Ch.1 A dream shattered
Jaune Arc, a boy with the dream of becoming a hero, has finally figured out his first step. He had long known that his father would never allow him to become a huntsman, let alone train him for the Signal academy entrance exam. Hell he didn't even have an unlocked aura when he arrived for the entrance exam.
Needless to say, he was utterly crushed in the exam and subsequently failed it. It wasn't for nothing though, he now had his aura. Sure the only reason someone unlocked it for him was because of the heavy injuries he sustained during the exam. And he had to not only spend a week in a hospital bed, but also explain to his parents how he got there.
Yeah, that just wasn't a fun time for Jaune. And now that his parents kept an even closer eye on him he couldn't even borrow his ancestral blade, Crocea Mors. Before this he used to sneak out and swing it against a tree in what amounted to training in the mind of a clueless teenage boy. But after he used it in the exam, his parents put the blade under lock.
This however, together with his parents' insistence on him finding a different career path, brought up an idea. He now didn't have a weapon, but students at Signal were expected to design and forge their own weapon. Jaune only discovered this when he read the pamphlet about Signal in the waiting room before the exam.
Now though this little factoid brought about a whole new plan to become a huntsman. Step one of course would be to forge his own weapon. And since it was now expected of him to find a different career, he could do it under the guise of apprenticeship under the local smith.
"Jaune, why don't you reconsider. You could be a musician for example."
"Look dad, I know you don't want me to be a huntsman, and now I can see I'm just not capable of becoming one and have given up on this dream." Jaune lied as easily as he breathed "But at the same time I still want to protect people like a hero would. I just figured if I can learn to make and maintain weapons and armour I could at least help others to do what I can not."
"Look Jaune, I just don't want you to try something you'll inevitably give up on."
"I've already given up on one dream dad. And even then only after a failure that put me in a hospital. I think I've proven that I am at least stubborn enough to not give up without reason."
"Haaa… Jaune, just promise me that you will think hard about this, and if you decide to go for it, that you will see this through. It might seem far from now, but you really should think about becoming independent from us."
"Okay dad, I'll think about it some more, but if I choose this path, I promise not to abandon it."
Jaune really wasn't going to think about not doing this. In his eyes, this was his last chance to become a huntsman one day. What it did do though was make him think about the consequences of failure. And really there weren't that many. If he couldn't become a huntsman, he would be stuck as a smith. But was that so bad? No, not particularly.
Jaune was never a studious type so civilian highschool and university were not something he could see himself enjoying. He wasn't stupid, he simply always enjoyed working with his hands more than studying history or math.
At the end of the day the only issue was if he couldn't become a smith. He believed he could do it, even if it turned out to be harder than he imagined. After all, he was determined to see this through. He would make a weapon for himself and continue training, and in a few years, he would take the beacon entrance exam and become a huntsman.
=O=O=O=
"Jaune! Are you still in there? I told you to finish up and go to sleep hours ago."
The booming voice of master smith Cobalt Fèvre echoed through the workshop, overpowering even the sound of Jauned hammer strikes.
Fèvre was a large hairy man with dog ears. His semblance was something to do with hearing the metal as it was struck with a hammer, which made him a great blacksmith and a demanding teacher.
"I'm almost done, Fèvre. Give me five more minutes to quench the blade and I'll go to sleep."
"Boy, if you're still working the same blade the metal will be ruined anyway."
"No it won't be. The base alloy was almost 40 percent dust."
"Did your hand slip or are you daft? Why the hell would you make a sword with that much dust, no one will be able to infuse it with aura, and without it, it will just be brittle."
"I should be able to infuse it myself and be able to complete your stupid test and my training."
"If you think you'll be able to break one of my swords with that brittle piece of shit, you deserve to be hit by my hammer."
"We'll see soon, old man. I'll finish your test before my 17th birthday."
"In two weeks ey… Well, if you can use that abomination maybe I'll finally be rid of you."
"Love you too Fèvre. I'm done for tonight. I'll grind and finish tomorrow."
"Well don't sleep in. You've got armour to polish, they'll pick it up by lunch."
"A crisp two hours of sleep… hurray" Jaune shouted back with mock enthusiasm, as he went to bed.
It felt like his head barely hit the pillow when an alarm on his scroll went off, informing him that he did in fact sleep for two hours, and that it was time to get up.
Seeing as he didn't actually shower or even change clothes before going to bed, he chose a shower over breakfast.
