A/N: Hello there! Just letting any returning readers that the Chapter you're reading is actually a reworked version. I posted this chapter a long time ago so I wanted to comeback to fix alot of glaring errors. For any new readers, thankyou for checking out my work! I am proud to welcome you to the JNRZ AU!
~O~O~O~O~O~
There were a lot of possible reasons why Jaune's stomach felt like it was collapsing in on itself.
It could have been about how Jaune had run away from home, stolen his Grandpa's sword and shield, and left his Scroll behind so his parents couldn't contact him. He couldn't risk his dad tracking it and dragging him back home.
It could have been because he wasn't going to Beacon Academy anymore. His "contact" that had set up the forged transcripts for him had said there was a sudden change of plans. Instead of studying at his dream school in nice and cozy Vale, he was now going to Bulwark Academy in the frozen far-off Kingdom of Atlas.
It could have also been part of the fact that the shortest way to Atlas was an overnight flight by airship. It is well known how susceptible to air sickness Jaune was, another dot on the list of Jaune's flaws, right between his natural clumsiness and the fact he looked way too good in a dress.
No matter the reason for Jaune's stomach sickness, he could at least confidently say that his ailment was the reason why he was sitting in his own corner of the airship, with his very own complimentary trashcan and air spray provided by the poor stewardess who was tired of cleaning up the bathrooms after his emergencies.
To say Jaune was in a bit of a sore spot was putting it lightly.
Using his newly acquired weapon of aerosolized flowers to fend off the foul odor of his stomach contents turned trash contents, Jaune couldn't help but stare out the airship ship window of the slowly passing snowy wastes of Solitas, soon to be his new home.
I should have asked for a refund. Jaune thought to himself. I had to sell my entire comic book collection to afford those transcripts and then save up my allowance for traveling expenses. Now I'm going to a school I didn't even know the name of. It was already complicated enough to fake my way through Beacon. Now I have to fake my way into Bulwark past the Atlesian military?
And what did the broker even mean by 'change of plans'? The transcripts for Beacon were already official, so why do I suddenly have to go to Bulwark instead? Something isn't adding up…
Before Jaune could ponder his predicament anymore thoroughly, the airship's speakers crackled to life.
"Good evening, passengers. This is your captain speaking, letting you know that our landing will be in twenty minutes. If you'd look out the left-side windows of the ship, you should be able to see the cities as we arrive. I promise it will be quite the view."
Jaune, realizing he was sitting on the left side anyways, swerved his gaze toward the window. Just as he did, his stomach pains had all but miraculously vanished.
The view was… breathtaking.
As the airship crested the mountaintop, it was as if Jaune was on a whole nother planet.
It was a world where great castles with impossibly high spires and towers rested on floating islands in the air. Held aloft seemingly by nothing but large tendrils of steam that reached out from a gaping maw in the planet's crust, like the mouth of a dragon that threatened to swallow the floating citadel whole.
To the side of this unfathomably wide opening in the ground sat another city, less grandiose in architecture than the one that sat just above, but where the latter was basked in cold elegance, the former begged for a warm embrace. The buildings below were spaced closely together as if to hug each other to better brace against the harsh Solitas cold. The entire city itself practically hugged the steaming crater like a man huddling near a campfire in a storm.
As the broken moon rose higher into the sky, the lights of the twin cities became alight under the already star-speckled sky, further contrasting the two as one glowed an icy blue that matched sprawling icy wastes while the one below emanated a deep orange that reflected off the spiraling pillars of steam, reminding Jaune of roaring blaze.
Jaune couldn't take his eyes off the scene before him even as the airship descended toward the lower city. He knew that Bulwark Academy was situated in Atlas just above, but opting for a direct flight to Mantle instead could save him a lot of money.
Even as the airship landed on the runway, the young knight couldn't help but feel excited. He was really doing it. He had just traveled all this way to become a Huntsman, and by golly, he officially came too far to turn back.
With newfound determination, Jaune took his first step out into the fresh Solitas air, with only one thought crossing his mind…
HOLY COW, IT IS COLD!
~O~O~O~O~O~
So turned out Jaune's treasured Pumpkin Pete Hoodie was not exactly built for arctic temperatures. The light material made it so the jacket could be worn comfortably on warmer days, and when you're in Vale, that pretty much means you could wear it most times of the year.
Luckily the hoodie helped better when actually traveling the Mantle streets. The lower city had an advanced heating system that ran along every nook and cranny, warming the local temperatures to a pleasant chilly day compared to the harsh freezing cold outside the walls.
