A/N: Hello and welcome to chapter 2! Last off, Jaune made a new friend who shares the same grief at losing Oakvale and we met Maze. Now it's time for the training to begin. The training of a Hero.

From The Smallest Acorn

Summary: Jaune was nothing more than a simple farm boy, yet one terrible night shatters his view on the world and he finds out that his destiny is something much greater: becoming the greatest Hero to ever walk the soil of Albion.

*A New Life*

Jaune didn't know when he had fallen asleep last night, but it definitely wasn't for very long. He was jolted awake by the sound of someone kicking his bed and he jolted up with a yelp, finding himself in an unfamiliar room. It was filled with bookshelves and other spare beds, and he rubbed his eyes with a soft yawn. Father's going to be mad I slept in.

The blond boy went to slip on his shoes when it all came crashing back to him. He could remember the bandit raid and the smell of smoke and charred flesh still lingered in his nostrils. Father...

A pair of fat tears rolled down his cheeks and he sniffled, looking at the boy who he was sharing a room with. He wasn't much taller than him; maybe an inch or two separated them from height. However, it was clear that he had spent two years at the Heroes Guild. Lean muscle was developing in his arms and legs, and he offered the blond boy a hand. "Hey. Sorry about that, but we have to get going. Otherwise, Maze will have us both spending time in the kitchens."

Jaune's stomach growled at the mention of food and the boy reached around in his pockets before fishing out a green apple. "Here; I snuck one out last night. You look like you need to eat."

Jaune stared at it, wiping his face and reaching for it cautiously. He bit into it and hummed. "Qrow, right?"

"Yep." Qrow sat down next to him and flung an arm around his shoulders. "You're scared, I know, but this is the safest place in the land. Bandit scum like the ones who attacked Oakvale won't dare try and come here."

"Why?" Jaune asked quietly, taking another bite out of his apple.

"You don't know much about the Guild, do you?"

The blond shook his head.

"Right. Got to remember that last night was probably the first time you've ever heard of it." Qrow sighed. "To put it short, everyone here is either training to become a Hero or is one. Heroes keep Albion safe from the threats outside the Guild's walls. We are sort of like a town guard, except we can use magic unlike normal people."

"Qrow!" Another boy, this one with unkempt white hair and a pair of glasses on his face, poked his head into the room. He wore a green scarf around his neck and a black tunic over dark green trousers. "The Guildmaster is looking for you! He's down in the courtyard, by the archery range."

"I'll be there in a second, Oz." Qrow rolled his eyes. "Just filling the newcomer here on some of the basics."

"Newcomer?" The white-haired boy's eyes roamed up and down Jaune's body and he gave him a friendly smile, like an older brother would. "Hello there. I'm Ozpin. Please endeavor to make sure Qrow over there doesn't try to steal any more food. One of the cooks down in the kitchens is ranting and raving about a missing turkey."

Qrow let out a nervous chuckle as Jaune turned to stare at him, eyes flat. "Um...I was peckish?"

"A whole turkey," Ozpin said dryly. "Qrow, I get that the training makes you work up an appetite, but by Avo do you have to use your Guile even while in the Guild?"

Training? Guile? All of it was foreign to Jaune. The only life he knew was what he had in Oakvale. Work on the farm with his father, learn how to read and write, go inside and eat dinner with his family. "What?"

"I'll explain later," Qrow said hastily, glaring at Ozpin. The white-haired boy didn't seem fazed by it and to Jaune's surprise, seemed rather amused by it. He couldn't have been any older than ten years old at the most, yet he carried a certain air about him that made him seem older. Light blue glowing lines laced up and down Ozpin's exposed forearms and Qrow dragged Jaune along behind him. "Don't worry about Oz; he teases a lot and thinks he's soooo clever because he has these smug little spell fingers, but he's a good guy. Sticks up for us youngsters whenever one of the older apprentices tries to bully us."

"Hm." Jaune didn't know what to say. He had just met him, and it was only a brief introduction at best. "Has he been here long?"

