Summary: It is a norm for a Maiden's power to be transferred to an eligible female. Having a boy posses the power, while a miracle in itself, opened up a can of worms Ozpin would have preferred shut. Only time would tell whether Jaune Arc and Amber Autumn are one and the same person, or if the transfer brought consequences no one could have foreseen.
The sky was a white expanse with not a cloud in sight that seemed to be hanging low over the ground, but at the same time, looked miles away. He was ankle-deep in some kind of viscous liquid as far as he could tell. It churned about like someone had just slipped beneath its surface. He sloshed through the murky liquid in a futile gesture to escape its reach, unaware of his unwelcome tag-alone.
He was staring into the bituminous depth when a grabbing hand reached to clutch at his wrist. Jaune yelped, backing away so fast he tripped on his own feet. He hit the ground with a splash. The hand that had grabbed him disappeared back below the liquid.
What was that?
There was no reply. But he was scared enough to keep his distance yet curious enough that he had to find out what was going on.
From the ground, Jaune watched, trembling, as the rest of the thing emerged from the deep. It coalesced, multiple tendril-like whip joining. The shifting mass lurched forward, out of the pool of darkness into the white expense. Jaune got a good look, and what he saw was downright impossible. Not to mention freaky. The dark mass was receding, forming appendages. Human appendages. A newly formed neck raised a newly formed head, and on that head, the eyes blinked opened. Eyes that burnt with an intensity that was unnatural.
To his shock, the creature was a girl. Well, more of a lady. But still, he was looking at a really pretty, naked girl. For a moment, his hormones overrode his senses, then he shivered in place, letting out a shuttering burble of shock as the origin of the naked lady in question dawned on him. Frozen with fear, his mind tried to tell him he was seeing things, that none of this was possible.
The pretty — really naked — lady opened her mouth to speak, and an awful noise poured out, screeching through the air like choppy analog ringtones and static.
It felt wrong.
Jaune screamed and frantically scooted himself backward. If he had an item on him, he would have thrown it at — it? — her. The light — no, fire — in her eyes intensified, tiny sparks flitting out of her sockets. It was impossible, Jaune thought. Then again he was staring at a really pretty and really naked lady that had just climbed out from a tar-like liquid, so what did impossible really mean? He really hoped that this was all just a love child of his overactive imagination and his porn-induced fetishes. As Jaune scrambled back, flames shot out from her palms and struck the pool mere feet from him, effectively killing his hope.
He stood and ran.
Jaune was scared beyond belief. Behind him, he could see the lady down on one knee, looking up at him. Smoke rose off her frame, burning at the tar-like mass that still clung to some part. She seemed strangely accepting of the situation. He didn't know what was happening, but it seemed like she did. Or just realized it. Her expression changed into understanding then vindictive pleasure. As if she was about to play a prank, one that promised happiness to none but her.
Getting up quickly, she charged at him, picking up speed to easily maneuver through.
Jaune had always wished he'd some kind of superpower. He'd go to bed after a night of late night comic reading hoping he'd wake up with the ability to fly, run really fast, or shoot heat rays from his eyes. While flying was Jaune's first choice, anything would be fine as the naked lady was coming after him. You don't get picky when you have that kind of thing chasing you. He somehow tripped, but caught himself and used the opportunity to turn and see the lady powering up in her run. With a blast of air from her feet, she left the ground and releasing the element from both hands held to her side, she flew right at him.
Jaune ran hard with all the energy he had. Pure supercharged adrenaline and fear powered his legs, the environment making it hard for him to differentiate between directions. The girl, flames softly trailing her form, followed. It must have been her go-to element.
Jaune just barely managed to dodge another attack and somehow avoided a barrel-roll, though the attack sent him careening to the side. He got up quickly and continued his run, utilizing the last remnants of his strength to wade through the thick liquid. There was no real cover to be found anywhere he turned. It was an endless stretch of blackness. The drab landscape was unfortunately interrupted by sporadic shots of either flames or air. Thankfully, none connected with him. Whether the girl was in the air or running on land, Jaune knew he would easily be spotted. He was scared to death, but somehow managed to keep thinking straight even if he moved in a random manner.
The scary elemental lady swooped down, diving like a torpedo and hitting the ground with a slam. Exhausted, and with no energy left, he bounced and collapsed on his knees. The girl hovered over, her features blank. Jaune knelt there shivering, wondering what he had done to deserve death by the hands of a hot, naked, flying chick.