But even with the relief of Mantle's heating network, Jaune knew his wardrobe was due for an upgrade if he was going to be living in Atlas, which brought him to a clothing shop. Sure, he was already dipping into his limited currency. But he considered the expenses necessary, especially if there was a chance that he was going to work out in the wilderness, where most of the Grimm were, and that's where the temperatures were even lower.
On this shopping trip, he acquired some thicker jeans, a pair of large snow boots, some thick leather gloves, a rather fashionable orange turtleneck sweater, and a brand-new black winter coat with a hoodie. For a last-second decision, Jaune had opted to grab an orange wool knit beanie with a white pattern along the hem, matching the sweater perfectly!
After putting the ensemble together with his white armor overtop, the jacket donned, and sword buckled at his side…
Jaune thought he looked good. Damn good!
He even took a few minutes to try some poses in the changing room to catch all the good angles. He almost looked and felt like a real Huntsman!
The shopkeeper must have thought so too because as Jaune was purchasing the clothes, the lady recommended a nearby Dust Shop, a locally owned place called "Dust to Dust."
Jaune had a basic understanding of what Dust was from science classes at school and the stories his dad had shared. It was like a magical rock that could create special effects when messed with.
Some could create fire, some could generate electricity, and some would even turn into water when shattered. But most importantly, it was something real Huntsmen used all the time.
Even if Jaune wasn't a real Huntsman yet (or even a real Huntsman in Training to be exact), it would help him blend in more if he showed up packing some heat, maybe even some cold and some shocking as well!
Which now brought him out in front of a storefront of a shop with "Dust to Dust" hanging above it.
Adjusting his new clothes to make himself look more official, Jaune stepped into the shop, a bell chime signaling his entrance.
A quick scope of the place revealed several shelves and display cases unsurprisingly filled with an assortment of Dust types in different containers, ranging from plastic vials, shotgun shells, glass jars, and even just whole Dust crystals to be sold. Everything had a bright red tag on the glass depicting "Fire Sale" and "Everything must go!"
A funny thought came to mind as Jaune looked over the establishment. It felt more like a coffee shop than an ammo surplus store. It felt surprisingly warm and welcoming.
"Well, hey there, son! Looking for a refill?"
Speaking of warm and welcoming, Jaune turned to the friendly voice towards the store's counter, behind which stood a tall, dark-skinned man with graying hair and a stylish fedora that he wore as easily as a smile.
"Don't be a stranger now. How can I help you?"
Standing taller, Jaune confidently strode towards the counter, "Thank you, kind sir. I'd like to see your finest wares!"
Nailed it.
The man gave a hearty laugh, "First time shopping for Dust?"
Jaune's stature immediately deflated, "What gave it away?"
"Well, when customers walk in, they're usually looking for something precise. And don't usually ask to see what I happen to have."
"O-oh…" God, Jaune was already screwing this up! How is he supposed to blend in a school for Huntsmen when he already sticks out like a sore thumb shopping for supplies!?
"Now, now, no need to get embarrassed. A lot of the new kids in the game usually don't have too much experience with Dust. Some just usually focus on the fighting and exercising portion before getting into stuff like Dust Alchemy. I'm assuming you're about to start attending Bulwark?"
"Yes sir! I am. I was hoping to get some Dust before school started so I could… uhm… fit in… better." Jaune admitted rather bashfully, receiving another jovial laugh from the cashier.
"I get what you mean, don't want to be the only one showing unprepared for everything huh? What's your name, son?"
"Jaune Arc sir." Jaune held his hand out towards the man, who it for a strong handshake.
"A pleasure to meet ya, Jaune, people around here call me Charles Coal, and luckily for you, I can help you with just your kind of problem."
Jaune couldn't help but feel reassured, the man just oozed a calming, fatherly nature. He accepted the man's help with a nod. "I would greatly appreciate that. Thank you!"
"Good, now let's start with the basics. What arsenal are you packing?"
"I uh, got this sword." Jaune unsheathed Crocea Mors from his waist, receiving an approving grunt from Charles. "And the sheath is also a shield as well." Pinpointing that fact by expanding out the sheath, revealing the Arc Crest on the shining metal surface.
"Not bad. Does either the sword or shield come with a Dust Feed?"
"A Dust what?"
"Heh, I'll take that as a no. Do you specialize in any kind of Dust usage?"
"Oh yeah, I use… Fire a lot. And some Ice?"
"Son. Have you ever used Dust before?"
"No sir…"
This was just sad at this point. Not even three minutes ago, Jaune had swaggered in as if he owned the place, yet he seemed to have no idea what he wanted.
