Chapter 6
Trial By Fire
Jaune risked a glance down at the boy he was feverishly attempting to heal, seeing that the worst of his wounds were nearly closed, though still seeping what little blood he had left. He was groaning softly in pain, not quite conscious, but provably alive. But for the desperate circumstances, punctuated by the low thud of shells fired from Shadowbane in the nearby forest, Jaune could almost revel in the feeling of holding a life in his hands. As long as they could hear that, Olivia and Jaune knew their father was alive.
"You ever get used to waiting like this?" she asked him quietly, her frame tense as her eyes flicked back and forth through the treeline.
"Nope," Jaune replied easily, his pronunciation reminiscent of a pair of sisters who were unrelated by blood, yet still his family nonetheless.
A new sound could be heard now; short, gibbering yips heralding something decidedly not human making its way through the trees. Elena Râuri tensed, her own brown eyes already looking for targets for the blade-bearing pistols in her hands. She did not wait long.
Slipping from the forest, five of the laughing Grimm emerged, spread in a wide front. Eyes the color of hot coals regarding the prey before them, betraying a near indifference to the object of their eternal hunger. Vaguely canine and quadruped in form, yet unevenly so; massive, bulked shoulders rose nearly four feet at the withers, without taking into account the spikes of bone that added another foot of height, a solitary row running down the sloped spine of the Cacklers. The rear legs were a measure shorter, a short, brushy tail swaying lazily with each step as they spread out across a wide front. Solid bone armor provided excellent protection across the throat and wide chests of the beasts, a nearly uniform continuation of the white plates covered the shoulders, leaving the Cackler well-defended against a frontal attack. The flanks of the beasts were peppered with small bone plates as well, a darkly inverted mockery of some spotted dog. Long necks hung low, supporting skulls straight out of a nightmare. Black, rounded ears were the lone piece of darkness present, the entirety of the flesh that would be expected absent, instead replaced with bleached bone not unlike the lone Alpha Beowolf that was stalking out of the woods behind them. The muzzles were squat and broad, a pair of vicious, conical fangs at the upper corners, wickedly sharp and curving nearly four inches downward, the mandible sporting a single, upward-curving fang to match, the three of them meshing like Atlesian clockwork.
Jaune could only watch as they surrounded Elena, their Beowolf companion's tongue lolling slightly as the pack animals probed her defenses. Several dust rounds were shrugged off by the well armored beasts, who at all times kept their heads towards their target. A quick dash in by the Cackler behind her was met with a twisting somersault from Elena, both of her blades scissoring downwards at the apex of her low jump, slamming into both sides of the Grimm's skull to little effect. Had the blow been better placed, had she been less winded from the day's events, Elena would likely have decapitated the abomination, but instead it turned on her, shaking its skeletal head, round ears flopping like the hyena it resembled. Its companions, heads erect to watch the strike, slowly lowered them again, resuming their torturously slow stalk of the girl who Juane realized was now a good fifteen feet closer to where he stood.
Risking another quick glance at his charge, the blond knight could only pray that he'd done enough to stave off death for a few minutes longer, and Crocea Mors sung from its scabbard, the white heater shield assuming its rightful place on his forearm with practiced ease. "Keep him safe," he instructed Olivia before bolting towards the fight.
The Cacklers again attacked, with the two on Elena's flanks launching simultaneously. A split second decision later, the girl had again jumped over one of them, this time forgoing the melee strike in favor of dumping the remaining half dozen rounds in her revolvers into the flank and rump of the beast, managing to get enough rounds through the gaps in bone plating to inflict lethal damage. The Cackler inelegantly plowed skull-first into the loam, its companion in the attack having to sidestep the smoking Grimm even as it continued to accelerate towards Elena, leaping at her with jaws agape.
The Grimm managed to grab her left forearm, thankfully wedging the girl's wrist behind the wicked fangs, her deep pink aura straining as the jagged molars bore down upon her. The Cackler's weight came into play now, threatening to tear her down as the bestial Grimm began to thrash about, it's rear paws barely making contact with the ground. Her options dwindling quickly, Elena repeatedly slammed the point of her free weapon into the ribcage of the Cackler, just to the side of the sternum. The third strike finally bore fruit as it went slack and became two hundred pounds of slowly dissolving dead weight attached to her arm. This would have been cause for celebration but for the other three Cacklers, which had taken the opportunity to leap in also, one each latching on to her left thigh, right calf and right bicep, tugging insistently in opposite directions.
