Arc V: Path of the Hero

Chapter 55: Desert Memory

Somewhere, in a desert far, far away, a burning wind punished the landscape and seared the ground in every direction. Harsh sunrays infused the air with enough dry heat to wring out moisture from the hardiest arid vegetation. No mercy, no respite and no place to hide.

"...gah!"

"...urgh!"

"...hngh!"

Yet what stood out the most was the distinct ringing of clashing iron.

Trapped within the sands of time was a colossal stone woman, a remnant from a past that no one remembered. If she was alive, perhaps she'd have something to say; for starters, why were there two voe - Hylians, no less - trespassing on sacred ground? Were they blood-brothers, considering their green attire, blonde hair and sharp faces?

And why were they fighting like their lives depended on it?

Jaune's answer was simple - a cross-slice with his soldier's spear that Link backflipped over to flurry rush. Even the sand couldn't slow the Hero's thrusts, the last one catching his spear and flipping him for Link to roundhouse kick midair.

With Courage glowing, Jaune landed on his feet and dowsed his weapon with Aural fire. Link approached calmly, intending to be the hunter, not the hunted, but that was okay - he unleashed an energy beam volley and dashed after the last shot. Link swung wide, missed when Jaune rolled under to bat the beam back, then stumbled when the latter's spear buried itself beneath his guard.

"Hmm. While it seems you took my spear lessons to heart, don't assume I will fall for the same trick twice."

"Wasn't counting on it," Jaune retorted, grabbing fistfuls of sand and falling into a Yang-inspired boxer's stance. "What kind of Hero would I be if I couldn't adapt?"

Link hummed, then charged. Jaune's Aural fire melted the sand into molten glass balls, and Link was forced to dodge or be hit by improvised lava grenades -

Only to land in Jaune's sight when he punched the sand at an angle. With his Semblance fuelling the Silver Gauntlets, his blow sent a fiery shockwave with enough force to actually stagger Link when he blocked it.

That was his cue. Jaune sprinted once more upon retrieving his spear, and the two met in a whirlwind of strikes and parries that grew ever faster. Eventually, they locked spears in a battle of wills, and though his predecessor was leagues more experienced, Jaune's Silver Gauntlets evened the odds.

The colossal stone woman thought otherwise.

"You truly believe you have a chance?"

Jaune growled, feeling the heat and sweat trickling down his brow. "I know I do."

"My skill with the spear is greater than yours, and will soon deplete your Aura powering those gauntlets. What will you do then?"

Link pushed him a foot back. Jaune dug in.

"Will you continue fighting? Even in the face of defeat?" Link pressed as his voice acquired a richer timbre. His form shimmered into an equally tall suited figure with white hair and glasses. "Can the world really depend on some random no-name huntsman?"

Jaune's grip tightened when not-Ozpin's hair grew into long, black locks while staring with eyes of dancing fire. "A man without friends and a Hero whose claim to fame is failure?"

He forced through visions of Beacon and Haven as his Triforce shrilled a little louder. It reached a crescendo when Cinder faded to a mirror image of himself, save for silver hair, a bloodied green tunic and eyes of red and Malice.

There is no power in Courage. Only oblivion.

Oblivion?

There wouldn't be oblivion. Not until the absolute certainty that his friends and family were safe.

And if the only way was to slaughter his enemies...

Jaune's sudden assault brought them closer to the Desert Colossus. Link shimmered back to his original form and yelled something out, but if he replied, it was lost to the void. In fact, the surroundings grew hazy as well, and Link's face flashed between his mentor and others. Some had sandy blonde hair, others had a distinct blue hoop earring, and for a moment, a massive wolf with grey-green fur returned his gaze.

All of them, without fail, had the same blue eyes and looked frighteningly similar to Link and himself.

Yet nothing would distract him from finishing the mission. He would sacrifice mind and body to neutralize the threat. Fulfilling his duty gave him neither pain nor pleasure, only the dull contentment there would be one less threat to the world. That desire was perhaps the only emotion he was capable of feeling.

He blinked, and the sunlight vanished. In place of the Desert Colossus was a massive brick wall, shrouded in shadow except for a pair of empty bloodied handcuffs illuminated by torches.

Link...was still there, though bruised, emaciated and garbed in a ragged green tunic. His voice was also harsher, spewing ancient, foreign words whose timbre was like iron garbed in thunder.

The two clashed once more with Link scoring a deep cut across his thigh in a back-slice uppercut combo he'd never seen. When they locked spears, it was upon a once-green field now dotted with weapons, broken arrows and lifeless bodies. Smoke rose from a burning horizon, and before him stood a massive humanoid shadow -

One with writhing crimson hair and piercing fiery eyes.

There was no fear. No anger.

Only the mellow urge to end it for good. He wanted this. He really, really did.

Which was why he paused when the demon raised his left hand to reveal Courage green as the light of Farore. To his surprise, so did his - without control or self-prompting.

Burning pain immediately shot out across his body, and Jaune doubled over as the massive blood moon overhead shrunk to a normal silver sheen. Gone was the battlefield and towering shadow, the latter replaced by the familiar stony gaze of the Desert Colossus.

Jaune flinched when a gentle hand touched his shoulder. "W-wha...? Where am I...?"

"You...no, we are safe for now. To say that was troubling would be an understatement," Link grunted, helping Jaune lean against the wall. A small campfire burned invitingly nearby to stave off the now-freezing sands, though it was somewhat counteracted by the ominous winds blowing from the shadowed entrance, along with how the old Hero looked so weary. He couldn't remember if he'd ever seen Link so exhausted.