He definitely understood the irony of the situation.
"What do you want?" Jaune locked eyes with the lady as he screamed. "Why are you after me?"
There was no answer. Instead, she landed on the ground, the flames around her eyes dying. This came as no comfort to Jaune. He was still terrified, and his heart bounced around in his chest like a racquetball. With one hand she reached for him and he couldn't help becoming motionless as she grasped softly at his cheek. A hint of hesitation crossed her face, as if realizing the depth of change that could occur from her decision alone, then the moment passed. And she kissed him. There was no spark like he expected, nothing except feelings of regret, determination and vengeance.
He was simply a means to an end.
Yet he felt something within him respond. A feeling that continued to grow, faster and faster, synchronizing with the beat of his heart. It lashed beneath his skin, violently and so very painful, seeking escape. He was weak, unable to muster up the strength needed to stamp down on the sensation, and so it escaped.
The explosion would have been incredible if he was an outsider watching the events. As it was that he was the one enduring it, it was hands down the most painful experience ever. It rushed out of his skin in a ball of orange and black flames, a vigorous blast that engulfed everything but him in a blazing conflagration. Within him thundered a second explosion that, he believed, shifted something fundamental. Brilliant light raced across his skin, thankfully soothing the deep burns he felt. The smoke set Jaune into a coughing fit, but he didn't mind, his attention focused on the mysterious light healing his exposed, charred flesh.
When the smoke cleared, and his burns totally healed to his delight, Jaune looked away from it and to his surrounding, shocked to not see the girl. Was she vaporized in the explosion? He hoped not. Despite the less than stellar meeting, she was his first kiss, and that wasn't something he could forget.
Not knowing what to do, and still in shock—
Jaune sighed, the lurching of the Bullhead he was in succeeding in bringing him out of his reverie. The moment of transition was too quick, too disorientating, and if his air sickness was not oddly quelled, he would have chucked up his breakfast. Still, It wouldn't do to get lost on the train down memory lane and miss out on this opportunity to talk to people. Having decided on what to do, he stood, and with one hand covering the yawn that almost escaped, made his way over to a pair.
Maybe they would see past his apparent femininity and be his friends.
The duo he met were contrasting, each different in appearance, gender, bearing and, he suspected, mannerism. His suspicious were conceded as the nearer he got, the clearer the differences became. He had not even spoken to either of the two yet, just their conversation alone was enough to discern their natures.
"But Ren," The orange-haired whined, her lips turned down in a frown. He did not know her, but he was sure that her present countenance was a rarity. Again, he suspected that she was usually bubbly and easily excitable. Whether the excitement in question was in a sexual or non-sexual manner, he didn't know, yet. Honestly speaking, the latter was probably true.
"No Nora." The one called Ren said, a note of finality in his voice. Whatever it was that Nora wanted to do, Ren disapproved and wasn't budging from his decision. The pink-haired teen sighed, frustration leaking through that lone exhale. "You will not—"
On seeing Jaune's slowly approaching form, Ren stopped himself. He, alongside Nora who had turned to see the object of interest, looked on in confusion as he carefully stopped in front of them. His confusion quickly melting to apathy while Nora's eyes brimmed with happiness.
He called it. It was not a surprise that the two were dissimilar with their way of conveying emotions. One wore it like a sleeve, the other hid his behind a veil. Both told a story sadly familiar in a world like this; veritable products of the current system.
"Hi," Jaune heard himself say, though he knew not why he had stammered. Nervousness? Doubt? Or was it that some other deeply ingrained emotion had resurfaced… fear?
Nora was suddenly close to him, the proximity enough for him to smell the sweetness of her breath. Pancakes, maybe?
She was restrained from whatever it was she wanted to do by a hand wrapped around her waist. Ren struggled to rein her to his side, sending him what amounted to a shrug for her actions and a look he didn't understand immediately from over her shoulder.
A glance back to the eager — almost too eager — look on Nora's face and he understood the unspoken threat and reason behind it. A smile was his only response and Ren slowly nodded, acquiescing his hold on the huntress-in-training.
"Hi, my name is Nora. This is Ren," Her stance was fidgety, the balls of her feet rocking back and forth in place as she introduced her and Ren. There was no need for one since he had heard their names, but it was a formality. Plus, it wouldn't do for them to find out he had — unintentionally, due to circumstance really — eavesdropped on their conversation. Even if it wasn't much of a conversation in the first place. It was still regarded as bad etiquette, especially when first approaching strangers.