Elena nearly toppled completely, barely managing to maintain enough equilibrium to fall to her right knee instead. Desperately managing to fight free of the dead Cackler weighing her down, she tried to land a blow with her weakened left arm, the point of her blade doing nothing more than chip at the skull of the Grimm attached to her arm. Fearing the worst, Elena looked up just in time for the alpha Beowolf to grab her free arm in its massive paw, malevolent crimson eyes boring into her very soul as it examined its prey closely, its putrid breath redolent in her nose. Her eyes were wide at her impending doom, the massive Grimm before her savoring the scent of her fear like fine perfume before she heard a wet smack, which transitioned into a low-pitched, metallic ringing sound.
Daring to glance aside, she could see Crocea Mors, held high above Jaune's left side, having just risen to cleave the left haunch entirely free of the Cackler on her left. The briefest moment later, Jaune pivoted his wrist and swung down to his right, finding a small gap in the dorsal spines of Elena's other leg weight and dropping the blade of his heirloom sword halfway through the Grimm's neck, severing its spine. The sole remaining Cackler released its hold, realigning itself with the newest threat on the battlefield, even as its larger companion removed said threat with a quick spin, throwing one prey item into the other and launching them both back into the forge area. Thankfully they were saved from blasting completely through the wagons. Unthankfully, it was only by virtue of their impact with the substantial weight of the freestanding anvil, which teetered for a moment before falling down away from them.
Jaune's vision swam, obscured momentarily by a mane of sweat-weighted black hair before Elena slowly tumbled off of him. He could hear the tell-tale patter of small paws digging through the dirt at a full charge even if he couldn't actually see it yet. A blob of brown and white occupied his vision a moment later before it was knocked much closer to him, with a hulking black and white body behind that. Blinking twice, his vision cleared, and what he now saw drove him into a near panic.
Olivia Arc was engaged in a brutal test of strength against the Cackler, which outweighed her by nearly a hundred pounds. The beast had its jaw jammed full of the young huntress' right hand, the steel basket guard being the only thing that kept those massive fangs from turning her hand into mulch. With her off hand, Olivia tried to breach the frontal bone armor of the Cackler, but lacked the strength and Aura control to do so, her frustration showing in the wordless grunts and shouts she was giving off as her feet slid slowly backward towards her brother.
"Gun!" Jaune shouted, reminding her of the options at her disposal.
Olivia's eyes went wide as she heard it, and with a barked laugh, yanked the trigger back. The Atlesian pistol performed precisely as advertised, a loud burst of gunfire chattering away as the weapon ran through the entire extended magazine in under two seconds. The first seven rounds tore chunks out of the interior of the Cackler's throat, and the remaining fifteen chewed into and through the spine of the beast, a geyser of black ichor and bone fragments erupting from the back of its neck six inches behind the skull. Olivia yanked her weapon from her opponent's rapidly disintegrating jaws, resuming a shaky combat stance.
Jaune staggered to his feet, offering a brief glance to the elder Huntress present and seeing her breathing, at the very least. "Reload. Mag release is under your thumb," Jaune barked, trying to keep his sister as combat ready as possible as the Beowolf began loping towards them. He strode forward, getting his shield between the four of them and the lone threat remaining, before he realized with a start that his sword wasn't in his hand any longer. "Shit," he summed up succinctly as Olivia again fumbled with the unfamiliar act of reloading the pistol under stress. "Stay behind me. Take the shot if you have it," he added, trotting forward to meet the alpha before it could get close to the wagons and the three Tiganii he was charged with defending.
Jaune had barely cleared the canopy above the wagons when he caught motion in his peripheral vision. Oddly enough, the Beowolf stopped short at the same time as he did, the both of them looking to the small group of actual wolves gathered near the door where Magda Râuri had last been seen.
