Author's Note: Thank you to Couer Al'Aran for inspiring my depiction of the Jaune Arc family, and for being such an amazing entry into the RWBY fandom.
A young boy, blonde and fit scurried in the grass, examining each and between each blade as if searching for something. One of his many older sisters, Sable Arc stood watching over him nearby.
The process was as strange as it was dull and repetitive. It was something her younger brother Jaune had been doing for the past year. It had been novel and interesting the first time he had done it. Now, it was just something she had to watch while babysitting him for her parents.
Correspondingly, Sable's nose was deep in her scroll, reading over a vaguely interesting news article about a movie star. Crickets chirped in their inexorable rhythm. The sun passed overhead, as it always had. Jaune continued to find nothing unusual within the grass.
Of course, various member's of Jaune's family had asked what he was looking for. The answer had never been satisfactory. "I'm looking for money." Jaune had stated.
His father had laughed it off the first time, reassuring Jaune that money did not in fact grow on trees, and had pressed a small Lien note into his hand. Jaune had smiled and nodded, thanking his father. He still kept looking in the grass.
Jaune knew he had yet to find money in the wild grass by their home. But he searched anyway, confusing memories prompting him forward. They called to him, and sometimes kept him awake at night. Strong memories of setting out on an adventure without help, or proper equipment. Memories of desperately cutting down fields of grass, just so he could harvest what few tiny shards of currency were contained within, dropped by the helpful fey-like beings who littered within the fields.
He was in a good memory right now. Jaune hoped that he would remember the family that raised him as one of their own, because he was one of their own. At least, for now. He remembered other times, other times where (he?) someone had loved ones, but never a family as large as this one. Never so many loved ones. Kind elders, a smiling woman in a green tunic who would be young forever until she dies, and sometimes even parents that didn't abandon him or die... but no memories of a family like this.
Jaune liked the feeling, and he wanted to hold onto it for as long as he could. Even if fate? something called him away. He hoped he would have enough to make it home after heeding its call.
Their life was an idyllic one, as good as one could expect for a family led by a huntsman. The Arcs lived within a village close enough to Vale civilization to avoid being "frontier", yet far enough from the city that their property was spacious, their house just large enough to accommodate their massive family. Grimm attacks were rare, usually buffered by the many smaller villages that dwelt within the dreaded "frontier" line of Vale civilization.
But no life is perfect, Juniper Arc knew well. The mother and matriarch of the Arc family looked briefly outside at her son Jaune, still scurrying in the grass. Sometimes Nicholas was called upon for missions at the nearby frontier villages. Sometimes he came back late, or injured. Sometimes, late at night all she could think about was the statistics for huntsman, of how few survived a long career.
Today, she was fortunate enough to have Nicholas home. But just as with life, no moment could be perfect either.
"He's still looking for money in the grass, Nicholas." Juniper murmured.
"Maybe he's just got an overactive imagination. You remember him talking about magic the last time I was home, right?" Nicholas offered, placing a warm hand on her shoulder.
"I suppose..." Juniper responded. Jaune had a lot of strange habits once he was old enough to show them, and they had only become more prominent in the last year. Every few weeks, Jaune would pour through their yard by the tree line, looking for something. Even with his father granting him lien that was always saved and never spent, he continued to search through the grass "for money".
Beyond his constant searches, he had begun ignoring his peers at school. His teacher had found it puzzling. Jaune wasn't rude about it. If the other students interacted with him, he would interact back. And as far as she or the teacher could tell, there was no bullying going on. Yet at the same time, the only thing Jaune would do unprompted during the school's free time was study history and the Grimm, or go running around the school yard.
His behavior at home was a little better. Jaune remained friendly with his sisters- refreshingly so. They adored him, and he had always made time to help them, or make them laugh, or even just talk with them. But there were still moments when Jaune seemed... off. When he would look weary, as if expecting something to happen. When he would scan the horizon, much like her husband would when hearing of Grimm near their village.
"Maybe we should bring him to a specialist. We've saved up a bit of money, we can afford it." Juniper offered.
"I'm sure he'll be fine. I was moody when I was his age. It could be worse. Remember how Coral was." At this reminder, Juniper shivered. Nicholas and Juniper weren't the kind of parents who spanked their children, but Coral had come closer than any of the other Arc children. Coral's bluntness, combined with the stress of an early puberty had stretched the family's patience close to the breaking point. Even Jaune, patient as he was had been pushed by her words. Only Nicholas taking Coral aside and giving her a talk had allowed a peaceful resolution to that terrible phase.
"Maybe you're right. " Juniper said. She allowed herself to believe those words. So what if Jaune was eccentric? He was a kind boy, respectful to his family, and a harder worker than any of his sisters. If anything, perhaps she should have been grateful he was such a good young man, eccentricities aside. He was certainly better behaved than any of his siblings were at his age, apart from Saphron.
Jaune came back inside after an hour of searching in the grass. His sister followed closely behind, her nose still in the scroll.
"You find anything Jaune?" Juniper asked kindly. Jaune shrugged in response. His father laughed, and like any other time Jaune had done this, pressed a small lien note into Jaune's hands.
Jaune swung the axe down with a loud clunk, splitting the wood evenly. With a satisfied grunt, he threw the pieces of firewood into a wheelbarrow, before setting up another log carefully.
The Arc household burned through a lot of firewood during the winter. While they had electricity thanks to yellow dust, it was far cheaper to gather and cut firewood for their wood stove rather than waste dust generating heat.