"Are you alright?"

"Mhmm."

"Okay, then. Just...be honest with me," Jaune continued as Link sat crosslegged opposite the fire. "What's going on? Why was my Triforce piece glowing green? Even the way I moved felt off, like I had no control over what I wanted. I didn't, yet I did. Like I was being controlled." He narrowed his eye. "And those visions..."

Draped in his red cloak, Link was silent for some time, and the shadows the fire cast granted him a stoic, chiselled appearance.

"...when I was still alive, in an age long before we were cursed, my time as a knight ended...unceremoniously. I was betrayed, imprisoned and freed only by ironic circumstances. 'We had no need for a powerful Hero', the people said, and yet who did they turn to when demons poured forth from the abyss?"

The desert winds picked up slightly, though they were spared the worst of the blowing sand. "I lost my life on the battlefield you saw. The Goddess' intervention sealed their leader - the first Demon King - while sacrificing her immortality so we could reincarnate and protect the Triforce."

"Only to curse us all when he was freed..."

"And thus began the legendary cycle."

Jaune sighed. "Our lessons, spars and time together...not once have I ever seen something so vivid. Lucid. Real. The other world you took me through was like touring a museum, an empty shell without the Heroes who belonged there. This is different, and not in a good way." He held up his left hand, sans Triforce. "Is it all because of this?"

Link met his gaze. "To start, the reason why you felt like you weren't in control is because you weren't. I was."

An unpleasant chill raced down his spine.

"I have long suspected I could...entice you to act through the Triforce since it is bound to the soul of the Hero, but I refrained from doing so since possession is a grave sin that opposes the natural law Nayru granted this world. This time, I did so to bring you back from the brink of oblivion, lest we both lose ourselves to the Triforce."

"..."

"I will not lie and say it is okay, for such dominion never is," Link continued. "In a similar vein, it is also why I prefer to remain unknown to your friends. Your agency is your own. And while our circumstances are somewhat different, I refuse to walk the slippery slope in becoming your Ozpin."

Hearing that was a little comforting, though not enough to ease the growing mental pressure. "I...I see. I have a feeling he suspects something's up. Isn't it better just to be upfront?"

"Yes, and he can learn when the need is absolute. Just because you share a common goal doesn't mean you'll agree on the means, and I will not risk him abusing the Triforce through you. His self-control is admirable and his circumstances are tragic, though desperation is a powerfully misguided impulse."

Link held his hand up to reveal Courage. Jaune mirrored it, somewhat antsy if it would flip to green again. "What's important right now is this. I will confess that I've never seen the Triforce act in such a way before."

"It's not killing me, is it?"

"The Triforce remains a divine artifact whose power can overwhelm those without the strength to house it. Feeling its effects once I took the reins..." Link shook his head. "Your heroic nature warped into an extreme desire for justice with no remorse or room for morality. It's as if your humanity was suppressed."

Jaune shuddered. "And no Hero had ever experienced this before?"

"Some Heroes never even wielded the Triforce. We sail on uncharted waters, Jaune."

So, they really were on their own. The irony wasn't lost on him, like how the King of Thieves survived via divine prank until facing the Hero of Twilight. Was this also because of Courage, or had he truly become so desensitized to danger?

Or had he already accepted it deep down, knowing there was no other alternative?

"In the end, I guess it doesn't really matter. Was this how Oscar felt when he realized the extent of Ozpin's curse? I can't stop when the fate of the world's on my shoulders. There's still so much left to do. Whatever happens...I'll find a way to fight it."

"And you will," Link replied, standing at the stairs atop the sand. The full moon had since vanished beneath an oncoming sandstorm. "I shall call this condition Virtus Toxicosis until we learn more, but never forget how far you've come. As you promised Oscar, so too I promise you that we will find a way."

Jaune joined him in the storm as his vision faded to darkness, somehow knowing he could believe Link's words.

(==|======-

When it cleared, the first thing he noticed was the cold.

It was actually quite warm, yet Jaune shivered anyway upon throwing his blanket off and feeling the air touch his sweaty skin. Rather than moonlight, the dim orange haze of the dawn sun drifted in through closed window shutters, and all he could hear in the early morning quiet was his agitated breathing.

"Ugh. My body hurts. Sleep's supposed to heal you, not make everything feel worse."

Perhaps it was the few long days of travel after leaving Lurelin Village. A rushed pace and lack of sleep did not a happy Hero make, with more sure to come in decidedly less hospitable conditions.

All while knowing that the more he relied on his greatest asset, the closer it brought him to the brink.

"...we will find a way, huh?"

Glancing around revealed a small, simple yet comfortable mudbrick room. To his left, a smooth glass pipe trailed down a wall to a kitchen sink, and by the window to his right was a desk where he stacked his sword, shield and equipment. Despite modern amenities, the interior design felt like it was older than he realized.

He headed for the sink and glanced at his grouchy self in the mirror. Aura, while a wonderful thing, was in the business of healing and not beautifying, thus highlighting the occasional white scar across his body. The one inflicted by Dark Link on his blinded eye had somewhat faded, though he'd admit the eyepatch had grown on him - much like his nearly shoulder-length hair, which hid the Fireshield Earrings from the wind, and a thin layer of stubble that was days away from graduating the university of five-o'clock shadows.

"I wonder if Pyrrha would've approved..."

Upon showering, shaving and tying his hair into a ponytail, Jaune left some lien on his tidied bed and headed downstairs for breakfast. The inn was quiet, but not too silent as the early birds like himself nested on scattered tables across the café. The walls were also a pale mudbrick with a bar at the front, and torches bathed the interior in natural orange light that matched the outside rays.