"Oh, you gotta be shittin' me," Jaune groaned, his sword hand gathering Olivia behind him as the assembled wolves began to growl, hackles raised and teeth bared for a moment before they moved as one. Jaune could only stare in wonder as the wolf pack laid into the Beowolf with bestial fury. They seemed offended at the mere existence of the dark mockery of their lupine form, two of them immediately latching onto the Grimm's left arm while the rest attempted to hamstring the beast. Were it some large game animal, the assault would have dropped it where it stood, but the Alpha had options, and these were exercised quickly. A bony muzzle clamped down hard on one of the wolves dangling from its inky black arm, yanking it free and shaking the lupine viciously before flinging it into the Arc siblings, the hundred fifty pound animal knocking them both down easily. To Jaune's surprise, the wolf shook itself off briefly and regained its footing, moving faster than the animal had any right to as it jumped into the fray again.
The impact of wolf on Grimm spun the beast around nearly a full circle as a half ton of grey-furred anger tugged limbs in awkward directions, the Alpha Beowolf staggering as it tried to free itself. Olivia tried in vain to find a clear shot, but the brawl was far too chaotic to offer it to her. Instead, she kept station behind her brother as Jaune kept himself between the wagons and the Grimm, his mind trying to formulate a plan that didn't end up with the four of them getting eaten.
Adding to the chaos already present, Jaune heard the deep, bass rhythm of hoofbeats, the horses apparently scattering...towards them? He could only stand slack jawed as a pair of the draft horses rounded the end of the wagons, the first wheeling in front of the Beowolf before lashing out with its hind hooves. The strike caught the abomination square on the jaw, snapping the mandible in half and flipping the Grimm on its back. With the wolves now pinning it down, and its spines firmly lodged into the forest floor, both horses got to work, repeatedly rearing up and raining down blows with steel-shod hooves the size of dinner plates. In the span of twenty seconds, thuds transitioned to cracks, which then gave way to a sickening squelching sound when the Beowolf's head was reduced to pulp. The assault only stopped when the beast was clearly disintegrating, the mixed group of animals backing away from the smoking corpse.
"Nobody's gonna believe me," Jaune muttered softly, immediately regretting it as the wolf pack turned as one, looking directly at him. "Niiiice doggies," he said with a nervous grin, backing away slowly as they began to growl with the sound of distant thunder, hackles raised menacingly.
"Mercur!" came a loud shout, one of the wolves perking its ears as it turned, calling Jaune's attention to the treeline as Casian Râuri and Renard Arc emerged from the forest. Their hair and clothing were mussed, but not overly so, as if the balance of the Grimm were nothing but a minor inconvenience, rather than the near death experience that had been Jaune's fight. The wolves wheeled as one, trotting over to the Râuri patriarch with their tails wagging eagerly. The two Huntsmen were conversing idly, Renard laughing at something the other had said before he recoiled slightly at the animals casually advancing upon them. Casian simply knelt, allowing the pack alpha to approach, a single half-drooped ear pinned back with its mate as the vicious animal licked at the Tigan's chin almost affectionately.
"I knew something was going on with them," Renard stated flatly as he watched the scene unfold.
"My family doesn't only walk on two legs," Casian replied, ruffling the wolf's head fur before resuming his jog back to the wagons, the wolves following as if on the hunt. He quickly came to Jaune, who simply nodded towards the forge in response to the man's tense, unspoken question. Casian quickly moved past him, cradling his son's head in his arms. The boy's eyes opened, and he grunted in pain, his ordeal not yet over. His wounds were largely closed, though the blood still present painted a gory picture. "Nicolai?" Casian asked, almost in disbelief at what his eyes were telling him.
"Papa?" he replied, still in shock as Casian embraced him fiercely.
"Credeam că te-am pierdut!" he said, voice muffled by the top of his son's head, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. A soft whine was heard as the droop-eared wolf laid his head in the boy's lap before a bloody hand gave the animal a gentle head pat. Jaune could only smile at the reunion, made better when Elena managed to groggily regain her feet and join in hugging the boy, the trio surrounded by their four-legged companions.
"You drop something?" Renard asked from behind him, his son turning to find the huntsman with Shadowbane holstered on his back, and Crocea Mors' hilt in his left hand.
"Was wondering where that had gotten to," Jaune replied sheepishly, collapsing his shield and replacing it on his belt before taking the proffered weapon from his father and slipping it back into its scabbard. "I got knocked all the way across the clearing," he muttered, clearly abashed.
"It happens," Renard replied, Jaune's eyebrows arching in surprise at the man's magnanimity before he held up Elena's weapons as well. "Are you two all right?" he asked.