"Three years. He mostly studies magic with Maze," Qrow answered, leading Jaune behind him as they passed through the Guild Halls. The blond boy could hear an angry woman ranting and raving about bloody Heroes thinking they could get away with stealing from under their noses and he gave his new friend a flat stare. "What? You had to be starving. Not the first time Maze brought in a newcomer in the middle of the night."

"Maze? The old man in blue robes who rescued me?"

"The very same." Qrow nodded. They left the kitchens behind, passing underneath a large stone arching doorway that led into a massive courtyard. It was filled with gardens and flowers, each of them perfectly lined up to create a serene yard. The sun was shining brightly and Jaune held his hand over his eyes until they got used to the bright light. Several dozen teenage boys and girls dressed in blue robes with white stripes milled around, some of the older ones giving Qrow a dirty look as they passed by a group of rose bushes.

The black-haired boy merely rolled his eyes at the various insults thrown his way, grinning cheekily at some of the older girls. "Heroes don't exactly appreciate the usage of Guile," he explained when he noticed Jaune's confused look. "Many consider it to be the tool of a thief and criminal." Qrow shrugged and put his hands on his head. "Most of the apprentices you'll meet are like that. It's not completely their fault; many Heroes who turned to banditry were very proficient with the art."

"What is it though? Forbidden art?"

"Not exactly forbidden, but it's not often taught here. Guile is a rare skill these days. Those who train in it are more adept at things like sneaking around or picking locks. The Guildmaster can explain more over there." The black-haired boy sighed and motioned over to a small arena kicked into the dirt surrounded by a wooden fence. A single straw dummy with a target painted on it sat in the middle of the dirty arena and an old bald man dressed in ornate golden robes stood outside the gate, smiling warmly at the two boys as they approached.

"Greetings, Jaune of Oakvale," he greeted politely, his large white moustache ruffling. "Maze told me about your arrival last night. I am Weaver, the Guildmaster of the Heroes Guild. I trust that young Master Branwen here was not too much trouble? Avo knows he can be quite a prickly young man."

Qrow rolled his eyes and huffed, grumbling under his breath.

"N-no sir," Jaune stammered, looking up at the man nervously.

"Sir?" The Guildmaster chuckled. "How quaint. I understand you suffered a terrible ordeal. Bandits are cowards, preying on those uncapable of defending themselves. I'm sorry for your loss."

Jaune lowered his head and fought back the tears that threatened to spill again.

"Rest assured, you are completely safe here," the Guildmaster said encouragingly. "Maze brought you to the Guild, my boy, because you share the same gifts as everyone around you. You carry the blood of Heroes."

"M-me?" Jaune was flabbergasted. "But I'm just a farm boy."

"Many great Heroes have come from similar humble beginnings." The Guildmaster smiled, his eyes misty as if recalling fond memories. "Some of the very best. Be honest with me, young lad. Are you afraid?"

How couldn't he be? He spent all six years of his life knowing nothing about the world apart from Oakvale, only to have it burn before his very eyes. People he was friends with, slaughtered like animals. The smell of smoke still lingered in his nostrils, and he shook his head violently to banish the memory from his mind. His home was gone, his family destroyed, and now he was in the very training grounds of Heroes, being told that he too was one.

"It's alright to be afraid. Fear has its uses, as does any other emotion," the Guildmaster said wisely. "It is important that we learn to not let it control us. Far too many times have I seen brilliant young men and women venture out as Heroes, only to freeze in panic at the first sight of conflict. The life of a Hero is one ill-suited for cowards. Let me know immediately if you do not wish to remain here."

"Guildmaster, what the bloody hell are you saying!?" Qrow demanded angrily, pale red eyes flashing as he stood ready to defend him. "He just lost his family-"

"You will watch your language and keep your thoughts to yourself!" The old man glared at Qrow, though the boy did not shy away from it. "I was speaking to Jaune. No matter what his answer, it will be respected. He has a choice to make, as did you when you were brought on our doorstep two years ago."