After plopping down at a corner table with a sofa cushion, a tall woman with sharp green eyes, tan sari pants and gold bands approached him.

Her long ponytailed hair was the purest shade of red he'd ever seen.

Interesting. Could she be...?

"Sav'otta, young huntsman. You're not from around here, are you?"

"Sav'...otta?"

Hmm. Thought as much.

Jaune froze upon hearing that word, then gave himself a quick once-over. "Guilty as charged. Was it the clothes?"

"Mostly that, yes. If you'll be spending time in the desert, you're in dire need of a makeover." The lady raised an eyebrow. "You are quite the pretty voe, after all."

She laughed when his face matched her hair colour. "Alright, I'll stop. Anything you'd like for breakfast?"

"J-just some coffee and omelettes, please."

When she returned with the meal, Jaune called out before she could leave. "Wait. I, uh, have a question, if you don't mind."

"What is it, young voe?"

"That. That is my question," Jaune replied. "Sav'otta, voe...what language is that?"

"My old tribal tongue. Apologies, as sometimes I still fall into the habit of speaking it when not everyone can understand," she nodded. "It means 'good morning' and 'man', respectively."

He shook his head. "Please, don't apologize. I was just curious, and if anything, I think it's kinda cool. If I may ask, however...you said it was the language of your tribe, no?"

The lady seemed to stiffen. "Have you heard of the saying that curiosity killed the cat?"

"Well...I'm not a cat, and I sure hope curiosity is huntsman trained."

After a few moments, she hesitantly sat down. "In a place like this, information is equally valuable as lien and water. If you answer my questions, I'll answer yours. Fair?"

He offered a hand, which she took with a rather firm grip. "You have a deal, miss...?"

"Cara. You?"

"Jaune."

"Mhmm. Where did you come from?"

"Vale. You said those words were from your tribe's language, right?"

Cara nodded. "Yes. Where did you train? Beacon?"

Jaune was about to interject, then realized what happened when she smirked. "Dammit, you got me. Yeah, I studied there until last year."

"The fact you survived such things is a testament to your strength," she replied, smirk softening as she no doubt realized what that meant.

"Thanks." He returned it, albeit stilted. "Wasn't easy. Your tribe, though - what are they called?"

Cara drew something small that glinted in the light and skidded it over beside his plate. The dagger's clear blade gave Jaune a peek at his reflection alongside an engraved symbol reminiscent of a king cobra.

And while he'd never seen it before, it felt familiar nonetheless.

"They are known as Kerutah. One of many nomadic tribes this side of the world, and also one of the most unforgiving." Cara closed her eyes. "Our numbers had always been small, and children are raised from birth to become fearless warriors. Huntsman you may be, I still advise you not to underestimate the spear sisters."

"Noted. Sounds like you speak of them distantly, as if you've been separated or no longer belong to the tribe. Did something happen?"

"Yes. My parents wished for a more peaceful life and escaped when I was still a child. We settled down here after a long, gruelling journey - one paid for by my mother's ultimate sacrifice."

Jaune pursed his lips. "I'm sorry."

"It's in the past. While growing up was harsh, refusing to endure would've dishonoured her memory; my father worked hard and so did I as soon as I could, starting at a jewelry store that closed some time ago. And now I'm here."

She eyed him intently. "I have taken your measure. I will not ask if knowing a little about my ancestral tribe dissuades you, since you clearly remained unfazed, though I'd like you to answer one more question. For what purpose do you seek them out?"

"Several reasons, each with more questions behind them. If I had to choose one, it would be because -"

"- they have something I need."

Silence stretched until Cara acquiesced by taking her dagger back. "Very well. Do you at least have some kind of inkling as to your next steps?"

Jaune shook his head. "I came here hoping to learn more. As you can see -" he patted himself down - "I'm not exactly, uh, familiar with the area. Or with anything here at all."

Cara chuckled and stood. "Well, if I'm going to play tour guide, I will need a cup of coffee."

When she returned a second time, she brought a map of the town with various locations circled in red. Taafei's Bazaar, as she explained, was half tent city and half mudbrick buildings like the inn. No one remembered who Taafei was, but the place had been a crossroads town for drifters and merchants for as long as anyone's great-grandparents could recall. It endured beneath the shadowed passes of the Zirco Mesa, which were the sites of many battles in the distant past.

And then there were the deserts proper. Vacuo lay east of an enormous patch of blank map, which Cara divided into several sections. The slightly greener north, known as the Rayne Highlands, was littered with mountains, ridgelines and, according to Cara, plenty of abandoned settlements.

"Isn't that where Revali and Teba are from? Hope they're doing alright..."

She continued to the Karusa Wastelands, the southernmost portion which was known for sandstorms, and finished with the desert directly opposite the mesa.

"...like the others, the Toruma Barrens is a harsh place. Hidden pits, rivers of quicksand and dunes that constantly shift amidst powerful winds. Not to mention the monsters within. Along with the bandit tribes, they've become more active over the past year. If you're unlucky enough, it is there you'll find my blood-sisters. Just keep heading east."

"Noted," Jaune replied, sliding over some lien and heading for the exit. He turned at the threshold, then nodded respectfully. Cara returned it. "Thanks for all the help. Any last tips before I step into the great unknown?"

Her smirk returned. "Unless you want cuddles, tie your clothes tight to your limbs when you sleep so little critters don't join you in bed. Sav'aaq, young man. I wish you safe travels and victory over your enemies."

