Chapter 5

Into the Fire II

Jaune Arc was surprised to find that Pyrrha Nikos made for pleasant company.

She wasn't at all what he expected from an undefeatable champion. She had every right to be arrogant, brash, and abrasive; indeed, these were traits that he had witnessed in several other well known prodigies. Instead, she was mild, well mannered, and an excellent conversationalist.

They'd talked about basic stuff: family, background, likes and dislikes, but it had all flown so naturally that before Jaune knew it several hours had passed. Jaune Arc was horrified by the unprofessional lapse in attention, but Student-Jaune found that he rather enjoyed the change. It was… liberating, in a sense, but it would not do to regularly indulge such behavior.

Even distracted as he was, however, there was no way he could miss the buzzing rumble of a large group of people, and as they rounded a bend a massive huddle of students greeted their eyes. Looming over the crowd like a giant obelisk of white marble was a circular structure that must have been the main auditorium.

"Well, I guess we found it," Jaune said.

"It certainly seems so," Pyrrha responded. Jaune caught the tinge of disappointment in her words.

"Wanna sit together?" He asked nonchalantly. His time with Pyrrha had him convinced that not only would she be a useful asset, she would be a pleasant one as well. Fostering a partnership with her was one of his highest priorities.

She looked at him with surprise. "Is that alright?"

"Sure. Why not? I mean, I'd like it."

She flashed him the same brilliantly genuine smile that he'd witnesses a few hours ago. "Then I would be delighted."

They waited for a while while the crowd slowly made its way into the building, but eventually the overwhelming press of humanity dwindled into structured rows of anticipatory students. The din remained, though, as old friends reconnected and new ones were found. Jaune refused to be distracted this time, and his trained eyes constantly roved for any sign of a threat to the headmaster. Problem was, almost everyone was a threat to some degree. It was a school for huntsmen and huntresses, after all, and some of the best and brightest ones in the world to boot.

The auditorium was grand and spacious, with a very tall ceiling that induced a feeling of insignificance in those underneath it. Even though what must have been at least a thousand people were present within its walls, a multitude of empty seats suggested that its capacity was several times more. A stage with a single microphone placed front and center stood opposite the chairs, but for the moment it was empty. Jaune took a moment to memorize exits and analyze any oddities. There wasn't anything particularly noteworthy, and he quickly turned his attention to other matters.

A flash of red and white caught his eyes, unexpectedly blinding even among the multicolored mass of students. Two girls sat next to each other, one chatting amiably and the other reluctantly listening. They were by all appearances no different than those around them, and Jaune turned away, wondering what had caught his attention in the first place.

"I think it's starting," Pyrrha whispered, and as if her words were a cue Glynda Goodwitch strode onto the stage. At the professor's entrance, the room fell silent, as if her very presence exuded pressure. She had that effect on people.

"Greetings, students," she began, voice clear and sharp. "My name is Glynda Goodwitch, and I am one of the professors at Beacon. To those of you who return to us, welcome back. I'm glad to see that you've survived the summer."

A dry chuckle ran through the ranks of the upperclassmen. Glynda did not even crack a smile. It had not been a joke. Summer meant jobs, and for a huntsman jobs were never safe.

"To those of you who are new to our school, welcome," she continued. "In a moment, the headmaster has words to share with you, but before that, allow me to set your perspective."

Her voice echoed with all the sharpness of a whip. "You are not here for fun. This is not a school to be enjoyed, although we hope you find your place. In being here, you have volunteered yourself for the hardest and most dangerous job in the world. You serve as the heroes who safeguard humanity from the Grimm. Beacon is not a place where you will be sheltered. It will not be comfortable. There will be times where you hate us, and passionately. But remember this: our goal is that you survive, and every death is a tragic failure on our part."

Somber silence reigned in the hall.

"I'm sorry that we must be so harsh, but it would be cruel for us to poorly prepare your expectations," Glynda said softly, and for the first time in her speech the stern mask slipped. "Should you desire to quit, know that you may depart with your head held high. The cost you have chosen to bear is immense, and it is heartbreaking to see you pay with your lives."

Jaune glanced at Pyrrha. She stared straight at the professor, eyes alight with steely determination. Despite himself, he felt a warm burst of pride.

Truly, an institution worthy of an Arc.

"That is all," Glynda said. "Before you are dismissed, Headmaster Ozpin has some words to share with you."

She stepped back, and Ozpin strode to take her place. The tension that marked the hall after Glynda's words relaxed into simply respectful silence. The headmaster's very bearing demanded attention, but it was presence without edge. Jaune Arc found himself impressed. This was a man he could guard with pride.

