The Grimm Lands Chapter 17
Hunting Grounds Part 5: Should My Demons Wake
Six Years Ago
Winters in upper Anima were notoriously cold. The land became blanketed in snow, turning frigid and inhospitable. Jaune could see his own breath hover in the air like smoke as he loaded a magazine into his pistol. The bitter cold chilled the metal, biting through his gloved hands.
"Are you sure you have everything?" August asked again.
"Yes, I'm sure." The response was mechanical. August had many great attributes and virtues, but his constant worry was beginning to wear Jaune's nerves thin. This wouldn't be his first official mission. Ever since his Aura was unlocked, he had volunteered readily for dozens of different roles and positions around the camp. He had done everything from scouting to resupply missions, desperately trying to prove himself. Finally, he had done enough to be given his first job as a frontline scout. To lead the way into a potential Grimm-infested nest in an abandoned Dust mine. He would only be scouting, paving the way for August and his platoon to sweep in and eliminate the actual dangers, but it was still a large step towards becoming a real Hunter and maybe even a Hero.
"I just want to make sure you don't forget anything. If something happens you don't want to be stuck alone without proper gear," August said.
Jaune had to stifle a groan. This was a big moment and August was absolutely ruining it. The large man looked at him with those sunken eyes full of worry that at one point may have been endearing but now placed a hollow feeling of mistrust in Jaunes stomach. It was unfair, but if never allowed to really prove himself Jaune would always be smothered by August.
"I know Nix will be there, but if something happens don't hesitate to use your signal flare. You made sure to load it right?"
"Yes!" Jaune snapped. "I loaded the flare, I packed extra clothes, my first aid kit is fully stocked. I have extra bullets and Crocea Mors is oiled and sharpened. I have everything, so just leave me alone alright?"
August never got mad at him, which stung even more when the hurt flashed in his eyes. However, pride outweighed his guilt and Jaune reshouldered his pack and picked up his rifle. "I'll be alright. So don't worry so much, this is what you trained me for after all. I'll come back; I always do."
It was meant to be reassuring but the comment left a lingering bitterness in his mouth. August didn't raise his voice, didn't lash out or scold. Instead, he ruffled Jaunes hair like always. His large hand lingered for a moment. "I'm not always going to be there to fuss over you, so let me have this alright. Try not to get on Nix's nerves, and make sure you keep your wits about you. I'll see you when we get back."
Just like that, August left. His large frame retreated and Jaune was left alone. He wanted to apologize, say it was the heat of the moment. Another part pushed it down. Jaune wouldn't allow himself that moment of weakness. He wasn't a kid, and he had to prove himself able to exist without August's constant presence. He shouldered his pack and cast one last glance around the tent before he left.
Snow never really fell in lower Anima so outside of fleeting memories from family trips to Argus, Jaune had little experience with it. The white powdery dust crunched under his boots, his foot sinking down to the ankle. Jaune huddled closer in his clothes trying to save whatever heat he could. His Aura was doing its best to fight off the cold, but it was a constant effort to keep it engaged at all times and whenever Jaune would lose focus or become distorted it came right down and the wind would nip and bite at his exposed face.
The camp was in a state of near madness. Trucks and men were bustling from one corner to another. Orders were barked and Jaune was careful to avoid being trampled by mistake. He had always seen the camp break into this type of frenzy before every mission. Before he would look like an outsider, just waiting for his chance to help, to belong.
Now, he stood in the center of it all, an active player.
He found Nix near the maintenance area by a rusted-over truck. He was cleaning a rifle as Jaune trudged over, barely sparing a glance. "Did you eat?"
"No..." Jaune had been too eager to sleep the night before and had rushed to pack his bag in the morning. Food had seemed like a distant thought in the moment, but now his stomach growled its complaint. Someone shoved a bowl of half-eaten, lukewarm porridge into his hands. "But I..."
"Eat. You're not going to get a second chance and we have a long day ahead."
