Year One
Chapter I: Initiation, Pt.1
The old ships which rested in the harbor outside of Vale's Historical Museum groaned as they were hit by a heavy wind. On the adjoining docks, various shipping crates lay spread out, showing none of the signs of movement which the moored ships displayed. As the cold light of the autumn sun touched down, reaching over the eastern cliffs and skyscrapers to bring illumination, a lone woman looked out to the ocean, her eyes closed as she rested amidst the cargo.
As the winds gave their final, dying sigh, her hair, which shimmered in a haze of rainbow colors, gave its last flicker, before finally resting. Her eyes were closed, though with regards to her face, they were all that could be seen, for she wore a white mask, designed after the skull of a deer, and with the imposing antlers to match.
"Hey!" called up a voice from below, prompting the woman to slowly stir, and turn her head to stare down. Below her stood a portly dock worker, his working class attire providing a sharp contrast to the elegant, white robes she wore.
After a few moments of her questioning stare, which left the man quite visibly taken aback, she asked him, "Do you every wonder why they built the city of Vale on the western coast?"
"Excuse me?" he said. "No, I haven't. And what are you even doing here? This is private property."
"I've wondered." she replied, ignoring him, and turning out to the ocean. "Every time I looked out, to the western seas. Every time I sat on the shoreline, and never saw the sun rise."
"Look lady, I just need you to leave."
"So I read into history." she continued, still unmoved by the man's intrusions. "I learned of the cities which once stood to the east. I learned of how each and every one of them fell to the Grimm. Only Vale, behind its cliffs, managed to survive. But to the east, there are no cliffs. There are simply open beaches, where grains of sand run through your bare feet, the air is clean and smells of salt, and the ocean waves are always there to greet you along with the rising sun."
"If you like it so much, go back. Or anywhere but here. Please?"
"But that's the problem, is it not?" she said, her tone of voice shifting to a more direct one as she turned to him. "For under those sands, they are always there. Within the ocean, they are always there. Further inland, they are always there. Always watching. Always hating us; hating humanity."
The woman dropped from the high crate she stood upon, and began approaching the man. "Tell me, if you could give anything to stop them... would you?"
The worker was no small man, being shaped by years of hard labor and effort. However, now that the woman was no longer sitting out of reach, it was quite clear that she was the far more imposing of the two; while not nearly as broad, she was much taller. Further, under the shadows of the crates, her sleek white mask of bone gave off an eerie look.
He took a step back, but he was far too slow to react as her hand shot towards him; he flinched, fearing attack. Yet to his surprise, rather than reaching for his neck, she simply rested her hand upon his shoulder. He stared into her eyes; violet, tinged with gold, and with that slight look of resignation so common to those who suffer from grief.
"You don't need to answer that." she said, giving a warm but nevertheless unnerving smile. "There are few who could, and fewer still those who would do it honestly. It is, after all, a terrible burden to recognize the world's dangers. Greater still is the burden to combat it. But it is a burden I have chosen to bear. I know what must be given. And you? You shall help me."
"You strong? That's great, I'm not much for weights, myself. Why don't you carry my stuff, and I'll carry yours? Big guy like you should have no trouble with that, but it wouldn't be fair I stood around and did nothing. Would you really? Thanks."
Clancey gave a quick glance behind him, looking to see who the participants were in the unusual discussion. Not far behind him, a brown-haired girl who he didn't recognize had apparently succeeded in convincing one of the larger students to push what was almost certainly the heaviest equipment cart in the field, while she trailed behind him with a much lighter-looking cart, which he couldn't imagine carried much more than a week's clothes and a weapon.
He didn't give much more thought to it then that. While a few other students had begun making snide remarks, he gave only a subtle smirk. As he turned about, his partner-in-walking, a grey-haired student wearing virtually no armor (or, in fact, clothing of any kind), continued to watch the scene, his head shaking.
"Do you ever wonder if that works on Grimm?" he asked.
"Oh?", Clancey responded, as he continued walking.
"You know, talking to them? Diplomacy? Manipulation? That sort of thing.", he replied, stopping a moment to scoop up a few fallen cards. "Ooh, or maybe bribery? Buy one, get one free at A Simple Wok, good until last Thursday?"
