Jaune idly shuffled through the locker room, trying to remember where his gear was. It'd be one hell of a thing to get this far and then… fail because he couldn't find his sword, shield, or armor before Initiation! How would he explain that to his family? Or, he shuddered, to his Aunt?
But while looking, he happened to see Weiss—the white haired girl who had been… less than enthused about meeting him the previous day—who was talking to a red-haired girl who looked really familiar, but he just couldn't place it. Well, Ruby and Yang had been talking about teams this morning, and Jaune really couldn't spend all day just awkwardly lurking in the background, so he might as well introduce himself!
Remember what Auntie Salem told you… Girls want confidence and… and remember what Ms. Fall told you—if you start using pickup lines on random students, you'll get your eyes torn out of their sockets with a rusty fork.
Boy, that had been a… surprisingly intense conversation she'd had with Aunt Salem's friend in Vale. Jaune had thought she'd just be telling him about, like, what restaurants were good and what places were tourist traps, not… handed a loaded pistol and an emergency escape plan "should your cover be blown." But… Aunt Salem was a strange and powerful woman, so it only made sense her friends were also somewhat… intense.
Mr. Torchwick seemed nice enough at least! Jaune hadn't even realized he was the guy who'd gotten him the forged transcripts in the first place. But he'd been really nice and helpful on the whole "here's what you need to know about Vale" front, and Jaune was hoping to take him up on his offer to get lunch together some time. But he'd put him up in a really nice hotel for the evening and made Jaune feel very welcome, and Jaune especially liked his… well, he wasn't really sure what relationship Mr. Torchwick had with Ms. Politan, but she was really nice, especially when he let her know he could sign!
His first day at Beacon had gone surprisingly well, aside from… the flight. He'd met Ruby, who was very nice, Yang, who was… hard to read, and Weiss, who was a little… brusque. And carrying explosives. But with Ruby and Yang clearly having a family conversation that Jaune knew to butt out of, Weiss was the only person Jaune kind of knew so far, so he might as well say hi and try to make a better impression than he'd made the night before.
And maybe he'd get introduced to Weiss's friend, the tall, red-haired girl who looked so familiar to Jaune he was kicking himself he just couldn't place where. She wasn't Valean, that was for sure, but outside of comic books, Jaune didn't really know that many people from the wider world. The perils of a provincial life, he supposed. But she looked nice, and Jaune just had to be confident! And to not forget what Ms. Fall had told him, with the whole rusty fork part!
After all, as his mom always said, a stranger's just a friend you haven't met! Or as Aunt Salem put it, the unknown can always be an asset to the ambitious!
"Hi there!" he announced to the two of them, "I'm Jaune, Jaune Arc, short, sweet-"
"How wonderful to meet you, Jaune!" the redhead replied, with… surprising eagerness. "I'm Pyrrha Nikos, of Mistral. Have you, by chance, put any thought to whose team you were planning to be on?"
Jaune just… blinked in surprise. As did Weiss. Between the two of them, their eyes communicated that neither of them knew what to make of this moment. "I… guess?" he answered, lamely, "I mean, I wouldn't mind if a lovely lady such as yourself," shit shit shit abort you idiot rusty fork, rusty fork! "were to be interested in-"
"You wouldn't mind being partnered with Pyrrha Nikos?" Weiss suddenly exploded, "Don't you know who she is?"
Jaune looked at Pyrrha in horror. Oh hell, he knew he had recognized her from somewhere! "...No?"
"She graduated top of her class in-"
"That's not important," Pyrrha smoothly interrupted as she stepped closer to Jaune, placing herself between him and Weiss, "What matters is, you're looking for someone on your team, and I can assure you, I believe we could make an excellent team. I do hope you would be open to partnering with me. I'm sure we can have..." she gave him a long look, "a very good time at Beacon together."
Weiss just gave the two of them a scandalized look that Jaune could tell had an equal measure of disbelief as it did incredulous fury that, evidently, Pyrrha hadn't been quite this positive towards being on the same team as her. Or… forward about it. Which made Jaune feel even weirder because, really, he'd only just shown up with forged transcripts, and, frankly, Weiss would probably make a much better partner than him.
