Chapter Two

It was a Friday when Percy's routine was broken. The first snow of the winter had fallen—an early December snow, which from what he knew was relatively normal for Mistral—and the servants dormitory was in utter chaos. People were running in and out of the room, and orders were being shouted left and right.
He sat up and swung to his side, ready to get up, and before he could even touch the ground he was being hurried.

"Quickly, the Nikos family is going to be here for lunch!" That explains it. The Nikos family was one of the five Great Houses of Mistral, with permanent representation on the Council, and the minor house he worked for, the Arvernians, would surely want to pull out all the stops if they had managed to get a visit. Having good relations with a Great House could yield all sorts of perks, although he wasn't privy to the exact political horse-trading going on.

Still, he had heard, outside of the politics, that their daughter Pyrrha was training to be a huntress, and had won the Mistral regional tournament, a tournament where 13-17 year olds tested their battle prowess against one another, for three years in a row. She was also, unsurprisingly, a favorite to make it four.

Indeed, it was nearly impossible to converse through the day without at least someone who paid rapt attention to the huntsmen and huntresses mentioning her victories. It was damn impressive, and the clips his coworkers had shown him on their scrolls—phones, essentially, but with even more functions—more than convinced him of her skill.

The morning was thus spent preparing for the lunch, and all of them were worked to the bone scrubbing, sweeping, and moving all of the various house objects immensely rich noble families used to impress each other into the entry and the dining room. Cups, plates, heirlooms, some especially lavish seats, the whole mile.

When the time came to welcome them, he was, surprisingly enough, designated as one of those welcoming them to the mansion, alongside the Arvernian patriarch and matriarch and another servant. As they entered the frankly enormous foyer, the heads of both families exchanged the regular greetings, and he stood there awkwardly for a moment, watching the interaction between the four Arvernians and the three Nikos.

All the men were dressed in inordinately expensive suits, while the women varied between elaborate dresses, as the matriarchs opted for, while the 12 year old daughter of his employer and Pyrrha, the 16 year old daughter of the Nikos, wore simpler skirts which didn't impinge on their movement. The fiery red hair displayed by Pyrrha and her mother contrasted with the varying browns and blacks of the other nobles in the room.

After the initial greetings, the two families began to talk more in earnest as they slowly proceeded further inside. The Arvernians had a 14 year old son, and as the greetings were winding down and he conversed for a moment with Pyrrha she seemed to laugh at something he said, and through a laugh said, "Well, if you're already giving up, perhaps one of your attendants would be willing to spar me instead?"

For a split second his mind froze, his legs continuing to move subconsciously. The gods themselves must have blessed him with this opportunity—and he stepped forward.

"Well," he put on a lopsided grin, "If it's not too much trouble, I've always wanted to try my hand at a bit of swordplay." At this, everyone in both families stared at him. The 14 year old's eyes widened, and both his parents half-glared at him, disliking that a servant had stepped into the conversation but grateful to deflect attention from their son.

Pyrrha herself appeared to contemplate for a moment, her green eyes narrowing, before she spoke. "I'd be happy to!" She glanced towards the Arvernians. "I don't suppose you have a sparring area and practice weapons?" Pyrrha's father let out a small sigh, but otherwise showed no emotion.

Before long, they were in a small arena. Pyrrha had changed out of her dress into more combat appropriate gear, while he had shed the pants typically worn by servants in exchange for shorts. Both were equipped with four foot long blunted iron swords and small shields, and surrounding them there was a viewing gallery filled not only with the noble families but also most of his coworkers, many of whom wished to see the 'Invincible Girl', as she was known, in battle.

"So, any reason you volunteered to spar me…?"She trailed off, looking for his name—the question came as somewhat of a surprise to him, and he stumbled for an answer for a moment.

"Percy, and I haven't had the opportunity to see if I had any potential in the martial arts in my life, and…" he trailed off for a moment, glancing downwards before looking back at her, "I've always wanted to try it out. No better time than now, right?" She hesitated for a moment before nodding.

