He did it. Without any training or qualifications, He'd actually made it through the harrowing Initiation, and became the leader of team JNPR!
As Professor Port continued with his fantastical tale, however, it seemed that Jaune's trials had merely begun. Because how could a story about kicking ass and defeating giant Grimm be so boring! Jaune kept nearly falling asleep, and as he looked around the classroom it seemed that he wasn't the only one. Nora and Ruby had already cracked under the pressure, and it seemed like the rest of the class wasn't much more attentive than them.
Only Weiss was completely awake and listening, dutifully scribbling notes in a neat handwriting that put Jaune's to shame.
"...And there I was, facing three Ursa Majors and two juvenile King Taijitsu holding only a plastic spoon in my underwear! They attacked me as if I was a yummy snack, but…" Jaune rested his head on his desk, and his eyes drooped close. Wouldn't sleeping be nice? Everything still hurt from when the giant scorpion hit him with it's tail, and taking a nap seemed like a good… idea…
No! Jaune immediately bolted awake. He wasn't like the other students who were actually qualified and had the option of sleeping through lessons. He needed every single piece of knowledge he could get, and this might be the way he could catch up! Maybe it was just like The Valean Hero, and there were genius lessons secretly hiding under a wall of bluster! All Jaune had to do was decipher the bombastic tales of Professor Port, and he could get further ahead of the other, actually qualified students!
"Yeah right, like that's going to happen." But trying never hurt anyone, so why not give it a shot?
And so Jaune steadied himself, and with one last weary sigh and look at the nice, soft desk he kept on taking notes.
Who knows? Maybe one day, the knowledge of how you can use a juvenile King Taijitsu as nunchucks could actually save his life?
LINE BREAK
"Jaune Arc and Cardin Winchester, please retrieve your weapons and enter the arena. You have five minutes, go." Okay, so he was going to be the first to fight, and Cardin was one big, mean guy. His mace looked like no joke either.
"I'm going to get humiliated in front of everyone! And why are we fighting on the first day anyways!" Alas, Jaune's mental pleas reached no gods or ancient, wise spirits that could help him. All he could do was put on his equipment and grab Crocea Mors.
Was it just him, or did Crocea Mors feel colder than usual? Yesterday it felt like regular steel, but today it felt like grabbing onto a block of ice. Jaune's teeth clattered when he grabbed it's hilt, and some tiny, primal part of him screamed in dread.
"Huh? What's that?" Beneath Crocea Mors's leather wrapping, the upper part of some weird symbol could be seen. Jaune carefully pulled it back, and it looked like a red, vertical eye. However, he'd never looked under the wrapping, so most likely it was always there and Jaune was really just hyper fixating on small details to distract himself from his upcoming beat down. All the while Cardin watched him, snickering when Jaune fumbled with his belts and chestplate. "Prick."
"I'm gonna enjoy beating you into a pulp, Jauney. Punks like you don't deserve to be here, and I'm going to show the entire class just what type of a loser you are." Cardin told him with a smug grin. The prick seemed sure he was going to win, and why shouldn't he be? After all, Jaune was just a faker, someone who cheated his way into becoming a student. Maybe this was just what was coming to him, and all he could do was accept it?
"Let's just get this over with, right?" Jaune whispered under his breath, and thankfully Cardin didn't hear him.
Both of the young men exited the locker room and entered the small arena. Cardin hefted his mace onto his shoulder and got into a stance. Jaune opened his shield and held it in front of his body, along with Crocea Mors. Jaune's hands were shaky, and his stance was far from perfect. Cardin noted it all with an observant look, and smirked, seemingly eager to revel in his triumph.
"Are both combatants ready?" Both Jaune and Cardin nodded their heads, although Jaune's nod seemed shaky even to himself. "Then start!"
Jaune rushed Cardin, raising his sword with a shaky, nervous yell. Cardin just stood there, looking as relaxed as if he was at a barbeque. When Jaune reached him, Cardin kicked him in the chest. Jaune's Aura took a decent hit, and he fell to the floor with a painful groan. And maybe it was just Jaune's imagination, but Crocea Mors seemed to shudder in his hand, as if furious at the humiliation. Sorry that I'm such a bad wielder, Crocea Mors. Obviously the blade remained silent, but it felt even colder now. Where before it felt like a block of ice, now it was as if the sword had been in outer space.
"Get up, Jauney-boy, we're not done yet." Cardin sounded calm and relaxed and a smug grin was on his face. "I haven't even used my weapon yet!" Some people in the audience laughed, and Jaune felt humiliated and angry. "Go to hell, you prick!"
"Go get 'em, Fearless Leader!" Jaune got up again with a slight groan and rushed Cardin again, this time abandoning his shield entirely. Jaune reached Cardin again, and this time Cardin moved so quickly that Jaune didn't even see it.
CLANG! Crocea Mors was locked against Cardin's mace, and even though Cardin kept on putting pressure on the blade, it did not move. Even when Cardin tried to use both his hands, it simply wouldn't budge. Jaune and Cardin were both shocked, albeit for different reasons.
Cardin, who wasn't paying attention to Jaune but rather Crocea Mors, did not see Jaune's knee coming. Jaune's kick nailed him in the balls, and while his Aura took a small hit, the force of the kick still forced Cardin to his knees, clutching his bruised jewels. In the stands, Nora cheered loudly. Jaune took his opportunity and slashed at Cardin's head with Crocea Mors, taking a decent portion of his Aura. "I can do this!" Jaune thought. He raised his sword to cut away at Cardin's skull, but by then he had gotten up again.