Which made Pyrrha kind of scary. Kind of a lot scary. Especially with the way her eyes... yeah, Jaune was getting uncomfortable.
Fortunately, a loudspeaker announced that it was time for them to head to the cliffs which broke off this intensely awkward conversation, leaving Jaune to hope that maybe the rest of his day would go more normally. Oh, and that he'd pass initiation… oh hell, he had to find his sword!
The mission was going well. Very well.
Particularly for Pyrrha.
Pyrrha truly believed in their Immortal Queen and the inevitability of her reign over Remnant, the first step of ushering in an age of peace and prosperity, saving them all from the corrupt and wretched world of the Kingdoms. She believed because she felt it was her destiny to play a role in one day bringing balance to the world. But she also believed in Salem because of the community she had found in the underground world they existed in, where the secrecy forced them to closeness, and the taboo criminality of what they did created a space where even Pyrrha could open up. Salemism had been so good to Pyrrha and she was delighted to be an instrument of her Queen's divine will.
But to wrap up the entirety of her faith into a single package and to make that package a cute boy?
Oh, you better believe that Pyrrha was a believer!
Yes, she might have just had to pin Jaune to a tree to get him to survive Initiation, but Pyrrha wasn't about to question her Goddess's judgment. Her scrumptious Sauvignon was Salem's Chosen, and so it didn't matter who he might be where Pyrrha's order's were concerned.
Cutting through the forest was quick work—Pyrrha had been trained in more skills than what might be expected from most Tournament fighters, owing to being part of an illegal underground cult—and she was making excellent progress ducking through the woods in the direction of Jaune. She had two priorities—first, to always ensure his safety, second, to ensure she was his partner so she could better protect and train him. And on that note…
She heard someone cutting through the brush, clumsily. They were moving parallel with Pyrrha's direction, and so she knew that they were on course to encounter Jaune. Not good—she could probably outpace them, but she knew the forest was opening up ahead—if they made eye contact, that was a critical mission failure.
Glancing at the student, he seemed to be a gaudily dressed man with some kind of ridiculous guitar-chainsaw thing that immediately told Pyrrha that the young man was not nearly deserving to take Pyrrha's spot as Sauvignon's partner. The idea was blasphemy itself, and it curdled in her mind to imagine it. Action had to be taken. Now.
The school had surveillance in the woods, Pyrrha knew that before she was even thrown down here, but with Master Rainart's teaching, it was child's play to pick the cameras out. A little bit of Polarity and… down went the camera. Excellent, it would give her the perfect window to do this.
Akouo came crashing down on the student's head. It wouldn't kill him, just knock him out for a little bit. Aura would have him back on his feet even before the cameras came back on. Master Rainart would be quite proud of her efficiency, but he'd also tell her not to rest on her laurels. She needed to keep moving.
Fortunately, he wasn't far. Pyrrha knew where she'd pinned him with Milo, and she knew just as well how to cross terrain like this in a hurry. Even before her training with Master Rainart, she practiced in the woods of Mistral with other cultists, training for what to do if the authorities ever caught on to them, and she thought of her present mission like it was just one of those drills. A Brother was down in the field, and she had to rendezvous and secure him before anyone else got a chance. Pyrrha loved these drills. It was the one place where she could truly cut loose and not hold back, using all the tricks at her disposal. Didn't have to play clean like she did when it was a tournament, and the feeling was liberating.
Breaking into a clearing, she saw her sweet Sauvignon suspended from a tree trunk. Heaven's blessings, he was cute. One look, and Pyrrha knew that she had found what she was looking for.
Not in a romantic way, of course—that would almost certainly be blasphemous to assert herself to Queen Salem's own Chosen!—but, if he was interested… well, Pyrrha would, of course, carry out any task he put before her, or any way she could serve his needs. Any way at all.
Stepping into the clearing before the tree, she immediately pledged her eternal devotion and servitude to him as she helped him down… well, not quite so overtly.
"Hello again!" she said with a cheerful wave to her pinned protectee.
"Oh, Pyrrha," he sighed in relief. "I was worried a Beowulf would get me!"
Pyrrha had speared him higher on the tree just to avoid such a circumstance, but Jaune didn't need to know that. Especially because it was also to keep him from moving away from her. Best not tell him that before he no longer had a reason to want to get away from her.