Exhaling, Jaune stepped outside and squinted as a few children in light cloth shawls ran past, a steady breeze blowing away the dust they kicked up. The sandy streets lay somewhere between busy and empty; multicoloured tent fabrics and upbeat ambience overshadowed the few abandoned mudbrick houses, granting a semblance of life that would've otherwise been absent in the wilderness.

Tracking the source revealed what was an actual bazaar - a tight cluster of tents circling an open forum with a large well in the middle. Merchants called out for their wares, and people who didn't peruse were busy drinking coffee at other tents. Despite the rapidly climbing heat, the area smelled rather aromatic.

It was here Jaune found the first of what Cara circled - a stall that sold camping rations like those given to Atlesian soldiers. Before long, the heat became sweltering as morning advanced to noon, and with an inventory full of supplies, Jaune slumped in the shade of a ruined building.

"Food, check. Water and purification tablets, check. Wallet full of air?" He looked inside to find only a few measly bills. "Also check. I don't know if I'll have enough after -"

A crashing noise echoed further down the alley.

Resisting the urge to reach for his sword, Jaune rounded a corner and nearly tripped over what could only be called a bear-sized brown beetle.

Jaune drew his weapon.

"W-w-wait! Hold on, there!"

Jaune held on.

Upon closer inspection, the bear-sized brown beetle was not local fauna, but a canvas bag in the shape of one. Tied-up sacks and smaller packs were fastened along the sides, flailing when the main bag reared back to reveal a freckled man with blue jorts, a large red-and-white cloth poncho and a perfectly rounded bowl haircut. "I-I'm not a monster, I swear!"

"Um, I believe you," Jaune replied slowly. Before he could offer a hand, the man shot upright with more speed than one would've expected underneath such a meaty bag. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, just watch where you step," he sighed, patting his knees. "The winds blow sand to bury rocks and cracks that'll break your ankle. Hopefully, I'll survive the walk to the market..."

Jaune glanced between man and bag. "I take it you're a merchant, then."

The man narrowed his eyes. "Are...are you...a customer?"

"Well, I'm looking for any clothes or armour to get me through the desert." Jaune tapped his chestplate. "If you have anything on sale, then -"

"OOOOOHHHHH!"

The man took off into the alley. When the dust settled, Jaune spat out sand and followed suit to find him sitting cross-legged beneath the shaded spot. The smaller sacks were opened and spread out, a cloth awning jutted out from his bag, and he even had a mini-kiosk before him. "Ah, my first customer of the day! You can call me Beedle, and if you forget my name, just remember my beetle-shaped bag!"

"That's convenient. And I'm Jaune, a huntsman. Nice to meet you. So what've you got?"

"I deal in everything and anything. Better yet, if you have any junk, I'll buy them too! That way, you'll always be getting something!" His grin widened a little too much. "Especially beetles. Send them my way if you see any. I want them. I want them all. Heh. Heheheh..."

Jaune's fingers twitched to his sheathed sword.

Beedle shook his head confused. "Sorry. I don't know what came over me. Please, look around!"

With some hesitation, Jaune began rifling through the furthest bag. As the merchant mentioned, there was varied stock inside, from dust and handmade arrows to preserved herbs and dried fruits. After a few minutes, he returned with bite-sized red organic balls which were apparently some sort of all-purpose bait, and a pair of...well, pears. They were yellow, had natural holes that looked like terrified faces, and according to Beedle, birds loved Hyoi pears enough to swoop down and steal them from people's hands.

Useful in certain situations, no doubt, though he didn't come all this way for simple groceries.

Jaune paid for both and continued over to the last few bags. Cloaks, shawls, boots and bandanas - while a few caught his eye, everything he found wasn't what he was looking for. It soon became clear that Beedle's wares had nothing worthy of a full makeover.

At least until he hit the very last bag, for when he touched something metallic and looked in...

"Oh, yeah. It's all coming together."

(==|======-

Just two weeks ago, he was sailing across a crystalline blue landscape with friends and a whole lot of downtime. Sure, it might've been some of the world's most dangerous waters, where one wrong choice could strand them far away from civilization, though at least he had company. Not to mention food, shelter and air conditioning.

If there was one thing that carried over, it was danger. An inevitable parting gift when nothing else stayed the same; rather than a steamboat, Jaune surfed down the occasional dune on his shield, and the only companion he had was a ghost in his brain. With their powers combined, they stood amid yet another ocean - this time, a sand sea. Barren as its name, the same wherever he looked, and hot enough to wear down the strongest resolve.

And yet he still walked.

With nary a cloud to be seen - partially because of the hood drawn over his face - Jaune trudged through sand that rose and fell from gales that whipped around him. When the sun dipped, he re-equipped his pine green sweater to stave off the cold, and if he was lucky, he'd find a large rock to sleep beneath.

His reward? Even more sand. Sometimes in his mouth too when he accidentally inhaled some.

Tired, aching and starving beneath the noonday sun, Jaune spat it out before chomping on some hydromelon. The fruit patch had been a fortunate find as it stretched out his dwindling rations, and the moisture within smacked two birds with one stone. A good snack for sitting on the edge of a small cliff while gazing across the Toruma Barrens for...anything, really.

"...it looks the same wherever I go. And the sand. Ugh. It's coarse and rough and irritating, and it gets everywhere."

You're in a desert, Jaune.

"I want out already," he mentally complained, resisting the urge to speak out loud lest he swallow more fine particles. "Respect to those who survive and thrive here. To live your whole life in such a hostile place...have past Heroes gone through this too?"