Her hands shot out to grab the boy as she said his name, his body uncomfortably pressed to her side. By the resignation in his eyes, it was a common thing and he was used to it. What did that say about their relationship? "We are together. But not together-together." She laughed at the obvious inside joke. When he didn't join in, her laughter tapered off until she stopped altogether, the atmosphere becoming awkward. Ren, for some stupid reason only known to him, remained quiet, his all-to-calm eyes peering deeply into Jaune's.
Not knowing how to respond the two stood staring at each other until, with a hand scratching at the back of his head, Jaune spoke. He felt he should take the lead, some kind of natural instinct maybe.
"I'm sorry for… the awkwardness, I guess. I'm a bit awkward so it's kinda hard for me to talk to new people. I really hope it wouldn't stop us from being friends."
The sheer happiness that radiated from Nora was shocking. Though, to be fair, despite its intensity, it didn't overshadow the relief that crossed Ren's eyes and his nod. Somehow, he knew that these two would be with him through thick and thin.
It was, simply put, the beginning of a family.
It was the day of initiation and Jaune couldn't help feeling nervous. Not because of the initiation in itself, but rather, because of the man who sat in front. Headmaster Ozpin, a renowned man of valor and other hyphenated honorifics he was too nervous to recall at the moment. The apathetical stare that was sent his way certainly didn't help subdue the feeling.
He knew not the reason for his summon though he felt it was important, the three present in the room were needed for the commencement of the initiation after all. More so the two in front of him. Whatever purpose the meeting served was important enough for them to go late.
The silence dragged on until he was more than ready to call it quits and walk away from the duo, consequences be damned, when the Headmaster finally spoke.
"I am sure you haven't forgotten our first meeting."
Even if it wasn't a question he still felt like answering. An irrational anger bubbled beneath his skin and for a brief moment, a flash really, his eyes shone with power. How could he forget the surprise visit and the bizarre private conversation that followed.
How could he forget the fact that in him was a power coveted by people? Power people have been killed for, or can kill for?
The older man continued, heedless of the anger the teen felt, or more likely, ignored it. "I told you then that the power you wield is best kept a secret—"
"Yet here I am. In the foremost Academy for Huntsmen!"
"—And your enrollment in Beacon is a means through which we can best assure your protection from those that seek to either end or use you." The Headmaster had continued undeterred, ignoring the interruption. The same couldn't be said for the Deputy; her glare could cut right through the flimsy metal affixed to his chest.
"You don't understand" Jaune replied a little too forcefully. He tried to dial it back to a more respectful tone. "I have no training. Sure before this — all this — happened, I had hoped to cheat…" he trailed off at the collective eyebrows raised in interest, then sighed. He lifted both hands to his face, covering it from view as he leaned forward on his seat almost to his knees. When he did talk, the words conveyed his defeat. "I can't fight. How am I suppose to protect myself and my team when they do come for me?"
"You are in a Huntsmen Academy, Mr. Arc."
It was Miss Goodwitch that spoke and he had to fight the embarrassment that blossomed. He could not, however, fight the blush that colored his cheeks. "Oh," he muttered. He had forgotten that little tidbit.
The headmaster continued in her place as the teen slowly rose his head, his face still red. He allowed himself a chuckle at the sight. "Regardless of their training before enrollment, part of the schedule for all years each day is a compulsory combat class, aimed at improving on their skills and abilities. In your case, it would be more rudimentary and hidden from the rest. It wouldn't do to make known your lack of training to your peers."
Jaune nodded frantically, confidence welling in his chest. With a lot of practice and time, give or take six to eight months, he would be on the level of most enlisters. That should give him the required skills to survive any altercation at least. He had no hope of winning, regardless of the powers he now commanded. Fighting with no weapon is better than utilizing a blade you can't wield.
The Headmaster, pleased by the change in his countenance, straightened out, his demeanor taking on a more serious approach as his eyes narrowed slightly. The difference was noticed immediately by the teen and he unconsciously sat up straighter.
"Now, following our previous discussion, I would prefer if you were quiet about your recent discovery to your future team. It wouldn't be fair to them if they were to be taken as leverages because you couldn't keep the origin of your powers a secret. And, if I am not mistaken, Semblances are usually one — though in rare cases may be two — so it will be in your best interest to pick among the elements you now manipulate, two, that would aid in your survival. That is until you are properly trained in other areas of combat."