"Bumps and bruises maybe, dad. Olivia saved my bacon," Jaune freely admitted, subconsciously putting his team leadership skills to use.
"Oh, really?" Ren asked in surprise.
"Yup!" Jaune affirmed, the girl in question shaking off her adrenaline crash for a moment before separating from her brother.
"How are you feeling, Liv?" He asked, voicing concern and warmth.
"I… that was intense. Way different than class," she conceded, trembling slightly.
"Hold on, Dad," Jaune added, clasping his father's hand and letting what remained of his aura flow into the older man. "Perimeter check," he clarified.
Renard closed his eyes, concentrating and pushing himself further than he dared hope possible. A low whistle escaped his lips as his posture relaxed. "Clear out to at least five miles. I have to say, I'd love to see what you could do with a few of my old friends," he said warmly.
"I didn't get much chance to experiment before the end of the school year, but yeah, things can get pretty intense," he added, shuddering at the memory of Glynda Goodwitch effortlessly levitating a pair of Bullhead transports without the aircraft actually running.
"Did you two learn anything?" Renard asked of his children.
"Don't fight Cacklers alone," Jaune summed up easily. The beasts were consummate pack hunters, and their narrower bodies made them far more able than even Beowolves to drown a lone Huntsman in numbers. "If I hadn't been there, Elena would be dead. Or vice versa," he added, not giving weight to either option being the more likely one.
"Olivia?"
"Know your weapons. I was scared beyond belief trying to reload this thing under stress," she admitted without shame. "I'm sold, by the way," she added, holding up her right hand weapon for inspection. The basket hilt was barely scratched from the abuse it had suffered, and that was without her using aura to reinforce it. "Ugly sumbitch tried to eat her. They had a bad time," she continued with a little swagger in her voice.
Renard thoughtfully examined the katar, noting the dust residue pattern around the pistol's compensator. "How's the recoil?" He asked.
"Don't know. Cackler was holding on to it the whole time," she replied honestly.
"Might want to test that out before you make a decision, then," her father gently reminded her.
Before she could answer with a no doubt petulantly teenaged response, they were interrupted by a teary eyed Casian, approaching the group once again. Without a word, his right hand clasped Jaune's in an unusual manner, his fingers curling into Jaune's and leaving their thumbs exposed. Before he could remark about the odd choice of times to declare a thumb war, Casian produced a small dagger with his left hand. The Tigan quickly placed the tip of the blade between their thumbs, pressing forward forcefully with his own before he yanked the dagger away. Caught by surprise, and thus unable to utilize his nearly depleted aura properly, Jaune could only hiss as the razor-sharp blade cut into the flesh of both men, drawing a hiss of pain from the knight's throat as the older of the two pressed his bleeding digit against the younger's. Casian's dark eyes locked onto Jaune's own, the gravity of his words easily transcending the language barrier.
"Sângele tău este sângele meu, vatră mea te va hrăni mereu și vei găsi pentru totdeauna adăpost cu familia mea," he said, releasing the boy's hand to embrace him fully, placing an enthusiastic kiss on both of his cheeks and a third on his forehead. "Infiat," he pronounced finally, clapping the boy's back eagerly as he continued to hug him. "Thank you, Jaune. So very, very much. You're staying for tea," he added, a statement of fact rather than a question.
"Umm, sure?" Jaune replied, rubbing his thumb once he had been released.
"Excellent!" Casian exclaimed with a beaming smile, pacing off to inform his wife of the good news.
"What just happened?" Jaune finally asked of his father. "I didn't get married or something, did I?"
"No," Elena declared flatly as she approached with her limping brother in tow. "I don't like blonds," she clarified, the Arcs somehow understanding that Casian repeatedly attempting to wed his daughter off was a thing. "Besides, you're effectively my brother now," she added, smirking softly before placing a pair of perfunctory kisses on his cheeks like her father had. Elena couldn't help but giggle lightly at the blush she'd induced.
"I believe these are yours, young lady?" Renard piped up, Jaune silently thanking his father for breaking up the awkwardness.
