Chapter 3
Old Wounds
"Can you please pass the dumplings, Jaune?" Terra Cotta-Arc asked politely, still trying to make a positive impression with the rest of the family. She thankfully didn't have to raise her voice, as the older Arc children were well-versed in keeping the dinner table a civilized setting, and the smaller girls were busily stuffing their faces from the delicious banquet before them.
"Schure," Jaune replied from around a mouthful of lo mein, grabbing the circular bamboo basket and handing it across the large, rectangular table.
"Jaune." His mother softly rebuked him.
He swallowed audibly before offering her a soft "Sorry," to which she simply nodded curtly.
"So, Terra, you work with the CCT network?" Rose began, prodding the conversation along in the safest lane she could think of.
"Yes, ma'am, I'm the lead technician for InterComm in Argus. Mostly I have to just keep my field techs from tearing their hair out on a daily basis. City of fifty thousand isn't easy to keep linked in. Not to mention keeping the relay up to Mistral and Atlas, plus the Atlesian military comms on top of that," Terra continued, getting more animated and relaxed with a topic of conversation that didn't involve eloping, babies or lack of familial communication.
"What kind of bandwidth do you generate? On average?" Marguerite asked, being by far the most technologically savvy of the Arc sisters.
"Average? Two hundred forty terabytes of throughput per hour, plus or minus. Peak is around three times that, especially for stuff like tournament coverage," she added without guile, missing the brief flick of Renard's impassive gaze in her direction.
"Don't suppose you packed any relay equipment with you?" Margie asked hopefully, taking a sip of green tea.
"Brothers, no. This is the first peace and quiet I've had in months. No way am I giving that up," Terra fired back with a grin.
The eldest of Terra's sisters-in-law could only grumble at the remark, checking her scroll for the tenth time since dinner had been served. Marguerite's eyebrows perked for a moment upon seeing a notification, eagerly checking who had sent her a message. This hope was quickly snuffed out as the animated busy icon looped endlessly, despite her scroll telling her it had signal, prompting a growl from the darkest-haired blonde of the bunch.
"The only thing worse than no CCNet…" she began softly.
"Is slow CCNet," Terra finished for her.
"I know, right? Who the hell is hogging all the bandwidth?" she groused.
"A topic for another time, dear?" her mother replied, arching a disapproving eyebrow at scroll use at the dinner table.
"Sorry," she mumbled, securing her device and tucking into her fried rice. "Who's got the soy sauce?"
Jaune, on the other hand, had been quietly doing the same thing, but he was far better at concealing the action from his experience in the lecture halls of Beacon Academy. One was far more careful about rules violations when your professor could kill Ursai at fifty paces without batting an eyelash. What wasn't surreptitious, however, was his eyes going wide in surprise at his own scroll traffic.
Sender: PyrrhaANikos Beacon,aca
Downloading video files 1/27
Sliding his scroll closed, Jaune likewise pocketed his device, lest he earn the ire of his older sister.
"So how's life in the big city, little brother?" Violette asked, always eager to lord her age over Jaune.
"Ehh, I don't get down there much. Too much going on at Beacon. There's the course load, the homework, all the extra training I'm doing just to keep up," Jaune admitted sheepishly.
"Not to mention holding down a job," his father finally chimed in. "Must pay pretty well for part-time work. You paid for the accommodations, after all," he added, outwardly magnanimous, but Rose, Jaune and his three older sisters tensed. Their father wasn't prone to fits of anger, nor was he the type of man to browbeat a wayward child into submission. Renard Arc was the kind of father who gave you enough rope to hang yourself before giving you a firm, fatherly reminder of your foolishness.
"Oh, that. No, my partner shared her tournament bonus with us. The team, I mean," he clarified nervously, knowing that he'd stepped into a minefield, but as yet unsure how to navigate it.
"I was under the impression the Vytal Festival didn't pay anything to the winners. Student athletes and all that," Renard replied smoothly.
"Wasn't from the tournament itself. One of her sponsorships, actually," Jaune clarified.
"You guys get sponsors?" Olivia interjected eagerly. "Cool!"