"Pyrrha", she started with her name in response—although he was sure she knew of her fame—and continued, "I suppose… reach for the stars, don't back down, that's how I've lived my life." He smiled, and nodded, before they both got into form for the spar.

Lord Nikos counted them down, and as he reached zero the two began to circle each other, with Percy wanting to figure out how best to display his talent and Pyrrha wanting to see how this novice would approach her—although his footwork was excellent….

After a minute of indecision, Pyrrha decided that enough was enough. She sprinted across the ten feet separating them, and went for a basic attack over the head, swinging down towards his right shoulder. She was surprised when he expertly parried her attack with his shield and moved to slash at her midsection, blocking the strike with her shield.

Her eyes narrowed, and she backed off a couple steps before plunging back in. This time, she went harder—not quite employing all her moves, but testing his defenses. Had he gotten lucky, or was he going to be able to hold her off?

Her question was answered when he spotted her admittedly basic and poorly concealed attempt at a feint towards his legs, blocking her actual slash towards his torso. She nodded, impressed. He was good… and she might need to go all out…

Again, Pyrrha jumped back, this time resolving to quickly end the spar and then give this boy, who seemed similar to her in age, more tips about how to fight. Perhaps, if he was young enough, he could gain entrance to an intermediate combat school… he'd be late, but the talent might make up for it.

Again she dashed forward, but this time Pyrrha wasn't going to be employing basic tactics. She feinted with a slash towards his torso before swinging her sword over his head, bringing it down into his shield. He was driven to the ground, and by the time he got up she was on him, constantly probing for holes in his defenses.

Constant slashes and stabs towards him were consistently driven back, and she grew frustrated. Every time she tried to leverage the advantage in strength provided by her unlocked Aura and powerful physique, he declined to directly block and instead parried and deflected. This went on for what felt like hours to her, before she finally made one minor mistake. She stepped a couple inches too far forward, throwing off her stance, and the tides turned.

He unleashed a flurry of his own, forcing her onto the defensive, the first time in years she had been forced to actually focus on just defending herself against a series of strikes. Soon enough, though, she found the perfect opening—just a slight motion of her hand, and his final strike was ever so slightly off.

In an instant, Pyrrha switched to the offensive, her final parry with her shield paired with a swing of her practice sword. He was forced to block, with no room to deflect, and the sword went flying from his grasp. She quickly drove him back, standing between him and his sword, and after a few strikes he jumped backwards and dropped his shield.

"I yield!" He said as quickly as his vocal cords allowed. He was panting, and she, quite frankly, was as well. If he could fight her this close with no training and no aura…

A thought occurred to her. She glanced over to her father, who had an eyebrow raised, then back towards Percy. "That's the best fight I've had in years. I'm going to Beacon Academy in the Spring, and, to be honest, I think that you'd more than qualify."

He grinned at that. "Well, how do you go about applying?" At that, Pyrrha looked back over to her father, who nodded.
"Well, typically you can only apply when you're lined up to graduate from a combat school like Sanctum," she paused, looking back at him, "but I can get my father to put in a word to their headmaster, Ozpin, and that might be enough to get him to send someone over. You said your name's Percy, right?"

He nodded. "Perseus Jackson, but I go by Percy."

"Well, Percy," she said, "I hope we can have a rematch in the future." With Akoúo̱'s unique abilities, she'd be able to fully utilize her skillset… and fully test his.

Far from Mistral, in the Kingdom of Vale, two men sat at a table. One, with black hair, red eyes, was middle-aged. The other had silver hair, an aged appearance, and brown eyes which held wisdom incomparable to anyone else on Remnant.

"Tell me, Qrow," the silver-haired man addressed the other, "have you ever seen anyone but a huntsman fight this effectively?"
"Ozpin," Qrow addressed the older man, "kid's seventeen. As far as we can find he's worked as a servant for a few years, but all the documents are vague about how long exactly, who his parents are, everything, really. " The implication was clear: Salem had agents everywhere. How were they to be sure he wasn't one of them?