"Hey, chin up. It's okay. It's obvious from your weapon that you've never had a reason to use Dust in the first place. There's no shame in wanting to expand your arsenal. How about I do this for you," Charles said as he leaned on the counter with both hands. "I'll hook you up with a sort of 'Starter Pack.' A care package of vials filled with an assortment of Dust types you'll most typically use in the field. You can go through them, experiment, and see what works best. I've got a sale going on, so I can get you quite a bit to work with for a fair price. Sound like a deal?"
Jaune nearly boggled at how great of a deal that sounded! In fact, it'd be perfect! He could show up to Bulwark with a whole stash of Dust that he can learn to use. His neck nearly snapped at how quickly he nodded, causing Charles to chuckle.
"Then it's a deal. Hey, while I get the pack together, how about you check out those paper magazine racks over there? Should be a few magazines about weapon engineering, might help you figure out what you could do next after getting a handle on Dust."
"I think I might just do that. Thank you, Mr. Coal. You have no idea how much you're helping me."
Charles casually waved off the praise, "It's my job, son. Ain't no reason to give me a medal for it. When you're a Huntsman one day, you'll do much more than me to help. Consider this an advancement on your good deeds. Now go ahead, rummage through my stuff while I get the Dust ready for you."
With another polite thank you, Jaune headed toward the magazine racks while he waited for his order.
He picked one at random, turning out to be a natural survival sort of magazine, giving loads of tips and tricks for collecting food in the wilderness. He scanned the pages and pictures instead of actually reading them. His mind was too focused on how excited he was again.
With this Dust, his new winter gear, and his forged transcripts, Jaune had everything he needed to start at Bulwark. He would take his classes seriously, get physically fit, fight monsters, maybe get a cute girlfriend, and go on exciting adventures!
Jaune was going to be somebody!
He was so focused on what possible adventures could await him that he failed to notice the front doorbell chimed, followed by a few sets of heavy footprints rushing in.
BANG!
"Get down this a robbery!"
Jaune held back a surprised but manly scream as he ducked down behind the magazine stands.
Peering from behind the Weapons and Engineering section, Jaune spotted several men with guns and metal pipes. They wore white pants and button-up shirts with gray vests, each wearing variously colored flat caps and white masks of varying cartoonish expressions.
"Back up from the counter, Gramps! If I see one finger reach underneath that table, you'll lose it." Said a tall beefy robber who held a fire axe toward Charles.
Charles immediately heeded the man's warning. "Please, I don't have much. Just take what you want and go!"
"Now, Charles, is that any way you greet a customer?"
A tall man walked in, puffing on a cigar and swinging a cane. He wore a red-lined white suit with long black pants and black shoes. His accessories included a small gray scarf, black gloves with buckled sleeves, and a black bowler hat with a small feather tucked into its red band. Unlike the others, though, he seemed to have opted to not wear a mask.
"I know the shop is falling on hard times, but is that any excuse for poor service?"
As he talked and walked towards the front counter, he was followed by a young man dressed in similarly white and gray clothes as the other goons who parted way from their supposed Boss, but what made him stand out was the red-ornate coat that hung off his shoulders like a cape and a black bandana and mask that covered most of his facial features and hair.
"Roman Torchwick." Charles seethed. "I don't share my hospitality with people who don't intend on paying. What's the matter? Bigger fish getting too scary that you now have to pick on small fries like me to get by?"
"Harsh words Charles. But I promise it's nothing personal!" Roman said as he crossed his heart. "Sometimes, a successful criminal like me just wants to take a break from bigger franchise jobs and take from the little guy. Give attention to local smaller businesses so they don't feel left out."
"Wise Guy." Roman snapped his finger towards the tall henchman with the axe and a mask of a frowning face. "Make sure our friend here doesn't try to cause trouble while we work."
"Got it, Boss. I'll keep him nice and friendly."
"Funny Man," Roman turned towards another henchman, who could have been an exact clone of Wise Guy if it wasn't for the darker skin, the smiling mask, and his weapon of choice being a sledgehammer. "Get the others and start gathering the Dust."
"Yes sir, Yes sir!" Funny Man saluted as he giggled and started smashing glass displays.
"Red Roger, secure the back of the shop. Make sure it's only the old man here."
"On it." The young man in the black mask nodded and started toward the back of the shop.
"Chop chop, men!" Roman said as he peeled off one of the red stickers on a broken display case. "And remember, 'Everything Must Go!'"
"Hehe, you said it, boss!"
"Oh crap, oh crap!" Jaune quietly said as he backed up further down the magazine aisle.
