more tightly into his current form. His mother perks a brow skeptically.
"I know you're never full for cookies and milk, especially in winter," A chuckle slipped from the woman's lips, "Come on, big guy. You wanted to build a snow castle and have a snow ball fight with everyone, didn't you? Be happy, smile." His mom said, scooting close to him and wrapping one arm over his shoulder to bring him into the loving hug.
"Moooooom…" The blonde groaned, but didn't put up much of an effort to escape her hold, "I really don't want any…"
… Talk about picky.
His stomach growls. His mother giving off a victorious smirk towards her son. Jaune sighs. Poor old Jaune sighs.
"Well, you're eating." His mom plainly put, leaving Jaune to stare at the cookies and milk. It took a minute before he started to chip away at the cookies and sip at the glass. Athena watched from her makeshift stand, golden irises casted upon the two as it tilts it's head.
"Mom?"
"Yes?" She tucks her son's head closer to her shoulder, letting her chin rest over his into a warm snuggle, "What is it, Jaune?"
"… I want to be like dad one day."
A thought ticks within her mind as she contemplated it, "Is that so? You know you're already training to be a hunter. He's one too."
"I know, but… dad's super strong, and he's like this famous hero everyone knows about. He can save people, can go around and do miracles. Me?" Jaune lowered his head dejectedly, "All I can do is put on a sweater to keep me warm inside my own house while it snows outside…"
He felt his cheeks being pinched.
"Ow! Mom!"
"Don't you ever say that." The motherly woman had said with her eyes continuing to gaze out the window, frowning, "… Not everyone can become a hero. It's filled with people who will see them doing evil, sometimes good. You will be strong one day. Stronger than me and him."
Jaune blinks, taken aback from his mom's sudden change and looked up, semi-nuzzling himself against her side, "… You mean it, mom?"
"Hah," She chuckles lightly, comforting herself by nuzzling her nose against his, "I know so. You have to have confidence, Jaune. Confidence in yourself." His mom started to get up slowly so she wouldn't straight-up dropped him onto the ground, "Now get yourself ready for bed in an hour. You may be on break, but you still need your sleep!"
He glances to his clock and then the leftover cookies.
Then groans.
The white-armored man leaning against the wall just outside his door with crossed arms gave a light frown, only to softly smirk shortly after. Taking his leave afterward.
"Still staring at that sword, Jaune?" Asked his father, who was just about out the door with his sword and armor on his persona. A golden scarf wrapped around his neck for warmth.
"Yeah, seeing if there's going to be any dust on it soon or something." Jaune turned around and walked after his father, who had opened the door all the way to let the cold in briefly.
The two were heading out on a trip to Jugunges falls, which was practically next to the plains. Jaune volunteered to help out his father gather some materials that the town needed while his mom waited for the rest of the family to come in. While out, Jaune was kind of hoping to atleast find some 'original gifts' to get his sisters.
"—before you think about it, no, I'm sure your sisters wouldn't want acorn seeds as a Christmas gift." His father intruded in on his mind.
"Eh?" Jaune's head coils back slightly as they walked out of the town's bordering fence-line, "I-I wasn't thinking that just now…"
"… Jaune." His father pokerfaced.
"Alright fine, I did. They loved it last time though!"
"That was… until they had their houses raided by squirrel-like Grimm."
The blonde child tried to think that through briefly, and the only memory of that was the sounds of girlish screaming and glass shattering within some distant house. He brought his attention back to reality shortly afterward, "Oops?"
His father sighed, shaking his head and grinning. He did find that amusing in the end of all of it.
They took a quick stop within the Jugunges forest to scavenge what they could from the trees, which usually stored in winter sap reserves that trees kept or finding old seeds that could potentially branch off new and livelier forestry in the future.
"You know, this forest reminds me of a lot."
"Really? How so?" The knight's son had asked, leaving the knight to scratch his chin and attempt a memory recall.
Jaune merely continued with scavenging things, having found a shard of what looked to be bone that belonged… to… well, some kind of Grimm. All he could get off it was strange red markings and one side of it that looked like it was broken off from a larger piece of what it originally was. As he brushed off the snow on it, his father continued with his story.