After a few minutes and a cold shower, Jaune was dressed and on his way to the kitchen. Drinking a cup of water and grabbing two cereal bars.
Making his way into the workshop he noted that it was barely sunrise and that master Fèvre was suspiciously absent… meaning asleep.
Jaune looked at his workbench where he left the blade he spent all of yesterday forging. It took him months to figure out the exact alloy and then weeks to prepare an ingot of it.
He sighed and went to get the armour he was supposed to finish up. He was fairly proud of his work on this piece but the bird ornament on the chest piece was just awful. But Winchester had money and Fèvre was well known as a very good blacksmith, even if he lived in the boonies. Shame that the Winchester guy was a racist and as such Jaune had to make the armour, since Fèvre wouldn't touch it.
But money was money, and Jaune needed the work as much as Fèvre despised the man.
Of course as far as that Winchester fellow was concerned the armour was made by a master smith and not his half decent apprentice.
As Jaune polished the armour he had time to think, and the first thing he realised was that he was still hungry.
Taking a bite of his cereal bar to chew while he worked, he suddenly became nostalgic. A few years ago he would sit at home every morning eating pumpkin petes and dreaming about being a hero.
When he became an apprentice he still had the dream of training to be a huntsman in his spare time. What he didn't realise was that as an apprentice there really wasn't any free time. Then came another blow to his ego, his first blade. It was bad, frankly it must have been really bad since even Jaune could tell that the sword was misaligned, badly balanced and couldn't hold an edge. It took him almost two years until he was able to make a blade that wasn't bad. It was still mediocre, it chipped easily and when he hit something all the vibration rattled his arm. But slowly he got better, learned more and eventually almost forgot his original goal behind becoming an apprentice.
His goal now was to finally become recognized by his master and start thinking about opening his own business, probably in Vale. The smaller towns didn't have a need for a blacksmith nowadays, and the bigger settlements already had the one blacksmith they needed. No Vale was the only option to become independent.
It will be his birthday soon, the very end of February. Technically he only had a birthday every 4 years, and though it wouldn't be this year he liked to celebrate nonetheless. He would be 17. He would be starting at Beacon this year had he not failed his Signal entrance exams. Though since entrance exams for Beacon are in the middle of March, Jaune was just out of time. Even if he finished his apprenticeship on his birthday he would have about two weeks to train for the exams.
He knew how to make a sword and a little bit about how to use it, but combat? No, he had no combat skills to speak of. Though he learned to use aura to strengthen his hammer strikes and prevent himself from getting burned by the flying sparks, the last time he fought he spent a week in a hospital.
He wasn't foolish enough to fake his way into Beacon. He could try, but years of honest work had wisened him up some. Beacon was the best combat academy there was, and their background checks were probably up to that standard.
His idle thinking continued throughout the frigid morning, though the workshop was still slightly warm since the forge hadn't finished cooling yet. It was coming up to noon, and Fèvre still hadn't arrived. Now while he could be asleep, the more likely conclusion was that he didn't want to deal with Winchester.
Well it wouldn't be the first time Jaune had to deal with someone the master smith didn't like.
Speaking of, the armour was polished like a mirror. In other words he was done with his chores and could start focusing on the blade he forged yesterday.
He took the Blade to the wheel grinder and started working on the blade, waiting for the customer to arrive.
Work was slow on the blade. With aura it would be almost impossible to grind, but as it was he had to be very careful not to damage the high dust alloy blade. After almost an hour of work, the sound of a fist knocking on the door of the workshop was heard.
"Coming!"
Turning off the grinder, Jaune stood up and went for the door. He took a deep breath. Let the bulshiting comence.
"Hello, you must be mister Winchester, sir."
"Yeah, who are you? Where is the old dog!"
"I'm just an apprentice. Master Fèvre went to sleep a little bit ago, he spent a lot of time finishing up the armour you've ordered."
"Good, I'm paying for quality here, so it better be a masterpiece."
"It certainly is sir, I watched the whole process and the thing is a work of art. Come on in, I'll show you."
Jaune turned away from Winchester before his face cramped from the forced smile.
"Here it is, I can't help but notice, that you already have a fine suit of armour. Is this a gift for a son perhaps?"
"That's right, it's an early gift for his birthday, he's been accepted to Beacon and the school year starts a few days before his birthday. He's a prodigy you know."