Cardin looked furious. His face was reddened and a snarl was etched into it. He punched Jaune in the stomach and tore Crocea Mors out of his hands, throwing it across the arena. "Oh, shi-" Cardin slammed his mace against Jaune's shoulder, and rammed his body against Jaune's.
Jaune fell down to the floor with a thud, groaning and clutching at his stomach. Cardin raised his mace again to deliver more punishment, and by now a satisfied grin had come back onto his face.
"The match is over. Winner, Cardin Winchester!" Professor Goodwitch interrupted Cardin before he could give Jaune a brutal beat down, sparing Jaune from the humiliation. She still regarded Jaune with a disapproving look and shook her head.
"All combatants, recover your weapons and go to the locker room." Professor Goodwitch said in a stern, demanding voice. She gave Cardin a nod of approval as he walked by her, and barely looked at Jaune.
In the locker room, Cardin barely paid Jaune any attention besides giving him a dirty look. Jaune, on the other hand, was looking at Crocea Mors with wonder in his eyes. "What was that?"
(LINE BREAK)
Later that day, when Jaune was on the rooftops alone, he regarded Crocea Mors with a look. Since he wasn't, well, trained in any way, he had to do it himself. For that reason he had searched for some Vytal Festival clips, and was now copying them. He just couldn't get it, though! No matter how hard he tried, he kept stumbling or failing in some other way. It was like he wasn't meant to be doing it, like he was just a faker trying to be something he wasn't. Well, it's not like he was anything else.
"I am a faker, after all." Jaune dropped to the floor, still holding Crocea Mors. Maybe Dad and Mom were right, and he shouldn't be here. They still didn't even believe he was accepted, after all. Nevermind how angry they'd be if they found out he forged his transcripts.
"Oh, stop your whining!" A deep, inhuman voice spoke out, it's tone laden with frustration and annoyance. It then fell silent, and Jaune nearly screamed.
"W-who's there! I-i'm armed and capable of using it!" Jaune shakily said, pointing Crocea Mors at the many shadows on the rooftop. In response, it trembled in his hands, although that could've also been his own fear.
"...You heard me? Wow, I didn't think it was possible." The voice muttered, bit then fell silent for a second. Jaune had the feeling that it was pondering something.
"Well, that's something positive. I am currently in your hands, pointed at some empty shadow." Jaune looked down at Crocea Mors, and the blade twitched in his hands, this time clearly of its own choice. Jaune's eyes widened, and he dropped it to the ground.
"Don't drop me, Jaune. I didn't abandon you when that other human attacked you, did I? I'd like the same courtesy during something as simple as a conversation." The sword said in a mocking, but warning tone. Jaune finally noticed that the voice didn't come from any direction, but was only in his head.
"W-what's going on? What are you!" Jaune sounded like a wuss even to himself, but it's not like he ever had a talking sword in his hands before.
"You're a slow one, aren't you? I don't think I've ever had a wielder like you before. Maybe Julius, but even he…." The voice got distracted and trailed off, muttering about kings and tyrants. After another second, it put it's attention back onto a shocked, silent and maybe a little offended Jaune.
"Listen, meatbag, because I won't explain myself twice. I… am a Gheist who got into your sword, and it's a very nice sword, but that's not important now. What's important is that I can help you. I know you cheated your way into this academy and that you have no actual combat ability." Jaune flinched at the voice's harsh and accusing tone. He didn't know what a Gheist was, besides that it was a Grimm, but he chose to listen to what it had to say for now.
"Currently, you're weak and slow, along with being as skilled as a farmboy. But you are a farmboy, aren't you?" The voice was amused, but it kept talking. "But I can change that. You've seen what I can do, and I can teach you what I know. With me, you'll be able to become one of, if not the best in this place. All you have to do is keep feeding me your Light, just once every day."
"And why shouldn't I just hand you over to the professors, huh? I doubt they'd be happy to know there's a Grimm on campus!" Jaune chose his moment to butt in, his pride injured by the Gheist's mean comments.
"Then they'll wonder just how I got into this sword, and look a bit closer at your transcripts. And who knows what they'll find with a closer look?" The Gheist sounded amused, but underneath that Jaune could almost feel a sliver of fear. But Jaune felt fear too, fear at being expelled and having to return to his parents empty handed. The way they'd look at him with pity in their eyes and tell him how he did his best. He couldn't take that, not again.
"So… do we have a deal? I help you, you help me. Honestly, you're getting a lot more out of this arrangement than me. I'm a generous soul, after all."
Jaune stood still, thinking. If he didn't accept, he could still hand Crocea Mors over to the professors. After all, he didn't think that having a Grimm in his sword would be very healthy. But if he did, they'd expel him. His features twisted into a scowl and he started to pace around the rooftop, walking around Crocea Mors. It's hilt kept pointing at Jaune, beckoning him to pick it up.
"...Okay. We have a deal. So what's your name?" Jaune said in a shaky tone of voice. Even though he agreed, he still felt apprehensive about touching the posessed blade.
"I don't have one, but if you need to call me by one, call me Crocea Mors. That's the name of the sword I'm inhabiting, no?"
And Jaune picked up the blade by it's handle, sealing the deal between man and monster.