"I had actually fought a really strong individual once," He went on, picking up a red and white crystal randomly laying on the ground and perked a brow in utter confusion, "What the-?" Toss. "He was pretty skilled in how he fought, and I'd like to think he was wiser than me in the end."
"Was?"
He donned a pained expression momentarily, "… Was. But that's something to talk about later, but what I can spare to you is that he gave me the sword, thinking that I was the right owner of it."
Jaune looked over his shoulder to see the red-hilted blade strapped to his father's hip, "You mean that one?"
"Hm?" The knight glanced down to his side and shook his head, "No, actually. It's the sword you saw on our wall—you know, the one you apparently keep staring at?" His father smirked, hiding a chuckle being his tone.
Jaune blinked several times until it clicked in. "Oh."
The hero stood up, dusting himself off of snow and traversed deeper into the forest, "Come on, the place of where we fought isn't actually that far from here. Get Athena here."
His curiosity drawn in almost instantly, Jaune followed after his father with a light jog, feet digging into the snow. Jaune whistled briefly and readjusted the leather shouldering he wore, allowing a particular type of companion to settle onto the blonde's shoulder and glare on forward. A worm in it's mouth.
"Wha—ew, Athena, no, swallow that, right now."
It glares at him.
"What?"
Glare.
"Please?"
Gulp.
"Ah, here we are."
Jaune gazes out into the almost endless horizon of just plain snow. In the distance, a mountain split straight down the middle, making two tips and almost perfectly aligned with the shattered moon above.
"It looks really good to fight at, I mean, there's practically nothing blocking your way here!" His dad nods, "Nice observation."
The knight's vermillion gaze never having left the mountains, losing focus of his surroundings.
"Dad?" He waved a hand infront of the knight, "Dad!"
"Huh? Oh, sorry. Let's go into the plains, there's something near the mountainside I want you to see."
Jaune blinked. Finding it strange that his father would just randomly zone out like that and tagged alongside the armored individual. Accompanying him all the way to the area his father wanted to bring him to.
In the midst of their journeying, Jaune felt something… weird. As if something was calling his name. The blonde spared a moment of his time to see what it was, but only saw a rusted katana stabbed into some pile of rocks that was covered in layers of snow. With an uneasy mental shrug, Jaune continued after his father when the two eventually came to a stop infront of a running river that ran from a waterfall coming down the side of the mountain.
"Woah." His eyes trained on the strange azure-glittering glow that shone within the water itself. Fish with scales like jewels and a mist that felt rather warm in contrast to the cold of winter.
"It's nice to take a swim here, even in Summer. You'd think it'd be warm like it is now, but the water within the mountain adjusts itself seasonally so it'd be the opposite temperature from it, making it perfect." His father withdrew a hunting knife from his side, kneeling down by the waterside and hovering his hand over it, "… it's rare to have places like these that aren't surrounded by people wanting to own it like property or surrounding by tourists with selfishness and consumed by greed."
With a cut made across his palm now, Jaune winced at the sight of his father cutting himself. Only to notice that the wound was suddenly gone by the time his father lowered his hand into the water and brought it back up, "How did you..?"
"The water, Jaune. Take a sip from it." His father commanded him to do with a soft tone, placing away the knife. Jaune did as he was told, feeling suddenly lighter than he was before. Feeling more rejuvenated than he's ever been, "Woah."
"You're right for going 'woah' at this," The knight would laugh and stand back up. Their attention briefly spared to examine the soon-to-be storming skies, "Alright, time for us to head back soon. We gotta make sure your mother isn't overworking herself in making the Christmas feast again."
"…"
"Jaune?" His dad looked over his shoulder to see the blonde child, perking a brow, "Something wrong?" Jaune never returned the look, his sight trained upon the waterfall as Jaune narrows his eyes.
"There's… something behind there." The wanna-be-knight said hushly, pointing towards the waterfall itself. The knight donned an expression of confusion. Trailing towards the direction of where Jaune was pointing. Having given a moment to think, the knight blinked and looked back to Jaune, "… That… I'm surprised you've figured out already, but there's—"
He was interrupted by the sudden tremor, perking his head up and staring in the direction of the town, "… what?" The knight narrowed his eyes and clenched his fists, "Jaune. We're leaving. Now!"
