Important notes at the bottom of this chapter.
Otherwise, enjoy.
Whitaker Ash sat in silence as the Bullhead began its descent to the grounds of Beacon Academy. He tapped his foot erratically, excitement bubbled within him. After spending a whole year with his father, learning everything that could be learned in a year as a Huntsman, he was glad to be back at school. And not just any school, one of the four Huntsman Academies on Remnant.
He swept aside his white hair. Before starting at Beacon, he finally came around to cutting his hair. Now, instead of having long, pale hair, it came to rest at the bridge of his nose. This came at the expense of his father poking fun at him for looking like "one of those Mistralian idols."
"We're here," his father said. Esmond Ash stood up as the Bullhead eased into the landing.
Whitaker stood up, slung his backpack over his shoulder, and rolled his luggage between him and his father as the cargo doors of the Bullhead drew open, revealing the expansive grounds of Beacon Academy before Whitaker.
Numerous tall, grey spires extended into the sky, each one connecting to another, like a massive and intricate spider-web. The grey and tower of the Academy was perfectly positioned between the spires, jutting out of the ground high above the other towers. Extending out from the base of the tower and towards the landing platforms was a long and large central pathway. Several streetlamps and poles that carried red and gold flags flanked both sides of the wide path.
This was home for the next four years.
Esmond put a hand on Whitaker's shoulder. "Have fun, kid. I'm proud of you. But—"
"Don't do anything stupid, always train, and remember why I'm here, " Whitaker finished. "I know."
"Sometimes I forget that you're eighteen now."
"I know that too."
"Your sword," Esmond said. "Did you bring it?"
"Both of them, yes." Whitaker glanced at his luggage bag. "Should I use Light—"
"Any advantage, Witt."
"Okay."
Whitaker, ever since his return to Vale, deeply thought about whether or not he would tell his father about Lightbearer. But Esmond's ever-persistent nature brooked no argument. He'd cornered Whitaker and forced him to say everything about Lightbearer that he knew. Even with Harros' insistence on not doing as such— so they compromised. Whitaker told his father about Lightbearer's history, and that it was wielded by Harros. He told his father about the weapon's powers and its efficiency as a Grimm killer.
But nothing more.
It is dangerous enough that your father knows of Lightbearer's powers. Let alone him knowing of the true nature behind the Grimm, and the creatures of the Dark.
I thought you said that I wouldn't be alone in this war.
You are not. But you must choose your companions, Whitaker. And now is not the time to make that decision.
Because I'm not ready?
Because those who would stand beside you are not ready. You have four years to prepare. Not only yourself, but those around you. A skilled warrior you may be, but you are also still a teenager. Live a little.
Can't exactly see how you telling me that we're at war is helping with that. Do you mind being a little more comforting?
If you wanted comfort, you wouldn't have chosen to become a Huntsman. Enjoy your youth, Whitaker. I certainly wish that I did.
You didn't?
We spent every day as if it were our last. If we weren't fighting off Grimm, we were fighting off hunger. And if we weren't doing either of those, we were fighting with each other.
That sounds… painful. I'm sorry.
Do not be. My childhood was tougher than Boarbatusk armor— but it forged me into a warrior. However… Nostalgia and longing flooded Whitaker's senses. As did regret. Part of me wishes that it was not so.
Why?
We are Huntsmen, Whitaker. Our entire lives are spent chasing danger. Battle. War. Conflict. If a Huntsman does not die at home, where else does he die?
On the field.
There are those who say that dying while on a mission is noble, selfless, and a sign of a true Huntsman.
And what do you think?
Those people are fools. I would have liked to die surrounded by the ones that I loved and cherished. Bitterness. Anger. But Destiny is cruel. It is cold. It is numbing. Freezing. Hypothermia. Shivering. Gone.
I'm sorry. Whitaker genuinely meant it. Harros gave his entire life for his people. Every second of it. The history, even though it was lost, always described him as a hero. Someone larger-than-life, someone who was more than human, someone destined for greatness. Someone who could single-handedly turn the tide of battle. Someone that the Grimm feared. Someone that united Solitas.
But Harros was just an ordinary man. Skilled. Exceptional. Driven. But no more human than the people that surrounded him. The people that he fought for. The people that he loved.
This is my advice to you, Whitaker. Do not spend every day as I did— training, fighting, and training again. Live. Learn to fall in love with living. Because it is the reason why we fight.
I understand.
Good.
Coming down the central path towards their Bullhead was a blonde woman in a white blouse paired with a black skirt and brown buttons.
"If it isn't Esmond Ash," she said with a small smile on her face.
"Don't worry, Glynda. Not here to cause trouble. Just here to drop my son off," Esmond explained, heading out of the Bullhead and onto the platform.
The woman approached them and sized up Whitaker. She rapidly glanced between both Whitaker and Esmond, her brows furrowing ever so slightly. "Are you sure that he's yours? He looks more like a Schnee than anything."
"His mother is a Schnee. But yes, he's mine."
As always, the conversation always steered to his mother whenever someone mentioned Whitaker's appearance.
Glynda mumbled something, then she extended her hand. "Glynda Goodwitch, Huntress, and professor of Beacon Academy."
Whitaker shook her hand, almost taken aback by the firmness of her grip. "Whitaker Ash. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Goodwitch."
"My pleasure. And it's just miss, or professor."
"Ah, so the lioness remains untamed," commented Esmond.
"And she will continue to be untamed until someone worthy catches her attention." Glynda sighed. "Come along, Whitaker. We shall speak to the Headmaster about the peculiarities of your situation."
Whitaker nodded and began to follow her towards Beacon.
Glynda looked back to the Bullhead. "Feel free to come along, Esmond."
The man shook his head. "I think Whitaker will be fine."
"See ya, Dad."
Esmond grinned. "Later, kid." He turned around and made his way to the cockpit. And not a moment later, the cargo doors lifted back up, and the Bullhead ascended into the sky with the roar of its engines.
"Well, he's certainly supportive," commented Glynda.
Whitaker shrugged. "He is when he needs to be, he isn't when he doesn't need to be."
Gylnda hummed. "I see. Well then. Let's get on it with, shall we?"
As Whitaker followed her towards the academy, he couldn't help but shake with excitement. His life as a Huntsman was about to truly begin.
[;]
As the elevator to the Headmaster's office quickly rose, Whitaker idly tapped his index finger against the back of his other hand.
"Nervous?" asked Glynda.
"Excited," Whitaker corrected.
Be careful around Ozma.
Ozma?
Ozpin, as he goes by now apparently. He is calculating, cunning, and more than willing to commit a few evils for the greater good. Harros' tone was concerning. I never liked his type.
You… knew him?
Yes. In my time, he was the Headmaster of Atlas Academy.
That doesn't make sense, you were alive hundreds of years ago. Ozpin couldn't have lived that long. That's impossible.
On Remnant, the impossible becomes possible quite frequently.
The elevator dinged and its doors slid open. The Headmaster's office overlooked the entire academy. On the opposite side of the elevator rested a large, brown table, and behind the table sat a grey-haired man with a cup of coffee in his hand. Strangely enough, he looked almost exactly like Whitaker expected him to, if only a little younger in his complexion.
The Headmaster sipped at his drink as Glynda and Whitaker approached the table.
"Ozpin," began the blonde Huntress, "this is Whitaker Ash— I'm sure you've read his file already. Whitaker Ash, this is Ozpin, the current Headmaster of Beacon Academy."
Ozpin stood up and circled around the table to shake Whitaker's hand. "A pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Ash."
Whitaker smiled. "The pleasure is mine, Headmaster."
"Let's get down to business, shall we?" Ozpin smiled at him.
Whitaker nodded and sat in the chair placed before the table.
"Glynda, you may return to the lobby. Mr. Ash here will send for you once we are finished."
She looked uncertain. "Are you sure, Ozpin?"
"I'm fairly certain that Mr. Ash here won't do anything rash." Ozpin motioned to the elevator doors as they seemed to open up with his mere glance.