This is bad! Jaune thought, What should I do? What would a Huntsman do? He'd try to quietly take them down one at a time, even the odds into his favor, then hit them with an all-out surprise attack… CRAP WAIT! I'M NOT A REAL HUNTSMAN!
As Jaune continued to quietly back up, he failed to notice an extra magazine rack behind him, accidentally bumping into it with his hip, right where his Crocea Mors was…
Click.
With a simple bump, the sheath expanded into its shield form, the force launching the magazine rack down the aisle and the shield right off of Jaune's belt in the other direction. The boy quickly dove for it as it loudly clattered to the ground, picking it up and shushing it like that would feasibly quiet down the noise.
Jaune quickly stood up with Crocea Mors in hand, hoping they didn't hear that. He turned to look as every pair of eyes in the room stood looking directly at him, seemingly stunned in place mid-robbery.
"Uhmm, freeze?" Jaune hesitantly demanded.
Unfortunately for Jaune, not one of the robbers decided to drop their weapons. In fact, he heard what sounded like a gun cocking right next to him, causing him to pale.
"How about you freeze, bruv?" said the henchman designated Red Roger in a thick accent, who held a flintlock pistol point blank to the side of Jaunes head in one hand, and a sharp cutlass in the other. From here, Jaune could see Red's bright green eyes through his mask's eye holes, and he painted his nails black based on the index itching towards the gun's trigger. "No sudden movements, got it?"
All Jaune could do was let out a struggled eep as all the criminals around started laughing, Roman Torchwick applauding as he walked closer to the two.
"Very well done, Red. Looks like you caught us a Huntsman." He took a drag and puffed cigar smoke straight into Jaune's face, causing him to cough. "Trying to play hero, kid? How's that working out so far?"
Jaune felt like he should have had a witty comeback for Roman. But instead, his brain defaulted and opted for the truth.
"Could be going better."
This caused a round of laughter from robbers as more decided to stop their crime to join in on the fun of messing with him.
"Aw, look, he's shaking!" Funny Man chuckled ", What's the matter, pal? Ya nervous meeting such a big star like the Boss?"
"Oh, is that what it is, Blondie? Are you a fan of my work?" Roman snarked as he rummaged through his coat pocket, pulled out a marker, and started writing on Jaune's breastplate. "Here's one to my biggest fan, Twerp. Hugs and kisses, Roman."
Jaune looked down to see Roman's message in fancy handwriting, causing Jaune to blush deep in embarrassment as the criminals started pointing and laughing at him.
"Ha! Make sure to tell your friends, kid! You better treasure that with your life!" said the one called Wise Guy as he patted Roman on the shoulder.
"Heh, and as he should." Roman agreed, then quickly afterward had a thoughtful look crossed his mind as he turned to his crony.
"Wise Guy."
"Yeah, Boss?"
"If you're here, who's watching the shopkeep?"
When Wise Guy didn't immediately answer, all eyes immediately turned towards the counter as Charles' hand continuously pressed the silent alarm.
"Uh-oh."
Seeing an opportunity while everyone watched Charles, Jaune expanded his shield and charged through the criminals.
"CHARLES, RUN!"
In his valiant effort, Jaune managed to get a few meters before he felt someone trip him. Having focused all his momentum on charging, the boy flew across the shop, landing shield first on some soft duffle bags. Duffle bags full of the recently stolen Dust.
BOOM!
~O~O~O~O~O~
Despite all the habitual smoking Roman did, he coughed hard from all the smoke that filled the room.
Unfortunately, his unhealthy habit also did nothing in the way to get him used to loud explosions that nearly deafen your ears, nearly as in the case he could still hear the alarms blaring around him, partially from the store's security system and from the cars parked outside blaring their lights.
Luckily for Roman, these specific car lights did not belong to any police cars, but that didn't mean the streets wouldn't be full of them soon.
"Uncle? Uncle!" said the muffled but familiar voice of his sidekick Red Roger.
"I told you not to call me that on the job!" Roman loudly yelled through his tinnitus, pushing his kid nephew to the side as he stomped over to his overpaid cronies. "And which of you idiots had the bright idea to trip him?!"
His two tallest and beefiest henchman looked at each other, Wise Guy being the first to point fingers.
"It was all Funny Man."
"Oh, you little snitch! Why I atta-."
"And why didn't you just grab him?!" Roman asked as he quickly stomped up to the burly masked man ", Instead of, oh, I don't know, tripping him into our haul of highly combustible rocks!?"
"S-sorry Boss! I had to think fast. The kid got the slip on us."
"Hehe, slip." Wise Guy laughed before getting whacked upside the head with a cane. "OW!"
"Hehe, OW! OW, Ok!"