"Well, yes, cool, but no. Just Pyrrha. And yes, Pyrrha Nikos is most definitely cool," Jaune added warmly, duly proud of his partner for the next three years, and perhaps even beyond, if he was lucky.
"Wait a minute," Violette cut in. "You're telling me the Pumpkin Pete's girl is your partner?" she asserted skeptically.
"Yeah?" Jaune replied, wondering why anyone would doubt such a fact. "I've got a picture of the team on my scroll…" he began before remembering that he was the cause of Margie's frustration. "Which is upstairs. Charging. Completely dead," he added nervously.
"Uh huh," Violette retorted.
"What? Didn't you guys catch the tournament at all?" Jaune asked incredulously.
"TV's been broken for the last three weeks. Would've gotten it replaced, but your father's been in the wilds for the last two months, and you know how he is about that kind of thing," Rose explained. When it came to anything over fifty lien, he knew that his father was possibly the pickiest, fussiest shopper on Remnant, and Jaune knew a Schnee.
Jaune looked crestfallen for a moment before he remembered his pockets, digging into his hoodie with his right hand. With a small degree of difficulty, he extricated a flat box covered in black velvet, a little larger than an opened scroll. This slid across the table with ease, coming to rest in front of Violette's plate.
"Open it," he told her, drawing the attention of all his sisters save Saphron, who'd already seen the contents. Vi flipped open the lid and her smugly skeptical smile faded just a hair. She cut her gaze up to her brother briefly before looking back down at the diamond-shaped silver medal held in a nest of black velvet, the interior of the lid decked out in silk of the same color, embroidered in gold with the insignia of all four Huntsman academies.
"Nice. Limited edition?" Violette asked with a mischievous smirk, leaving the word 'souvenir' unspoken.
"Yeah. Only four made every other year," Jaune replied, his own grin rising to the occasion. It was easy to smile when you knew you held all the cards.
"Suuure," she retorted sarcastically before Margie plucked the medal case from her slightly malicious younger sister's grasp.
"Give me that," she said, and the case dipped in her grasp for a moment before Marguerite adjusted to the unexpected weight. Plucking the medal from its nest, the deep blue ribbon folded underneath, she hefted the weighty medal for several seconds before her blue eyes looked up at her brother, then over to Violette. "This is real," she said, voice barely above a whisper, her gaze slowly pivoting back to meet Jaune's. "Where did you get this?" she asked him, awestruck.
"Amity Coliseum, last Tuesday," he said matter-of-factly. "Turn it over," he added, voice just above the utter silence that had taken over the dining room.
"Fortieth Vytal Festival Tournament, Team…J-N-P-R?" she paused, voice tinted with confusion.
"Juniper," Jaune clarified.
"Ah," she said, feeling a bit silly for not figuring it out herself, but smiling softly. "Jaune…" she resumed, pausing immediately as the reality of the situation hit her, her grin evaporating instantly. "Jaune Arc, Nora Valkyrie, Pyrrha Nikos, Lie Ren. Why does your name have an asterisk next to it?"
"That's my team, and I'm their leader," he said evenly, much surer of the statement than he had been immediately after initiation.
"Ohmigosh, I have the coolest brother EVER!" Ivy shouted, leaning over to hug her brother as tightly as her little frame would allow, twin pigtails bobbing as she rocked back and forth. Give her another seven years, and unlock her aura, and the girl would put Nora to shame.
"Jaune, why didn't you tell anyone?" Rose asked, voice soft and warm as a blanket fresh out of the dryer, smile radiant as the sun.
"I thought you'd watch the tournament?" he replied with a shrug.
"I…I'm sorry, Jaune," she said, eyes misting over ever so slightly.
"Enough," Renard finally said, his fatherly demeanor belied by the chill in his voice.
"Ren?" Rose asked warily.
"Ivy is a child, Rose, but I will not have you indulge this…farce any longer."
"What?" she replied, aghast. Renard simply swung his eyes around the table to his son, Jaune beholding his father truly angry for the first time in years.