Jaune nodded in understanding. It was a thought for later consideration; he was not in a hurry to master the elements.
"You have till the initiation to ponder on it. I advise you to pick quickly so you won't be helpless against the creatures of Grimm. On the topic of Grimm, there is something else I would like to discuss with you, but that would be after the initiation."
Taking that as a sign of the meeting having ended, Jaune stood, and with a parting nod, made for the elevator.
"Before I forget, Mr. Arc. The initiation takes place on the cliff. Be swift, you don't want to miss it."
A press of the button once he had entered and he descended down the tower, nearer to the event that would determine his placement. As he was conveyed to the ground floor, he couldn't help but remember his first meeting with Ozpin...
H. Ross Caramelo was far too annoyed to even look at Jaune. The psychologist stood facing away from him, staring out his office window with his hands clasped behind his back.
"Let me get this straight," Caramelo began. "A girl came out from a pool of tar… naked… and kissed you, causing an explosion that vaporized her and your clothes… in your dreams. Do I have that right? That's your story?"
Jaune was sitting on the other side of an enormous oak desk. His parents stood behind him, supportive hands on his shoulders. "I said tar-like substance, sir," he replied meekly. "I don't know what exactly it was. And I'm pretty sure she was a lady."
Caramelo sunk into his desk chair with a heavy sigh, all humor gone. He was a grim older man with a serious face, a crooked nose, and fiery black eyes. There was an urban legend floating around that he had only smiled four times in his entire lifetime. This was not one of those times. Caramelo's intense eyes were closed and he rubbed his temples. The whole ordeal gave him a headache.
"This situation is worse than I thought," he said at last.
After he had woken up, he had thought it a bright idea to tell his parents a summary of his dream. He thought they would believe him and maybe together figure out what it had meant. They had believed him alright, believed him to be unbalanced. They didn't use that word, but one could see in their facial expression the need, and want, to pronounce him unhinged. He had stopped his story, but it was too late. They had all but shoved him in the family car and away they went to the psychologist.
"Basically, what you're telling me is that either you are a liar, or you are, in fact, mentally ill," Caramelo stated.
That was what his parents were afraid of… the mentally ill part. But he wasn't. He wasn't either of the aforementioned options. Was his story that unbelievable?
"Or I'm telling the truth," Jaune offered as an alternative.
Caramelo hummed. "I can't say I'm surprised, I suppose. This isn't the first time you are brought in my office as a result of your overactive imagination. Nicholas, I recall warning you against encouraging his love for comic books. It is your fault that he is delusional."
"What have comic books got to do with anything?" Jaune asked, coming in defense of his dad. It wasn't his fault. It wasn't anyone's fault.
"This," Caramelo began, "is the exact reason I advised against that type of subversive material in the first place. Naked girls? Flaming eyes? Your brain has been bent by impertinent pulp. Clearly, you can no longer tell the difference between reality and hormone-driven fantasy!"
"I wasn't horny!"
Jaune's cheeks burned. He didn't need to look at his parents to feel their embarrassment. It stifled the atmosphere.
"I got burnt, during the explosion. You should have seen the deep burns!"
This got his parent's attention. The psychologist, however, dismissed the words with a wave of his hand. "And where are the burns?"
"They were healed," Jaune thought about that for a moment. "This white light covered the entirety of my body and when it cleared, the burns were gone. As if they were never there."
"Don't be ridiculous, son. You can't unlock aura in dreams." Even as his father said this, he didn't look like he believed his own words.
Jaune thought that logic sounded… well, illogical. "How do you know? Just because it hasn't been done doesn't mean it isn't possible."
Caramelo frowned.
"Jaune, I am trying to help you. And I can't do that if you don't tell me the truth about what actually happened, or I will have to assume you suffered some kind of psychotic break." He said. "Is this about a girl? Are you sexually attracted to anyone at your school? It might be that you mistaking a wet dream for some kind of action flick."
Jaune felt trapped. It seemed the truth wasn't getting him anywhere. He stuck to his story, adding, "you're not even listening to me. You never do. That's the problem with this place. You treat me like I am a child." Jaune knew he was just digging himself into a deep hole with his parents, but he couldn't bring himself to care at the moment. He was angry and confused at the event that had occurred in his dream the night before.