As Glynda Goodwitch left Ozpin and Whitaker to themselves, the two sat in momentary silence.
"So," began Ozpin as he returned to his seat opposite Whitaker. He turned on the computer and began to type away for a few moments. "I have your file open here. It says that you spent a year out in the field with your father as his apprentice?"
Whitaker nodded. "Something like that."
"What have you learned during that year?"
"A lot more than all three years at Pharos taught me," Whitaker revealed. "As far as practical experience goes, at least." There were some things that being a Huntsman couldn't teach you, but the Headmaster probably knew that better than anyone else in Vale.
"More than you think you would have learned here at Beacon?"
Whitaker shrugged. "I haven't had a class here yet, so I wouldn't know. But most likely."
"Truly?"
"My father's a strong believer in experience being the best teacher, and I guess he rubbed off on me."
"That would make sense. Esmond was always the charismatic one," Ozpin leaned back in his chair. "I suppose then it's important to ask the quintessential question: why do you want to become a Huntsman?"
Whitaker rolled the question around in his head, like a cat eager to play but not yet ready to pounce. He'd pondered it before, numerous times before actually. Usually the answer came in its most basic and textbook form, but Whitaker guessed that wasn't what Ozpin wanted.
"After spending a year out there, being a Huntsman, I've seen things most people my age would never see, and I've done worse too." Whitaker thought back to the White Fang safehouse in Verdant. His first mission. His first kill. The initial warmth of the deer faunus' blood spreading through and into his shirt. The ruins of Atlas. The memories of Lightbringer. Whitaker fought back a shiver as he steeled himself. "No one should have to go through that."
"So you would rather it be you instead of anyone else."
Whitaker shook his head. Self-sacrifice wasn't his style. "I'd rather be the one to put a stop to all of it. Grief, sadness, and negativity are all part of life; it's impossible to avoid those feelings. But the Grimm— they are completely unnatural and should never have existed in the first place. Whatever being created the Grimm, I'd gladly be the one to slit its throat." Whitaker paused, realizing how passionate his tone had become. "That's how I see it, at least."
"So you would describe yourself as a man of action," Ozpin proposed.
"You could say that."
"Tell me, Mr. Ash," Ozpin began. "Do you believe in Destiny?"
Whitaker froze in his chair. He slowly nodded. "I… I suppose I do."
"Do you believe it to be your Destiny to be a Huntsman?"
"Yes, I do."
The Headmaster waited for him to continue.
"I worked hard to get where I am today. I suffered for it, I bled for it," Whtiaker explained. His thoughts drifted to Harros Vesta. "I traveled across Remnant with my father as his apprentice," Whitaker continued. "I am talented, skilled, and driven. I know my worth."
Ozpin carried a look of intense thought as he leaned backward and steepled his fingers. "Well. Thank you for your time today, Mr. Ash. You are free to leave. Please tell Miss Goodwitch to come up here once you are in the lobby."
Whitaker stood up. "Of course, Headmaster." He made his way to the elevator and pressed the button to call for it.
"Oh, and Mr. Ash?" called Ozpin just as the elevator opened. He smiled. "Welcome to Beacon Academy."
[;]
Despite his wishes, Whitaker knew that he was never going to be placed on a second-year team. Those teams had a full year to build the relationships they had now, and to introduce a new dynamic into a team so set in their ways would be unwise. Still, it was saddening to know that he would never be on the same team as Coco. Regardless, he was still attending Beacon. That meant that he and Coco could finally get back to sparring each other.
Whitaker idly wondered how strong she'd gotten while at Beacon. But, and Whitaker knew how cocky it was to believe such a thing, he was quite certain that she still couldn't beat him in a spar, much less a full on fight.
Nevertheless, it turned out he was absolutely correct in regards to where he would be placed. Miss Goodwitch informed him that he would be joining the incoming first-years in initiation. But if he wished, he could take second-year classes instead of first-year classes. The Headmistress recommended doing such a thing, citing that his year apprenticing would have gone "utterly useless," should he choose not to skip classes.
Whitaker politely declined. He didn't think it was useless. And first-year classes existed for a reason, if there was a vital lesson to be learned in them, then Whitaker wouldn't pass it up.
Initiation was in two days, and Whitaker knew that Coco got back from her summer trip to Atlas a few nights ago. He hadn't seen her in over a year. Well, seen her in-person, that is. He'd called her as frequently as he could during the year he spent as a Huntsman— which wasn't very frequent, unfortunately.
Sitting up from his bed and reaching for his Scroll beside him, Whitaker dialed Coco. A few moments later, the black screen lit up, showing a lounging, brown-haired, amber-eyed girl. She was draped over her bed, and her hair was up in a loose ponytail.
"Hey, Coco." Whitaker smiled and laid back down on his bed.
"Hi, Witt."
He hadn't heard her voice in awhile. He missed it.
"How was your trip?" He asked. Better to play it safe with an easy question.
Coco lit up. "Good! It was cool to see how different Vale and Atlas are. There's a lot less faunus up there, and a lot more robots." She chuckled lightly. "What about you? Anything happen recently that you haven't told me about?"
"Well," Whitaker stood up from his bed. "I can think of one thing." He flipped the camera around to show her the room.
Coco leapt from her bed, her expression the epitome of joy. "Beacon? Did they let you skip the first year? Do you know what team you're going to join?!"
"Yes, no, and no," answered Whitaker. "They asked me if I wanted to skip the first year classes, but I decided to just take it anyway. I'd rather experience it in its entirety, you know?"
Coco nodded. "Definitely." She momentarily deflated. "It's sad that you couldn't join my team, though."
"I don't think me joining would have made a good addition. You guys have been working together as a team for a year now. There's a lot of good synergy there that I don't want to mess with."
"That's fair. So, your initiation is tomorrow, right?"
"Two days from now, but all of the new students are moving in tomorrow."
"Are you excited?"
Whitaker shrugged. Perhaps he would be once they arrived. He could scope out the competition and the possible allies. He'd heard rumors that Pyrrha Nikos, the Invincible Girl, would be attending Beacon and not Haven. Yang would certainly be attending, Whitaker had no doubts about that, and so would Ruby once she was old enough.
His thoughts drifted to one Weiss Schnee. Poor girl. Whitaker would hardly find it surprising if Weiss was being carried around in chains to and from classes. Jacques Schnee was that controlling.
Every time I hear more about that man, I grow to hate him.
He's not the greatest of people. But he's family.
Is that your excuse?
Jacques is still human.
Some of the worst monsters I knew were human.
My Uncle isn't a monster. Just a man living in an unfortunate situation, playing with the cards he's been dealt.
Returning to the conversation at hand, perhaps he could form a team with Nikos and Yang.
"Remnant to Witt," chanted Coco. "Remnant to—"
"I'm here," he replied once she'd managed to hold him back from his thoughts.
"Lien for your thoughts?"
"Just thinking about who would best fit my team."
Coco rolled her eyes. "Of course you are. Haven't you ever wanted to just let Destiny decide these things for you?"
Whitaker resisted a wince. "How boring."
She blew a raspberry. Then, her complexion shifted to something between seriousness and frustration. "Are you worried?" She asked out of the blue.
"About what?"
"About how you're gonna spend your time here? I mean, I figure that you already have an idea, but I'm just checking in on you."
Whtiaker shrugged. "Not worried, more excited, I guess. It's about time I got to Beacon, and I actually feel ready for it now."
"You didn't feel ready before?" Coco asked, the disbelief evident in her voice.
"Not necessarily. It's more like I wanted to be more prepared for it."
"I see." Coco coughed. "I guess I'll see you in two days."
"Sounds good."
"Alright, alright. I'm gonna get some exercise. I'll see you soon."
The screen faded to black as Whitaker ended the call.
He needed a distraction.
Luckily for him, Beacon's gym was open all day and night.
Whitaker sighed as he opened the door to the gym.