"All right, Jaune, this has gone far enough. I do have to say I'm impressed. This is the most effort I've ever seen you put into anything," he added, a stinging rebuke disguised as a backhanded compliment.
"You're not wrong," Jaune fired back, voice colder than an Atlesian winter.
"Rose, take the girls upstairs," Renard growled, not breaking the staredown with his son.
"No," Rose and Jaune both said, startling her.
"What?" he replied testily, even as something in Jaune snapped.
"You want to tear me down in front of my family? Fine. They get to watch me fight back," he retorted, voice already getting dangerously loud.
"Careful what you wish for, boy," Renard cautioned his son.
"Or I'll get it? Try me," Jaune replied, already angry enough to carelessly provoke an accomplished huntsman into the same state of mind.
"Remember, Jaune. You wanted this," he began, a predatory grin taking over his face. "For starters there's no way you even got accepted to Beacon. You have no training, and no aura,"
"Whose fault was that?" Jaune interjected testily.
"And nothing you could have done in the two weeks you had before the school year started would change that," His father barreled on.
"You're right. Professor Ozpin accepted me in spite of that, even I didn't understand why at the time. What else you got?" Jaune fired back easily enough. The only advantage to constantly doubting oneself lay in knowing exactly how others would attack you.
"Even if I accept such a ridiculous claim, there's no damn way you made it to, let alone through initiation."
"Almost right that time, Dad. I nearly died three, no wait…four times that day," he began, getting a gasp from his mother loud enough to cut through the shouting match.
"Oh, so you survived getting launched off of a cliff into the Emerald Forest, a drop of nearly a hundred feet, with no aura!?"
"I'm not sure I would have survived the impact even with my aura unlocked, but yes. I got speared out of midair by my partner and stapled to a tree," he fired back viciously, his intense stare at his father missing the flinch from his mother.
"A one in a million shot," Renard fought back, grasping at straws for once.
"That Pyrrha can make any day of the week and twice on Sunday. She's the one who unlocked my aura. She's the one who taught me to fight. She's one of the first people who actually believed in me," Jaune's voice growing louder as he emphasized each point with two fingers jabbing angrily into the tabletop.
"You knew," Rose said, barely audible over the two arguing men, her head shaking in disbelief.
"What?" her husband replied, knowing full well from her tone how dangerous the woman's state of mind was.
"You knew what he would face at Beacon. You KNEW it could kill him! And you LET HIM GO ANYWAY!?" Rose Arc screamed across the table, furious in a manner none of her children had ever seen.
"He was never going to go through with it! He was going to half-ass it like everything he's ever done! He was going to quit, or chicken out at the last second, or…something!" Renard bellowed back, his hands gesturing in angry exasperation. "Guitar lessons. Computer camp. Ceramic studio. Dancing lessons. Piano tutor. Wood carving kit. Leather working," Jaune's father listed, a litany of disappointment boiling over angrily for the first time. "Only one of those lasted more than three months, and that's because he had a crush on his guitar teacher."
"All things you shoved me into because you refused to train me to do the ONE THING I've ever wanted to do!" Jaune finally, and angrily, interrupted.
"BECAUSE I KNEW YOU COULDN'T HACK IT!" his father screamed back, stunning everyone into silence. "I asked you a question, on your twelfth birthday, just like my father asked me, just like I've asked your sisters before you, and the ones after you when they're of age. I asked you what you wanted to do with your life. And you told me. You told me that you wanted to be a Huntsman. So I asked you why. You told me you wanted to be just like me."
"What the hell is wrong with that reason?" Jaune demanded.
"It's not good enough!" Renard fired back sharply. "I got through initiation, and my entire team was made up of legacies. Every one of us was the child of an accomplished Huntsman. I busted my ass to get into Beacon, and stay there, but they all coasted in, trained by their parents to higher levels than any prep school could ever manage, but without the work ethic they needed. Their hearts were in the right place, but I was the only one with the backbone to be a Huntsman," Renard stated with conviction, before his voice dropped to more sedate levels.
"In my four years at Beacon, I lost seven teammates. All legacy students. Two quit outright, one was maimed to the point she couldn't continue. Four of them died in the field, including every other member of my first year team," he added, the fire in his gaze all but gone as he looked down at the table, dinner forgotten.