Anderson was a dark, tall, and lean man. His presence never really stood out in a crowd, but he had a constant kind of cheer that put people at ease. He had been a schoolteacher in another life before a Grimm attack had wiped out his settlement, now he was a designated point man for Nix's assembled squad. Jaune did as he was told, it felt like sludge inching its way down his throat, but he ate the food with no complaints.
"You know the route?" Nix asked. Jaune had been diligent enough to memorize the maps of the roads leading into the abandoned mining settlement the night before. He had burned the memory of every ridge, road, and stream into his mind and with every confidence Jaune nodded. Nix seemed indifferent as a grunt was his only acknowledgement.
"Don't tell me you're taking to liking the kid now too? I can only handle the one August; you start getting all parental on us and I may just take a bullet for myself instead of the Grimm." One of the men said.
"Don't waste the ammunition," Nix commented dryly.
Jaune hesitantly ate his food as the others joked and loaded up the vehicle. It was a single truck, marred by weather and Grimm attacks. The once white vehicle was now dirty and weathered. As he finished his food Jaune found himself shoved I to the open bed of the truck, hugging the radio and his pack against his chest, wedged between two men far larger than himself.
Scouting turned out to be far less glamorous than Jaune had thought it would be. They had pulled up a few miles from the small mining town, tucked away in the far reaches of the mountainous regions of Saunus.
"We're here to identify potential Grimm, nothing more," Nix had instructed him. "You sight one, you let us know. We take stock, light up a flare and fall back. The others will come through and clean up any nests or packs. No heroics this time, I don't want to even hear you fire off that weapon unless there is a Grimm at your throat."
That had been some hours ago when the sun had just started setting and the air held the last few traces of warmth. Jaune tried his best now to rub some heat into his frigid fingers. The cold pierced through his layers of clothing. The truck had been turned off to save on gas which also meant the heater was inaccessible. Jaune pulled the heavy blanket around his body as he shifted in the snow.
"Stop moving," Nix reprimanded him. The man was like a statue, rigid and unmoved by the cold. The only reason Jaune was certain he was alive at all was because of the slow, deliberate breaths that Nix would take. "Don't give away our position."
Nix had taken him closer to the town. Jaune was the only one of the group besides the former Huntsman himself who had Aura. As such there was no debate as Nix forced him on a two-mile hike through the frigid cold, up onto a ridge that gave a better, open view of their target.
"What are we even hiding for?" Jaune asked as he shifted. His feet were starting to fall asleep, and his back ached from the constant pressure. "Grimm hunt through fear and emotion, don't they?"
" It's not for Grimm. Raiders, bandits, and other groups are the real threats. A bullet will take you out faster than any Grimm."
"How long are we going to scout?" It had been hours since they arrived and Jaune hadn't seen signs of anything or anyone in that time.
"Until I'm satisfied," Nix said.
The conversation withered and died from there. Jaune suppressed the urge to groan, fought back against the dull ache in his back, and took to looking through his binoculars again.
His eyes trailed over the abandoned wooden shacks and buildings that littered the cliffside. It was a small mining town that had been used as an illegal labor site for Faunus workers years ago. He could make out a few abandoned shipment crates off in the distance with the distinct logo of the Schnee Dust Company. The town was large enough to hold at least a few hundred but as he trailed over the rotting wooden buildings Jaune noticed there was no sign of any sort of mining equipment. There were no tools, or machines, no forgotten shipments of Dust. The town looked like it had been completely abandoned in the middle of the night, an eerily still picture.
"Hey, Nix?" Jaune asked hours later. "Why did you stop being a Huntsman?"
"Do you ever stop talking?" was the only response.
"Oh come on, we've been here for hours. At least give me something to help fight off the boredom," Jaune complained. "If I'm going to be one someday, then I want to know more about it."
He had long given up on trying to actively keep his aura up and relented to bracing through the cold. His fingers were near frozen and his eyelashes stung every time he blinked but he kept his post.
"You still want to be one?" Nix asked. Jaune honestly hadn't expected him to respond. "Even after everything you've seen out here?"
"Yeah," Jaune said. "Why wouldn't I?"
"Why haven't you asked August?"