Caramelo issued a noise that was one part sigh, the other part grumble. "Don't you get tired of coming here?" Caramelo asked. "Honestly, Jaune, why can't you just be more like other children who don't let their imagination control them. For gods' sake you are 17. Act your age."
Jaune slumped down in his chair with a sad look. "I…" he trailed off, following the hand that had squeezed his shoulder to the angry visage of his mum. He instinctively flinched. Thankfully, the anger wasn't directed at him, it was fixed on the rapidly sweating form of Caramelo.
His mum had that effect on people.
"It looks like we are done with the appointment, Ross?"
"You still have about—"
"Right, Ross?"
"Right. Have a good day, Jaune. You too, Nicholas… Jeanne."
That was the end of his appointment with his family psychologist (don't ask) and probably the end of whatever connection he had with the Arc family.
His family didn't like bullies. More so when Jaune was the bullied.
The ride back home was quiet, punctuated only by soft groans and gasp as his dad swerved and maneuvered around various obstacles and turns. On reaching the family home, aptly named the Arc Manor, the car was carefully parked in the garage. They alighted from the vehicle, and with his head down, Jaune entered his home with a turn of the knob and quickly climbed up the stairs to his room. His sister's concerned calls were ignored. His door slammed shut and his bed dipped as he threw himself on it.
He couldn't forget those words: …why can't you just be like other children…
That was one question he knew he would never get an answer to.
. . .
He was awoken by a knock on his door. Groggily, he stood and made his way to it.
"Mum and dad calls for you. Apparently someone asked of you."
Jaune's eyes widened. He gently pushed past his littlest sister, Amber, though not before ruffling her hair to her annoyance, and lumbered downstairs. He looked in surprise at the man that sat conversing with his parents. He had an air of deep mystery that commanded reverence. He was a tall, handsome man of unknown age with short sliver hair. Jaune has never seen him around Ansel before, although he felt he knew him from somewhere. Maybe he had appeared on TV before.
"Mr. Arc, nice of you to join us."
"Hello, Mr…" Jaune didn't know his name and thankfully, the man wasn't annoyed by that. Rather, he chuckled to himself.
His father was the one to supply the name, and the accompanying title. "He's Ozpin, Headmaster of Beacon Academy."
Beacon Academy — Vale's premiere Huntsmen academy. That Beacon? And the man was the Headmaster? Jaune suddenly felt so stupid. A thought crossed his mind. Why was someone important looking for him?
As if sensing his question, the man — Headmaster Ozpin — turned to him, a gleam he realized was interest in his eyes. He didn't know how that made him feel.
"I would prefer if we have a personal conversation,"
"Why?" The question slipped out unbidden.
"It's about the events that played out in your recent dream… and the changes brought forth as a result of it."
. . .
The Headmaster sat reclining on one of the many patio chairs. A plate was placed on the table separating the other chair — the mug that was meant to rest on it in the older man's grasp — on which Jaune sat from his.
"I have already spoken with your parents regarding the matter, but to ensure the safety of everyone close to you, do not divulge what I am about to tell you."
"Oh… okay."
What weight did the secret hold that made its disclosure something frowned upon? Why was he being told something obviously important, and what relation did it have to his dream?
Well, he was about to find out.
"Before that, in as much detail as possible, a first hand account of the events in question."
After a recounting of course.
The Headmaster listened to Jaune's entire story and didn't question a thing. He neither called him a liar nor crazy. Instead, he told Jaune that he'd showed courage in the face of an unknown. He believed Jaune. He certainly didn't expect that from somebody with a highly coveted position in Vale.
"That is quite a story, and it seems my assumptions are true. Mr. Arc, are you familiar with the 'Tale of the Four Seasons'?"
Jaune blinked. "The popular children's fairytale? Yeah. I have read it before. Why? Is it important somehow?"
"Very important. Allow me to be frank with you. If I'm right, and I'm rarely wrong, you possess the powers of one of the maidens."
Jaune was rightfully baffled. "They are just stories. With all due respect sir, you can't expect me to believe a naked girl gifted me mythical powers in my dreams."
"Yes, I believe it won't be an easy pill to swallow. But you should know that all myths, no matter how far-fetched it may seem, have a grain of truth in it. However embellished they may be."
"But still," Jaune sputtered as his eyes widened "aren't they all girls?"