"What do I pay you guys for?!" Roman yelled as he gave Funny Man an extra smack with his cane for that pun. "Come on! We're leaving before the cops get here."
"What about the Dust, Boss?" Funny Man tentatively asked before getting an angry glare from Roman. "R-Right. Sorry."
The dapper gangster stepped through the front entrance, its front door now hanging loosely on its hinges. He glanced around all the broken glass shattered on the sidewalk and street, looking for a particular Blonde nuisance that he was pretty sure launched through the front windows after the Dust ignited. Roman thought he could loot the twerp's chunky remains for that shiny sword, but no armor-clad salsa was in sight.
Scanning the surrounding street, he did catch a scrawny teenager just limping into an alleyway across the street, a trail of blood following behind him.
Oh no, you're not getting away that easy.
"Unc- Uh, I mean Boss!" Red yelled from the open sliding doors of the white getaway van. "Hop in! We got trouble coming our way!"
Even Roman could determine the sounds of police sirens growing closer. But the man was not nearly finished here.
"Head on without me. I'll meet you guys back at the hideout." Atlas's greatest thief ordered. He turned, adjusted his hat, and strolled down the dark alleyway. "That little hero owes me a goddamn robbery."
~O~O~O~O~O~
Everything hurts.
Jaune's mind raced as he limped down the Mantle alleys, no idea where he was going but forward. He wasn't exactly sure what his condition was. Probably a few cracked leg bones, maybe several broken ribs, a concussion, and quite a few cuts and bruises…
Oh, gods, everything hurts.
He wanted to go home, realizing now how much of an idiot he was.
What kind of Huntsman couldn't stop a robbery!? How could he ever face monsters when he struggled to take down a few armed robbers alone?
He planned to hobble to the nearest port, purchase a one-way ticket to Vale, and endure the arduous journey back to Bourbon on his hands and knees if he had to. Take the grounding and ass-kicking his mom would give him, and stay in that village where it was safe and cozy for the rest of his life!
"Ohhhh, Sir Knight! Where areeee youuuuu!?"
But first, he had to get away from HIM!
Jaune tried frantically to pick up the pace, but there was only so much his legs could do after that explosion.
His breathing became ragged by the time the alley opened up to a sort of steaming canal. The river was flanked by two raised sidewalks with railings that overlooked the flowing water, melted snow that fell within the heated air of Mantle and drained out here.
The injured knight looked down both ways of the river, trying to quickly determine the path to outrun…
"Didn't your mother tell you not to run with sharp objects?" Roman said with smug satisfaction as he strolled out of the dark from behind him. "You could get hurt, you know. You better hand the expensive-looking sword over before you injure yourself further."
"N-no, my mom didn't tell me that. She'd always tell me, 'Strangers are friends you haven't met yet,' but I feel you'd be an exception."
That's it, Jaune thought. Buy yourself time, Jaune. Keep him talking.
"I'm hurt. If you'd give me an honest chance, I can show you exactly how swell a guy I can be! How about we start over?"
The thief pressed the tip of his cane down to the ground and gave a deep bow.
"Roman Torchwick, leader of the Candlelight Crooks, The Gentleman Robber, the Trickster of Two Cities, and the Greatest Criminal Atlas has ever known!"
"Uh… Cool. My name is Jaune Arc. I'm uh, about to attend Bulwark Academy, and a fun fact about me is I uh… I have seven sisters!"
As they stood in awkward silence, the sound of rushing water from the canal and distant police sirens filled the air. After a moment, Roman broke the silence, his voice laced with astonishment.
"Seven sisters? I can barely handle the one I have! You have my sympathies."
Jaune let out a small chuckle. "It wasn't all bad. They annoyed each other just as much as they annoyed me. And at the end of the day, I still love them."
Roman nodded, a wry smile on his face. "Siblings, am I right? Love to hate them, and hate to love them."
Jaune chuckled in agreement. "Exactly."
The two not-strangers shared a quick chuckle, taking a moment to take a trip down memory lane of their antics with their sisters.
"Hm, now that we got introductions out of the way," Roman said as he lifted his cane back toward Jaune. "Hand over the sword and shield, Jaune."
Any good atmosphere they shared vanished for Jaune, tonal whiplash nearly breaking his neck. "W-What?! You can't want it now!"
"I can, and I still do. I've got an image to maintain, and I can't allow myself to walk away from a botched robbery empty-handed. I swear, Blondie, I thought you would be much more understanding about this."
Jaune clutched Crocea Mors harder, "You can't have it."
"Well, then I'm just going to have to take it."