"Glynda has done an excellent job outlining the behavior that is expected of you," Ozpin said. He spoke moderately, deliberately, but they carried calm power that echoed throughout the hall. "Now I will remind you of your purpose."

His eyes scanned the crowd slowly, with burningly intense focus. "We have the privilege to dwell in a time of relative safety. While the Grimm roam the wilderness, we have built a safe fortress from which humanity may thrive. The world tells you that you are the stones that build that wall, that you are the shield against the ever present hammer of the Grimm. And they are right, but that is not all that you are."

He paced slowly, with a calm deliberateness that mirrored his voice. "Never assume that peace will remain. Never grow complacent. There are shadows that watch for weakness, and if we show it they will tear our world down around us. It is not enough for you to be a shield; you must be a sentinel, for our existence teeters on a knife's edge and the winds of change would seek to topple us. It is said that a huntsman walks with death. Such it is as well for the society they protect."

He stopped and turned back towards the crowd, and all at once it seemed like years of weariness had fallen from him. "But know this as well: you are up to the task. If we did not believe you to be the best, the brightest, and the strongest, you would not be here. Know that in everything you do, you walk with the unquestioning faith of your comrades and the people."

No one stirred, pressed down by solemn weight. Ozpin retreated, his piece said, and Glynda replaced him.

"New students, at twenty-two hundred hours you are to be present in the ballroom. Until then, you are free to explore and socialize with your peers. Second years, meet with professor Port, third years with professor Oobleck, and fourth years with myself. You are dismissed."

::-::-::

Weiss Schnee was feeling even more intimidated than before.

While the headmaster had been speaking, she had been caught up in his words, despite himself. For a fleeting moment, she had considered abandoning the mission, joining Beacon for real and leaving behind the revolution she was spearheading. Surely, the loss of such a great man would be a tragedy to the world.

But the moment had passed. The headmaster spoke of a society balanced on a knife's edge, but it was a broken society. Let it fall.

She still felt… Well, scared, to be honest. This was crazy. There had to be a better way, something that didn't involve living in the middle of hostile territory surrounded by suspecting professors, but it was too late now. They were committed, whether she liked it or not.

"Quite a speech, huh?" a cheery voice piped up from beside her.

Weiss turned to glare at the source. Ruby had been unusually clingy since they'd arrived at Beacon. The heiress still wasn't certain what her partner's motivation was. Was she intimidated?

"Uh, guess not?" Ruby wilted. "Sorry. About before. I know you said you didn't want to see me again, and I know I've been bothering you since then, but I don't know anyone else and I'd really like it if we could be friends so do you think maybe you could possibly forgive me?" The words came out in a tumbled rush.

Nope, still no clue what she was doing.

Ruby wasn't professional. At all. She was capricious and impulsive, probably two of the worst traits possible for an assassin, and it was a miracle she was as good as she was.

Well, partially a miracle, and partially a very, very skilled partner. As a statement of fact, of course, not empty bragging.

Still… If she was going to be so irritatingly persistent, Weiss figured she might as well keep an eye on her. Just to make sure she didn't do anything crazy. It was a bit of a risk, but that was nothing new. It was Ruby, after all.

"I… Suppose, it could have been an honest mistake. As long as you don't do something so utterly inane again, it's not impossible we could get along."

"Really?" Ruby asked hesitantly.

Weiss held out her hand in response. "Weiss Schnee."

Ruby took it. "Ruby Rose. Nice to meet you, Weiss."

Weiss gave her a single, firm handshake, a no-nonsense up and down movement.

Alright Ruby. Not sure what you're up to, but we're all in.

::-::-::

Blake Belladonna was very, very good at watching people.

A lifetime of suffering from prejudice and racism had left her with a keen sense for observation and instinctive judgement, a skill that had only been honed by her brief stint of terrorism under the White Fang. Little details popped out to the cat faunus, details that told worlds of information about people if one was astute enough to catch them. Now that it was night and all of the first years were gathered in one place, she had been provided with an opportunity that would likely never present itself again.

From behind the safety of a book, she observed. The words went unheeded, for a more interesting story unfolded before her.

There were plenty of trivial details. Young men and women flirting with each other, unused to sleeping in such close proximity and relishing the experience. Blake couldn't help but roll her eyes at their antics. Such immaturity wouldn't last. A professor with wild glasses and even wilder hair watched over the group with what might be mistaken for vigilance, but his slouched posture and death grip on a steaming cup of coffee suggested otherwise. An exhausted man, but hadn't school just started? What could have tired the man out already? Certainly, faculty had tasks to perform during the summer, but to cause such intense weariness already…? Unlikely.