"Yes, the ability is exclusive to females only. And even then, only those that have retained their virginity are eligible."
Jaune looked back at the Headmaster like he was a few scoops short of a sundae. "Do I look like a maiden to you?"
"No," Headmaster Ozpin replied. "While your feminine attributes outweigh your masculine ones, I am quite sure you are male." The older man thought for a moment, a sardonic grin appearing at the edges of his lips. "Or is there anything you want to tell me?"
"What?! No!"
"Then, we have a course for celebration. For long, I have tried — and failed — to figure out a way to allow men to wield the powers of the Seasons. But, somehow, in an odd twist of Fate, you Jaune Arc are gifted the power. I don't know what the gods are thinking — if they are — but I have learnt to accept things as they come. I believe everything happens for a reason. My only hope is for you to use the power for the greater good, which can only happen with proper guidance. On that note, because of your… unique circumstance, I am offering you a place in Beacon Academy..."
The elevator dinged and the door opened. Jaune walked out, shaking his head to dislodge the thoughts of the first meeting out of his mind. He needed to concentrate; most of the enlisters had already rushed to Cliff and he still had to look for his locker.
What number was it again?
He made his way past rows of locker, counting up from six hundred until he stood in front of his. Locker 636. Unlocking it, he withdrew his family's ancestral sword, Crocea Mors and its mecha-Sheath. He sheathed the blade and hung it on the belt wrapped around his waist. With a final pat down, he ran as fast as he could to the cliff, hoping he wasn't late.
Fortunately, he wasn't. Barely making it in time, he got up on a platform beside a white-haired girl who practically seethed at his apparent lateness.
"Next time, do not make those that deserve this opportunity wait." She hissed.
Jaune flinched. Then sighed. It wouldn't do to dwell on the girl's word even if he could read between the lines and understood the hidden meaning. He sincerely hoped she was wrong and there won't be a next time.
The Headmaster and his Deputy informed them on their mission and its criteria and before he knew it, one by one, they were sent hurling into the forest below. Courtesy of the structure beneath their feet.
The person to his immediate left was sent flying and he knew that if he doesn't say what he wanted to say, he wouldn't get the chance again until the initiation was over. He turned to the white-haired girl, mentally preparing himself as the platform sank, and said in all the confidence he could muster, "I deserve this opportunity."
He didn't see the shock that had crossed her features as the platform rose forcefully, sending him up and away. Jaune's time was better spent trying to figure out a way for him to not go splat on the forest floor. He did the only thing he could do as he reached the apex of his flight. He screamed.
Jaune's head suddenly snapped to the left. He threw out his arms, but his world spun impossibly and he knew that he was in trouble. Something had hit him. Something with the force of a sledgehammer. Something like a spear.
He felt himself dip, but he wasn't sure if he was falling faster or if he was losing consciousness. Something was horribly wrong with his head. He roughly crashed through branches, landing hard on his back, in a pillow of black that swallowed his mind whole.
. . .
Jaune's eyes snapped open. He blinked and tried to remember where he was. Who he was. But all he could remember was… nothing.
That was a cause for alarm.
He knew his name, his history, but for a moment — a gut-wrenching moment — his mind came up blank. What had happened after he had blacked out? He felt as if he'd just had a dream and the details were slipping through his fingers, like sand.
"…une."
He closed his eyes and tried to recollect. Through disconcerted images, he could remember running from things that wanted to hurt him. He had escaped like a spider up a tree after killing one of the things. Then he'd stared out at the sun. A sight he thought he would never see again(?). Now he was awake. And he wasn't any nearer understanding what had happened, and why.
"Jau…"
He looked around him, taken aback at the number of faces that stared at him. His confusion grew. Wasn't he just in the forest? What about the initiation? Has it ended, and why wasn't he informed of it?
Or was he?
He looked to the girl who stood in front of him, her lithe hands held threateningly near his face. He back-peddled. "Wha…?"
"Finally. For a second I had presumed you had fainted on your feet. The Headmaster had called us, but due to your… lack of awareness, we had to wait until the other teams were formed. The rest of our team awaits us on the podium. Let's go."
He was dimly aware of the hand that grabbed his and pulled, but for the love of him, he could not remember partnering with her. The initiation itself was a mystery to Jaune.
He sighed. Was this another question that wouldn't be answer. If it wasn't, how long would it take for the answer to be made known to him? And what would he have to lose?