"I kept you from that fate, Jaune. I kept you safe," Renard said softly.
"If you wanted me to be safe, you would've unlocked my aura," Jaune replied icily, snapping his father's eyes back up into his own.
"I can't," he said flatly.
"Couldn't? Or wouldn't?" Jaune responded, teeth grinding in simmering anger.
"Can't," Renard reiterated uncomfortably.
"What? Why?"
"I've never been able to. I unlocked my aura spontaneously when I was seven. Never been sure if that's the reason or not. I've tried. Brothers, I've tried."
"So what am I supposed to do, Dad?" Olivia interjected, alarmed even beyond how heated the argument already was. "Classes start in three and a half months, and I need to get a handle on my aura before then!" she shouted with all the subtlety of a thirteen-year-old.
Jaune blinked twice before turning towards Liv, reading her face for a quiet moment. "Wait," He said quietly, pausing before looking back to his father once again. "You'll protect me, but not her?"
"Because she actually gets it, Jaune. She has the right mindset. The right reason," his father replied, as if it were the gospel truth.
"Fine," Jaune muttered angrily, standing up and jamming his hand back into his pocket to retrieve his scroll, his earlier lie forgotten. "You want a reason?" he growled, flicking through apps to get to his picture folder, scrolling to find the right image before calling it up, tossing the scroll to land flat in front of his father's plate.
"Ruby Rose," he began, putting a name to the face on display, a candid picture taken after the most infamous food fight in Beacon history, a smile warm enough to melt the stoniest of hearts. "From Patch, fifteen years old. Leader of our sister team, RWBY. Smart, funny, a bit awkward, has a cute little dog named Zwei. She loves cookies, strawberries, weapons, and obliterating Grimm. Was the first person at Beacon who gave me the time of day, even though I puked right in front of her on the airship on our first day," he added with a slight smile at the memory, in spite of the nickname he'd earned as a result.
"You're joking," Renard replied flatly, taken aback at…something. Jaune couldn't tell exactly what.
"She's my best friend, and…" Jaune continued, before running into a metaphorical brick wall when his father continued.
"You really think that's a better reason? You're going to Beacon to chase a damn SKIRT!?" Renard Arc thundered back. "I raised you better than this, Jaune! I would have thought your sisters would have taught you to think with your head, not your…" he raged on, before Jaune's fist slammed into the tabletop, a thunderous noise accented lightly with the sound of crackling wood. His father could only look at the boy's fist, abundantly brilliant white aura casting shadows behind the overturned cups and bowls immediately adjacent. As this faded, everyone, in wide-eyed silence, could see Jaune's hand was embedded half an inch into the thick table, splinters blossoming like a water lily around it.
"If I hadn't been at Beacon, if I had stayed home, safe, she'd be DEAD!" Jaune bellowed at his father, deep blue eyes set in a mask of fury. "I was there, Dad. I was at the Battle of Beacon! I fought at the breach of Vale! I was out there. Doing it. Just like I always wanted to. The only thing I've ever wanted to do. I was fighting for the people who couldn't. Risking my life so that others didn't have to. I was saving. Lives. I wasn't hiding in the basement, hoping my Dad would get home before the Grimm broke down the door. I wasn't sitting on the sidelines. I was making a difference. Just like I dreamed I would. I stood there, and I looked into the darkness, and I. Said. 'No'," he said, voice growing colder with each word before he drove the final point home with a deathly, quiet calm. "Just like my father always did. I know. Pretty stupid fuckin' reason, right?" he concluded, looking downward at the damaged table, somehow knowing that his mother at the very least had been reduced to tears.
Renard Arc couldn't even close his mouth for several seconds, stunned into silence by a man he barely recognized, wearing his little boy's face and that stupid hoodie. Several times, he took in a breath, trying to find a word, maybe even a coherent sentence, before his mind froze and he was forced to sigh in frustration and repeat the cycle again. The Arc sisters were all casting their gaze back and forth between their brother and their father; confused, frightened, unwilling to inject themselves into the conflict.