"Ah!" There was a girlish yelp on the opposite side of the gym. A tall girl with bright red hair, tan skin, and green eyes wearing a sports bra and spandex shorts stared back at him. She stood on the mats, a heavy punching bag hung from the ceiling and dangled behind her.
Of course. Just my luck. He sighed and did his best to steer his gaze off of the girl's chest and her incredibly long legs.
"Sorry for surprising you. I didn't know that other students would be here already." He strolled over to her. The gym was fairly spacious, so it would definitely be awkward to hold a conversation from across the room. "Pyrrha Nikos, I assume?"
The girl nodded, the ponytail of fiery hair bobbed up and down.
"A pleasure to meet you," said Whitaker, extending his hand towards her. "I'm Whitaker Ash."
At the mention of his last name, she visibly loosened up. Whatever tension she had was now gone.
"Ah. I thought you were—"
"A Schnee?" finished Whitaker.
Pyrrha glanced away, guilt written all over her face.
"My mother is— was a Schnee. She's an Ash now. And so am I."
"I see."
Whitaker smiled. "I'll leave you to it. I'll be in here for a bit too." Considering she was on the mats and a punching bag hung from behind her, she would be here for a while too. And judging from the lack of sweat on her body, she got here only minutes before he did. Wait. He internally grinned. "You know, if you want someone to train with, I can help?"
She looked incredibly surprised, if a little impressed at the offer. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah, why not? It'll be a good way to measure my strength against the 'one-and-only' Invincible Girl."
Pyrrha chuckled, though it was stiffer than Whitaker expected. "I don't see why I shouldn't accept your challenge."
"Hand-to-hand?"
"Whatever you want. It's the challenger's honor."
"Okay." Without warning, Whitaker repositioned himself and threw a punch straight at Pyrrha. The Invincible Girl, true to her name, easily avoided the strike and glared daggers at Whitaker.
He shrugged nonchalantly.
And not a moment later, the two dove into combat. They traded blow for blow, but both were unable to land a hit on the other. Whitaker understood now why no one wanted to face Pyrrha Nikos, while he'd only watched her fights, to be in the ring with her was to invite an efficient, instant, and painful defeat. She was the perfect blend of offensive and defensive, turning his glancing blows into her opportunistic strikes, and almost rendering his defense ineffective. Almost.
If Pyrrha was lightning, striking quickly, strategically, and with brutal efficiency, then Whitaker was air. He flowed smoothly, using every part of his body to avoid attacks, then using that momentum to power his next attack. His feet in particular were nearly perfect in their movement. Pyrrha fought, Whitaker danced.
Despite Pyrrha's attempts to adapt, to manipulate the tempo of the fight, mixing fast and straight jobs with slow, powerful haymakers, her breathing grew labored as the fight continued. Whitaker, with almost magical movement, easily avoided nearly every attack that Pyrrha threw at him. While she did manage to land a few hits, they weren't powerful enough to do any real damage.
Once Whitaker knew how tired she was, he began his assault. He tore apart her defense with each attack, but Pyrrha pushed onward. As Whitaker grew more aggressive, so did she. Both knew that Whitaker's Aura wasn't nearly as large as Pyrrha's. Once Whitaker began to attack, gaps in his defense showed. And Pyrrha fully capitalized on those gaps.
As Whitaker hopped back and lifted his leg to kick, Pyrrha moved. She sped towards him, easily entering his guard. The Invincible Girl cocked her elbow and slammed it into Whitaker's stomach, sending him flying off the mats and onto the ground.
He groaned.
Pyrrha rushed over and kneeled next to him. "I'm sorry! I wasn't—"
"No, no, no. It's fine." Whitaker sat up and rubbed his stomach. While his Aura managed to block most of the damage, it still hurt like a bitch. The girl could fight. Not that Whitaker was surprised. He was more angry at the fact that he let her get into his guard.
"Thank you for the fight." Pyrrha bobbed her head. "You evade very well."
Whitaker shrugged. He hadn't even used his ace in the hole. "Thanks. I didn't fight you with my Semblance though."
Pyrrha shrugged. "And I didn't use mine either."
Well. There goes the lead that I had. "I see."
"What is your Semblance, if I may ask?"
"Reflex," Whitaker bragged. He was proud of his Semblance, and the name he'd given it. "I can basically dodge anything."
The redhead looked impressed. "Anything?"
"Well, almost anything." Whitaker held up two fingers. "If there's more than two attackers, then I start having some trouble. But one-on-one, I can safely say there isn't anyone that can beat me."
"If you use your Semblance," corrected Pyrrha, smiling slightly.
"If I use my Semblance."
"I'd like to put that theory to test some day, Whitaker." She stood up and tossed her ponytail over her shoulder, then she offered him her hand. "One more round?"
Whitaker grinned. "Thought you'd never ask."
[;]
On the day before initiation, the hall itself was not as populated as Whitaker thought it would be. It was only slightly crowded, with lots of room for people to move around and socialize with each other. In hindsight, it made sense. Being a Huntsman was something that not many people would want to pursue, especially considering all of its dangers.
Whitaker was no stranger to loudness. During his time in Patch with his father, subbing in for Qrow while the man was on a mission, Yang Xiao-Long and Ruby Rose proved to be quite the boisterous duo. And after living with them for four months, he could tell their voices apart from others from a mile away.
Ruby…
You seem rather fond of her. I see her in your dreams often.
She's a good friend. Reliable. And she—
Has silver eyes.
Yes. That.
"Yikes. Meltdown already?" Yang Xiao-Long said to Ruby. They stood around the center of the hall.
"Yeah," Ruby spat, her eyes narrowing at Yang. "I was so lonely, I only talked to this blonde guy who didn't even know how his weapon worked! It was boring, Yang! I was bored!" The diminutive girl stomped her foot.
Yang shrugged. "At least you didn't explode or anything."
"Yeah! Thank goodness for that!" Ruby shouted.
Whitaker figured that was a good time to reveal himself. "You two sure are loud," he commented, smiling at both of them.
The sisters grinned.
"Whitaker!"
"Witt!" Ruby rushed towards him and hugged him tightly, her legs wrapping around his waist. "It's so good to see you! And, wow, I like what you did with your hair, it looks really good on you." During her hug, she pressed her cheek against his and whispered, "Did you have a dream about me while on your test?"
Whitaker froze. But he still managed a nod.
"We need to talk later."
"Agreed," he murmured back.
"You two sure are hugging for a long time," Yang brusquely commented, bringing both teens out of their moment. "Something you're not telling me?"
Whitaker shrugged. "You want one too?"
Yang chuckled and opened her arms.
The two hugged for a bit before Whitaker pulled away.
"Ruby," he began, "what the hell are you doing at Beacon?"
"Oh boy." Yang groaned.
Ruby elbowed her older sister. "It's a cool story, okay?" Ruby's silver eyes gleamed with excitement. "Okay, so I was doing some Dust shopping in Vale at this really nice old guy's store, it was the only one open at the time. Oh! And it was pretty late too, so yeah. Anyways, I was listening to my music, and then this guy in a black suit and a red tie tapped my shoulder. I didn't notice at first, but once I did, I realized he was a bad guy. So I kicked him really, really hard and sent him flying through the window. I chased after him, but—"
"Ruby," Yang interjected, "get to the point, please."
The younger girl frowned but continued nonetheless. "So basically, I kicked this orange-haired dude's butt, he ran away and escaped into a Bullhead, this lady with crazy fire powers was firing at me. Then, I was saved by a blonde Huntress, I think her name was Goodlady, or something like that. And theenn, Goodlady had me come with her to give a statement, but it turns out it was for a meeting with the Headmaster of Beacon! He gave me some crazy good cookies, then, he mentioned something about my eyes." Ruby took a deep breath. "Then, he asked if I wanted to come to Beacon, so that's why I'm here!" She gave Witt a thumb's up and a beaming grin.
"I… see." Well. It made sense. Ruby probably did something that most Huntresses her age could never muster up the courage to do, nor evenly match up with most criminals.
"What about you, Witt?" asked Yang. "I thought you were going to be a second-year student instead."