Jaune had also turned to see the source of the tremor, only to see the bright amber hue flickering from around the town itself. He spared a glance to Athena, who took the sign to fly off towards their home. The two sprinted there shortly after.
… and the winds begin to howl loudly as the oncoming storm approaches.
Fire. That is what he first saw when getting near. The storm that brought down the snow of hell offered resistance against his movements, hindering his sight as the storm brought up a fog. Just when they were nearly out of the forest, his father would stop and catch his breath as he tried to examine the events that were transpiring. From where they were, there wasn't that much of a clearer view. The storm was hindering almost everything, like an obstacle from seeing occurrences.
"Jaune, it's much too dangerous. I want you to stay here for now." He places his scroll within Jaune's hands, leaving Jaune to look up and frown, "… I know that you want to come with me." The knight offered a light smile. Placing a hand over Jaune's head and ruffled his hand through it.
"Take this, mom will come looking for you along with the others. Don't worry, I'll be fine. Be confident that I'll come back." His father looked on ahead before sprinting off, drawing his black-edged sword and entering the fog. All Jaune could hear was the sounds of roaring and breaking in the distance, other than the winds that howled into his hearing.
… and in all this, Jaune felt just as powerless to do anything here. He took one good look at his hand and felt a weakness that overwhelmed his body, the wooden sword strapped to his side, the wooden shield was to his back.
He gritted his teeth in utter anger within himself. Clenching his fists and taking a hesitant step forward.
'He said he was going to come back…'
Jaune could never know that for sure.
'I just need to be confident that he's going to come back.'
Jaune didn't want to leave him on his own.
'… Dad always comes back.'
Jaune ran forward despite his father's orders. The scroll within one hand, a wooden sword drawn in the other. He felt the heat that was emanating from the town, and the moment he got into perfect view of what was going on, flames consumed the houses. Trash and marks of conflict were spotted all around the ground and walls. Light posts were bent off from standing. Windows were shattered.
The blonde rose a hand to his mouth, smelling the stench that came forward, stomach acid rising from his stomach. He managed to swallow it back down before staggering forward, his eyes widened with fear, arms shaking.
He could hear the sounds of screaming of men and women, howls of Grimm, and flickering fire that remained alive throughout the snowstorm. Not one person has he seen alive yet.
As Jaune made his way towards the center of the town, he tripped, his foot hitting something nearly hard when feeling something splash beneath him. Slowly getting up and seeing what he ended up tripping on, he saw the corpse of a familiar woman who laid there with eyes just as wide as his, three cuts diagonally spread across their face and chest.
"… Eleanor?"
He said with a shaky whisper, feeling for his cheek. Wet and thick. His hand lowered down as he examined his own hand.
Red.
Jaune fell back onto his hind, screaming loudly as he gazed upon Eleanor. Wanting to reject the thought of someone dying, he nearly felt himself completely pass out. From behind him, the wall of a house had torn down to reveal the flames burning everything to cinders within. Hearing that of a low growl directly behind him, Jaune's head slowly turned to see the black-bodied werewolf standing there menacingly.
Tears had rivered down his eyes, his lips quivering and numb from the touch of frost. Blood spread across his face and semi-smeared…
The Beowolf stared at him, as if wanting something. After the next minute had passed between their eye-contact, the Grimm rose it's arm… and brought it's claw down upon Jaune.
"What do you want to be?"
Jaune's eyes remained shut, an arm covering his head. It was until the point that the attack had never connected with him, opening his eyes and remaining shocked to the familiar sword that negated the claw from completely touching him.
"… Don't touch my son, swine."
The Beowolf attempted to look up, but was denied that right by a fist that smashed into it's face and sent it staggering backwards. A second of a white line appearing across it's chest. A black mist spurred from the Grimm's chest, causing it to roar and claw at it's wounded chest prior to it's head came topping off it's shoulders and meeting the ground, dissipating into dust.
"… Dad?"
Jaune brought himself to faintly grin and turn, only to stop and have his jaw drop at the sight.