"Jaune…" his father said softly, still struggling to find the right thing to say. "Why…?" he tried to begin, certainly not the question Jaune was expecting.
"What?" he asked, finding his gaze moving upwards to regard his father. Renard Arc was currently a very conflicted man, if appearances were to be believed.
"Where was this? When I asked you, why didn't you tell me?" Renard beseeched his son. Apparently he was also hurt, confused, sad and amazed, once you matched his voice to his face. "This…you…" he began again, failing again to give voice to his emotions. "Why couldn't you tell me this before?"
"I was twelve!" Jaune replied, exasperated and tired. "I'm barely articulate now," he conceded quietly, looking down and scratching the back of his head. "By the time I was old enough to put it into words, you'd made it clear it was too late to start. That I'd never catch up," he added. "Damn if you weren't right about that," he almost mumbled.
"That was a better answer than I gave my father," Renard said softly, shaking his head as he took his seat, lost in thought.
Jaune slowly did the same, sighing softly as he spied Ivy in her adjacent chair. She was trembling, hugging her knees to her chest before her brother reached over and pulled her to him. "Sorry, Ivy," he mumbled gently, kissing the crown of her blond head. "Sorry you had to see that."
"S'ok" she managed through a sniffle.
"You knew about this, Saph?" Renard asked calmly.
"Would you have believed me?"
"I suppose not," he continued with a sigh, eyelids closing over weary eyes.
"Daddy?" Pearl asked tenuously, her eyes welling up from her spot beside him.
"Shhhhhh, kitten," her father replied, gently ruffling the youngster's long, straight hair. "It's okay now," he added, his gaze rising back to his son. He held it for several seconds, a wordless exchange between father and son held across the table.
"I've said my piece," Jaune said quietly, the fire finally beginning to ebb from his eyes. "Are we good?"
"Aye, son," Renard replied. "I'm still not happy about how this happened, but you're going to be alright. Not that it matters, apparently, but you've got my blessing."
"Ren," his wife cut in, tone sharp and warning.
"It's okay, Mom. Vale wasn't built in a day," Jaune interrupted, allaying her fears. "Your dinner's getting cold, Peri," he added.
A moment passed before the wild child of the Arc clan smiled softly, the spell over the family dinner table broken. Violette took Jaune's medal from her sister, appreciating it for what it actually was now. Ivy and Pearl both became far more animated, their respective idols at peace with each other. Marguerite resumed working with her chopsticks, before spying her brother's scroll two seats down, deciphering the notification icons easily.
"Jaune, you son of a…"
"Finish that sentence. Please," Rose cut in, slamming the door on her second daughter.
"Sorry," she replied, well-manicured nails finding their way into her exceptionally short hair.
"Don't worry, it's not normally like this," Saphron whispered into her wife's ear, still loud enough to be heard by their neighbors.
"So when are you bringing her to meet the family, Jaune?" Renard asked smoothly, sliding his son's scroll back across the table.
"Who? Ruby?" Jaune replied, quite perplexed.
"Yes. I'm genuinely curious just how your girlfriend managed to get into Beacon at such a young age," his father added.
"She's not my girlfriend!" he yelped desperately.
"Really? Why not? You seem quite the admirer, and, if you'll indulge an old man, she's rather fetching," he rambled on.
"Oh, where do I begin? She's my best friend, nothing more, and besides, her big sister would pummel me into hamburger, but only after she teased Ruby until she burst into flames. I've also been told that her father and uncle are even more dangerous. Besides, I don't even think she's into boys. Yet," Jaune qualified, neither of them ever having broached the subject.
"I can tell you with certainty that the big sister is far less dangerous than you think. She's just looking out for her sister, like any of you would do for each other," Renard reassured his son.
"Umm, Dad? What do you know about the Battle of Beacon?" Jaune asked, knowing well that facts were in short supply everywhere.
"Not much, just what I caught on the news once I got back into the Kingdom."