Whitaker shook his head. "The Headmaster said I won't be joining a second-year team, but I could take second-year classes if I wanted. I decided to just do the first year as is."
Yang nodded. Then, her eyes flicked over to the stage. "I think he's starting."
All eyes turned their attention to Ozpin as he tapped the mic. Then, he began his speech. Whitaker barely listened. It had something to do with sacrifice, duty, and the importance of Huntsman and Huntresses. The speech was rousing, to be sure, but it was filled with superfluous stuff that Whitaker had heard hundreds of times before in both movies and life.
"Now, if all of you would please welcome Miss Goodwitch, who will be providing you with information regarding your initiation tomorrow."
"Oh. Goodwitch. Not Goodlady." Ruby quickly muttered an apology.
There was a rumble of half-hearted applause as the blonde professor stepped up to the mic.
"The initiation will be tomorrow at 10 A.M. sharp at the cliffs of the Emerald Forest. Bring fully equipped and ready for combat. Your goal for this initiation will be to acquire these chess pieces." The three screens above them lit up with three different chess pieces: the White Knights, the White Rooks, and the Black Bishops. These pieces will decide your teams for the next four years here at Beacon." There was a resounding sound of awe or discontent from the students. "All students who fail to claim a piece will have failed the initiation. Oh, and also have a landing strategy prepared. That will be all. You have the rest of the day to yourselves. Good luck, students!"
Both Glynda and Ozpin exited the stage, letting conversation blossom once again.
Whitaker, Ruby, and Yang looked at each other, confused.
"The cliffs?" Yang asked.
Whitaker nodded. He knew where those were.
Ruby looked up at him. "Landing strategy?"
"Okay, that one I have no idea about." Whitaker guessed they were going to launch them into the Emerald Forest. Cruel. Very, very cruel, Miss Goodwitch. "So, thoughts on the teams?"
Ruby spoke up first. "You, me, Yang, and…"
"And…?"
"And…" Ruby groaned. "Who's going to be our fourth?!"
Unfortunately, no one answered her question.
"Guess we'll find out tomorrow," Whitaker decided.
"That we shall."
"So," Ruby began, "what do you guys want to do today?"
Whitaker shrugged. "Not sure. I might head back to my room."
"Your room?" Yang asked. "Didn't know we could get our rooms already."
"I got here three days ago to sort out the situation of my transfer with the Headmaster. I figured that I would be moving into a team dorm soon, so I didn't really empty out my luggage."
Ruby hummed. "Can I come look at your room?"
"Ooh! Can I come too?" Yang asked.
Whitaker rubbed the back of his head. "Sure, I don't see why not. It's not anything exciting though. It's just a room."
"Yeah, but it's a room at Beacon!"
Whitaker looked at Yang for help.
"That's kind of the reason I want to come," explained Yang.
Whitaker sighed, then nodded. "Okay."
"Yay!" Ruby jumped up in the air. "Friends forever!"
"Alright, don't get that excited, Ruby." Whitaker said, leading them out of the hall and to the dorms.
"Fine."
[;]
After being unable to sleep at all last night, Whitaker's alarm went off. It was time to get ready for initiation. Whitaker pulled Lightbearer from its sheath.
He was fairly certain that Beacon didn't allow its students to keep their weapons in their rooms, but he'd "forgotten" to drop it off at his locker. The handle shifted and moved like liquid, the white metal reshaping itself repeatedly.
The white-haired boy never managed to control the handle to stop its shifting. Whitaker lifted the blade from the table. Lightbearer solidified into a broadsword, the handle melding perfectly with Whitaker's hand. Warmth spread through his hands, and, a moment later, a spark of electricity arced through his veins.
Memories flooded his mind.
A field of bodies.
Standing over someone.
Protest.
No.
Please.
Stop.
Raising a white sword above his head.
Stabbing down.
Death.
Scream.
Silence.
Darkness.
He flinched, nearly dropping the sword. In a rush, he sheathed the sword. Sweat beaded Whitaker's forehead. It took effort to try and breathe.
What the hell was that?
A memory.
A… A memory? Of your life?
No. The wielder previous to Corinth.
That… that looked like murder.
Harros was silent for a time. That wielder was not a man of virtue. He acted on instinct. Brutal, infernal instinct.
Do you know why it… it showed me that?
It is difficult to explain.
Then explain it after Initiation.
The teen steeled his nerves. Whitaker opened his closet and began to remove his pajamas. Slipping on his underwear and his black pants over his legs, Whitaker did his best to distract himself from the vision. Putting on his regular fighting attire, he inspected himself in the mirror once he was done.
His hair was still unfixed. He reached up and gathered his hair into one long, pale ponytail and tied it off. It was too much work to put it up in a bun today.
Whitaker left his room, desperately trying not to think of what Lightbearer just showed him.
[;]
As Whitaker finished hiking up the cliffs, he saw Ruby and Yang talking to a girl with midnight hair tied together by a black bow. Beside them, Pyrrha Nikos watched the Emerald Forest with the eyes of a hawk. And at the edge of the cliff, Headmaster Ozpin and Professor Goodwitch stood, Scrolls in hand. He saw them looking at other cliffs that saddled this side of the forest, then making hand motions towards people. The other professors most likely.
Whitaker walked up to them. "Hello, Miss Goodwitch and Headmaster Ozpin."
Glynda nodded at Whitaker before looking back down at her Scroll and making some adjustments.
"Good morning, Mr. Ash," said Ozpin. "If you don't mind, please stand on that platform." He pointed to the space between Pyrrha and a blonde kid she was talking to.
"Of course." Whitaker walked over and took his place. Pyrrha saw him approach and she smiled pleasantly at him. He hadn't seen her in her combat uniform before, and Whitaker found it hard to look at her fairly exposed legs. He smiled back at her. "Hi, Pyrrha."
"I didn't see you yesterday. Were you in the halls last night?"
Whitaker shook his head. "I was in my room."
Pyrrha frowned. "They sent Professor Oobleck to collect me and my things."
"Ah, they kicked you out?"
She rubbed the back of her neck and smiled sheepishly. "Something like that." Then, she looked past me and her eyes widened. "Oh! I didn't even introduce you."
A finger tapped Whitaker's shoulder. "Hi."
It was the blonde kid. "Hello."
"Whitaker, this is Jaune," Pyrrha said, motioning to the blonde. "Jaune, this is Whitaker."
"Jaune. Jaune Arc. Short, sweet, and rolls right off the tongue." He grinned at Whitaker.
Whitaker raised a brow. "I see. Whitaker Ash. A pleasure to meet you."
Jaune smiled.
"Jaune was just telling me about his affection for Pumpkin Pete," Pyrrha explained a wide smile on her face. At first, Whitaker couldn't tell if her enjoyment was genuine, but he soon realized that it was.
"Didn't you do a promo for—"
"I don't know what you're talking about," interrupted Pyrrha, the same wide smile on her face. Only this time, it was accompanied by a death threat in her eyes.
Oh, I see. Whitaker thought to himself. He was impressed. To capture the attention of the Invincible Girl in less than a day was no small feat. He let the two talk over him as he waited for the trial to start.
"Students! Take your places on the platform, please." Miss Goodwitch waved her riding crop to the small silver platforms on the ground. Any students who were arriving late or had moved from their original platforms followed her directions.
When the students filed in, Ozpin spoke up. "Also, the first person you make eye contact with will be your partner for the next four years."
Whitaker sighed. Of course.
"Are there any questions?"
Jaune raised his hand. "Yeah, what did you mean by landing strategy—"
Whitaker didn't hear him as the platform catapulted him towards the Emerald Forest. Whitaker placed a hand on the ever-shifting handle of Lightbearer. A surging strength gathered within him, and in a flash of movement, he unsheathed the blade.
Got anything for me?
This.
Wind gathered at his feet and slowed his descent until he fell at the speed of a feather.