It was a task that Jaune had taken to doing, instead of leaving it to his other family members. He liked doing it. It helped distract him from the memories he had. It helped tame the restlessness in his bones. After enough time cutting wood, or carrying in the huge load of groceries, or anything physically exhausting, all he could feel was an exhausted catharsis. It was relieving to focus on that over his memories. And his family certainly hadn't complained that he had taken over firewood duty.
It was also good for making him stronger. Jaune wasn't sure what he was preparing for, but he felt like strength would be important for it. He hoped that whatever it was wouldn't hurt his family.
Jaune continued chopping wood for another hour. By the time he had finished with his self-appointed task, he was drenched in sweat. His limbs were heavy, and his clothes were soaked. It was a good effort, and the wheelbarrow was overflowing with firewood. It still wasn't near enough wood for the upcoming winter.
It was then that Jaune felt a tingling on his hand. Jaune wiped his hand on his forehead, assuming it to be a minor twinge from woodcutting. His hands were already well-calloused by his work habits. When the sensation did not fade, Jaune wiped the sweat from his forehead, and took a look.
A golden triangle glowed on the back of his hand. Jaune stared at it, a slow understanding coming over his work-numbed brain. It felt familiar. It felt right. It felt foreboding. It felt like his fate, like whatever he had been preparing for had arrived. He stared carefully out over the nearby woods, the tree line naught but 100 feet away. There were no Grimm in sight, not that there should be with how active Nicholas, or the village militia was in scouting them out. Yet all the same, he felt like the triangle on his hand meant something. It felt like the magic he remembered, not the aura his father had exhibited, or the semblances he had read so much about in his textbooks or on his scroll.
It felt like his destiny. And then- there it was, the messenger of his fate. Jaune stared as a small ball of light, about as small as a frog slowly emerged from the forest, glowing ethereally before him.
"What are you?" Jaune asked wondrously, even as his memories told him the answer. A fairy!
The ball of light faded slightly, showing something vaguely humanoid in shape. It grew brighter again, before going toward the trees. It stopped just as it was about to reach the tree line. Jaune could swear it had turned back toward him, as if asking "Are you coming?"
"Give me a second, I need to grab something." Jaune said frantically, before running inside.
Jaune had never showered or changed faster in his life. Clothing, camping gear, and other survival equipment was thrown into his backpack. He had always been good at camping, something well-trained in him alongside all of his other strange memories and habits. It was serving him well here. He didn't know how long he had until the little ball of light (fairy) would fly off, and he didn't want to test it. Somehow, Jaune knew that he would find his answer wherever it wanted to lead him.
Jaune was nearly out the door before he stopped. It felt like he was missing something, missing a familiar weight upon his hip. He slowly turned toward the mantelpiece of the living room. There, upon the centerpiece of the living room was his father's sword.
Crocea Mors was a sword that the Arc family often saw, but never touched. The whole family understood that to touch the sword was to provoke a certain kind of ominous destiny of its own. The destiny of being grounded until adulthood by their father, Nicholas Arc. Jaune hadn't been there, but he had once heard of Sable touching the sword in front of their dad. To this day, she still winced at the sight of it.
But Jaune had to venture into the depths of the Grimm-infested wilds. The decision was made quickly. Jaune hoped his father would understand. The mantelpiece was too high for the 10-year old Jaune to reach, and so he fetched a chair from the dinner table to reach it. The sword, in its mecha-shifted sheath were held up by two hooks keeping it in place. With steady hands, Jaune took the sword down from its hooks, and unsheathed it.
Small nicks dotted the blade, and it was ever-so-slightly thicker at its base, likely the result of generations of Arc family warriors maintaining and re-sharpening the blade. Yet, it was still a high quality sword, if a bit heavy for Jaune's young body. Experimentally, he activated the mechanism on the sheathe. Despite already holding its weight, he nearly dropped to sheathe-shield from its sudden transformation.
"You know, dad's going to be mad if he catches you with his sword." Jaune spun around, to see his younger sister Lavender looking innocently up at him. "Can I at least try waving it around before we put it away?" She continued shamelessly.
"Lavender, I..." Jaune began to say, thinking of his words. "I have to go do something, check on something in the woods."
"Are you ok big brother?" Lavender said worryingly. Jaune resisted looking away from her adorable, blue searching eyes. Curse the cuteness of little sisters!
"I'm fine... I just have to check on something in the woods. I need you to stay here." Jaune explained, deciding to go all in on the truth. And with it, came the moment of truth. Would the light fairy still wait for him if she woke up his father? Or worse, came outside with Jaune? Despite being fit for his age, there was no way that Jaune could outrun his father, a professional huntsman. And he would feel guilty for doing so. At the same time, he couldn't afford to let this moment go to waste, despite any guilt he might have about this situation.
Lavender was quiet for moments that dragged on in Jaune's mind, her eyes seeming to search Jaune, his backpack, the way he held the sword. Jaune grew increasingly tenser, certain that she was about to shout what he was doing...
"Ok." Lavender said simply. "If you see a rabbit, can you catch it for me? I've always wanted a rabbit like in the bedtime stories." Jaune let out a sigh of relief.
"If I can catch one. I'll be back as soon as I can." Jaune said. He gave her a brief hug and pat on the head, before walking back outside. Lavender's eyes followed him, but said nothing as he ventured outside.
The light fairy was still waiting for him, pulsing slightly as he came back in view of the tree line. This was it. This was the start of... whatever Jaune had been preparing for.
"I'm ready." There wasn't much more to be said. The light pulsed, before moving slowly into the forest, Jaune following closely behind him. Overhead, the sun glowed a deep orange as the two walked off into the sunset, and into the wild.