"You must be proud. Anyway here it is, the armour itself is high carbon steel and dust alloy, the trims and bird crest is brass dust alloy. armour fit for a true huntsman."
"Good, tell the old dog he's done an adequate job. Here's the payment."
"Yup, 2000 Lien as was previously negotiated. On behalf of master Fèvre, I thank you for your patronage."
As Winchester left the smithy with a box full of armour, Jaune pocketed the gold lien card and turned to go upstairs.
He didn't make it halfway across the workshop when Fèvre stepped down the stairs.
"Hear that boy, adequate job. That's high praise for any junk you make."
"From you it would be. From him it was an insult to the craft. Especially since he would have said the same had you made the armour yourself."
"Yeah, the man's a git."
"Is that why you overcharged him?"
"No, that was because he's a cretin and a racist."
"Anyway, here's the money, I'm back to working on my sword."
"You know those belts are for polishing, not grinding."
"On any other material, yes. With this nightmare of an alloy I used, the high grit is necessary so I don't chip it. Can't fortify it with aura either, since that would make taking material off impossible."
"So you did your research huh. Is that what you've been tinkering with these past few months?"
"Yeah, I needed an alloy that would be able to hold aura in it for an extended period of time and hold a lot of it. I did some calculations and with a bastard sword of this size I can sink almost all of my aura into it and it will hold it for about a day. The aura bleed from the sword is only about one twentieth of what I regenerate, meaning I can easily keep it topped up indefinitely, unless I lose it or my aura is broken."
"Shame you're a blacksmith boy, such a weapon is far better suited for a huntsman."
"Did you know I wanted to be a huntsman?"
"Yeah, your dad mentioned it when he asked me about the apprenticeship. Said you got heavily injured during Signal entrance exams."
"Yeah, and at the time I fought with Crocea Mors."
"Wait, is that why you just won't make a normal blade? Boy, if you're chasing the indestructibility of your ancestral blade, you might want to give up. The materials and procedures that sword is made with are long lost."
Jaune smiled a little.
"I know… still feels like something to strive for. And I did make a normal sword. It sucked, you told me that yourself. I worked it for too long and the steel degraded. The only way I can make a decent sword is with a high dust alloy. I still can't make a good blade in the time I have. But I can make a great blade if I have the time, and dust alloys allow me that time."
"So the extremely long working time really was on purpose."
"Yeah. And furthermore, it helps distinguish me. I may not be able to make a kitchen knife, but how many blacksmiths are willing and able to pour over thirty hours in a row of just forging the rough blade, not even accounting for how time consuming grinding material away is."
"Wait thirty hours? I thought you just woke up early yesterday."
"Nope, started the day before that. I knew you were going drinking with my dad, and you sleep with earplugs when you come home drunk."
"That's… Jaune, what the actual fuck."
"Yeah I know. Keep in mind I'm running two hours of sleep after that. But, for the first time, I have a good feeling about this one."
"Honestly, that sword better be a masterpiece."
"I'm not the one who came up with the idea of testing your apprentice's blade against your masterpiece that you couldn't let go of. Honestly, if I was able to make normal weapons I still wouldn't be able to pass that stupid test. What is that blade made with anyway?"
"If you break it, I'll happily tell you. After all, you'll need to forge me a replacement one."
"Yeah, yeah just let me work, god this is going to take days to finish."
"Care to share the alloy in the meantime? I'm curious what exactly you came up with."
"Base is high carbon steel, the stuff they make bullhead armour out of. The other ones are titanium, tungsten and platinum. Can't tell you the exact ratios, too tired to remember. I have it written down in a journal somewhere. The rest is 40 percent inert powdered dust."
"The titanium and tungsten I get, but platinum?"
"The damn thing didn't want to alloy properly. Even with the platinum it wouldn't create an even ingot until the dust was added. Basically, I've been trying to come up with the alloy since early November and when I finally figured it out I spent two weeks just preparing the billet."
"Jaune…"
"Hmmm?"
"Put the work down, I'm ordering takeout and after that you're going to sleep. I will not let you mess up your work now. Next time you work on that blade you better be rested or I'll put you to sleep with my hammer."
Jaune just sighed and stopped the grinder. Cobalt was right. He waited this long, there was nowhere to rush now.
=O=O=O=
Author's note:
I've been sitting on this for over a year now and have finally decided to start posting. The plan is one chapter a week so please look forward to next weeks chapter: Ch. 2 A dream reforged