"August was a Huntsman?" Jaune had never heard that before.
"No, Atlesian Military. Still, he'd be able to answer any questions you have."
"I don't always have to be at August's side," Jaune muttered almost bitterly. "Besides I'd rather hear it from a Huntsman himself."
"Nothing to tell. I did my job, did it well, got sick of it, and left," Nix said.
"That is the least helpful answer I have ever heard," Jaune complained.
"Wasn't trying to be helpful. Shouldn't you be focused on the mission?"
"I am!" Jaune hated how much of a child he sounded like in that moment. He refocused his efforts on scouting the area, but just like before there was nothing there. Just empty, hollow homes and rotting wood. He had expected the silence to descend between them again, so it was with great surprise when Nix let out a long sigh.
"I knew bringing in a kid would be more trouble than it was worth," Nix said. He nudged Jaune with his foot to make sure he was paying attention. "I'm only saying it once, you drop your guard or lose focus and we're done here. Make a comment on any of this to anyone, I will beat you. And if you so much as look away from the target, I will drag you back to the truck and leave you in the cold until I'm done. Understand?"
Jaune was afraid if he nodded it would break his gaze from the town, so he awkwardly nudged Nix's foot again with his own.
"I joined the Atlas Military Training Institute in high school. I was a poor kid from the slums of Mantle and for people like us, the only real way upwards is through the military, in the service of Atlas. During combat training one day I got in rough with a bully. He was a racist-baiting piece of trash. A son of a high-ranking government official. Well, as he and his group of friends were beating the piss out of me, my Aura unlocked. I didn't know what it was and suddenly they couldn't touch me.
"After I got my own few hits in, the school took me to see the Headmaster. I thought I was looking at expulsion but next thing I knew I was on my way to a Huntsmen preparatory school. Turns out Aura isn't as common as some would think. Only a select few can ever even hope to access it, and even fewer ever really do. Well, Atlas wasn't going to let a possible new Aura user go, didn't even matter I was dirt poor. I stayed in, after all, I was already expecting to join the military, and now I could complete training and start off at a higher pay grade. Seemed like a solid deal.
"I trained, fought, learned, and became a fully licensed Huntsman for Atlas. I was good. I was a good soldier, and I knew how to carry out orders. I managed to catch the interest of the top brass and was offered a chance to join the Ace Ops. Know them?"
Jaune hesitated to shake his head, fearful it would break his gaze from the town. He fumbled over his words in response. "No, I don't think so."
"Elite Atlas Huntsmen. Best of the best. Special Ops under the direct authority of the Atlas Council and Military High Command. It's where I met Clover. Didn't last long. First operation with them I got saddled with a smooth-talking partner from Vacuo for a joint operation in the upper continent."
The upper continent was an unknown. An unsettled, inhospitable landmass lurking at the edge of Remnant filled with Grimm. It was the only continent on Remnant that had never been touched by man. Jaune had only ever heard fairy tales and horror stories about the kinds of monsters and evils that lurked deep within the unclaimed territory. "You went to the Dark Continent?" Jaune asked.
"It's a shitty place. Worse than you'd think. Nothing but ancient Grimm and land completely untouched by the sun. It didn't go so well, so I left, followed after my partner and started up a mercenary band in the furthest corners of claimed land on Remnant."
"Wait, you mean Jack was the one you were with during that mission? What happened? Did he hurt his leg during it?" So many questions were suddenly flooding through Jaune But Nix nudged his foot again.
"You said you'd stay focused. No more questions. We'll break for the truck at dusk." Nix said with finality and Jaune was forced to settle back into the snow.
It was hours later when Jaune caught sight of movement in the town. At first, he believed he was only seeing things, that his tired eyes had finally betrayed him. However, when the shadow danced between buildings, he knew it wasn't his own mind playing tricks. He nudged Nix and pointed out the shadow. It moved slowly between buildings, only its head ever really visible and even then, it was growing too dark to make out more than a simple shape.
"It's human at the very least. Small though, could be a trap."
"What if it's a survivor?" Jaune asked.