"I'll do it," Jaune answered softly. The Guildmaster's thunderous glare ripped away from a sulking Qrow to look down at him and the blond boy swallowed a lump in his throat. "I don't want to go back." What would be the point? As Maze told him last night, there was nothing left for him there. Nothing but bodies and fire.

"This life is dangerous," the old man warned. "Many have given their lives for the Guild, some barely more than children. If you truly desire to be here, then you will need to put it the effort. Otherwise, I can kindly ask for the headmaster of Bowerstone School to take you in."

"No!" Jaune shook his head, looking up at the man and fighting back the fear that gripped at his chest. "I want to stay!"

"Hmm. We shall see." The Guildmaster leaned back and sent one last dirty look to Qrow. "You need to learn when to hold that tongue of yours, boy. It'll get you in trouble one day. Consider yourself fortunate that Jaune's training takes priority over me swatting you senseless. If you're looking for something to do, I'm sure the head washerwoman could use your help changing the linens if you don't feel like using something apart from your Guile in training."

"I get it," Qrow snapped. "Don't mince the words and just say it. You hate that Guile is my strong suit and think the Guild is better off without it." He stomped away before the Guildmaster could even get another word in and the old man sighed, shaking his head.

"I feel for that boy, I do," he murmured. "He's not the only one who has thought of their inborn gifts as a curse. You must understand, Jaune, that with great power comes great responsibility. It is my duty to prepare all who share the Heroic blood for life outside our walls, regardless if they're a magic-sensitive child born to nobles or an orphan who survived by stealing. I hope to guide them all to the path of righteousness, valiantly defending those who cannot defend themselves. But it is their choice in the end, whether they use their power to protect the people or use it to strike fear into everyone's hearts. No matter what, we look after our own while they are here."

"I think he's alright," Jaune said. "Just because he uses what is considered a tactic of murderers doesn't mean he is."

"Wise words, young man." The Guildmaster smiled and opened the gate to the arena, allowing Jaune to step inside. "Don't worry too much about making a fool of yourself; everyone does their first week or two. Some continue to look like fools until they graduate from the Guild. Just hit the target so I can see your form."

Hit it? With what? Jaune looked down at his two tiny fists and stepped up to the target. He cocked his fist back and struck it with everything he had, but it barely moved at all. It squeaked a little bit and rattled, but it didn't topple over like he thought it would. Jaune struck it again, only to get the same lame result. At first, he was afraid he might be ridiculed for his pathetic performance, but the old man didn't harshly reprimand him for it.

Instead, the Guildmaster frowned and stroked his trimmed beard. "Well, that wasn't unexpected. I'd be more amazed if it did topple over. You need a little something more...aha!"

He held out a heavy oak stick that looked like it had been used once or twice to swat at a particularly unruly child (possibly Qrow). "Here; hit it with this instead."

Jaune took the stick in hand and struck the dummy. This time, it did move, shaking about violently to the blond boy's relief. He heard the Guildmaster request he do it again and he did, feeling something strange begin coursing through his veins. Two hits turned into three, and Jaune swung the stick with all the might his six-year-old body contained. The stick hit the target with a meaty thwack before falling over and the blond boy paused for breath, his hands trembling.

"Well done, lad." The Guildmaster smiled warmly. "Well done, indeed. Maze was right about you."

"What?"

"Your blood is beginning to awaken, lad. Can you feel it? That power surging through your veins? That is the power of a Hero just beginning to find out what they're really capable of. Do you need a break, or would you like to continue? Our next exercise will be a timed race around the courtyard. Heroes need to be fit if they're to save a village from a pack of vicious beasts."

Jaune wiped the sweat from his face and handed back the stick, panting. "L-let's go."

For him, it was merely the beginning.


it was late in the afternoon when the Guildmaster finally called it a day. Jaune was doubled over, his chest and legs burning in agony, and the blond boy could barely hear the old man's voice. "That's enough for today. We will work on your endurance and strength in time. Go get something to eat; you must be starving."

