Cerulean pools flashed over the letter a second, third, and fourth time. He double-checked the heading and signatory stamp of two crossed axes; Jaune couldn't help but break out into a dumbfounded grin, letting out a breath he only then realized he'd been holding in. The transcripts had worked! Folding back up the beige paper and pulling it close to his chest Jaune fell back into his bed, pumping a fist in the air.
Victory was finally in the young man's grasp. For him, in that sole moment, the denials from Pharos and Signal three years prior, the countless nights he'd stayed up watching swordplay training on the CCTnet, the odd jobs he'd taken around the village, and the ever-present denial of his dreams by his family all but faded out of existence. Jaune Arc was going to Beacon Academy.
"Absolutely not, frankly I couldn't give a damn what the Headmaster wrote. Your place, Jaune, is here; home in Cascadia." Nicholas's position was firm, the Arc Patriarch jamming his index finger into the dining table. Even sitting down the older man's height rose easily a foot over the younger blond, several deep scars running along his cheek and neck barely obscured by a blond beard. "You have no idea of the atrocities I faced in that life, those horrors don't wash away like yesterday's training grime; they latch on to you, festering until you can't look at yourself in the mirror without seeing your own corpse."
For the first time in a long while, Nicholas felt afraid.
Jaune's father leaned in, looking his only son in the eyes; "I lost three good men from the militia today alone, the Grimm aren't like the fairytales we told you and the girls as children…"
"Dad, I know how-" Jaune tried desperately to interject only for his father to shout him down, "NO! No, you don't know Jaune! You can't know! You've been blessed by the Brothers to have never borne witness to entire villages razed to the ground by the Grimm!"
The older Arc's voice continued to rise, "I've seen Ursa thrash grown men in two! Packs of Alpha Beowolves tear apart hunters and huntresses alike, Beringel decimate entire squads of militiamen!" Nicholas stood from his seat glaring down at his seventeen-year-old son, "You think I want you coming home from Beacon in a wooden box?! Is that how you want your mother and sisters to remember you?" His father seemed to be on the verge of tears, the deep scowl burning a hole in Jaune's heart.
Nicholas's voice softened as he spoke, "I know you want to do the right thing, be the hero of the day, but too many times I've watched young men just like you be cut down in their prime. I can't stand by and let my boy be killed chasing a dream. Not you, let someone else fight those battles"
The blond paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully; "If not me, then who? Who has to throw down their life so I can stand by and live one of mediocrity!" Jaune's brows furrowed, disbelief etched across his face. "Would you rather it be the forge master's son? His daughter? Maybe the Barkeep's boy can die instead of me!"
His voice rose till it nearly met the volume his father once had, "I made my choice the day I sent in my application to Beacon! Someone has to be there to protect humanity, to bear the burden of pushing back the Grimm! Why in the Brother's names shouldn't it be me!?"
"BECAUSE YOU ARE MY SON DAMNIT" Nicholas snapped, crashing his fist into the table. "YOU… are my son-" a small sob escaped his father's throat, "My baby boy, my only son" Newfound tears rolled down his father's cheeks, sliding across the veteran's jawline before resting near his chin. "I cannot bring myself to fathom burying you." Nicholas brought the hem of his thick sweater to his eyes.
Jaune quietly pleaded, his voice faltering ever so slightly. "Then let me learn to fight for myself, so I can-". His father cut him off, Nicholas's pained eyes meeting his own, "Don't you dare say it, don't you dare give me that hope Jaune."
The younger man spoke firmly, "I promise you Dad, on my word as an Arc. I'll come home from Beacon alive." Jaune paused, the lump in his throat threatening to choke him; "With or without your approval." He didn't wait for a response from his father, instead turning face and walked from the room.
A heavy sigh left Nicholas's lips, the older Arc slumping back down into his chair, his hands falling to his head.
"You have to let him go, Nick..." The voice of Juliet Arc echoed from behind him. Nicholas turned, his wife of decades looking at him from the back door. "You heard him, our son is going no matter what" Juliet softly spoke, sitting across from him. "He's the spitting image of you at Beacon you know? Same bright eyes and stubbornness I saw in my partner"
"That's what I'm afraid of Jules…" Nicholas stood, holding his wife in his arms "He'll make the same damn mistakes I did, but without any of the training or experience I had."