"Thank you," she said graciously, taking the pair of weapons from his grasp. A quick button press and flick of the wrist later, she'd swung open the revolver cylinders and dumped the empty casings on the ground. She holstered them both with the cylinders still open, pulling two speed loaders from a small pouch on her belt and inserting them with practiced ease. A simple click later and the now empty devices were dropped into her pocket, her fingertips pressing the newly loaded cylinders back into place. With that, the five of them headed back towards the wagons, Nicolai swept off his feet by his mother the moment she came outside, fussing over him as only a mother could. The Tiganii and their animals were left to their moment, Renard placing his hand on his children's shoulders as they stood slightly apart.
"That's why we do what we do," he pronounced simply, adding one final lesson to the morning for the both of his children.
A full morning and afternoon of tea, camaraderie, haggling, and a quick bout of weapon modification later, the three Arcs were on their way back to Shion. Olivia was practically skipping the whole way, even under the not inconsiderable weight of Fang and Claw sheathed on her thighs. A wide brown leather belt held a magazine carrier with for six reloads of her pistol as well as slots for vials of dust, which lay empty for the time being. Jaune was again wearing Trandafir on his belt, something which felt more natural now for some reason. Granted, Casian had basically adopted him, his own family notwithstanding, but the ease with which he walked the forest path felt wrong somehow. The good kind of wrong, certainly, but out of place nonetheless.
"Dad?"
"Mercur and the others are escorting us into town. Just in the treeline on your left," Renard reassured him.
"Knew something felt off." Jaune admitted. "Damnedest semblance I've ever seen." He added. "I mean, I've seen Ruby's dog actually kill Grimm, just never occurred to me you could unlock the aura of other animals."
"There's no way those four horses could pull that kind of load otherwise," Renard countered.
"Or stomp an Alpha Beowolf into a pulp," Jaune added.
"Or that, yes," Renard nodded. "Still can't believe you got your first kill so young, Liv," he added with a grin in his voice and on his face.
"I thought you were killing Grimm in kindergarten, Dad?" she replied.
"I may have... exaggerated that part. A little bit," Renard admitted of his tall tales.
"I might have been… joking," she replied sarcastically, mirroring her father's diction.
"Smartass," he fired back, mussing her already unkempt hair.
"So when do we start training, Dad?" she asked, directly as always.
"I can train you in certain aspects of being a Huntress; Aura control, Grimm lore, fieldcraft and the like, but your weapons are a bit outside my style," he added. "You can probably find someone with a similar style when you get to combat school."
"I know someone who can help, Liv. Lemme see your scroll for a second," Jaune asked, getting the device from his sister and transferring a contact before handing it back.
"We don't have reception, dork-o," Olivia snarked.
"Well, when you do, give her a buzz. Yang Xiao Long. You'll like her. She's a boxer, uses shotgun gauntlets similar to your weapons," he added, hoping that putting his short-tempered sister in touch with his even more short-tempered friend wasn't a huge mistake.
"Speaking of weapons, first thing we do when we get back is spend the rest of the day going over weapons maintenance," Renard interjected.
"But, Daaaad," Olivia replied petulantly.
"No buts. Mister Râuri gave us a frankly ridiculous discount on those things. Not to mention what he's going to be doing with Crocea Mors. As obviously excellent as those katars are, I wouldn't have batted an eyelash to pay twenty thousand for the pair, and he gave them to us for five. Which means that if you neglect your weapons and they break, it'll cost an arm and a leg to fix them. And that's if they don't literally cost you an arm and a leg when they break in the field," her father admonished.
Sufficiently cowed, the younger Arc chose to stomp off a short distance ahead, drawing her blades and slowly working through some of her more basic Savate forms as she walked down the forest path.
"Jaune…" Renard began, hesitating either out of pride or a simple inability to properly voice his thoughts.
"Yeah, Dad?"
"You did well today. You've got a sharp mind in between your ears, if nothing else. The rest will come in time," he stated with a little warmth in his voice.
"Thanks, Dad," Jaune replied simply, a small glimmer of hope flickering at the edge of his vision.
"So, how's Beacon?" Renard asked innocuously enough, as if he'd known and believed his son all along.
"It's...it's been good for me. I was such an idiot when I got there, didn't have the slightest clue as to what I was doing, but I learned. Had to scratch and claw for it, and got my butt whipped into shape by a lot of my friends, but I wouldn't do anything different. Well, okay, maybe a couple things," he demurred, recalling his disastrous courtship of Weiss Schnee.