Jaune's stomach growled loudly in response, and he felt heat rush up his cheeks. He was starving.

"The kitchens are the first room on your right when you enter the main hall," the Guildmaster said, pointing to the main building surrounded by old statues of past Heroes. "The head chef, Brunhilde, is a difficult woman to get along with, so be polite. She won't hesitate to swat you if she deems it necessary."

Jaune nodded, forcing himself to stand upright. His cheeks were flushed red and every joint burned in protest as he stumbled his way through the Guild courtyard and into the kitchens. An older apprentice, possibly fifteen or so, looked at the new farm boy in their midst and blocked his path to the kitchen. "So, you're the newcomer. A farm boy, no less." He scoffed. "Maze really must be scraping the bottom of the barrel for him to bring you here. Oh how our standards have fallen."

Ozpin came along, twirling a cane in his hands with a grin and stood next to Jaune. "Ah, Sky Lark, was it? I see you're favoring your right leg."

"What of it?" the older apprentice snapped, dropping his hood to reveal neatly combed dark blue hair that reached his shoulders. "This isn't a schoolyard. We're training to be Heroes. If this little boy can't handle it, he should go home." Jaune winced at the cutting words and Ozpin's eyes narrowed.

Sky Lark was thrown back by an unseen attack with a yell of pain and Ozpin tutted, pushing his glasses up on his face. "You really should mind your words. Preferably before you get humiliated again. Lost to Qrow again, did you? I can't imagine what it must be like to lose to someone half your age."

"Dirty mage!" Sky got up to his feet, glaring at the white-haired boy. "You associate yourself with filth and I'm not referring to the farm boy."

"Yes, yes, Guile is the art of an assassin or thief." Ozpin rolled his eyes. "I've heard this pathetic drivel before. Please spare my ears from hearing it. The Guildmaster and Master Wizard both believe he should be here. You may disagree all you like, but Guile is as much of a Heroic trait as high mana or being able to swing your halberd around. Who knows," he added cheekily. "Maybe he'll end up being the Guildmaster's successor in the future."

"Ha! As if a dirty thief like him will ever graduate." Sky scoffed and pushed rudely past the two boys, slamming his shoulder into Ozpin's. Just before impact, Ozpin's body became cloaked in a brilliant blue light and absorbed the blow easily, making Sky stumble instead. The blue-eye teen glared at the mage, who wore the largest of grins and merely waved in response.

"Thanks..." Jaune mumbled.

"No need to fret about it." Ozpin walked with him to the kitchens. "Sky isn't the most agreeable person in the Guild. The Lark family was hurt so badly by assassins and thieves, so terribly that his family seeing him being nice to Qrow would see it as a sign of weakness and cowardice. He is forced to maintain distance. I wonder if his attempts at bullying are to merely make Qrow stronger."

"Does Qrow let it bother him?"

"He tries not to. He hates being treated differently, but the fact of the matter is no one has seen a specialist of Guile in over two centuries. People fear that which they don't understand."

"Are you...one of them?"

"Goodness, no. Guile is a Heroic trait, no different to impressive strength or dexterity. The Guild encourages the study of every Heroic trait. Ideally, I think the Guildmaster would like to see more inheritors of the trait among the ranks of Heroes. You know how it is; a few bad apples spoil the bunch." Ozpin sighed. "Such gifts are often misused."

The smell wafting towards Jaune immediately made him forget about the conversation. He breathed in deeply, the scent of freshly cooked meat and potatoes making his stomach growl even louder. Inside the kitchens, apprentices of all ages sat amongst themselves on long wooden tables and sitting in the far corner by himself lazily tossing a bruised green apple up and down was Qrow. The black-haired boy had his feet resting on the table and Ozpin muttered something under his breath in annoyance before making his way over to him.

"So, did you hear the news of how I'm a stain on the Guild yet?" Qrow asked with a bitter laugh, not meeting Jaune's eyes and continuing to toss the apple, catching it. "Yeah, it's not the first time."