Roman adjusted his grip on his cane to hold it more like a club and started stalking toward Jaune, the boy now seeing no way of running or talking his way out of it unsheathed his sword and expanded his shield, trying his damnedest to get into a fighting stance. Due to his lack of training and numerous wounds, the boy was shaky at best.
Due to the knight's intense nerves, he broke first and went on the offensive with a wild swing. Roman effortlessly parried the attack with his cane, his expression revealing a hint of surprise at the ease of it.
The parry caused Jaune to stumble, who took a few seconds to recompose himself as Roman watched curiously yet cautiously.
Jaune charged in again with a yell, going for a thrust this time. Torchwick rescinded by swinging his cane upwards, redirecting the sword, then jabbing Jaune right in the nose with the end of his weapon.
Jaune cried out, trying to cover his now bleeding nose with his shield hand.
Roman looked at Jaune with wide-eyed astonishment, a cruel smile slowly carving into his face.
"You can't be serious."
The Gentleman thief changed his battle stance into a mocking fencer's stance, twirling his cane like a rapier. "Well, come on then! Engarde Blondie!"
Jaune's legs were shaking, he was starting to feel everything hurting again, and he was getting angrier and angrier. With as primal a yell he could muster, the Huntsman in training charged with reckless abandon, unable to properly swing his sword. Roman immediately smacked the weapon out of his hand. The thief followed up the disarm by delivering an ear-ringing open hand slap across Jaune's face, knocking the boy to the cold ground.
The thief stood in awe and let out a belly laugh, greatly amused by the boy below him.
"Oh, you have got to be joking with me!" Roman let out between laughs. "You're no Huntsman at all! You're probably not even good enough for training!"
Roman sauntered over to Jaune's prone body, placing one foot against the back of the boy's head, pressing it deeper into the mushy snow as the thief wrenched off his shield from his arm.
"Now I know that this doesn't even belong to you," Roman said, brushing off some of the dirt that got on his new shield before figuring out how to collapse it back into his sheath. "All this trouble over a sword you don't even deserve, pathetic."
As Roman walked over to pick up the remaining sword, clipping the shield to his waist, Jaune just laid there, face down in the snow, fading in and out of consciousness.
The words stung. Stung worse than the cuts exposed to the cold air. Roman was right. That sword didn't belong to him, he was no better thief than he was, but at least he could get away with it.
Jaune agonizingly turned his head towards Roman as he leaned down and picked up his sword- no, his grandfather's sword. That sword belonged to a true hero. A man who fought for and sacrificed everything to keep those he loved safe.
It doesn't belong to me…
Jaune watched as the smug bastard pulled out his cigar case, leaning against the railing overlooking the canal. The sight made Jaune clench the snow around him, squeezing so tight his knuckles turned white.
But it sure doesn't belong to him either!
As Roman lighted a cigar, Jaune pelted the back of his coat with a snowball. The thief turned to see him barely standing, blood smearing his face as he held another snowball.
"Give it… back." Jaune growled out.
"A snowball? Really? Why don't you be a graceful loser and lie back down in the snow while I finish my victory smoke? Save yourself from any more trouble."
"GIVE IT BACK!" Jaune yelled as he hurled another snowball, sailing just above Roman's head, and plowed right into his bowler hat…
"My hat!" Roman exclaimed as he attempted to grasp his precious headpiece, nearly barreling over the canal's railing as his fingers grazed the wool felt, just a hair out of reach. The hat was carried away by the Solitas winds into the rushing waters below.
"Alright, kid." The hatless thief seethed. "You want your sword back? You can have it after the doctors pull it from your asshole when I shove it down your throat!"
Clutching his cane, Roman turned towards Jaune to exact his vengeance, in time to realize that the stubborn blonde had rushed in and kicked the thief right in the side where Crocea Mors was…
Click.
As soon as the foot made an impact, the sheath had expanded, the force of the weapon's activated mechanisms causing the shield to fly off Roman's waist as he was launched over the river's railing with a surprised yelp.
SPLASH!
Crocea Mors clattered back to the cobbled stone ground next to Jaune. The boy quickly grabbed his family heirloom, then stumbled over to the rail to see the notorious criminal splashing around in the water. Seeing Roman sputter in the dirty city water caused Jaune to chuckle, which then bubbled into full-blown laughter.
"Atlas's Greatest Criminal, my butt!" Jaune yelled down to the river below. If Roman had any witty remark, it was inaudible through the water he sputtered out of his mouth as he splashed around in the river.
"What's wrong, idiot?! Nothing to say now that you aren't so tough?"
"H-Hel-"
"What was that?!"