He scanned the forest as other students were also launched. He needed to find a rowdy blonde or a nervous girl in all red. As much as Whitaker would love to have been paired up with Pyrrha or… just Pyrrha, he'd rather have someone he knew.
There was a series of gunshots from behind him, and a blur of red sped into the forest.
"Gotcha." Whitaker pointed to the tip of Lightbearer to where Ruby landed and the wind at his feet gathered once again and he shot off towards her. Once his feet touched the soft, crumbling dirt of the Emerald Forest, Whitaker called out. "Ruby!"
"Witt?" She called back, her voice not too far from him.
"Stay still! I'm gonna go to you!" Whitaker sheathed Lightbearer. As the weapon slid back into its sheath, the blade returned to its mercurial state. He expected nothing less from Ruby Rose. In hindsight, his initial surprise at Ruby being at Beacon could have been curbed knowing her skill.
He hated to compare the Xiao-Long and Rose sisters, but Ruby would definitely grow up to be better than her older sister. Of course, that wasn't to diminish Yang in any way— the blonde brawler would always be a brutal fighter, especially with her Semblance. But Ruby's ability to manipulate and maneuver around a battlefield surpassed Yang's by no small measure.
Whitaker pushed aside some brush, and saw Ruby leaning against a tree. He smiled. "Hey, Ruby."
The small girl grinned and rushed over to him. "Witt! So, I guess we're partners?"
He nodded. "Yup."
"Awesome! Partners forever!" She jumped up and raised her hand for a high-five which Whitaker had to respond to.
"Let's go get those relics?"
"Yeah!"
[;]
"Whitaker," Ruby Rose began trepidatiously, "are you sure we're not lost?"
"I…" Whitaker glanced around. They'd been wandering the same area for the last half-hour, of course they were lost. Tracking and navigation was never his strong suit, which was why his father always did it whenever they were out on missions. He mentally growled. To fail Beacon's initiation strictly because he couldn't find his way out of a forest. How disappointing. "Yeah. We're lost."
Ruby frowned. "Maybe we should find some high ground?"
Whitaker nodded. That was as good a start as any. Only problem was that they didn't know what to look for once they found high ground. "You lead the way."
As the red and white duo trekked through the forest, their boots stamped the dirt beneath them. The air, luckily, wasn't hot or cold so neither of them sweated too intensely.
"Hey, Witt," said Ruby, her gaze not moving from ahead of them as they began to hike up a hill. "I have a question."
"Fire away." Whitaker kept an eye on their surroundings. The Emerald Forest was full of Grimm, which was why most civilians avoided it… and why the Headmaster of Beacon decided to launch seventeen year old kids into it.
"Why does your weapon do that?" Ruby said, momentarily looking back at Whitaker and pointing to the shifting handle of Lightbearer.
"I have no idea," Whitaker lied. Sorry, Ruby. It's for the best.
"The one you used to spar me and Yang— Yang and me— it didn't do that." Ruby returned her gaze to the path ahead of them.
"That was my other weapon, the one I made at Pharos."
"So you didn't make the one you're using now?"
"Yeah. It sort of… appeared by me." Yeah, Whitaker, that sounded like a totally sane story.
"Appeared?"
He shrugged even though Ruby couldn't see him. "I found it during my test."
"Did… did it introduce itself at least?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing," Ruby said, far too quickly.
"It's a sword, Ruby. It doesn't talk to me," Whitaker said, a slight chuckle escaping him.
"I see. Well—" Ruby stopped dead in her tracks.
Whitaker rushed over to her. "What's— Oh."
Not thirty feet from her, huddled around a body that laid against a tree were four Beowolves. Their fangs gnashed and sundered the corpse of a brown-haired boy that looked far too young to have legitimately passed the screening for initiation.
He snuck into Beacon. And he paid with his life.
"Ruby, we need to—" Whitaker looked at his partner.
The girl was frozen still. Her entire body convulsed as though only she herself were experiencing an earthquake. Then she screamed; a harrowing, throat-cracking screech echoed throughout the Emerald Forest.
"Ruby, your negativity is going to—"
From behind him, Whitaker heard the deep, rolling growl of a pack of Beowolves.
Whitaker grabbed Ruby by the waist, pulling her to his chest, and covering his hand over her mouth to prevent her from screaming anymore. Darting behind a nearby tree, his back saddled up against the bark, Whitaker whispered into Ruby's ear. "It's gonna be okay. Stay here. Don't move, I'll deal with the Grimm. Okay?"
The snarls of alerted Beowolves came closer to them. They'd soon see Whitaker and Ruby against the tree, and Whitaker would rather have the element of surprise on his side.
Ruby nodded. The moment Whitaker let go of her, she slumped against the dirt, staring at her pale hands.
Whitaker unsheathed Lightbearer, the steel spilling from the glass bead and solidifying into a broadsword. As he strolled out from behind the tree, the four Beowolves turned their attention to him. Their beady red eyes glowed with molten fury, but as their gaze shifted to his weapon, their eyes lost their anger became horror. They whimpered, and their bodies cowered in fear. The light of Lightbearer grew brighter as Whitaker neared them, his gaze unwavering. He was surprised at the revelation, but he didn't show it.
He had a boy to avenge.
Whitaker growled and lunged forward, thrusting Lightbearer into the nearest Beowolf. The Grimm disintegrated, but instead of its remains scattering into the wind, Lightbearer swallowed the fragments of darkness. One by one, Whitaker eliminated the stunned Beowolves until there were none left. Lightbearer sated itself in the remains of the Grimm.
Whitaker stared at the broadsword. It handled as well as it always did; its sharpness remained the same, as did its balance.
It's been awhile.
It has, hasn't it?
Now wasn't the time to be thinking about his weapon, however. Whitaker sheathed his sword and ran back to Ruby. The girl in red stood with her hands on her knees, taking in a deep breath then exhaling it slowly in an attempt to calm herself down. Her legs shook slightly, and she was shaking her head, repeating something over and over again.
"Ruby," Whitaker began, "are you okay?"
Ruby looked up at him. Tears poured from her eyes and ran down her cheeks. Her eyes themselves were incredibly red. "No," she choked out. "I… Have you seen stuff like that before? Y'know, when you were with your dad—"
"Yes." Whitaker sat beside Ruby. He stared at the grass and moss that gathered underneath the shade of the tree they sat in. Besides the fact that Grimm roamed the Emerald Forest, it was beautiful. Sunlight leaked through the canopy, bathing the entire forest-valley in golden light. The smell of warm earth, grass, and oak filled the cool air.
"Did you ever… kill anyone?"
"Yes." Whitaker stared at black beetle as it cautiously came out of its home inside of the tree. "It was on my third mission. I was in Verdant following up on a lead about the White Fang stealing Dust shipments to Vale from Verdant." The beetle strolled up to Whitaker's shoe and examined it, poking its horns against the black rubber. "I infiltrated a White Fang hideout. Things got too risky and I had to do something to make sure I got out safely."
"What was it like?"
"Killing? Or seeing a body?"
Ruby sat beside Whitaker, her elbow rubbed against his. She'd calmed down a little, judging from the gradually slowing rate of tears that fell. "Both."
"The killing hurt less than seeing the body," Whitaker explained as calmly as he could. "When you're in the moment with adrenaline rushing through you, it's easy to overlook what you've done. But once you see the body, it's an acknowledgement of what you've done. You see the consequences of your actions first hand." The beetle, after realizing that Whitaker's shoe was not food, strolled away into a small bush. Silently, Whitaker hoped it would be safe.
"I see." Ruby bit her lip so hard Whitaker was worried that it would start to bleed.
They sat in silence for some time. Whitaker let Ruby fully digest what she'd seen and been told. They weren't in a rush. Kind of. Time passed slowly. Much more slowly than what Whitaker believed.
"Are you okay to keep going?" Whitaker asked quietly. "We have an initiation to finish."
Ruby's eyes shot wide open. "Initiation! I totally forgot!" She shot to her feet. "C'mon, Witt! We have to keep going!"