His father was knelt infront of him, the sword risen just over Jaune's shoulder to defend him from earlier. The other arm was used to have a hand cover a hole located in the knight's side, a white aura seeping from the outlines of it but failed to heal completely. Blood pooled out from the knight's mouth, forehead, arms, almost every part of their body. A giant gaping hole was found within his chest, made right through the armor they had worn.
"Dad!" Jaune screamed, getting onto his knees and attempting to help his father up with no luck. Their eyes were almost lifeless to Jaune.
"It's okay, Jaune…" They let out with a huff, chuckling painfully, "I had this coming… I knew that this day would come."
"Dad? What are you talking about?! We need to get you some help!"
"… You need… to know something, Jaune…"
"Stop, stop talking! Save your breath!" Jaune put down his wooden sword fumbled with the scroll, having a difficult time even pressing any buttons from his fingers being numb, "I… I need to get the doctors! They'll know how to heal—"
"They're… dead." His father intruded with, standing up slowly as blood pooled onto the ground. Jaune couldn't believe what he was seeing. His father was on the verge of death, and yet he still wants to try and move?!
"… besides, I made… a promise with you, didn't I..?"
The blonde stood up and stared at his father, then to the Grimm that was slowly beginning to claim the area around them. Completely surrounding the two. He remembered those words…
'I promised someone…'
His father rushed forward, the black blade slicing the air and decimating a boarbatusk standing in his way before a beowolf came up from behind and cut him across the back. Grunting loudly and battle-crying, the knight turned around, hair lined with blood and face struck with scars and desperation.
Jaune stood by, once again, powerless. A recall of what was said before only occupying his mind as he watched his father fight to the end.
'I promised someone that I would help them reach their dream,'
The knight crashed into a nearby carriage, head risen slightly up and one eye closed, the other being obstructed by his own blood. A Beowulf attempted to pierce him right through the head, only to have the flat-side of a sword prevent it from doing so. Quickly moving, he cut the Grimm's arm off and stepped forward, following it's head right then.
He staggered, his leg failing to let him stand straight as he tried to pull himself together and glared at his foes. Hundreds of those who hated all of Humanity and the like.
'… and you should know me when it comes to promises.'
As blue orbs set sight upon the chaotic environment around him, Jaune gritted his teeth. A blade could save people, but it could also kill people. He was training for this, wasn't he? To becoming just like he was? That phrase continued to get him. Jaune's heart was pounding against the cage of his chest, as if at any moment it were bound to explode.
But came determination.
"… I want to be…"
The knight stood still and breathed with all of his life, slightly tipping over on one leg as his form slouched. As the Grimm rushed forward, the front lines of them jumped simultaneously, completely jumping him from all sides as he stood there. In the midst of their jump, it felt as if time was slowing down for Jaune. The knight—his father—turning his head and giving Jaune one more sheepish grin as claws aimed to end his life from there.
Mouthing words, words that could not be heard verbally by how strong they were to Jaune.
Jaune's irises reducing to the size of dots by that point. His mouth left slightly open. The snowstorm's cold, harsh winds pushing against every part of his body.
'I'm glad to have been your father.'
The child softly exhaled, the winds dying, and time pausing. The enigma stood idly by with the same sheepish grin as the light swam over them. The blackened sword losing it's crimson outline. Lines of darker emerald stretch across his vision, taking the land, claiming every individual and object there was. Overlapping the houses, the fire, even the smoke and clouds.
"… No." Jaune gritted his teeth, his words having said lowly and menacingly. Raising his head slightly, the glaring of an azure iris threatened all who dared to live and stand before him. As he stepped forward, the pulsation of a golden aura spreaded outwards, shoving all things back. The Grimm, entire houses, his father as well, pushing his father simply off to the side as they hit the ground with a grunt.
A hand was clenched into a fist. A spark of white releasing from the very grip he made as it bursts into form.
… a sword mounted upon the wall of a certain house began to crack entirely.
Jaune's hand clenches around the hilt of Crocea Mors, the sword being completely encased in cracks. A white light consumed the weapon, filling in the cracks and veins within.
As the glinting of a white-headed, blue-hilted weapon comes to existence within his hand, the snowstorm suddenly slows as if being threatened to halt upon superior power.
This world has become his playing field.
"A Hero."