"Pffft H-Help! I-I can't swim!"
Jaune watched the helpless thief try his best to stay above water as he digested the information.
"Oh. OH CRAP! H-Hold on! I'll uh…," Jaune looked frantically around him for any other souls who could help until he noticed Roman come up for one last gulp of desperate air before disappearing below the water.
Jaune quietly cursed as he dropped the weapon and shed his backpack before hopping off the railing and into the river below.
~O~O~O~O~O~
The two men gasped for air as Jaune pulled Roman and himself out of the river onto a stone ledge, resting above the water line. Next to them were a set of stairs that lead back to the streets above.
Roman coughed up some water and sat on the cobblestone stairs as Jaune lay on the ground, his body aching too much to stand.
The rescued thief watched his unlikely savior for a few seconds as he caught his breath, before stating the obvious.
"You… saved me."
The blonde just tiredly nodded, staring up at the stone bridge that hung over their little platform, saying nothing and prompting Roman to speak again.
"Why?"
"Huh?" Jaune asked as he slowly sat up, scooting his back to the wall to better look at Roman. "Why wouldn't I?"
"Don't patronize me, kid. I was robbing you of your family heirloom and kicked your ass."
"Yeah, but you were drowning," Jaune said. "Just because you're a huge jerk doesn't mean I'll sit by and watch you die."
Roman studied Jaune's face, looking for any hint of deceit. When he found none, he smirked.
"Dumbass."
"WHAT?!"
"I said you're a dumbass, kid," Roman confirmed. "If you're naive enough to save someone who just mugged you, then this Kingdom will chew you up and spit you out." The thief said as he gestured towards Jaune as he sat soaking wet and beaten black and blue…
"Wait a minute. Why isn't your Aura healing your wounds?"
"My… Aura?"
Roman's eyes bulged as he looked at Jaune like he had grown a second head.
"NO!" the flabbergasted crook exclaimed. "No way. You can't be this dumb. Do you not know what Aura is?!"
"I-I know what Aura is!" Jaune defended as he tried to hide his embarrassment. "My dad is a Huntsman for crying out loud. I know what it is. It's a forcefield, right? It protects you from damage and gives you a superpower?"
Roman facepalmed and sighed loudly. "Look, Blondie, it's more complicated than that, but it's technically correct." He rubbed his chin as he organized his thoughts. "Let's see, how do I explain it. Think of Aura as a sort of energy battery that's in your soul or whatever. This energy can be used to do a few things, generate a forcefield as you said, heal wounds, boost your muscles, and even interact with Dust Crystals. And depending on your Semblance, your superpower, it may have to be powered by your Aura."
"And so yeah, a useful battery, but just like a battery, if you use all its energy, you can't use it anymore unless you recharge it. It can also- so- Yes, Jaune?"
Jaune had his hand raised like a student in class. "How does it recharge? Does it, like, feed off your soul?"
"How the hell should I know? You tell me, aren't you going to Bulwark for this stuff?"
"Y-Yeah, I'm going there because I don't know this stuff."
"And you're going there without your Aura activated?" Roman said incredulously. "Well, hot shot, how did you plan on becoming a Huntsman without your 'force field?' It's a miracle you survived that explosion. How do you think you're going to survive a Beowolf claw?"
"I was hoping to find someone there to activate it," Jaune said non-committedly, the idea sounding half-assed and reckless now that he was saying it. "I'll just have to make it work, I guess."
Roman studied the young man closely before sighing and stood up from his seat on the stairs. "Stand up."
"Huh? Why?"
"I'm going to unlock your Aura."
Jaune stood as quickly as his aching body could. "R-Really? You'd do that for me?!"
"Don't get all soft and mushy on me, Blondie," Roman said as he helped Jaune stand straight. "I'm not one for being indebted to people, especially to idiots. Consider this repayment for saving my life by saving yours. You won't last a day in Bulwark without Aura."
"T-Thankyou! So what do I need to do? Do I need to make a certain pose or-"
"Just shut up before I change my mind."
Jaune's mouth snapped shut, not wanting to let this golden opportunity go to waste. He silently watched as Roman placed a hand on his shoulder and one over his breastplate, just where his heart was.
Then he started glowing orange…
"For it is in our cunning that we shape the world to our will. Through this, we defy all odds and obtain our deserved fame and glory. An eye for an eye and honor among thieves, I release your soul, and by my code repays thee."
It was as if the words flowed into Jaune, sinking into his soul and causing something to burst forth. A white light surrounded him as what felt like pure energy began to flow through his being.
For a second, Roman looked tired, but as he watched the light cast over Jaune, he let out a whistle.