A flash of gold on the edge of her vision drew the cat Faunus' attention. A tall girl with brilliantly golden hair cast furtive glances at the opposite end of the ballroom. Blake's enhanced night vision caught the girl's clenched fists and tight shoulders. Stress, then, but why? Her hands bore heavy calluses, especially around the knuckles, and their tense state revealed curved muscles and an expert's grip. A brawler, then, in all likelihood. Faint scars along bare arms. Rough past? Scarring was extremely unusual under the healing effects of aura. Obtained at a young age, before her aura was unlocked? Or was it deliberate? Past history as an underground brawler? Someone who loved to fight, certainly.

Blake followed the girl's gaze to where it was centered on a petite girl in a black tank top and white and pink pajama pants. This one looked very, very young. Some girls looked young for their age, of course, but this one was extraordinarily so. Fifteen, maybe sixteen at most. At eighteen, Blake herself was already on the younger end of Beacon students. How had this girl made it in? A prodigy, no doubt; the weak and incapable were not granted entry. Even so, no matter how talented normal protocol demanded that she attend her full time at an entry level combat school. Beacon's demands required a certain amount of life experience and maturity. Did she have some kind of personal connection with faculty, perhaps? But not just anyone, someone high ranking, someone who could pull strings. Glynda Goodwitch or Ozpin, perhaps?

And why did she look so irritatingly familiar? The more she watched, the more Blake was convinced that she had seen the girl before, but it was an elusive recollection, dancing away mockingly whenever the cat faunus grasped at it. Danger, though, she was certain of that; every subconscious shard that came to her screamed danger, but why?

The girl's behavior was equally bewildering. By all appearances, she seemed shy and awkward, a timid girl barely old enough to be considered a young woman surrounded by older, confident, and intimidating seniors. Blake caught her hunched posture as she huddled in her bedding, eyes stealing frightened glances toward the predominantly male side of the room, arms wrapped defensively around her small frame. Bad history? Traumatic event? Or just shy, and especially uncomfortable with men?

And yet the girl exuded a faint edge of cool competence and cockiness, an impression that was well at odds with her surface characteristics.

Interesting. Very interesting.

Golden-hair had moved from occasional looks to a full blown stare, hands clenching and unclenching in an uneasy rhythm. Still an unanswered question. Past history? Irritation or envy about the girl's age? Perceived injustice?

Too hard to tell, for now. Blake was very, very good at watching, noticing, observing. Putting the pieces together… Putting them together had been Adam's job.

That relationship, unfortunately, was all too clear to the cat faunus.

With a puff of breath, she extinguished the candle that had been her reading light before settling into her sleeping roll, ignoring the hushed chatter around her.

::-::-::

Ruby Rose awoke with excitement coursing through her.

No more awkward socializing attempts, no more playing the frightened child, initiation was her chance to do what she did best: kill things. She'd have to hold back on her efficiency, of course. No mere huntress in training should be able to use a scythe, one of the most awkward weapons possible despite its lethality, and perfectly target weak points with every strike. Even so, the limitation didn't dampen her spirits. If anything, the challenge would be exciting.

Also, kill things.

"Morning Weiss!" she sang as her bleary partner rose from her slumber. "It's a beautiful day."

"Shut up," Weiss mumbled. "You're never this chipper in the morning. What's wrong with you."

The heiress realized her slip a moment too late. Luckily, most of the surrounding students were still asleep or barely awake.

"I mean, it's so early. Are you always this obnoxious?" she hastily corrected.

Ruby internally sighed. Weiss had never been good at improvising, and her correction had been so clumsy it would have caused more harm than good to an attentive student. "It's initiation day! Aren't you excited?"

"I will be in a couple of hours," Weiss grumbled. "And I'll be even more excited if you bother someone else."

"Aww, that's mean," Ruby pouted. "I thought we were friends now?"

"Only when your mouth is closed. So never." Weiss shot back acidly.

Before Ruby could respond, the sharp clarity of Glynda's voice blared through the ballroom's speakers. "All first years, you have one hour to prepare yourself and assemble at the training fields. Any tardiness will be grounds for immediate failure. I repeat, you have one hour to assemble at the fields."

The echo of the words still hung in the air when Ruby dragged Weiss to her feet. "Come on! No time. Gotta pack our stuff, eat, find lockers, and go! Hurry up!"