Ozpin folded his hands. "Well, Qrow, I was thinking you could go and check out the situation. Talk to him, scout him out, and bring him to Vale." He paused, and looked across the table towards Qrow. "We both know that her agents have never proven able to properly socially assimilate. All of them have something wrong… and I trust you to figure out if that's the case."

Qrow looked at Ozpin for a moment. When it became clear he wasn't changing his mind on this, he got up. "Fine, Oz, I'll trust you here. We'll bring him into Vale, and see how he does. Hopefully it goes well."

As Qrow walked away, Ozpin glanced down at the table. Was this new factor going to be a blessing, or a curse? He'd have to play his cards right… and even then, only time would tell.

A week later, Percy woke up as usual, got dressed, and got back to his regular work when, around ten o'clock, he was interrupted and told that someone was waiting for him in the entryway.

When he got there, he saw that there was a gray-haired, red-eyed man in a simple shirt and pants waiting for him. Percy raised an eyebrow, and the man responded.

"Hey, kid. Name's Qrow. I was told you're Perseus Jackson, might be huntsman material?"

Percy blinked for a moment, surprised at how quick the response was. "...Yeah, something like that."

Qrow waved a hand towards him. "Well, follow me outside, kid, and we'll see about that." Percy followed him outside into the cold winter air, and the older man set a brisk pace. Before long, they were far enough from the Avernian estate to be almost unseen, and the man, Qrow, turned around.

"Suffice to say Professor Ozpin, the headmaster over at Beacon, managed to snag a recording of that spar with Ms. Nikos, and he was impressed. What's your semblance, kid?"

Percy blinked. "I don't know yet. My Aura hasn't been unlocked."

Qrow's eyes widened, and he whistled. "Damn, kid, alright. Let me fix that." The older man placed a hand on his chest, and recited a short, polite phrase, before doubling over. As Qrow removed his hand from his chest, Percy felt more powerful than ever. He felt like he could fight anyone and win; his legs tensed with energy and the temptation to at least pull out Riptide and swing it a few times was immense. It was similar to the Curse of Achilles, in all honesty, except he didn't feel the ever-constant urge to sleep that he had felt during that.

Percy gasped, and pulled his fists to his chest, tensing his arms. He looked down, and saw himself glowing sea green, although the effect was quickly fading.

Qrow straightened back up, and raised an eyebrow. "Damn, kid. You have one of the largest Auras I've ever seen. Now, based on what I've seen, I'm pretty sure your fighting will be up to Beacon's standards… but what do you know of history? Of the Grimm? Being a Huntsman isn't just throwing hands, and you'll need knowledge to properly exercise that power."

Percy didn't have a very good answer to that. "Well, I know what Grimm are… and history's certainly interesting…"

Qrow brought a hand to his face. "Alright, in that case you're going to need to catch up a lot before the school year starts. You have four and a half months before Beacon's next year starts, and we're going to see what we can do about that head of yours." He pointed back towards the estate. "Got anything sentimental back there? I'll be able to set you up with a few sets of clothes, some basic gear, and the like, so don't worry about that, but if you have anything important…"

Percy shook his head. "Nope, all I've got back there are a few pairs of this outfit," he said, gesturing to himself.

Qrow snorted, "All right, then, if you're ready then we can go catch a bullhead to Vale, and I'll talk to Oz along the way about how to get you up to speed." Percy considered this proposal for a moment. Did he have any ironclad proof of any of this? No. But it wasn't like he had any choice… and more importantly, when had that ever stopped him?

Percy nodded, and followed the man away from the estate. Within the hour they were on a bullhead, and shortly after that Mistral disappeared from his vision.

A/N: Thanks for the couple of reviews, much appreciated! Putting this up pretty early on Tuesday as a result. Also, as a prelude, I do want to say that I don't intend to repeat canon scenes unless they're practically required for the plot I'm laying out; things like Team RWBY fighting the Paladin will be mostly happening off-screen. With that in mind, if you're reading this and haven't watched RWBY I'd recommend at least the first 2 or 3 volumes—they're not too long, and are great context. Volumes after that won't be as relevant to the story.

-KoP