"Okay, so it boiled down to three people. Emerald and Mercury were just assassins, at least we think that's what they were there for. Cinder? Who the hell knows what she was? Anyway, they got into Beacon masquerading as exchange students from Haven. Turns out they were a lot older and more experienced than the first years they claimed to be. Some people say that they were trying to blow up Beacon tower, but I don't know for sure. Anyway, somehow they were discovered, and when they went to arrest them, things went sideways. Long story short, when Yang and I got there, I saw Ruby fall to the ground, bleeding out with Emerald standing over her. I tried to stop the bleeding, but it wasn't enough. I couldn't…" Jaune paused, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath lest he break down in tears.
"There wasn't anything I could do. And then I found my semblance," Jaune added, still eternally grateful for that blessing. "I was able to heal her. I brought her back from the edge," he continued, voice quiet and wavering slightly. "I wish I could have done more. Helped more."
"As would anyone in your position. Did you do everything you could?" Ren asked, voice warm and firm, recognizing the anguish in his son's voice.
"Yes. It still eats at me, but yes."
"Then you're on the right path. You can't save them all, Jaune. You can try, but you'll eventually fail. It's what you do afterwards that makes you a Huntsman," he replied, with all the gentle authority he could muster.
"Yeah, that's what Ozpin told me," Jaune stated flatly, clearly not yet believing it himself. His father knew he would learn, eventually, much as he had.
"You were saying something about Ruby's sister?" Renard asked, shifting the conversation away from delving into deeper, darker subjects, wishing to keep such things to just the two of them.
"Oh, yeah. I didn't get to see it, but from what everyone else said, Yang lost it. First year student against a trained assassin, her rocket locker trapped under the rubble, and Yang beat her damn near to death with her bare hands. Paramedics said it was a miracle she was still alive when they got there. I heard that she's in a coma in some secret hospital in Atlas, and that they don't think she'll ever wake up. So yeah, Yang scares the crap outta me," Jaune concluded, his hand finding the back of his scalp once again.
"Besides, Dad, he's dating his partner," Saphron piped up cheerily.
"Traitor,," Jaune hissed.
"There's a story there," Rose opined with a sly grin.
"Oh, not you too!" the boy wailed before growling in irritation.
"Yeah, what was that lipstick color again, honey?" Saphron asked of the lone diner not graced with blue eyes.
"Okay, one, she was seeing me off for the summer, two, it was on the cheek!" Jaune protested, bordering on hysterical.
"Oh I believe you, Jaune," Violette chimed in, her brother already wary of where she was going with it. "There's no way you pulled that kind of quality girl," she finished the thought.
"Gee, thanks, Vi," he deadpanned.
"I live to serve!" she retorted brightly, being met with narrowed eyes from the target of her mischief.
"So, semblance, huh?" Renard graciously interjected, saving him from further embarrassment.
"Yeah. Basically, it's aura amplification. I think. Haven't really had a chance to figure it out all that much," Jaune added, having made little progress in yet another aspect of being a Huntsman.
"You expend your own to amplify others, or is it more a direct transfer?" his father asked, legitimately interested.
"Both?" Jaune replied tentatively.
"Hmmm. Might be able to experiment a little before we leave Shion."
"Ren, you know I don't like you working on vacation," Rose warned.
"I said a little, dearest," Renard averred. "Besides, this is our son," he added, getting only a soft growl from his wife.
"Umm, Dad? Aren't you forgetting something?" Olivia asked bluntly.
"We have to wait until we get home, dear. You want someone you trust to unlock your aura, and I don't know anyone here," Renard informed her.
"I'll do it," Jaune stated simply.
Again, father was brought to a baffled silence by son.
"Seriously?!" Olivia blurted, eyes wide at her good fortune.
"Right now," he added succinctly. "I don't know if I want either one of us to have a full stomach for this. It felt a little weird when Pyrrha did me."
"Phrasing?" his mother interjected before one of her smart-mouthed daughters could say something truly inappropriate.
"He's right," Renard added. "And outside. Aura can be…unpredictable," he concluded cryptically. "Rose, take the girls, I need to speak to Jaune for a moment.
"All right. Come on ladies," she said, needing only a sliver of the authority she normally possessed to get everyone moving.