Grudgingly, Weiss complied.

The morning flew by in a haze of motion and anticipation. Ruby figured she must have eaten breakfast at some point (because she wasn't hungry) and that cookies must have been involved (because a stack of them had somehow appeared in her hands), and that at some point, she must have made her way to the correct field (because there were bunches of other people here and Weiss wasn't complaining).

She smirked. The thrum of excitement - crimson, sanguine, ebony - left her almost breathless. She danced from one foot to the other, a light footed reaper awaiting the signal to - kill - start. Other students looked stressed, anxious, whatever. Not her. She was the best, after all.

Oh, right, still had cookies. The smirk fell from her face as she stuffed one of the chocolatey, buttery confections in her mouth in one giant bite.

Heavenly.

The crack of whip on ground quieted the murmur of the crowd of students. Ruby snapped her attention forward to where Glynda Goodwitch stood on an elevated riser, staring down at the students below her like a goddess of discipline.

"It's starting!" she quietly squealed.

"Shut up," Weiss hissed, but the gleam in her eyes betrayed her own excitement.

"Welcome to initiation," Glynda's voice rang out. "Up to this point, your past achievements have been enough to grant you entry into this school. Now is when you prove you belong."

Ok ok ok I get it come on let's go!

"Those of you who bothered to read through your orientation briefing will be familiar with the initiation process. Those of you who did not, consider this your first lesson: always do the reading. Sloppy preparation is not acceptable for a hunter."

"We had a briefing?" Ruby whispered.

Weiss sighed. "They handed it out this morning."

A pause. "Like, sent it to our scrolls?"

"No," Weiss hissed, "paper copy."

This morning? What had happened this morning… Wake up, excitement… Cookies? Ok, there was definitely room somewhere in there for… stuff. Oh wait, she vaguely recalled using some kind of paper for a napkin. Oops. "What'd it say?"

"Go to the forest, find a relic, first person you make contact with is your partner for the next four years," Weiss rattled off tonelessly.

Ruby blinked in surprise. "That seems like an awfully careless way to assign partners."

"Quiet," Weiss replied, but the lack of rebuttal told Ruby that her partner agreed with her assessment. "I'm trying to listen."

"A letter-number designation will be sent to your scrolls," Glynda continued. Apparently, whatever she'd been saying hadn't been important. Probably lecturing. "The letter corresponds to each of the launch pads that will propel you into the forest. The number assigns you to a group; ones are launched first, then twos, and so on. Good luck. Be on guard; even if your life is in danger, we will not interfere."

Ruby glanced at her scroll. N-2.

"What'dja get?" She asked Weiss.

"A-3." The heiress hesitated. "If - if it's possible, we should try to partner up. It'll make everything simpler. Stay hidden if you can, at least until I can signal you."

"Aight," Ruby smiled - everything just felt right. "See you soon, Weiss. Don't die."

Weiss snorted humorlessly. "As if I would." Despite her bravado, the tension that dominated her bearing and a noticeable glimmer of anxiety told a different story then one of confidence.

Well, that was Weiss. She worried too much.

The launch pads were clearly labeled, and Ruby found the the N section after only a few seconds. Students milled about in a confused mob, unable to formulate any kind of order without explicit instructions. The first wave eventually stumbled into position, and at a sharp command from Glynda they were propelled into the air, barreling towards the open arms of the ravenous forest below. Their space vacated, Ruby skipped forward enthusiastically.

Only a few minutes had passed before a shout of "ten seconds until launch!" ran down the line. A stalwart confidence settled over the assembled students, now that the nervous wait was over. They were the best of the best the brightest and most promising of their generation. What need did they have to fear?

Three, two, one, Ruby mentally counted. Right on cue, the launch pad engaged, and with a deafening rush of wind and a violent tug on her stomach she was flying.

Ready or not, here I come.

::-::-::

AN: The thought that you will be attending Beacon… It fills you with DETERMINATION.

Sorry for the delay. This chapter was mad suffering to write. I don't even know why.

The number of students at Beacon's a bit larger in this story. Always seemed odd that there weren't more than a couple dozen people in RWBY/JNPR's year. I'd still consider one thousand students a very small school, especially for one as prodigious as Beacon.

Beacon's a way less friendly place, at least at this point. What can I say, it's a darker Remnant. Volume 3 Remnant with volume 1 storyline, heh heh. (In my opinion, Volume 3 was excellent and the first time I felt like the series was beginning to live up to its potential)

Action really begins next chapter.

Thanks for reading. Review please, and thanks for the follows/favs!