Plenty, Link grunted, and Jaune pictured him sitting nearby on the cliff. The Hero of Twilight travelled through one to an ancient prison so he could cross between worlds. The Hero of Time bore sandstorms to free a possessed sage. The Hero of the Wild fought divine beasts and parasitic undead to save those living in the desert. Perhaps others who we have yet to meet as well.

"Those living in the desert...Cara called them Kerutah. Think they're the same?"

If Cara is the sole example, then I would assume so. Or at least, their descendants. The consequences of time, no doubt, but a tribe of warrior women known as the Gerudo first appeared before the Era of Time. At some points they were thieves, others, peaceful nomads. Regardless of the name they now go by, Cara is right in that they were always resilient.

"Hmm..." Jaune narrowed his eye. "Would the Kerutah know of the Triforce or their past with the Demon King? Am I walking into a trap?"

Link was silent for a moment.

Only one way to find out.

Jaune finished his hydromelon slice, stored the rest for later and shield-surfed down into a valley. The moment he hit the bottom, geysers of sand spurted into the air to reveal a group of conical plant-like monsters with green skin and mandibles at their tips. He simply rolled past while striking the Leevers that came too close, eventually whittling them down until the last few burrowed back underground. Be they Tektites, Lizalfos, more Leevers or some combo of all three, he was pestered enough over the next several hours to the point where running into Grimm excited him.

Less so when the Dromedon herd was overwhelmed by swarms of Moldorms.

By the next day, restless nights, depreciating food supplies and even more goddamn sand wore his patience to within an inch of snapping. Heat be damned, he needed to hit something, and hit it hard.

It soon came in the form of a Jaune-sized hand that burst from the ground and ensnared him in its grip. He fought, he struggled, then worried when nothing was working. Greater strength aside, every swing went through the Geldman's arm like air.

But what if it wasn't?

Jaune jammed his sword in its armpit and infused Aural fire like a conduit, cooking the Geldman's body. It screamed as its arm and torso vitrified into glass that was totally not more solid than a million fine particles, and this time, stabbing the Geldman disintegrated him while releasing smoky Malice from the now-inert sand.

Sighing, Jaune plopped down on a nearby boulder and took a drink. He cringed upon feeling the increasingly lighter weight of his canteen.

"No melons, and no mirages to even give me false hope there might be something nearby. All I can see around me is sand, more sand, an odd-looking rock spire and - wait, what?"

The lone small rock butte stuck out like a sore thumb, though what truly caught his eye floated a small distance above it. No amount of dehydration could trick him with the sight of a stark red balloon in the middle of nowhere.

Be it curiosity or desperation, Jaune found the strength to keep on going. All he had to do was cross a sizeable torrent of quicksand that matched the speed of river rapids.

Scanning the area yielded nothing at first until something poked out of the sand - a rotting wooden board. He hopped on with some hesitation, worrying that it'd collapse under his weight, though to his and Link's relief, the board sustained it. Another appeared further up the river and Jaune waded into the tide, half-panicking as he sank until making it to...climb aboard.

Panting, another glance revealed more to find more debris dotting the sandstream, though at increasingly spaced-out distances. He'd drown for sure if he tried that again.

Luckily, he had a failsafe of the hooking kind.

With careful aim, Jaune used the hookshot to zip between boards and beat the current until landing on solid ground. He then clambered up the butte to find the oddest sight beneath the red balloon -

"A...a man?"

One clad in a bright green jumpsuit with red underwear, but a man nonetheless. Maybe it was the surprise of hearing another voice, for when the odd fellow glanced down, whatever the balloon attached to his back popped.

The man stilled, yelped and faceplanted a few seconds later. Jaune ran over to help when the dust settled. "Hey, you okay there?"

"My back...my face...my everything...and who exactly are -"

He paused upon getting one good glimpse of Jaune. Eyes widening, he scrambled a few feet back and literally squealed. "Are...are you...a fairy?"

A gentle wind blew past in the silence of the desert.

"...I am a huntsman."

"That...that aura! That feeling! That magic!" he continued, stalking forward with every word. It was even weirder when he looked completely unfazed by the desert heat despite the jumpsuit, and the rosy swirls on his cheeks somehow looked natural.

"This man probably isn't, though. Some kind of undiscovered monster?"

Well, he is definitely something else.

The middle-aged man peered up at him like a kid seeing his celebrity idol in the flesh. "I knew it! You are a fairy! I can sense your magic, yes I can! Only real fairies can tell each other apart!"

"Um, are you okay? You did fall and hit your head, so -"

"I shall now call you Mr Fairy!"

"I'd rather you call me Jaune," he sighed as the man twirled in place with more glee than anyone in the desert should have. "Seriously, if you need help, then -"

"No, no, no, sir. Tingle doesn't need help. Tingle needs fairies!" the not-fairy replied. "You see, I am trapped in this prison of skin and bone when I used to be a fairy long ago! I remember it clear as day! Those beautiful forests and endless oceans...I've been trying to go back ever since, good sir."

"Is this why you're out here in the middle of nowhere?"

"Precisely!" Tingle replied. "I've spent ages revisiting old places in the hopes I might learn something to bring me back. To restore that fairy magic."

He couldn't help but feel a little pity.

"And you are searching for something too. Your magic tells me all I need to know," Tingle smiled softly. Genuinely. Jaune stiffened. "From fairy to fairy, I understand."

"...I'm not a fairy."

"That is why we must be friends! Yes! Yes, of course!" Tingle grinned, spinning again. "In exchange, I shall share with you the fruits of my labours for a good price as well."

He handed over a tied, rolled-up scroll while holding a pile of more. Upon unfurling it, Jaune's eye widened at the sight of western Sanus, detailed to the last cave, oasis and quicksand river - including the one he just braved. What he focused on, however, was a small village marker about a half-day's journey to the east. Despite his eccentricity, Tingle was one hell of a cartographer.