"Out here in these conditions? Doubtful," Nix said. "More likely to be a scavenger or a bandit."
"They look small. Is it a child? Do bandit camps have children do their dirty work?" Jaune asked.
"We do," Nix said and Jaune almost missed the smile that flashed on his face. That was the first time he had ever heard Nix make anything like a joke.
The figure moved slowly from building to building, making no real effort to hide itself. Jaune watched it move almost aimlessly through the town.
"It's almost like they want to be seen," Nix noted "It's too risky to move in on our own. We should move back and let the main camp know."
Jaune was about to agree before the figure was dragged away with unnatural speed. He could hear the loud, echoing wailing of a child screaming as he watched the small child's shadowy figure be dragged off.
"Grimm!" Jaune shouted.
Nix cursed and reached into his back pouch; pulling out a handheld radio he sent out an alert back to the truck.
"Emergency, hostiles in the area. Unknown Grimm, at least one casualty. Area not cleared. Send out emergency flare. Recon team heading in."
He waited a breath before the response came back over the radio, confirming the message. Jaune looked back over his shoulder and could make out the trailing green smoke of the flare being fired into the sky. It was a message to the main strike team that hostiles were already in the area. It would be up to Jaune and Nix to determine the threat, and if they could, how many there were. They would identify what they could and pull out before the fighting started.
"We're heading down," Nix said as he rose. As he shouldered his rifle, the armored gauntlets around his arms clicked into place. The mechanics of it were lost on him but Jaune watched as the two cylindrical bracers on his arms expanded. Cascading down like waves they dropped over his hands and secured around his fingers. Nix flexed his fists checking that the gauntlets were properly secured. Jaune could see small Fust compartments lining the wrists of the gauntlets. "Stay alert. First sign of trouble we withdraw and regroup with the convoy. Don't go playing hero."
Jaune had always known Huntsmen weapons were unique and different, but this was the first time seeing one up close. Nix's weapons were simple metal gauntlets that covered his hands and forearms. They were apparently equipped with top-of-the-line Dust enhancements that could activate different combinations and types for close range combat.
Jaune nodded and followed after Nix as they descended towards the town. It was a rough and steep descent. Jaune nearly fell down the slope as he tried desperately to keep pace with Nix's steady, confident pace. The others would stay behind in case of emergency and be the first to report to the strike team. The only mission that Juane and Nix were responsible for was to gather as much information as possible about the target before the strike team went in.
Nix reminded him once more to make no heroically stupid stunts. It was a search and observation mission. Jaune knew that the reality of humans in the mix complicated matters. If it was bandits, they would withdraw immediately.
Suddenly the fear and anxiety from that morning had returned anew. It was one thing to have always dreamed of fighting on the front lines, but there, in that moment Juane was filled with nothing but uneasiness. In his head he always imagined charging straight ahead, slashing down the monsters and enemies in his path but as he entered the silent town all he could feel was a creeping sense of dread. His boots crunched underneath as fresh snow began descending from the blackening sky. A storm was coming.
He stuck close to Nix, the Huntsman was on guard, his Aura expanding and grinding against Jaunes as they stalked between empty buildings. Nix kept his rifle shouldered and ready, he barely acknowledged it when Jaune drew a pistol from his side.
"Eyes up," Nix said. "You shoot me, I'll come back as a Grimm and rip you a new one."
"I wouldn't shoot you," Jaune responded. "Stabbing has always been more my thing."
"Cheeky little fucker."
They made their way slowly between buildings, never stepping into the main center of town. At all times Nix made sure they had some form of cover, he never strayed too far out, in fear of someone else watching and waiting for them to make a mistake.
The crunching of boots and heavy breaths were the only sounds that could be heard. The blowing of wind would occasionally rattle the decaying wood of the buildings. There was no sign of life, no signs of the boy they had seen earlier. Nix turned to him and started to say something when a terrible scream shattered the silence. It was igh pitched and long. It sounded young, laced with fear and pain. Jaune remarked Lucia screaming like that when the Grimm tore into her arm.