"Not bad, Blondie. You got yourself quite the Aura reserve."
Jaune paid little mind to Roman's words as he looked at his arms and saw his cuts close shut and bruises fade away. He could also feel the energy flow through his bones as they healed fractures and repaired his broken ribs. When the glowing faded, Jaune took in a deep breath and felt…
"Amazing." The knight uttered, now feeling reinvigorated and healed. "This is amazing! Why doesn't everyone do this?"
Roman shrugged, "Several dumb reasons. Some morons believe that having Aura attracts Grimm."
"I-Is that true?" Jaune paled.
"Probably not. Anyways now that I've repaid my debt, I'll get go-"
"ACHOO!"
The tense silence after Jaune sneezed directly into Roman's face was so palpable you could cut it with a knife. The thief looked perturbed as the knight covered his mouth with utter embarrassment and horror.
"I. Am. So sorry." Jaune began. "I didn't mean to a-a ACHOO!"
Another sneeze came, but luckily he sneezed into his elbow instead of on Roman again, who was now noticing that the two of them were shivering cold.
"Well, this won't do," Roman said, reaching into his sopping-wet coat pockets.
"W-w-w-w-What are you doing?" Jaune shivered as his body started shaking.
"O-o-our clothes are wet and we're standing in about 30-degree temperature. I can't officially repay you for saving my life if I let you freeze to death. O-o-open your palm."
Jaune tried his best to keep his arm steady as Roman fished out a vial of red Dust and poured some of it into the young man's hand, instantly warming his palms.
"Now that you have your Aura unlocked, here's a good way to use it," Roman said, pouring the vial into his hand. "Watch."
Jaune did just that, observing how Roman closed his eyes and focused, his Aura around his hand flaring first orange, then red, causing the wet glove to steam. Soon the red light spread throughout his form, covering his entire body until it finally dissipated, leaving Roman Torchwick's stylish clothes completely dry.
"Whoaaaa," Jaune said in amazement. "Was that your Semblance?"
"Nope. That was Fire Dust." Roman answered smugly. "And now it's your turn to try. I want you to remember the energy you felt when it first flowed through you. Think hard about what it exactly felt like. Then I want you to focus that feeling on your hand that's holding the Fire Dust. Then when you feel the energy growing, imagine that feeling spreading from your hand across your body. Like water droplets in a shower, or slowly submerging into a swimming pool."
Jaune nodded, took a deep breath, then focused. He imagined the warmth that first spread over him and imagined it all in his palm, growing brighter and hotter. It began to feel intense, like putting his hand near an open flame. Before it got too much, he imagined the heat spreading evenly along his entire body, basking him in what felt like a hot summer's day.
As he felt the heat of the Fire Dust runout, he let his Aura fade with it. After a moment of feeling himself up, he discovered himself to be completely dry and toasty!
"Nice job Blondie!" Roman clapped in approval. "You're a pretty fast learner! I was ready to laugh as you blew yourself up again, but you got it in one shot."
Jaune couldn't help but chuckle, "Too bad. But really, thank you, Roman. You know, I think you'd make an awesome teacher!"
"Oh really?" Roman smiled. "Let me teach you one last lesson about Aura before I leave."
He placed a hand on Jaune's shoulder. "So you know that Aura can be applied as a force field, but I bet you didn't know you had to consciously activate it for it to protect you."
"Really?" Jaune asked. "So it doesn't automatically protect me?"
"Nope, for example..."
Next thing Jaune knew, Roman had swung his leg and kicked him right in the groin, causing him to bowl over on himself and lay on the ground. As Jaune coughed in pain, he squinted up at his teacher.
"W-why would you do that?!" He groaned.
"Don't think I forgot how you botched my robbery, kid. That was payback for all the trouble you've caused me." The thief crouched down and riffled through Jaune's pockets for his wallet. "And this is to cover the expenses for a new hat, twerp."
Jaune continued to clutch his privates as Roman walked towards the nearby stairs, whipped out a cigar, and lit it, letting out a satisfied sigh as he breathed smoke.
"Consider this your final lesson for the day, Arc. This Kingdom feeds off the naive and trusting schmucks like you. If you wanna make it big, you gotta play dirty. And if playing dirty doesn't work, get nasty." With another puff, the infamous criminal turned and smiled at Jaune.
"I expect big things from you, kid. Don't you dare disappoint me." With those words, Roman began his assent of the stone stairs towards the streets of Mantle, yelling back towards Jaune some final parting words as the boy's Aura slowly repaired his nuts.
"Oh, and by the way! Welcome to Atlas!"