Which also meant he was far out of the means to afford it.

Tingle looked borderline offended when Jaune returned it. "Look, I'm grateful, and I can tell how much effort you spent on it, though I'm, uh, a little strapped for cash and I don't want to give you nothing -"

"Lies! I can sense the magic you have!" Tingle blubbered. "I don't want money. I want to share the magic between us!"

A gentle wind blew past in the silence of the desert yet again.

Only to be broken by a sudden idea.

Tingle's eyes lit up when Jaune gave him a red rupee, snatching it as if rediscovering a long-lost keepsake! "Yes! Yes! Thank you so much, good sir! These may not be Kinstones or Force Gems, but they are magical all the same!"

"Luckily I still have more because of what I hoarded from the temples."

Jaune sighed, relieved. "Will that be enough?"

"One more red, to make forty," Tingle replied. Jaune forked another over. "That'll do, Mr Fairy."

"Thanks. Before I go, though, have you heard of the Kerutah?"

The cartographer tilted his head. "You search for the Gerudo? They'll find you. These are their hunting grounds, after all. I'd be surprised if they haven't been following you."

He raised an eyebrow. "Right. Um, thanks for the directions. And take care of yourself."

"You as well!" Tingle nodded as he took out an uninflated red balloon and attached it to his backpack. "You'll find your magic soon again. Just remember that wisdom is key - always has been. I believe in you."

"...you do?"

"I do! Kooloo-limpah!"

A puff of wind, and the balloon inflated to shoot Tingle back into the air. Jaune watched him level out before proceeding east, yet even as hours passed, he couldn't get the odd man out of his head.

Neither can I. There is something peculiar about him, Link agreed. I cannot deduce it, only that there's more than meets the eye.

"Yeah. Probably knows more than I realize. Or is he actually their scout?"

I doubt he tricked you. Odd behaviour aside, I sensed no malicious intent - only more mystery.

Jaune hummed. "One after the other. The most pressing one being where exactly am I going to spend the night."

Have you found that village you were looking for?

With some quick calculations, a glance at the map and the setting sun, Jaune guesstimated that he was probably...roughly...just maybe -

"Ah. Home sweet home."

The moment he crested a nearby dune, the rolling hills flattened somewhat, then rose again beneath mountains in the distance. A cluster of houses sat beside a shallow valley, all in the shadow of a massive sandstorm rolling down the nearby slopes.

Jaune paused. If he tried real hard, he could theoretically make it all tired and sweaty before being engulfed in the storm. Instead, he opted for the safer route and followed Tingle's map to a closer mountain cave that was tight as a small hotel room, and upon starting a fire, also the coziest shelter he had thus far.

It also gave enough warmth to continue wearing his desert outfit - a pale beige hooded cloak over a sleeveless turquoise tunic-like tabard, and the steel chestplate was stored away in favour of a lighter leather half-chest cuirass. It was fastened to a gold-and-green iron spaulder, though he retained the Silver Gauntlets over bare arms. So did Pyrrha's red sash, draped over bronzed steel hip faulds and loose red-brown pants, tucked into his usual boots with the addition of knee-high golden greaves.

Evening soon arrived and so did the sandstorm, blanketing the entrance while diluting the ambience of crackling fire with whistling gales. He'd check in with the village after the storm passed, and when it did so that night, the desert remained still as if untouched by time itself.

(==|======-

Stepping foot inside proved the exact opposite.

The rough morning didn't help as dwindling rations ensured a scant breakfast that couldn't fully mitigate his level of dehydration. Then he forced himself across the desert to the village, half-expecting to find someone - anyone - who can give him fresh water and point him in the right direction. Were the Kerutah in the mountains? Hiding deeper in the Toruma Barrens? Or should he have stayed put as Tingle implied, for they were actually all around him?

Simple, yet important questions. It would've been nice for someone to answer them. Unfortunately, there was no one was left to do so.

Huffing, Jaune create a dune and paused before a place that was a village in name only. The houses were still there, and...that was it. All he heard from the cluster of ruined mudbrick hovels was the low desert breeze slithering through, blowing off some sand nearby to reveal cracked animal skulls.

Keep your wits about you. There is a foreboding sense of ill intent in the air.

A quick scan of the area revealed nothing suspicious, so he stalked forward with a hand beneath the cloak on his sword. The closest building was less house, more three cracked walls and a fallen roof, which still yielded nothing from the rubble. It was the same story for the others, which either had broken furniture, rotting bedsheets, plate-sized Skulltulas or some combo of all three, though a hovel beside the central square contained a wooden chest with a bundle of ten arrows.

"I mean, I'll take it but I don't even have a bow. What are the chances I'll find one here that hasn't rotten away?"

Perhaps he'd have better luck in the other half of the village, where the one or two semi-intact houses stood opposite a central square with a dried-up well. What Jaune focused on, however, wasn't if he'd find something inside. Clearly, there wasn't much left to loot...

"...because it looks like this place got pillaged pretty good already. Deep grooves in the walls, broken arrow shafts and the occasional patch of dried blood...it's not a village anymore. It's a graveyard."

Surprising, then, that there weren't any Poes to greet him...or maybe he just hadn't looked hard enough. He thus sprinted through the central square and barged through the rotting door -

"...!"