"Ruby, you don't have to force yourself if—"
The girl grabbed him by the hand and pulled him up to his feet. She looked up at him and straight into his eyes. "I'm okay." She grinned. "Let's go!"
Whitaker smiled softly.
Ruby Rose, the ever-burning light of Vale.
Somehow, he was surprised that he hadn't told her about his missions while he was in Patch. He wondered if she was at one point curious but could never muster the courage or find the reason to ask him.
"Witt?! What are you waiting for?"
Without another word, he rushed after his silver-eyed friend.
[;]
Whitaker held onto the spectral, black feathers of the Nevermore. The bird barreled to the ground before arcing straight up in an attempt to shrug Whitaker off of its body, but Whitaker held on. He wasn't sure what Ruby's plan was, but he trusted in the girl.
Ruby fired at the Nevermore from the ground, but her attacks did negligible damage to it.
Whitaker, understanding the strength of the Nevermore, unsheathed Lightbearer expecting the Nevermore to shriek in fear. But there was no such reaction. The large Grimm continued to fly, and with Whitaker losing one hand to steady himself, the Nevermore tucked in its wings and cycled its body rapidly, throwing Whitaker off of it.
The white-haired teen struck the forest floor with a loud impact. His Aura, despite taking the brunt of the damage, was cut in half from the force of his landing. He groaned and slowly stood up.
Ruby activated her Semblance and rushed to his side, keeping an eye on the patrolling Nevermore. "Are you okay?" She asked before she stabbed Crescent Rose into the ground and fired a few rounds at the Nevermore.
"Yeah," Whitaker said. "I'm fine. Aura's at fifty percent though."
"Fifty percent?!"
"I don't have a lot of it. My Semblance, remember?"
"Ah, right." Ruby nodded. As a fellow glass cannon, Whitaker figured she would catch on quickly. "We're gonna need more firepower to bring this thing down."
They looked at each other.
"Yang," they said simultaneously.
Without another word, Ruby and Whitaker spun on their heels and ran away from the Nevermore. The Grimm attempted to bombard them with its feathers, but the canopy of the forest shielded them. After a few minutes of non-stop running, Whitaker noticed that the treeline was coming closer.
"There's a clearing up ahead," he said. "Gonna be a little hard to keep cover from the Nevermore in there."
"We might find some backup, though," Ruby countered as she hopped over an exposed tree root.
"Fair enough. Clearing it is."
They rushed into the clearing, the Nevermore hot on their heels. On their right, about five hundred feet away was a circular shrine with twelve stone pedestals at its edge. Placed atop these pedestals were twelve chess pieces.
"There!" Whitaker said, pointing at the shrine.
"I see it!" Ruby glanced behind them.
Out from the forest came two figures. A redhead and a blonde. Pyrrha Nikos and Jaune…. something. Whitaker couldn't remember his name. And from behind them, a Deathstalker cut a swathe through the trees, making a path for itself. Its claws slicing through the wood with ease, and its glowing yellow stinger dangled above its bone covered head.
Pyrrha and Jaune noticed Whitaker and Ruby. They waved, desperately asking for help. Four Hunters-in-training against two high-level Grimm. Not good odds. Not good odds at all, Whitaker thought to himself.
Ruby grabbed the White Knight and stuffed it into a pocket Whitaker didn't know she had. She grabbed Crescent Rose and unleashed its full-size. The scythe blade stabbing into the ground as Ruby fired at the Nevermore.
Whitaker unsheathed Lightbearer as Pyrrha and Jaune approached.
"What's the plan?" Jaune asked through his ragged breathing. He wielded a sword and shield, and judging from his stance, he had no idea what he was doing with either weapon.
Pyrrha Nikos, on the other, held her weapons with the expertise only years of experience could bring. She looked tired, but not as haggard as Jaune. "I'm afraid that we won't be able to take on those two Grimm by ourselves."
As if on cue, Yang and the black-haired girl wandered out of the forest and into the clearing. Even more so, an orange-haired girl and a boy in green clothing rode a dying, black King Taijitu.
"Well," Whitaker said, smirking at Pyrrha, "ask and you shall receive, I suppose." He looked at the Deathstalker and the Nevermore. Strangely enough, both Grimm weren't attacking them. The Nevermore flapped idly in the air, its red eyes glaring directly at Whitaker. The Deathstalker stared at Whitaker as well. "That's… weird."
Yang, the black-haired girl, the orange-haired girl, and the boy in green all approached, equally confused at the status of the Grimm.
"Witt," said Yang, brushing aside her hair from her face. "What's happening with the Grimm?"
"Yeah," the orange-haired girl said. The sound of her voice was unexpectedly boyish. "Why are they acting all weird and stuff?"
Whitaker shrugged. "Why do you guys think I would know?"
"Well," the boy in green began as he tracked the gaze of the Grimm, "they are looking at you."
"Fair. Regardless, I have no idea."
Ruby shook her head. "They're not looking at Witt. They're looking at his sword."
All eyes looked to Lightbearer. The white metal of the sword glowed slightly.
"Okay, okay, okay," Whitaker said. "I guess we have a break." He waved his hand to the new people. "What are your names?"
"NORA!" The orange-haired girl screamed, slinging her hammer over her shoulder. Whitaker wasn't sure how he missed her hammer.
"Lie Ren," the boy in green said with a slight bow.
The black-haired girl with a bow raised her hand. "Blake."
"Great," Whitaker stepped aside. "While you're here, the relics needed to pass initiation are here."
Everyone besides Whitaker and Ruby rushed to the relics. Yang chose the other White Knight while Jaune and Nora chose the White Rooks.
"So," Yang said to Whitaker, "what's the plan?"
"Why am I the one who needs to come up with a plan?" Whitaker asked.
"You're the only one with actual experience being a Huntsman," Ruby supported. "I don't really know why you were asking me for plans earlier either."
"Because you're smart enough to come up with a plan, Ruby."
The small girl flushed.
"Both your terrible attempts at flirting aside," Yang said as she stepped up next to Whitaker. "Ruby's right. You know what you're doing. And the Grimm also react to you— or your sword. You're the de facto leader for now, Witt."
Whitaker surrendered. "Alright, fine." He analyzed everyone's capabilities as best as he could. Jaune and Pyrrha could handle defense, they both had shields. Nora looked like she could deal some serious damage with her hammer. Ren and Blake seemed like the types to have a lot of mobility and utility. And Whitaker already knew of Ruby and Yang's strengths.
The Deathstalker would be no issue. With how much of a force their ground team was, Whitaker was sure that he and Pyrrha could handle it with just the two of them, they were the most skilled out of the group. Despite having never worked together, he was also confident in Pyrrha's capabilities as a fighter.
The Nevermore, however, was a separate issue entirely. They needed a way to ground it.
"Hey, strategist." Ruby tapped his shoulder and pointed behind him. "What if we used that?"
A massive mountain rose out of the ground, with a sheer cliff that faced them. Along the cliff were numerous platforms and ruins that would be perfect for maneuvering around to trap the Nevermore.
"Perfect." Whitaker turned to the group. "Pyrrha, you and I will take the Deathstalker. Jaune, you go with Ruby." The girl waved at the blonde who sheepishly smiled back. "Use your shield, protect her from any feathers the Nevermore might throw at her."
Jaune gave him a thumb's up. "Got it, boss."
"Ruby, did you bring any lightning Dust?"
The girl nodded. "Only one magazine."
"That's all you'll need," he pointed to a section of the ruins that would work as a platform. "If you hit all of your shots."
The silver-eyed warrior's eyes narrowed. "Do you doubt me?"
Whitaker shook his head.
Whitaker approached Ren and Blake. "You two, focus on the Nevermore's wings. Use the platforms against the cliff to move around. Try and trap the thing in front of the cliff, or give Ruby a clear shot with her sniper rifle."
"Of course," Ren said. He flicked his wrist and produced two green handguns that wrapped around his hand.