"Even if they could read, Alan, I doubt offering them old noodles would be much of an incentive." Clancey said, as they finally approach the massive entry-way which the whole student body seemed to be moving towards. A well-dressed attendant approached them, and after taking their names, quickly relieved both of their luggage carts, taking them off down some side-path.
Clancey watched the carts go. As various others passed by, many with weapons hanging on them, he instinctively went to check the rifle on his back. He noted that his friend, on the other hand, stood completely unarmed.
"Letting your weapon go off without you? What would Professor Qrow say?" he accused, giving a slight smirk.
Alan rolled his eyes, and replied, "Not much, I imagine. We're not at Signal, anymore. I hope we have professors like him here, though. He was a pretty cool teacher. Creepy weapon, though."
"There certainly aren't many scythe-wielders. None in our class, at the very least." Clancey noted, as he looked back at the incoming waves of students. A third airship had just landed, though unlike the comparatively small groups in the first two, this one had jammed at least twenty people into the tight space. "Glad I didn't take that one.", he thought to himself.
While Clancey overlooked the incoming group, he felt a tap on his shoulders, followed by Alan saying, "Hey, I'm heading inside. Might be nice to milk our exploration time before classes while we can, you know?"
"Yeah, you go on ahead." he replied. "I'm going to see who else shows up, alright?"
Alan shrugged, and said, "Right, I'll catch you later then." He then walked off towards the main entryway, leading towards the main grounds of Beacon Academy.
As he looked out over the large walkway, Clancey looked towards the massive statue which dominated out further towards the airship docks. More than a few students were standing at the base taking pictures, or comparing their own appearances to that of the imposing stone hero. He began to idly wonder who the hero was; before he could recall the name, however, he was startled from his thoughts by the calling of his own.
The girl he recognized as Susana Tiagris was now standing at his side, her arm extended. Clancey responded in kind, and the two quickly clasped hands; though to the observer, their method was more akin to the motion one makes when lifting another off the ground. Once Clancey dropped the gesture, Susana was quick to be the first to speak, asking, "What are you doing standing out here on your own? Don't you have anything better to do?"
"I could ask you the same." he replied.
"Trying to figure out where Gwen wandered off to. I was also hoping to run into Arlette, and your dumb face is usually the best way to find her. Figured you might have a better idea than me."
"Oh, I've got a pretty good idea." he said, a sad smile edging over his lips. "She didn't tell you about the transfer?"
"What transfer?"
"She's off to Mistral, now." he replied. "She was accepted into Haven. They started up last week, and apparently had a rather exciting Initiation Week."
"I can't believe she didn't say anything." Susana said, shaking her head in disgust. "Sparring buddies for all of our first year, and not even an attempt to say anything."
"If it makes you feel any better, I don't think anybody else knew either." he replied. "She told me right after out final mission, and asked me to keep quiet about it. I guess I just figured she'd let everyone else know later. By the way, since I never got a chance to ask, what exactly was yours?"
"You're a few months late on that one, aren't you?"
"Considering why you came over to talk to me, it would appear that we both are."
"Funny. But to answer the question, we had a patrol. Not many large groups, but there was a lot of walking. I can't stand long walks."
"If you didn't wear so much armor, that would probably help." he offered, tapping on the attire in question. "You've got an aura for a reason, after all."
"And when that runs out? Then what? Get taken out by one lucky Beowolf? Sorry, not interested. Besides, you're not exactly wearing the lightest outfit in Beacon."
For the next few moments, the two stood there quietly, looking out from the steps to the incoming members of their class. While many of the faces were familiar, others were new, indicating their coming from a variety of other combat schools; many, going by both attire and mannerisms, were likely not even from Vale. Just as diverse were their expressions; while some strode in with confidence, others nervously darted their eyes about, their discomfort on display for all to see.
"Well, I'm heading off." Susana said, heading off into the main academy. "And you'd better get a move on, unless you want to stand on someone's shoulders to see the Headmaster."
"Have fun." he replied, blandly, as he continued to look on. After a while, he glanced back, gave a quick nod of appreciation to the imposing Beacon Tower, and made his way into the main auditorium.
