Melancholia I
For one Jaune Arc (Huntsman-in-Training, one-time fraudster, natural blond, and currently siiingle~), everything was coming up aces.
After a rough start at Beacon Academy, he had been in a constant state of playing catch-up. Now, it seemed as if everything was finally on track. He'd managed to turn his poor reputation into something resembling dignity. His daily training regimen provided him with steady, noticeable progress in skill and strength. Academically, he'd reached a good point, one which guaranteed his advancement to next year by a comfortable margin. Achieving his dream only seemed more possible as time went on.
And his friends! Like, wow, his friends have been nothing but supportive. Each were an inspiration for him to follow in some way. Ruby and her heroic optimism, Pyrrha's martial excellence, Ren's composure, and he could go on and on about everyone else, too.
So, yeah, things were pret-ty great in Beacon. Just fine. Dandy.
...
If...
If someone had asked him to name one teeny, tiny thing he might be bothered by, though, he might point a finger at the assignment currently sitting on the desk next to his bed back in the dorm room. An essay for an understated, yet quite necessary, course in Beacon Academy for Huntsmen and Huntresses called Ethics 101.
Or, as Jaune liked to think of it, 'Why the Likes of Cardin Winchester is not the Ideal Huntsman 101'.
Who is Cardin Winchester? Not important for today's purposes. And not an ideal Huntsman by most metrics, either.
Ethics can be defined in broad strokes as the principles governing, and the philosophical study of, one's sense of what is morally right and wrong, good and bad. Under Professor Glynda Goodwitch's tutelage, the course first touched on such matters as a sentient species' basic right to stay alive on Remnant, and the rationale thereof for the Creatures of Grimm to be categorized as an absolute evil. Y'know, the obvious.
From such straightforward topics, the syllabus moved on to the different ethical models that prescribed an individual's actions, making use of thought exercises to illustrate the real-life dilemma of Huntsmen in the field. It was around this point where some students-cough, Cardin, cough-discovered to their surprise that their priorities in which civilians to protect very much crossed the line in terms of both the accepted moral consensus and punishable offenses. In addition to the affirmation of his archnemesis' failings as a person, the focus on discussions instead of graded exams appealed to Jaune and he enjoyed the class on the whole.
That was, until the course took a turn for the...the aspirational, one might say, starting with that damned paper assigned last week. In it, Professor Goodwitch asked a very simple question.
'Why do you want to be a Huntsman?'
Putting pen to paper, Jaune had scribbled out his answer in ten seconds flat.
I want to be a Huntsman because my dream is to be a hero.
Professor Goodwitch requested that they turn in two pages, but the unvarnished truth shouldn't have to fit someone else's expectations, right? That sentence encapsulated the entirety of his motivation, and was compelling enough that he deemed it fit to break the actual law to get a spot in Beacon. This one wish drove him to spend one grueling day after the next in relentless training. It led him to achieve proficiency with his sword and shield, and honed his body into the physique of a warrior. His performance these past few months can be directly attributed to his dream spurring him on.
Yet, it looked a bit strange when he actually saw his heart's desire, once a nebulous feeling screaming in his ears to take action, expressed in such plain language. The emotions behind the words lacked the impact it always had whenever he reaffirmed it to himself. He had to read the sentence again a few times before he identified the source of the wrongness.
When one thought of a Huntsman, the word 'hero' came to mind first and foremost. When one thought of a hero, the word 'Huntsman' topped the list. In other words...
I want to be a Huntsman because my dream is to be a Huntsman.
...he had no good reason at all.
And so, Jaune Arc skipped class.
-O-
They say that life began in the ocean.
Presumably, that was until the giant Grimms in the deep chased everyone on to land. Jaune sometimes wondered if he misunderstood the meaning of that line because he could not guess how people can live in the ocean, although he can see why they would want do so now that he stood before it. The view of the water from the pier was fantastic.
The people of Vale must think the same, seeing as they've built four more scenic piers like the one he stood on, spaced out along the beaches of Vale's upper-class residential districts. They protruded far out over the water, each stretching half a mile or so by his estimate. A lighthouse rested at the end of the pier, just a few yards from where he leaned on the railings. Its first floor was taken up by a restaurant and a gift shop.
At 10 AM on a weekday, this end of the pier was a place of peace and quiet, and the sound of the ocean waves reigned. From time to time, a jogger rounded the lighthouse to run back the way they came.