"Okay." Blake unsheathed her weapon. It looked like a dagger attached to a gun with a long black ribbon that hung from the end of the dagger. He'd read about a weapon like that. A kusarigama. Which had origins in both Mistral and Menagerie.
Whitaker looked to Ruby. "Ruby, stick to that sniper rifle. Blake and Ren will cover for you. And you three will pin that bird down."
Ruby nodded and patted the side of Crescent Rose.
"Yang and Nora. Once it's down," Whitaker began, a grin growing on his face. "Deal some fucking damage."
Both fighters grinned. Yang slammed Ember Celica together, her eyes momentarily flashing red. Nora grinned wildly, latching onto her hammer with both hands.
"Alright. Go!"
The eight Hunters-in-training broke off. Whitaker and Pyrrha sped towards the Deathstalker as Ruby fired at the Nevermore, drawing the massive black bird's attention away from the duo.
"Hate to pull you away from your new boyfriend, Pyrrha," Whitaker commented.
Pyrrha turned a shade of red equal to her hair. "He's not my boyfriend…"
Whitaker shrugged. "I'm not judging."
As they neared the Deathstalker, the light of Lightbearer grew brighter, like it hungered for the essence of the Grimm.
Pyrrha leapt forward, holding her shield in front of her as the Deathstalker swiped at Whitaker. Whitaker whirled to the side of the Deathstalker and stabbed Lightbearer into its midnight flesh. In a circle around the piercing wound, the black flesh began to fade into nothingness. The Deathstalker howled and reared back its stinger to stab at Whitaker, but the teen had already moved.
Both Pyrrha and Whitaker made short work of the Deathstalker. Pyrrha kept up the defense, distracting the Deathstalker enough for Whitaker to slowly tear through its thick hide with Lightbearer. As the fight continued, Whitaker found it easier and easier to cut through the Grimm's flesh. To have both warriors on the same side of a fight was a boon no one could underestimate.
Even Whitaker was fairly sure that he and Pyrrha were the best fighters in their year— by a longshot.
Whitaker spun around behind the Deathstalker and raised Lightbearer into the air, with two quick slices, the stinger of the Deathstalker slid off. As it began to fade, Lightbearer swallowed every ounce of its essence. What was once a mere glow that emanated from the weapon burned bright and hot, like a small star.
Images assaulted his mind.
A gloved hand thrust forward.
Golden threads grasped. Pulled.
White steel cut through the thread.
Golden threads shattered like glass.
Without a second thought, Whitaker mimicked the motion. His own hand shot forwards. A cloud of grey settled into his vision, and he saw a single golden thread that extended out from the Deathstalker to him. He gripped the thread and yanked it.
The Deathstalker released a pained screech, its infernal eyes flicked to Whitaker.
Flourishing Lightbearer, Whitaker slashed down at the thread and cut it in two.
The sound of a thousand windows cracking and shattering echoed in his ears as the golden thread dissipated.
The Deathstalker stood stock still for a moment.
Then, it began to dissolve. One particle at a time, it vanished from Whitaker's vision, taking its mask with it.
Pyrrha stared at Whitaker, awe and fear written plainly on her face. "What was that?"
"I…" Whitaker himself couldn't believe it. "I'm not sure." He shook his head. "I can figure it out later. Let's go help the rest."
Pyrrha nodded.
He jogged past her and towards the cliff. As he turned his back to the forest, Whitaker couldn't help but feel someone… something watching him.
[;]
The spotlight blared down at them from Beacon's stage. Whitaker looked at a sea of faces, each one wearing different expressions. Jealousy, boredom, excitement, sadness, anger. There were so many people that failed the initiation, and, luckily, only a minority of them didn't survive it. Headmaster Ozpin made sure to remind them of the dangers of their line of work as a result of the statistics being revealed. Death was, while not common, wasn't rare in the field. Everyone handled it differently, and it was their responsibility to their teammates to make sure that everyone on the team was okay.
"Ruby Rose, Whitaker Ash, Blake Belladonna, and Yang Xiao-Long," Ozpin announced. "These four collected the White Knights, and shall henceforth be known as Team RWBY, with its leader being Ruby Rose."
Whitaker grinned at Ruby who was shuffling in place awkwardly. They left the stage, and the next four headed up the steps.
"Jaune Arc, Nora Valkyrie, Pyrrha Nikos, and Lie Ren. They collected the White Rooks, and shall henceforth be known as Team JNPR, with its leader being Jaune Arc."
Pyrrha, Nora, and Ren clapped and smiled at Jaune. The blonde looked like he was between having a panic attack and passing out from joy.
"Poor Jaune," Ruby commented.
"Why?"
"He looks so nervous up there."
Hello pot, would you like to meet kettle? Whitaker thought to himself. "Well, he is new to all of this."
A pair of hands wrapped around him, and a familiar woman's voice whispered into his ears. "Someone isn't new to all of this though."
Whitaker sighed. Of course. "Hi, Coco." He stared at the amber eyes of his best friend with as much boredom as he could muster.
Coco rolled her eyes. "Killjoy." She looked at each one of Whitaker's teammates with an eye of… murderous intent? Whitaker wasn't entirely sure. "On a team full of women, I see."
"I didn't know you were the jealous type," Whitaker commented.
Coco frowned. "I didn't either." Coco approached the three girls. "Coco Adel, second year, Whitaker's girlfriend. Pleasure to meet you." She stuck her hand out.
"You're his girlfriend?!" Ruby yelped. "I thought you two were just friends."
"She's not my girlfriend," Whitaker said. "She's just a very good friend." He cut her a look. "Don't make it so complicated."
The brown-haired girl's eyes flicked over to him. "It's only complicated because you make it complicated. Because I assure you, it can be uncomplicated very quickly."
"Any— anyways!" Yang said, grabbing Coco's hand and shaking it. "I'm Yang. That's Ruby."
"It's good to finally meet you two in person," Coco said with a smile.
Blake raised her hand in an almost exact manner that she had greeted Whitaker for the first time with. "Blake."
Was that practiced or something?
She has done the exact same motion nearly every time. I don't doubt it.
"Well," Coco said, turning to Whitaker, "are you free?"
"Probably?" Whitaker shrugged. "I have no idea."
"Classes don't start until tomorrow," Coco explained. "And you didn't bring a lot of stuff, so moving in won't take that long. I'll see you in training room 5-C in an hour, okay?"
"Sure?"
"Great." Coco winked at Whitaker. As she left, Whitaker could not help but notice the sway of her hips.
"Witt," Yang said, pulling him back into reality, "you're staring."
"Let him stare, Blondie," Coco called. "He does it all the time anyway." Pushing open the door out of the hall, Coco chuckled. "I'll see you later, Witt."
Yang rolled her eyes. "Men."
Whitaker shrugged. "What can I say? She's really pretty."
Ruby muttered something, but Whitaker couldn't quite catch it. He wasn't sure if he even wanted to. He made for the door, ushering his team to follow him. Before he could put a hand on it, his Scroll buzzed in his pocket. It was a message from the Headmaster.
"Mr. Ash. Please make your way to my office. Immediately," Ruby read aloud as Whitaker fished out the Scroll. "Someone's in trouble."
He momentarily glared at the girl."Well, looks like I'll be seeing you guys later."
"Don't miss us too much," Yang said.
"Right."
Leave it to Ozpin to want to speak to you after you unleashed the Lightbearer's power.
Should I be worried?
Only if you think so.
[;]
Whitaker called the elevator, placing his hand around the handle of Lightbearer. The metal warmed to his touch, and seemed to slowly wrap itself around his fingers.
The elevator doors opened and Whitaker stepped inside. The mercurial metal was smooth against his skin, and he paced inside of the elevator. He couldn't help it. Ozpin knew. He knew of Lightbearer.
There was a ding and the doors opened once again, revealing the Headmaster's office. However, instead of the clean table that Whitaker saw when he first came to Beacon, stacks of papers filled the desk. Loose paper filled with black text rested in uneven, unstable piles. The Headmaster of Beacon sat behind his computer, coffee mug in his hand as Whitaker entered.