Students of all sorts assembled around the chamber as Clancey eased his way through the crowd. From the looks of things, there were even a few upper-classmen stationed about the rooms; perhaps interested in hearing whatever the Headmaster had to say, or perhaps there to ensure nothing went wrong. Though he couldn't imagine the latter was much of an issue.
As he looked about, he noticed that he was standing next to a rather unusual person. It was another boy, of about his age and smaller build, and a rather plain overall appearance. While relatively nondescript, the absurdity of many of the surrounding outfits left him the odd one out.
"You're looking a little nervous." Clancey observed, noting the way that the boy carried himself.
"That obvious?" the boy replied.
"It's fairly clear you're not from around here. Clancey, by the way." he said, extending his arm.
"Neven," he said, taking the offered handshake. "And no, I'm not. I was born and raised in Vacuo, and just arrived a short while back."
"Vacuo? And you came all of the way to Vale?" Clancey asked, raising an eyebrow. Vacuo had it's own combat academies, after all. The question burned;"Why would he cross continents just to become a Hunter?"
"Well, you know, it's a reputation thing." he said, shrugging. "Sure, Vacuo has its own school, but Beacon. It's a pretty big deal, and a lot harder to test into. Did you know only thirty-two people used to be accepted every year?"
"They raise it by four this year." Clancey noted, looking about the room, and at the students within. "If the rumors are true, though, this years admits were some of the lowest academic scorers yet. Though combat skills..."
Neven put his hand up to scratch the back of his head. "Heh. That's probably part of why I got in, then. I'm a bit of an outlier to that."
"Oh?"
"I'm a little worried. Fighting Grimm is supposedly pretty intense, but... well, to tell the truth, I've never done it before. Just read about them, and even then, not a lot of the ones around Vale. Vacuo's got some pretty weird ones, though."
Their conversation was interrupted by the slight hum of the microphone, turning the attention of all gathered students to the central stage which dominated the auditorium; and dominating the stage, more out of his legend than his physical presence, was Professor Ozpin, the Headmaster. Standing just off to the side was another professor, who Clancey recognized as Glynda Goodwitch, the professor who had spoken to them via video message on the ride over.
"For many of you, today is the most important day in your lives so far." he began. "You have met the requirements; overcome the challenges. Today, though your acceptance into Beacon Academy, you have been rewarded."
Clancey quickly glanced about the room. Many of the students had perked their heads up at his words, and a slight smile broke over his face as he considered what they might be thinking.
"You have traveled here in search of knowledge; to master your skills and hone your craft. You seek a way to defeat the Creatures of Grimm; a way to stand against the forces of darkness, and defend humanity against the threats which lay in wait beyond these cliffs. You do this in hopes that this knowledge will make you a fully fledged Huntsman or Huntress, standing as a beacon of hope in the darkest of times. But your time here shall prove that knowledge can only carry you so far."
To that, Clancey's eyebrow quickly perked up. "Is this the same speech he gives ever year?" he quietly wondered, as he glanced around to the upperclassmen along the sides.
"Beyond the borders of Vale, there are threats which few can possibly imagine. They stand in numbers impossible to count, waiting eternally for the day that humanity shows even the briefest glimmer of weakness. If that day should ever come to pass, then we will fall, and all that we have stood for will be lost."
"As of this moment, you stand here in need of purpose, direction. Though you may assume otherwise, your knowledge will not free of of this. Your path, and your survival as a protector of the people, must be something of your own design. It is up to you to take the first step."
Upon his saying that, Ozpin walked off, leaving the microphone vacant. Glynda stepped up at that point, and added, "For the next four hours, you may explore all public forums of the campus grounds. The cafeteria will be open from five until six for your evening meal. Tonight, you will report to the ballroom; tomorrow, your initiation will begin. Prepare yourself. You are dismissed."
As Glynda, too, departed the stage, leaving Clancey, and the other students, to ponder what he had just heard.
A/N: And that's Chapter 1. Not very long; just here for establishing things. Chapter 2 is in the works right now, and from the looks of it... well, I can't say the same for Chapter 2! Thanks for reading; remember, if you have any suggestions or comments, just leave a quick one. Let's make this a long run.