"Need some help?" she asked, activating her Semblance as she pulled out Milo from the tree. Jaune made a sudden cry as he fell, but Pyrrha dutifully caught him in her arms, briefly cradling him and feeling the rough texture of his muscles… especially how tight his cute little butt was!
"Um… Pyrrha?" he asked.
"Yes Jaune?" she replied, dreamily.
"Will you… let me down?"
"Of course, my l- Of course, Jaune."
Setting him down she made a point to cut a half-pose, the sort of carefully constructed look she'd been taught to be making whenever she was on camera but not in combat. The kind where she looked good, but in a way that also looked accidental, like she wasn't really trying, she just happened to look like a supermodel as an aside. Though with Jaune… it didn't seem that necessary.
Pyrrha knew she was gorgeous, she had enough creepy websites to confirm it. She had no doubt she cut a radiant figure in the clearing, her crimson hair glowing in the sunlight that filtered through the glade. Her sun-dappled skin was on display, and she was flaunting every asset she had to make sure she was… pleasing to her Goddess's Chosen.
"I… uh…" he stammered, inarticulately. Good, Pyrrha was confident she was making a good first impression. "I guess we should… be going to go get those relics, huh?"
"Please, Jaune," she said in a breathy purr, "Just lead the way."
All of Ren's life was lived in a state of balance. Not only in embracing the misunderstood darkness in a world choked with hypocritical light, but in times like these, in the Emerald Forest, where Ren balanced his quiet, gentle side with these opportunities to delight in being a ruthless killer.
A King Taijutu briefly stood in his way, but Ren's blades easily sliced the creature open. Regrettably, it had to be a quick kill—he was on the clock after all—but it was satisfying to feel Stormflower in his hands, the pressure against the scaly armor until he found the exact right point to press with his aura, the body of the serpent suddenly giving way to his blades. A shame they didn't bleed, but he'd likely have opportunities for that later.
After that, reaching Nora was easy—she wasn't exactly a hard person to find, especially when she had full permission to use Magnhild however she wanted. Also kept other interlopers away, fearful of being partnered with the woman firing grenades while bellowing a sloth call. The two of them together commandeered an Ursa, as Uncle Tyrian taught them, and from there, it should be smooth sailing to Sauvignon and Victory. For once, it was Ren who wanted to hurry, to directly see how good Victory was. He'd seen her Tournament tape—who hadn't—but Uncle Tyrian had told him not to count that worth anything. She'd been trained by Hazel Rainart, and according to Tyrian, there was a dirty fighter hidden beneath her precise Tournament-sanctioned moves. Whether or not she was a killer, Ren didn't know, but she was a fighter already good enough at seventeen for the Goddess's attention: she was good.
"Oh boy oh boy oh boy!" Nora cried, "That's them, Renny, and they're being chased by a big monster!"
A Deathstalker. Hmm, that'd be a tough fight for new students… but a good chance to get a feeling for Victory's talents as well as a chance to show off… perhaps, earn a bit of Sauvignon's favor? Victory was to be his personal assistant, but surely, Sauvignon would want a bro… it wouldn't be bad to get in good with the Chosen as early as he could...
"Nora," he whispered, "switch to student mode, downplay your abilities, don't let Sauvignon know how good you are-"
"Awww," Nora pouted.
But Ren knew how to sweeten the deal. "Just don't aim," he advised, and Nora immediately cheered up.
For whatever reason, Sauvignon wasn't a Salemist. And he was to be kept in the dark about the True Faith and, more importantly, that he was protected by agents of the Goddess. A reasonable choice, in Ren's opinion, to help give him a sense of normalcy. But still, they had to play down that they were anything other than ordinary students, and not just to keep the faculty off their tails.
They rushed to the chessboard, Ren "distracting" the Deathstalker with a few carelessly aimed shots as Victory escorted Sauvignon to the ruin. A nod to Nora told her to grab her piece as well, and then Ren was off to rally with the rest of the group, trading pot shots along with Victory to keep the Deathstalker at bay.
"Do you... have a gun?" he asked Sauvignon, hoping his question wouldn't be taken as impertinence.