Only to flinch at the tangible scent of decay. The first floor was in shambles, as if someone threw grenades into a furniture shop, and the ceiling looked like it could collapse at any second. Seeping through the planks was a dark, dry stain, no doubt the source of the odour. Clenching an arrowhead like a knife, every step up the stairs was rewarded with a deafening creak, and there was no need to open the door, for it had broken down already.

Much like the cloaked body at the other end of the room.

Jaune knelt by the corpse. Sitting against the wall as it spent its final moments in life, the skeleton was neither fresh nor too old either, and upon closer inspection, he could infer it was once a woman by the slender armour, gold bands and earrings that had scattered across the floor. Something sparkled beneath her skeletal hand, to which Jaune retrieved a dusty scimitar with certain engravings on the blade.

"The crest of the Gerudo -"

Careful. You're not alone.

"Huh? What did you just -"

Something in the house creaked.

Jaune froze.

He heard it again several seconds later, this time tracking it through the floor downstairs.

Gripping the scimitar, Jaune frantically glanced around as a softer creak echoed from the stairwell. Whoever the culprit was, the intent was clear for all to hear.

Which was why Jaune tore part of the skeleton's cloak, wrapped it around the scimitar and infused it with Aural fire before hurling it wildly down the stairs. Startled yelps answered back as he bolted out a window, though in hindsight, it probably wasn't the best idea since he didn't plan for what awaited him at the bottom. At least there was a row of dried bushes was there to break his fall.

Sort of.

Aura crackling, Jaune muffled his groan amidst the heavy stomping that thundered into the room he just escaped from. The pair of voices that followed were just as angry, undeniably female and argued in a language that instincts screamed at him was Kerutah - soon confirmed when he picked up voe multiple times, followed by more words that were surely all sorts of generous compliments. He had no time to thank them - Jaune stumbled through the rubble of multiple homes and hid in an alley behind some crates when clanking metal alerted him to reinforcements. Soon enough, another pair of armed women ran past while a third stopped before the intersection.

Like Cara, she was his height, athletic and red-haired. A thin cloth mask covered her mouth, but not the streaks of red war paint across her face. Then there was the black breastplate, gilded with gold and attached to leather spaulders, and bronzed scale mail covered her biceps and hips. Loose pants like his were tucked into spiked gladiator sandals - no doubt painful if he were to get kicked, more so poked by the trident she carried.

None of that happened when she sauntered past, allowing the hidden huntsman to continue his flight. Link's extra set of ghostly eyes helped him between shadowed cover and avoid Kerutah patrols, at one point having to throw rocks and distract those that came too close away.

Eventually, Jaune found himself cornered in a ruined house with no second floor to leap from and a pair of raiders coming closer.

"Okay, where can I go, where can I - dammit, there's nowhere to hide!"

Over there, by the cabinet.

"By the front door? I'll be spotted the moment they come in!"

Not if you distract them the right way.

"With what? They'll see me if I try and pick something up -"

Jaune paused.

"Wait."

They were almost there. Their conversation was already audible.

He'd join in, of course, by giving them something new to talk about. Namely, the fistful of bright red bait he scattered across the floor.

When the two raiders stepped in, their conversation halted upon seeing the all-purpose bait. They shared a glance, shrugged and knelt to investigate -

Allowing Jaune to sneakstrike one out cold, though the second raider was much too quick. She ducked and lurched backwards in some desperate mix between an elbow strike and body slam, failing to hit Jaune but toppling him over in a tangle of limbs. The two then engaged in a rather painful wrestling match over the rubble until she knocked him against the wall, grabbed her fallen sister's spear and trapped Jaune in a rear-naked chokehold.

"Urk!"

"Surrender, voe!" she grunted back in an accented voice. "And face the justice of the Seven Her - wah!"

With a yell, Jaune activated the Silver Gauntlets to flip his assailant over. Perhaps he underestimated the force needed, for she crashed through the front wall in a not-so-quiet manner.

The village erupted with alarmed yelling.

Panting, he took a knee. "Hah...dammit. There...goes...my cover."

Better your cover than your life, Link retorted. Prepare yourself!

Cracking his neck, Jaune stepped outside and drew his hood back to face the first challenger - another raider with similar armour, albeit with a green breastplate.

She drew dual scimitars and let out a war cry.

Jaune unsheathed Gilded Mors in a flourish.

The Kerutah warrior charged first, which he mirrored before lunging deep. She hopped over to slice his back, and when Jaune rolled away, he was forced to block the flying spin attack she drove into his shield like a dervish. Not to be outdone, Jaune let her pound his shield until she grabbed him, upon which a sudden headbutt dazed her long enough for Jaune to slash her away with a deep cut into her Aura.

One down, an unknown amount to go. Jaune barely had time to recover when yelling behind him revealed more Kerutah. He fired sword beams and took off, ducking when arrows sailed past his head while ramming through the one or two that tried intercepting him. It didn't take long until their numbers grew too great, and Jaune soon found himself back in the central square. Every possible avenue of approach was blocked off, and archers stood upon the few walls or rooftops low enough to climb past.

Surrounded by the Kerutah horde, Jaune unclasped his cloak, dowsed Gilded Mors with Aural fire and fell into a battle stance.

Courage rang to life.

"I...will not die here."

There was a momentary pause - along with looks of respect from a few Kerutah - before several charged at once. Jaune fell flat, dodging all their strikes to explode upwards and rocket back down in a Bombos attack that blew them away.

And yet they still came. More fell beneath Jaune's blade as he dodged, blocked and counterattacked without rest, a deadly dance of blood and iron that began to wear him down. Hero or not, he was only human.

But he must survive. He must do whatever it takes to live another day.

His senses screamed as something in the air crackled above him -

And Jaune backflipped from a lightning bolt that crashed down, only to instinctively flurry rush the perpetrator.