"Thank you," came a muffled voice as Olivia did her best Ivy impression, burying her face in her brother's shoulder as she tried to squeeze him to death. Seconds passed before she let go and moved out into the courtyard of the inn, joining the rest of the Arc women.
"You ever done this?"
"Nope."
"They still teaching this in first year aura studies?"
"Yeah, I think I've got a good grasp on it. I have a pretty sizable aura reserve to fall back on, if that helps," Jaune added.
"It might."
"You mentioned trust? Is there something I'm missing?"
Renard hesitated a moment before he spoke. "Many believe that when you unlock someone's aura, you leave a little bit of yourself behind. You're talking about basically merging souls, no matter how brief or how slight the contact."
"Makes sense," Jaune conceded.
"There is anecdotal evidence of a couple other aspects that I worry about. First is compatibility. I've never seen a confirmed case, but there are a few tales out there of unlockings gone wrong. All sorts of negative consequences, including one story of a pair so opposite each other that they died," Renard stated ominously. "I'm not worried about that, obviously, Liv looks up to you, perhaps even more now. The other aspect is why I didn't want some random hunter doing this. There are quite a few people who believe that if you unlock another person's aura, you'll always feel pulled towards them, trying to be around that little piece of your soul that isn't there anymore. I'm sure you understand the implications."
"Ummm, yeah?" Jaune replied, trying to project confidence, and failing miserably.
"You'll figure it out," Renard replied with a soft smirk.
"I guess."
"You remember the words?"
"Mostly?"
"That's…good? It'll come to you," Renard added, allaying both of their fears with a smile and a wink. "Ready?"
"As I'll ever be," he replied, rising from his seat.
The courtyard of the inn was small, but beautifully appointed. A koi pond with a half dozen of the ancient fish was partially covered by a small wooden bridge, deep brown decking contrasting with the intricately-carved railings painted a brilliantly deep red. The irregular granite flagstones were interrupted by small outcroppings of meticulously arranged stone, forming planter boxes containing primarily bamboo and jasmine, the latter heavily perfuming the late evening air. The sky overhead was splashed with brilliant reds and oranges as the early summer fled the sky, two strings of small, ornamental lanterns hanging between the rooftops surrounding the Arc family.
The women were all gathered on one of the wooden decks running along the face of the main building, and they parted to allow their father and brother through. Renard and Jaune took their place at the center of the bridge, the elder speaking briefly to the younger before they both turned to face the rest of their family. The patriarch of the family assumed a look of solemn authority, his imposing figure and wild mane of hair giving the impression of a lion, proud and noble as befitted the occasion. Jaune himself did his level best to not look silly, pulling off an air of maturity rather well, surprising all present.
"Olivia Katherine Arc, step forward," Renard pronounced in a warm, booming voice.
The young girl straightened herself, throwing her shoulders back before answering her father's call. Liv took her place on the bridge next to her brother, the two of them turning to face one another.
"Olivia, you stand at a crossroads. A fork, in the path of your life. You may continue, as you are, or you may choose to travel a darker road. One that carries with it a terrible burden, but supports the hope of all life on Remnant. Your choice is yours and yours alone to make, and neither carries shame, nor glory over the other," he pronounced, the only other noise heard being a soft chorus of crickets and the gentle burbling of the fountain at the opposite end of the pond.
"You have fully contemplated your path?" he asked.
"I have," she replied, voice strong and unwavering.
"Which do you choose?"
"I choose to stand against the long night, to walk in the shadows, that others may never fear the darkness."
"Do you make this choice willingly, without fear or reservation, pledging to hold to it with your sacred honor, until death take this burden from you?"
"I do," Olivia reiterated firmly with a slight nod as well.
"Then stand before your guide. As he speaks the oath, you will breathe out the old, shedding your life as you know it. When your guide is done, you shall be reborn, your journey begun anew with your first breath."
"Ready?" Jaune whispered softly, getting another nod from his little sister. For the briefest moment, he glanced at his father, reading the overwhelming, loving pride in his carriage, his deep blue eyes glistening ever so slightly. He did the same for Olivia, whose eyelids had fluttered closed in anticipation. Her face was a mask of rapt attention, eager energy threatening to bubble out of the already rambunctious girl.