To his left, a few fishermen reclined in camping chairs as they watched the fishing lines. By the splashing he could hear coming from the coolers by the chairs, their morning has been quite fruitful. To his right, a boy similar in age to him leaned precariously over the railings. The teen had hooked one leg around the metal post, but the other leg was pulled up so he could squat on the top rail. In his hand, a selfie stick.
The fishermen murmured to each other, taking bets on when the boy will slip. The chances of that happening were…well, pretty high judging by how he shifted this way and that to get the best lighting and background. For a short moment, Jaune considered moving closer in case the teen took a tumble and needed someone to grab him. It was what a hero would do.
Jaune stayed where he was.
For the life of that guy, he could not muster up the energy to take five steps. Therein laid his current dilemma. A hero had to care. For all lives, and for a single life.
He had scoffed at Cardin's answer to a thought exercise proposed in Ethics class, the one on who to save in a Grimm attack. Yet, his own answer had been little better. He chose the largest cluster of people because there were more lives that can be rescued. It was a game of numbers to him, one with a logical conclusion. Logical… and impersonal.
To him, the people he knew mattered; his family, his friends, acquaintances and so on. The rest hardly registered to his mind, and felt less real in some way. At times, they seemed more like vague silhouettes in the approximate shape of people than actual living beings.
Ruby had a different answer. She chose to save everyone. Even when Goodwitch said the exercise did not allow that option, she stayed with the same choice. Strangely enough, she received an A for the assignment.
That was the difference between a real hero and a fake. She cared.
Sad to say, he failed to feel the same even when he knew he should. He would, in all honesty, say that the ocean held a marginally higher interest to him than anything else nearby at the moment.
On the Docks side, dumping and runoffs over the years have resulted in murky depths with a thick, sludgy consistency. Here, however, the city had curbed such activities. Before him laid a clear, blue sea extending to the horizon, its pristine beauty a sight to behold.
Schools of colorful fish swam to and fro, creating a rainbow palette beneath the water. Dozens of fish would leap high into the air on wing-like fins, their silvery scales glittering in the sun. Further out, a pod of dolphins performed the same feat, with an occasional corkscrew spin or a flourish of the tail as if to show off a neat trick.
What he truly enjoyed, though, were the waves. They would rush toward land, each inevitably breaking upon the sand with a roar. The water would soon withdraw from the shores with a soft sound akin to a sigh. Together, they composed a song that soothed his heart. Even after thirty minutes have passed, he was still captivated. He could sense the will, the drive, welling up within himself with every ebb and flow of the tide. What were pitiful little lives compared to the majesty before him? This was worthy. It could be his reason, this view.
...this unchanging view.
And thus, the moment was lost. A touch of monotony intruded where there had once only been a restful joy. What was special became a bit less so, and he knew it was time to go before this experience turned into something mundane. He pushed away from the railings, stretching out his limbs to work out the kinks. Sure steps carried him past the self-photographer without sparing a glance.
His intention had been to get back into the city, and maybe return to Beacon for the afternoon lessons. The scents of spices and cooking meats tickling his nose suggested otherwise, and he decided an early lunch warranted his attention. Goodwitch likely had him marked for detention already, so why not double down? A quick course correction led him to the glass doors of the lighthouse restaurant. At the threshold, he paused.
Giving a last look at the blue sea over his shoulders, Jaune considered if his answer has changed any.
The conclusion he came to was that as nice a memory this would become, it did not resolve his conundrum.
This sight will still be here tomorrow. Next year, too. A hundred, a thousand years later it will remain whole and undiminished. The conflict of man and Grimm has no bearing upon the sea. What need has it of his service? Were this his love, he might as well take up the life of a fisherman.
If he were ever to become a Huntsman, it sure wouldn't be for the sake of the ocean.
Now, let's see about that restaurant. Maybe seafood can sway his mind?
Next chapters: Impatience I, Curiosity I, Whimsy I
Author's Notes: An idea that was not on the 'To Write' list, but captured my interest anyways. Different characters get different themes, and will help flesh out the city of Vale. Someone else will have a turn next chapter.
Short, so I can update whenever the mood strikes. Priority right now is Yakuza Arc, Yakuza Arc Christmas chapters, Christmas oneshot idea, another idea from the list, then this story.
No Melanie and Miltia Malachite. Such travesty! ( ￣~￣)
But, well, considering my track record…
A series even more aimless than Yakuza Arc.