"Qrow..." Ozpin sighed. "You're being an idiot about it and you know it."

"Am I?" The black-haired boy scoffed and leaned back in his seat, looking up at the ceiling. "Stop trying to make me feel better. My power is a curse. So much for thinking life here would be different."

"It is!"

Qrow stopped and looked over at Jaune, the youngest of them shaking angrily. He was still hungry, but right now he needed to get something off his chest. "Our home is gone! Even if you left, where would you go? You were brought here for a reason. Just as I was. I won't pretend I know you or what your power is. But I don't see you as a burden. What ever happened to making the bandits pay? Was that all just talk?"

Qrow looked away guiltily. "I can't control it. Guile isn't like most abilities. It's always active, whether I want it to be or not."

"Then don't bother." Ozpin shrugged and explained when both Qrow and Jaune stared at him. "You said it yourself. Guile is an ability that is always active. You see it as a curse, but in reality, it is quite useful. It is much more than picking locks or sneaking around. The true power behind it is how it affects your charisma. Better prices from merchants means you don't have to spend as much gold on weapons and armor. A silver tongue is a powerful weapon in its own right. And you're forgetting something very important. What Hero tree does Guile fall under?"

"Skill," Qrow answered bluntly.

"Exactly." Ozpin's eyes gleamed behind his glasses. "It is an ability of those proficient in Skill, which also covers accuracy and dexterity. All three abilities are tied to each other. As a specialist in Guile, your abilities in the tree of Skill are even stronger. You're more dexterous than most your age. Imagine what you can do when you graduate. Have you even tried training with a bow?"

"...no. The Guildmaster says I don't have the upper body strength for it." Qrow had a point. His body, as of now, didn't have the muscles developed for a longbow. But none of them did. They weren't close to graduation unlike the older apprentices, such as Sky. Ozpin was the oldest out of the three of them and he was only a year older than Qrow. Who was to say they couldn't reach that point after years of training?

"I propose an idea." Ozpin sat down across from the red-eyed boy, folding his hands under his chin. "The three of us are in the beginning processes of learning how to control our powers. After hours, when the rest of the Guild is asleep, we meet in the courtyard and train with each other. Fate may have had us meet later than it intended, but we are now brought together by an unseen destiny. We are, as you correctly pointed out Qrow, still children. But we are children who carry the power of the Archons themselves in our blood. Our bodies are more durable than a normal child of our age range. Stronger, faster. Not to mention Jaune himself impressed me with his will. Not many will brazenly call you out on your defeatist mentality, Qrow." His lips curved into an amused smirk.

Qrow rolled his eyes and leaned forward, taking Ozpin's hand. "I'm in. Training at night will get us to the points where we need to be. We'll be the best Heroes in the land."

Ozpin chuckled. "I figured you'd say that. What say you, Jaune of Oakvale?"

The blond boy hesitated briefly. But only briefly. These two were offering him a chance he was never going to get again. Fear of being left back burned with his mind and he slapped his hand down into the pile.

"I'm with you."


Out of sight from the apprentices as they dined for the evening, Weaver couldn't help but smile fondly at the three young boys as they huddled together. As you said, Maze. Jaune has the potential for greatness, whether it be good or evil. Him and Ozpin make for a calmer mindset to counter Qrow's brash behaviors. These three together might be the key to saving our world.

The threats that lurked outside the safety of the Guild were something he tried so hard to prepare his students for. Wild beasts and bandits lurked behind every tree, and there were nasty rumors that an ancient threat, once thought to be banished from the world forever, had returned. Keep each other safe. Look out for each other. Fate may have had you meet after tragedy, but your actions together will make you brothers.

Weaver turned away from the kitchens and slinked up the tower to Maze's office. The Master Wizard was right to bring Jaune to the Guild. If only they had found the trail sooner and hadn't been forced to go on a wild goose chase looking for him. Scarlet Robe was a recluse even amongst other Heroes. The trauma she endured during her service made her retire from being actively fighting and seek companionship.