Ozpin looked up from what he was reading. "Ah, Mr. Ash. Please, have a seat."
"Looks hectic," Whitaker commented.
"It always is. But the death of a fair share of students particularly caused the news to be rather interested in this year."
"Fair share?" Whitaker asked. "I thought it was only a small percentage."
"Over three hundred entered Beacon for the initiation," Ozpin explained. "Team RWBY, Team JNPR, and Team CRDL passed. In addition to you twelve, another one-hundred survived."
"That's…"
"Over sixty-percent of the students that came into Beacon yesterday did not come home to their parents today."
Whitaker held his breath, afraid that it would be his last too. He silently thanked the gods that Ruby only saw one. "What happened to their bodies?"
"They have already been recovered, and will be shortly returned to their families." Ozpin sipped his coffee, silence filling the air.
"Why were there so many?" Whitaker asked. He had to. Ozpin was baiting him to.
"Usually we have one or two, which is understandable. The Emerald Forest is very dangerous, even to experienced Huntsmen." Ozpin returned his mug to the table, the mocha colored liquid jiggling slightly. "It seems that the Grimm this year were particularly deadly."
"Don't you have contingencies for that?"
"It is difficult to determine a student's worthiness when they know that the staff will save them." Ozpin steepled his fingers over his mug. "We did what we could, but I imagine the media will be dragging us through the mud for this."
Whitaker could see the reasoning. But it was still flawed. Two-hundred kids died. "How many died the previous year?"
"An amount I will not disclose today, Mr. Ash."
Whitaker nodded. He didn't want to find out either. Two-hundred dead in a single day was two-hundred too many.
"Despite that, I did not invite you up here to tell you of my shortcomings this year." Ozpin leaned forward and set down his mug. "Your weapon, Mr. Ash. It is a peculiar one, no?"
Whitaker nodded, unsure of how to process what he had just been told.
"Would you mind if I took a look at it?"
Whitaker unsheathed Lightbearer and handed it to Ozpin, pommel facing the Headmaster.
"I have not seen this weapon in a… long time," Ozpin murmured as he grasped the sword. Lightbearer shifted into an exact replica of the cane that Whitaker had seen Ozpin walk around with. He twirled the cane and leaned it against the table. "How did you come across this weapon?"
"It came to me, if anything. I found it during my test."
"It came to you…" Ozpin echoed. "Well, then you're a very lucky individual. This weapon has been lost to history for several eons. And, if our given evidence shows anything, it is that you are worthy of such a powerful artifact."
"Artifact?"
Ozpin nodded. "The weapon you wield, it is known as Lightbearer." He looked down at the newly-formed cane with a small, fond smile. "Lightbearer has had many wielders. All of them gifted, exceptional, and powerful in their own ways."
Whitaker narrowed his eyes at Ozpin. Despite having never shown the Headmaster the weapon, he held Lightbearer with such familiarity and fondness that only came from having used it before.
"Have you wielded Lightbearer before, Headmaster?" Whitaker asked.
Ozpin drew his hands together. "I had a close relationship with its previous wielder," he said. "I have seen the weapon numerous times, and in my long life, I have read quite a lot about it and other artifacts." The Headmaster cleared his throat. "According to legend, the weapon stores the memories of its previous wielders. Have you ever experienced anything like that, Mr. Ash?"
Whitaker's mind flashed back to what he saw before the test. To what he saw when he first found the weapon in that crypt. "Yes, I have."
"And yet here you stand," Ozpin said. The reverie in his voice was poorly hidden.
"What do you mean?"
"Those who cannot withstand the memories stored within Lightbearer cannot wield the blade," Ozpin explained calmly. "And judging from the given evidence today, Lightbearer has chosen its wielder. And it has chosen you, Mr. Ash."
It has.
Whitaker pushed Harros' presence away. "Your… given evidence?"
"The display of power in the Emerald Forest did not go unnoticed. If anything, Mr. Ash, it informed the world that something of immense power has surfaced on Remnant today."
"The world?" Whitaker asked, unsure if Ozpin was exaggerating.
The Headmaster confirmed it with a nod of his head.
"Then you can keep the sword."
Whitaker understood the burden of power, of high status. And it was the last thing he wanted. His capabilities as a Huntsman didn't revolve around Lightbearer, and he was certain that he could serve just as well without the sword. "I'm still training. I'm still in a Huntsman Academy. This is… this power is bigger than me. I don't want this burden on my shoulders."
Whitaker Ash. What are you doing?
Finding my own Destiny.
This is your Destiny.
And I am not ready for it.
In life, there are many things that we must face that we are never ready for, that we can never be ready for. And this is one of them.
The last time I believed that I was ready for something when I wasn't, I almost died.
But you still succeeded, did you not?
I can't rely on miracles to save me.
The Headmaster's voice drew Whitaker back to the present. "Mr. Ash. You do not wish to wield Lightbearer at present, or ever?"
"Right now."
Ozpin held the young man's gaze.
A year passed in a minute.
Then, Ozpin spoke once again. "I seem to recall you telling me about your desire to kill whatever being created the Grimm, to put a stop to it all. Wouldn't this weapon help in achieving such a goal?"
"It will," Whitaker said. "When I'm prepared to take on the burden."
"I understand." Ozpin let the blade rest on his table. "I will hold on to Lightbearer for now. But I must inform you, Mr. Ash, it is said that once Lightbearer has made its mark, its wielder will never be able to lift another blade."
Yeah, I know. Whitaker shrugged. He could learn to wield Lightning again. It might take some time… but it was worth it. "Then I'll face the consequences."
"I will ensure that it is kept safe," Ozpin said. He picked up his coffee mug. "Congratulations on your success, Mr. Ash. If you ever need anything, come see me."
Whitaker stood up. "Thank you, Headmaster."
"Have a good day, Whitaker."
As Whitaker called the elevator, he took one last glance at Lightbearer. The mercurial handle was unmoving, as if life had been drained from the weapon. Then, his mind was assaulted with visions.
A moonlit, midnight sky; a tenebrous sea.
Storm clouds on the horizon.
Flashes of lightning.
A cliffside wracked by crashing waves.
A man held a pale sword, lifting it to the sky.
Ships on the sea.
A tempest of cold death gathered.
Lightning fell.
The ships on the sea burned red and orange.
The memory fell away.
You will return to Lightbearer, Whitaker Ash. And you will realize the folly of your mistake.
Whitaker shook his head, desperately repeating to himself that he hadn't heard a thing.
Long chapter, lots of content. Whitaker meets a majority of the cast, and because Weiss is held up in Atlas Academy, Whitaker will be the "W" in Team RWBY. And Whitaker relinquishes the burden of Lightbearer.
Anyways, onto the important stuff. I want to talk about the update schedule for this story. Because of how long this story is going to be (most likely over 200k words, original projection was around 800k), it's going to take awhile for its completion. And since chapters can be anywhere from 5k to 10k words... the updates will still come weekly.
Eeveeobsesser - Yup! They'll talk about all that stuff fairly soon.
Arsenals42 - I can definitely see the comparisons, especially between Excalibur and Lightbearer. Thanks for catching an interest in the lore! There's still a lot of questions left to be answered though...
Mattysteel - Part 2 will contain Season 1, 2, and 3 :D! And here's your well-deserved chapter after a long wait. I apologize!
Zacatac - Well, I'm continuing it. Thank you and stay tuned!
loligang - I'll agree with you at Whitaker being a Gary Su, at least from the first chapter. He's good at things that most people his age aren't good at, namely being independent, having a goal, achieving perfection and excellence- coincidentally, he also places a lot of weight on his own shoulders to perform well. And if he doesn't meet those expectations, then he breaks down (see Part 1, Chapter 5 - Atlas III). But you've got a point about him talking back to his parents, however, even if we're not allowed to do something, when we're mad enough, we do it anyways. I think his response was justified.
Thank you for supporting my story thus far. Please leave a review if you enjoyed it. They really keep me going!
Next Chapter: 4/3/2021