Juliet stifled a small laugh as she eyed Nicholas "I think you're overestimating your skill back then, last I recall I was the one saving you from the Deathstalker". The Arc Matriarch smiled softly, "You have to let him make those mistakes, we can't keep him locked up in Cascadia for the rest of his life"
Nicholas stood quietly, feeling his worry for his son fade as he met his wife's smile.
Jaune laid back on his bed, the simple beige letter folded in his hands. A pang of guilt formed in the pit of his stomach as his eyes tracked over the same line: 'It is with great pride that Beacon Academy welcomes the newest generation of the Arc family, our finest achievements are that of our Legacy Students.' Legacy? What legacy was he upholding? He was 500 lien short and an academic fraud. How did cheating his way into Beacon grant pride to the Arc name? His mind wandered to the consequences: humiliation, expulsion, disgracing a bloodline of heroes and great leaders with the stain of a failure.
Jaune felt himself sink deeper into the familiar mental rut, he'd get people killed; maybe just one if he was lucky, maybe his whole team if he wasn't… Jaune sat up, desperate to flood the bleakest outcome from his thoughts, his gaze landing on his reflection in his mirror. Dark blues eyed themselves, "Is it too much to ask? To be the Hero?" He spoke to himself. To do something right for once. To be the one others looked up to, be the victor. Jaune sighed, the evening rays pouring through his window; Mom would be making dinner soon, and the girls were home by now. His emotions got the better of him, the blonde sliding under his covers and flicking off his lights.
It wasn't until early morning when there was a knock at his door. His father entered, his eyes had lost their anger, replaced by a look of tense worry. "Your mother and I talked it over, and I won't stop you from attending Beacon. But, if that is your choice, I cannot support you." Jaune stood up, readying himself to protest his self-determination; when his father's voice silenced him. "And while I cannot support you, nor can I allow my only son to venture through the wilds of Sanus unprotected. Follow me…" Nicholas turned walking from Jaune's doorway, the younger Arc quickly following after him.
"The Arc name, its heritage; is one bound by a bloody history of huntsmen as old as the Kingdom of Vale. We have for generations been the bulwark against the Grimm, a paragon of hope for those lost and afraid." His father spoke as he exited from the back of the house, stopping several yards from the back porch. Jaune came to a standstill a few feet from him. "Our name is one that rouses men to lay down their lives at our command, it drives a blade of dread into the hearts of our adversaries. To carry it is not something to be overlooked, and so I ask you this once and once alone." The older Arc's eyes met his son's, "Will you uphold that honor?"
Jaune's heart sunk as he thought of his lie, the tears nearing his eyes ready to betray him. "I will. I'll carry that burden with pride."
Nicholas pulled his son over and embraced him, before placing him at arm's length "With that, Jaune, you are fit to have your Aura unlocked. My one gift to you on your journey."
With his hands on his son's shoulders, Nicholas closed his eyes and spoke: "It is through blood and sweat we are bound to guard the innocent, by sword and shield we live, and by tragedy and triumph we learn. Your soul forever tied to name, and with it I burden thee". With his final words spoken, Jaune stepped back from his father, feeling as if he'd suddenly had the weight of Remnant lifted from his shoulders, and the pale yellow hue that had encompassed him began to fade away. Nicholas spoke with a hint of pride, his own darkened gold aura flickering slightly before returning to a lighter hue. "You've got quite the reserves kid."
Jaune pulled his old man into a hug, tears rolling from his eyes. The two looked up to see Juliet Arc and her seven daughters all affectionately recording on their scrolls from the back porch; the sight arising a soft chuckle from the Arc Patriarch.
"Come on Jaune" He looked down at his son, a gaze of pride, hope, and deep-seated fear. The rising morning sun warmed their backs as Nicholas spoke "Let's break the big news together"
It had been mere days since his father had unlocked Jaune's Aura, and the blond slowly but surely was getting a better grip on his control of the newfound extension of his soul. He flushed it out from what felt like his chest to surround himself, trying to focus the energy around his arms and legs.
Instead of the bolstering power that he'd felt in the backyard, his aura dragged like a slush around his limbs. Eying Saphron's old Griffball hammer, the blond picked it up hesitantly; his gaze dropping to his leg… Jaune swung down.
CRACK.
Pain. So much PAIN.
Jaune couldn't help but hobble around his room, his hands firmly grasped around his right calf, silently cursing himself for his idiocy.