Imagine his shock when his first, second, third, fourth, fifth -

No, all his strikes were either blocked or parried. Only Dark Link had been able to accomplish such a feat, the fact surprising Jaune long enough for a golden sword pommel to whack him in the jaw. Jaune fell to his knees, the added stress of Virtus Toxicosis straining his diminished strength.

"Hmm. I take heart in seeing a man who fights with conviction. Even if that is tinged with desperation."

"Who...what -"

"My tribe named me their chieftain. Others say I am a tempest, and a few have called me the Daybreaker," the smooth voice replied with a hint of controlled fury. Jaune looked up into the eyes of another raider, though she wasn't just any other Kerutah woman; slightly taller than the rest but equally strong and beautiful, her fiery red hair flowed to the small of her back. Her spaulders and armoured breastplate varied between green, red, blue and gold, with a pure azure sash similarly clasped to her belt as his.

Jaune staggered to his feet as she brandished her ornate golden scimitar. "To you, I am only Urbosa, the woman who will render you justice."

She exploded forward, and Jaune barely got his shield up in time to block her initial assault. Urbosa feinted left, then right to slash at his sword arm, which Jaune bore to slide into her guard and do the same. It slid off her pale yellow Aura, after which she kicked him away before infusing her sword with literal electricity.

"What the actual fu -"

"Hah!" Urbosa cried out with an uppercut, unleashing a line of small lightning bolts that Jaune was forced to run from. Jaune then let loose with Aural swordbeams as she continued charging, bearing the first few before breaking through the rest with a massive lightning thrust that reached far enough to electrocute him.

The paralysis couldn't even let Jaune scream, freezing him in place until he fell on all fours when it stopped. When several Kerutah came over to disarm him, Jaune surprised one by yanking her trident and knocking her out before stealing it to ward off the rest, but it was ultimately a futile effort; for every hit he dealt, Jaune received four more. As a last-ditch effort, he hurled the spear towards Urbosa, who simply perfect-parried it away into a wall.

Jaune sighed, and the last of his strength left him when a raider rammed her sword's pommel to the side of his temple. Two more forced him to kneel - one of whom was apparently the one who he flipped through the wall, and she roughly ripped the Silver Gauntlets away before the two restrained his arms.

Adrenaline fading, all he could do was glare weakly at Urbosa as she approached. "Anyone who trespasses into our sacred homeland condemns themselves. You, however...are peculiar. Different."

"Hrk...gee, thanks for that. I've been called worse. Can I go, now?"

Another tall, muscular Kerutah stepped up from beside Urbosa and delivered a solid punch to his gut. Jaune gasped in pain.

"No need, Buliara. This voe, out of all those we've run across recently, put up a respectable fight. No one had ever been able to best almost forty of our sisters alone. That speaks more of you than what can be seen at first glance." Urbosa narrowed her vibrant jade eyes. "But make no mistake, huntsman. You are not the only one with great power, and if I were to offer advice..."

She leaned into his ear. "Don't do anything stupid."

"Wouldn't...dream of it."

Urbosa stepped back and crossed her arms, no doubt wondering what he'd try to pull off. A raider then fished around in his pockets, found his huntsman ID card and gave it over. "Jaune Arc...hmm. Sisters, disarm him and confiscate his inventory. Bind his arms and blindfold him, but give him some food and water. Search the village once more for any stragglers. We return to the Fortress in ten."

The others began dispersing, and a few returned with a cart - pulled by some sort of walrus or seal, out of all animals - and threw in his sword, shield and cloak. So too went the rest of his inventory, and he fought the urge to lash out upon seeing the Goddess' Harp and Essence of Wisdom in the pile.

Instead, Jaune kept his gaze trained on a stone-faced Urbosa. Not once did they drop eye contact, even as he was bound and blindfolded. If the last thing he'd see was the face of his captor, he'd damn well promise her one hell of a time.

"First the ship and now this…dammit. Not again..."

- AN -

Welcome back to A Descendant of Legends!

And on that note, welcome to the land of sand, sand and - you guessed it - even more sand! Thus starts the first stream in the Vacuo questline, focused entirely on Jaune and a more traditional adventure. No doubt many mysteries at the present from what happened to the others and what happened with Urbosa and her people, all of which will be answered shortly over the next few chapters. That being said, it was refreshing to focus solely on Jaune and setting up some exciting stuff for his group of chapters, along with planning how the other two streams will converge with his. Even as I was writing this, it felt like I was in ancient Hyrule and not its Remnant, lol.

In any case, thanks for sticking around so far and I hope to see you next time!

- Reviews -

Super heavy weapons guy: We'll see! It may be far ahead, but I do have plans for the finale and a potential epilogue as well...spoilers on specifics!

PSYCONIG: Yes - divide and conquer makes things easier with the others too, but that is also the reason I placed Jaune in his own stream alone. We'll see how things shape up with the Princess, though!

Monster King: Thanks, I'm glad you enjoy it, and that's the plan!

Dragon lord Syed 101: Thanks, and I hope so too as well!

Fyr RedNight: No worries! It's good to see you back, but I appreciate it! And yes - while I've made many mistakes visible only through hindsight, can't say I regret this as a whole either. It's still a labour of love that's kept me sane through tough things in the world.

- Stats -

Upload Date: July 10 / 2023

Chapter Word Count: 8602

Approximate Page Length (Times New Roman, size 12, single-spaced): 21.6

- Disclaimer -

The Legend of Zelda and RWBY are the respective properties of Nintendo and Rooster Teeth.