"Ummm... No?" he answered with an awkward shrug. It... didn't take a trained assassin to notice that Sauvignon, while holding the favor of the Queen of the World, was not familiar with the weight of his sword and shield. This... might be a problem.
But there'd be time for that later. A quick glance confirmed that Victory had grabbed a castle, and so did Nora (and he was relieved to see it was the same color as Victory's, just as they'd practiced). Ren noted that there was also another group here, a future team of four girls—including the SDC heiress and the two who had been around Sauvignon on the first day. An interesting group, but they split off quickly to deal with a Nevermore that was chasing them. Ren, though, made a note of them; he had a suspicion he'd see more of them later. For now, though, all that mattered was the four of them and a giant scorpion.
They broke away from the ruin to try to find a spot to calibrate just how much difficulty two professional assassins and a virtuoso of violence should have with an elder Grimm. Nora was wildly firing Magnhild, and Ren joined, their shots having little effect on the creature's armor. It hurt him to play dumb, but-
KA-PINCH!
A bullet whizzed through the air and lodged deep in the Deathstalker's tail. Ren shot a discreet, but harsh, glare towards Victory, her rifle still smoking from the shot.
"Sorry," she mumbled, quietly. Evidently, the Invincible Girl wasn't used to missing.
But Sauvignon hadn't noticed. At least, he hadn't noticed their deception.
"Pyrrha!" he gasped, "That's it! You and Ren, focus fire on the stinger to get it loose, Nora-"
But Ren wasn't listening. Ren wasn't sure he could listen, because suddenly, something came over him. Something… religious.
Ren had never met the Goddess in person. Uncle Tyrian had, however, and he described the first time he looked upon the Godhead with his own eyes, he felt such a serene state of purpose, it was like the world became quiet and a blinding light filled all he could see. His senses failed as only the singular reality of their Goddess's divine perfection commanded his mind.
That was what Ren felt right now, with Sauvignon's command echoing in his ears: focus fire on the stinger.
Nothing else mattered—Ren's eyes saw with more clarity than ever before, his hands were steadier, as the two of them fired round after round, effortlessly blasting the stinger free. Ren was an expert marksman with Stormflower, he trained religiously (and quite literally so, as a devotion to his Blessed Queen), but he had never shot so well before!
As his senses cleared, Ren blinked in surprise, only to hear Nora's warcry, somehow louder than ever before as she bounded forward and smashed the detached stinger through the armor… with force enough that the stinger was irrelevant, the entire creature buckled under Nora's swing as she bashed it into bits.
They hadn't… they weren't supposed to have used their skills to their fullest, that was their… their orders...
Ren realized that everything he had assumed about the mission was woefully incorrect. He had thought of Sauvignon as a VIP, as an ordinary young man who held the Goddess's favor and needed to be protected. But he wasn't. He was so much more. He was the Chosen of a Goddess, and her Sovereign Rule of the world entire belonged to him, too. His orders were divine commandments, enacted upon the world.
There were no words for it, nothing more than pure, religious awe. Ren struggled not to genuflect, to show his devotion publicly, as the residual energy of his command still coursed through Ren's veins, like leftover adrenaline. Victory seemed to be overcome with a tremendous blush, her face flushed, breathing heavily as Sauvignon whooped in joy at the success of his plan. Nora was… also whooping in joy as she continued to bust apart the disintegrating remnants of the Deathstalker.
Her devotion was always more… more like Uncle Tyrian's kind of worship.
But in that moment, feeling the touch of divinity itself, Ren knew that he would do whatever was commanded of him, even up to the gates of Hell itself, in his service to his Goddess's Chosen. Even to the point of doing to the unthinkable.
He looked to Jaune and gave him a big smile. And to show the sincere depths of his commitment, he even laughed.
There's actually even more to Jaune's Semblance than just an amped up version of his regular Semblance, but that's for future chapters. Needless to say, Salem gave her favorite nephew an OP as hell Semblance that he's only vaguely aware of how to use. Fortunately, he has a group of elite, fanatically devoted cultists to teach him how to use his powers for good. Surely, they'll be a good influence on him.
Thanks to Renarde for feedback on this chapter!