Slowly but surely the pain resided and Jaune looked down, noting the lack of bruising around his shin; his aura flaring around his leg. Pain? Yes, definitely. Damage? Not at all. A smirk grew on Jaune's face, he could get behind a personal forcefield.
Walking over to his desk, Jaune poured over the map of Sanus in his hands, drawing out his path to Vale. The quickest road to Vale from his hometown of Cascadia would take Jaune down through the Wilds and over the Valean mountains; the blond groaning aloud "Why did Mom and Dad have to settle down on the Northeastern side?"
Jaune sat wondering how in Remnant he was going to travel nearly a thousand miles to Vale Proper. Walking seemed like the only option and with the odd village every 50 miles or so apart sleeping out with the Grimm was an unlikely reality. An empty pause filled the air as the seventeen-year-old came to understand the nearly 20 days of walking ahead of him. The only problem now was getting hiking supplies… His family wouldn't miss one backpack right?
Letting out a cough in the dry and dusty attic, Jaune fished around open boxes for anything he could use as a hiking bag. The search seemed fruitless, nevertheless, blue eyes continued to scour their surroundings until something grabbed their attention; Jaune stood up, walking over and picking up a rather large box labeled 'Gramps' in his father's handwriting. The blond opened the container; a grin spread across his face as he looked at the brown hiking bag and tan boots resting on the top.
In a quick motion, Jaune pulled the two items out and slipped on the bag and boots. His gaze fell to his old sneakers, 'right' and 'left' written in thick lettering onto the pair's soles. Jaune let out a chuckle at his old antics, pausing in consideration for a moment before grabbing a thick marker and writing the same onto the soles of his new boots. The blond looked at himself in the mirror, the new look reminding him of the camping arc from the latest comic of X-Ray and Vav he'd picked up in town. The tan contrasted against the denim of his jeans, the blonde furrowing his brow before sliding his hoodie sleeves up to his elbows; Jaune nodding silently to his grinning reflection.
Jaune dug back into the box, pulling a long thin padded bag from inside. Sliding the bag open, the blond's eyes shot open with surprise at the close to ancient .30 caliber magazine-fed rifle that lay in front of him, memories from his history classes of The Valean Expeditionary Forces carrying them through Solitas. A smile crept up his face as he grasped the operating handle and slid the bolt back, marveling at the immaculate craftsmanship "Oh yeah…You're coming with me to Beacon"
It was early in the morning when Jaune had slid on the old bag, slung the heavy rifle over his right shoulder, and closed the door to his childhood room for the last time. Goodbyes were always the worst, and Arc wasn't one for crying his eyes out this early. He'd made it about halfway towards the door when he felt the presence, pivoting on the balls of his feet to see his Mother and sisters. In a heartbeat, he'd run back and brought his mom and a few of his sisters into a hug.
"You give them something to remember Jaune, Beacon or not; you'll always be my son." Juliet's tears ran onto her son's shoulder. Jaune opened his mouth to speak, finding only the strength to utter, "I will, I promise."
Eventually, his sisters all drew him into similar quiet hugs, exchanging glances of hope, apprehension, and quiet esteem. It was then he noticed the bone white plate armor, family sword, and shield resting on the same dining table he'd fought for his dream over, the emotional dam he'd prepared threatened to crumble, his eyes glistening.
Collapsing the white heater shield to its sheath form and clipping it to one of the two belts at his waist, Jaune slid the chest armor and pauldrons into place before his hands clasped around Crocea Mors. The blade of legend passed from generation to generation; had arrived at its newest keeper. They trusted him with it, they believed in him. That was enough.
Jaune let himself smile, looking over his family of seventeen years; "I'll see you guys soon. I love you." Feeling his heart ache as he turned away, Jaune opened the door and walked out into the cool North Valean wind. Jaune Arc hated crying his eyes out this early.
Howdy, I'd like to thank yall for taking the time to read Arm and Sword, my first real attempt at putting together a story. I'm still working out how I'll form the storyline for, but I've got a few ideas cooking. Massive thanks to my Beta Reader Flasno. I'm trying to strike a good balance between the Jaune we know and how this more dangerous world of my story will shape him on his journey to Beacon. Talking about the world of RWBY with a buddy of mine, we both lamented over how the Grimm don't truly seem to present a threat in Canon; I'm hoping that is one of the changes I can pull off here. Please feel free to leave a review with whatever questions, comments, or feedback you have, I can't wait to read them!