Jaune swung his gaze further still, taking in the rest of his family with a nervous, yet warm, smile. His mother was already crying, but with a soft, matronly smile on her face denoting the heavily turbulent emotions within. Saphron and Terra both regarded the two siblings with pride, knowing that another Hunter from their family had taken up the call, willing to defend them and their unborn son to the bitter end. Marguerite was likewise a picture of pride, but slightly chagrined for ever having doubted her brother. Violette was, well, Violette, begrudgingly proud of the two runts who had followed immediately after her in the family, again making her feel inferior in the process. Pearl and Ivy both were beaming with pride at the two men in their lives being, well, men, protectors and mentors both to their older sister. And soft, gentle Peri regarded the proceedings with a reserved smile, peeking over a jasmine bush she was standing behind.
Jaune returned his attention to the task at hand, looking at Olivia with his own eyes threatening to blur before his left hand found her right temple, gently placing the fingertips of his right hand over her heart. With a moment's concentration, his aura flared to life, a gentle, shimmering white enveloping his hands and forearms as he searched for his target. The faintest glimmer, felt rather than seen, answered him, deep within her. A smooth, irregular mass of brilliant golden light appeared in his mind's eye, fiery and chaotic as currents of molten energy flowed through it. Reaching out with his aura, he could feel it, the searing, penetrating heat from her core that felt not unlike a sauna. Grasping Olivia gently, he could feel his own energies interact with hers, and he knew it was time. The trick, if one could even call it that, was to carefully push enough of one's own aura into your partner's, to the point where it was too much to contain and it erupted forth, suffusing their entire body. Jaune closed his eyes, thinking back to his own experience; brilliant, emerald green eyes and long, flowing red hair framing his entire existence for one brief moment in time.
Unbidden, her words came to his lips, or more correctly, the emotions she, they, had felt that day. He began to speak, voice reverent and calm, even as his soul seeped into Olivia's, slowly pushing her own to the bursting point.
"For it is in family that we gain immortality. Through this we become a paragon of harmony and strength to inspire all. Infinite in legacy and bound by blood, I unleash your soul, and by my shoulder uplift thee."
Olivia's eyes flew open, her head snapping back with one long gasp echoing through the courtyard as she took her first breath, a transformed young woman now standing before them all. She slowly returned to an approximation of a normal posture, looking down at her hands, a faintly flickering golden yellow visible for a brief moment to the three Arcs on the bridge before it faded to nothing.
"Greetings, Huntress. Your chosen path beckons," Renard said at last, his smile, and proud tears, more than enough to elicit the same from his daughter.
"That. Was. AWESOME!" Olivia shouted, barreling into her father and wrapping him in a fierce hug that he gladly returned for several seconds before ruffling her dirty blonde bob cut hair. "Daaaaaaad," she grumped.
"I don't care if you're a Huntress, you're still my little girl," Renard replied patiently as said little girl disengaged and attacked her brother with the same fervor.
"Thankyouthankyouthankyou!" she squealed into his chest, garnering a soft smile from her sibling as he returned the gesture. "Mooooom!" she cried, dashing over to the rest of her family, leaving Jaune and Renard on the bridge.
"What was all that?" Jaune asked quietly, still smiling at Olivia's energy.
"Hmm? Oh, Arc family tradition, handed down from the days of the Old Kingdoms. You would've gotten the same if…" he replied, trailing off before he reopened a sensitive subject again.
"I know," Jaune replied noncommittally.
"I can perform it again, if you'd like," he offered sincerely.
"No, I think I like making my own way," Jaune replied without a hint of bitterness.
"Speaking of, that wasn't the standard oath. Not like I remember at least."
"It felt right," he said simply, prompting a simple moment of peace between father and son, even with the excited chatter of nine women nearby.
"Yeah, I like yours better too," Renard said warmly, clapping his son on the shoulder and pointing him towards the rest of the family with a gentle nod of the head.
"Thanks, Dad."