Maze was behind his desk when Weaver entered, and the Master Wizard looked up from the tome he was reading. "Guildmaster. What is the meaning of this visit?"

Weaver smiled and eased himself into a comfortable chair, leaning back with a groan. "You were right."

"About?" Maze pressed.

"The three you saw in your vision. A rogue, a mage, and a knight, standing together to banish the dark shadow that has crept over Albion. It's them."

A thin smile worked its way onto the old wizard's face and he chuckled, reaching under his desk to pull out a bottle of wine procured from Bowerstone's North quarter. "I assume they are bonding with each other well, if the Guild hasn't been incinerated yet. My little apprentice has quite the affinity for fire magic." He sighed in frustration. "If only he wasn't so careless with it." There was no need to say anything about Qrow. They all knew he used his Guile for petty mischief, but he was still just a child. He would grow out of it in time, and with Ozpin and Jaune by his side, he wouldn't stray down the path of darkness as long as they had each other. For too long, users of Guile have been wrongly persecuted. Qrow could finally turn that reputation around, if he learned to stop trying to control it. Guile was not an ability one could order around at their fancy. It was undisciplined by its very nature.

"The farm boy himself has a target painted on his back," Weaver warned. "There are many out there who would love nothing more than to make sure his bloodline doesn't flourish. You saw it, didn't you?"

"Yes." Maze nodded, pouring the wine into two silver goblets and handing one over to the old Guildmaster. "The power of the Archons is within him, though he doesn't seem to know anything about being a Hero."

"Qrow and Ozpin will be by his side to teach him as well as us," Weaver said, accepting the goblet and taking a sip. "They even plan to train together after sunset."

"Guildmaster-"

"I will not impede their progress. This is too important. Bandits wouldn't randomly massacre a village like that; there's no profit in it and as much of a bastard Twinblade is, he would never order an attack on Oakvale. Someone else is behind this and we don't know who or what it is. Therefore, it is in our best interests to guide the three you saw in your vision so that we may be prepared for whatever is working against us."

Maze sighed and sipped his wine. "Very well. Is that all you wanted to tell me?" It was obvious by his frown that Maze wasn't fond of bending the rules to suit a vision, but he knew better than to argue.

"No. Tred carefully, old friend. Something powerful is at work here," Weaver warned. "You're smart enough to know that. Jaune and his family were targeted for a reason. Someone wanted that bloodline destroyed." Records of the boy's family were hard to find, but they found one name and knew that the boy was in great danger. His mother was none other than the infamous Scarlet Robe, a Hero sometimes called the Reaper due to her performance in the Witchwood Arena eleven years ago. Weaver was surprised to find out that a silver greataxe could be so devastating of a weapon. She was a formidable warrior in her day, and a master of tearing balverines to shreds. Oh how they all mocked when she first came to the Guild, saying she wasn't a true Hero. Scarlet proved them all wrong by becoming a champion of the Witchwood Arena and by refusing to take a break in between rounds. Her record set the standard for which all future competitors would be judged, even now. She retired not long after becoming champion, falling in love with a hunter from Oakvale. Weaver allowed her to enjoy her life and she eventually had two children. One of whom had inherited her gifts.

"I'll keep an eye on them," Maze promised. "With those two by the boy's side, he is sure to be dragged into trouble."

"And it will be our duty to train the next generation. Make sure they are up to the task of defending Albion from the threats outside our walls. Is your own successor coming along well?"

"He is. He has a remarkable understanding of magical theory. A brilliant young lad. It's hard to imagine he's a mere child at times. The way he acts and speaks, you'd think he was already a man."

Weaver chuckled. It was rare for Maze to praise anyone on their control of magic, let alone take an apprentice. Young Ozpin was a very special youngster. The boy was a prodigy when it came to magic, using spells that most Heroes didn't learn until after they graduated from the Guild.

Perhaps the future isn't as bleak as we feared.

A/N: And that's all for this one. Thank you all for reading and have a good one.

-Kagerou#9718