"I can only hope you keep your friends the whole way through school. My path through Beacon was one heartache after another, son," Renard concluded with a weary sigh.
"I know," Jaune affirmed, voice soft and sympathetic. The two men walked on in silence for several moments before Renard spoke again.
"So what was your first kill?" He asked, trying to make conversation if nothing else.
"Solo? Ursa Major during a field trip to Forever Fall," he answered easily, his thoughts lingering for a brief moment on Cardin of all people. Seeing him helplessly pinned under the rubble at Beacon was certainly an image he never thought would come to pass.
"Nice," His father replied in admiration. "So how far did your team get with Fred?"
"Who?" Jaune asked, bewildered at the topic shift.
"You know, the Fred Challenge. Or are they not allowing the graduating seniors to mess with the freshmen anymore?"
"What?" Jaune sputtered, now even more confused.
"Well, when I went through Beacon, the graduating class would challenge the first years. Fred is the biggest, nastiest Grimm in the Emerald Forest. All the first years would be shown the entrance to a large cave. We even painted it up with all sorts of warning glyphs on the walls to make it look even scarier. That, and keep the more idiotic initiates away. So anyway, you'd have to walk into the cave, and whichever team got the furthest in there without having a team member turn back would be the winner of the Fred Challenge that year. Sounds kind of stupid when you say it out loud, but it's a tradition, damn it. Or was, apparently," Renard grumbled softly.
"You named an elder Deathstalker the size of a small house 'Fred'?" Jaune blurted in disbelief.
"Well, he came with the name...wait, I thought you didn't know about the Fred Challenge." Renard redirected. "They didn't rename him, did they? Damn political correctness," he muttered angrily.
"Umm, if they did, I never heard about it," Jaune replied, scratching at the back of his neck nervously. "Besides. We...kind of...killed him?" he added sheepishly.
"You...what?" Renard asked.
"My team. Accidentally riled him up during initiation and he eventually chased us back to the Beacon cliffs. Ren and Pyrrha managed to cut off the stinger, and Nora smashed it through his head before he went over the cliff," his son concluded, a nervous grimace on his face at telling what would, under normal circumstances, be a ridiculous tale.
"Either you've gotten a lot better at lying to my face...or...your team is ridiculously good."
"My team, to quote Nora, is 'fuckin' awesome!'" Jaune said with a small measure of pride, despite how little awesomeness he contributed personally.
Renard chuckled softly through a smile. "Can't wait to meet her."
The two Arc men fell into a comfortable silence as they made their way back to Shion, receiving one last flop-eared glance from Mercur at the edge of the woods before the four legged Tiganii retreated.
Jaune and Renard found the rest of their family at the inn easily enough, Olivia excitedly describing their exploits of the afternoon to anyone who would listen. This apparently included Rose Arc, who shot a dark glower at her husband from across the lobby.
"For future reference, don't go into detail about missions with your mother," he whispered to his son.
"Yikes," Jaune whispered back through a nervous grin.
"Renard, my darling, it is so good to have you all back in one piece," his mother said with a tight smile on her face, clearly holding back anger at her little girl being thrown into danger with such reckless irresponsibility.
"Honey, I…" Ren stammered, clearly terrified.
"I mean, Terra here has been waiting patiently all morning to talk to you, isn't that right, dear?" she asked the lone in-law in the room.
"Umm, oh, right!" Terra blurted, her own fear of her mother-in-law something new, the woman's restrained wrath indeed terrible to behold. Standing with a little difficulty, she ambled he pregnant self over to stand in front of Renard, taking a deep breath before speaking. "Mister Arc, Saphron and I love each other very much, and I would like to ask for your blessing to marry your daughter," she said with barely a waver in her voice.
"Wait, what?"
"We do feel bad about not having you all at the wedding, so we're having a do over," Saphron piped up. "Plus Shion is having their Shèngxià Festival in two days, and Terra and I will be getting wed as part of the celebration. They usually do a mock wedding with a young couple in costume, but since there's someone actually needing to get hitched, the village is more than happy to accommodate," she said with bubbly enthusiasm.
"I...Well, if my lovely and wonderful wife thinks this is a good idea, who am I to argue?" The elder huntsman concluded sagely.
"Good answer." Rose shot back, her eyes narrowed.