Jaune was running before he realized. Nix cursed out behind him, but it didn't matter. If someone was in danger he had to help. He crossed over the open center of town, kicking up snow as his feet beat against the ground. The sound of crying was louder now. He slowed, straining with all of his might to determine where it was coming from.
All of the buildings were uniform, plain, and unimpressive wooden shacks raised on stilts to help protect against the inclement weather. The house he found himself in front of was no different. It was rotting and the steps creaked as he climbed up them. He could hear the sound of a child crying softly from just beyond the door. He jostled the doorknob just to find it locked. He banged on it, calling out to anyone inside. The crying stopped and for a heartbeat all Jaune could hear was total silence. Then a muffled scream.
With every ounce of Aura enhanced strength Jaune shoved against the door. The rotting wood caved in under the force as it tore from the frame. The splintered fragments rained down around him as he crashed headfirst inside the dark, damp room.
The smell hit him first. He nearly retched up his stomach as the scent of decay and rot clogged his nose. It was pitch black inside, the windows had been barricaded with broken furniture and discarded wood. The dwindling light coming from the broken doorway was the only source of illumination. It took Jaunes eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness. He clutched his nose and forced himself to not vomit. He reached blindly about the room, searching for anyone. His hand touched something soft and leathery. His gloved hand closed around it and his face came to meet the half-eaten torso of a naked woman.
He recoiled backwards, violently slamming against the wall and accidentally tipping something onto him. The pale and sickly flesh of a child's upper body fell into his lap. It was a young boy, no older than six. Its lower body was gone and in its place was a perfectly maintained upper body. Its wide vacant eyes stared up at Jaune and he could no longer hold the bile. He vomited as he threw the body away. His vision adjusted and he could see them. He saw them all.
Lining the walls were meticulously arranged corpses in an varying array of clothing and wholeness. Men, women, and children. Human and Faunus. They were all there. Children with their lower bodies torn off were cleanly dressed and well groomed. Men with Atlas military uniforms sat idly with their necks bent at unnatural angles. Women sat slumped and lifeless with chucks torn out of their wombs, legs, and faces.
Jaune keeled over onto his hands and knees and retched onto the floor. His mind was spinning, and his body was shaking. This was damnation, it had to be. It was the only thing that made sense.
He heard the crying again; it was above him. With some small form of hope still flickering inside he looked for any sign of life, anything to give him some form of hope. All he saw was the piercing glowing red eyes of evil. He had heard of Wendigos, he had researched them, seen pictures and photos when he was familiarizing himself with the types of Grimm native to the region.
He had never seen one quite like the creature that hovered in the rafters above him. Its narrow bony face leered down at him as its unnaturally long arms hung loosely at its side. Fur lined its head, cascading down almost like some kind of hair. The horns of its head twisted and curled into fine, sharp points. He could see the beating, thumping core of its body. It was a deep, bloody red that shone past its exposed rib cage.
It looked larger than the ones he had seen in reference, more than that it looked aware. It stared at him, and Jaune knew it understood what he was. It was unsettling, most Grimm only saw humans as prey and nothing more. This one however, understood he was human, it understood the difference between them outside of simple hunter and prey. It was an ancient Grimm.
Its mouth opened wide and a long, pink, dripping wet tongue unfurled from its mouth. The Grimm let out the sound of a child whimpering and crying as it stared him down. Jaune's body went rigid in fear, and he shook. He had been tricked; the Grimm had lured him there with a corpse it had been saving. It mimicked the sound of a child and led Jaune straight to it.
It relished in his fear and feasted on his despair. Jaune's mind was shattering. He was surrounded by death on all sides. The lifeless corpses stared at him with empty, hollow indifference as his chest seized. The Grimm ran its wet, pink tongue over its bony maw as if savoring the meal before it. Jaune took an unintentional step back and tripped over the body of a young boy. His dark hair was matted down with blood and dirt. His eyes were wide and mouth open in an eternal scream. Jaune was shaking, he was terrified. This wasn't what he wanted. This wasn't what he expected. This wasn't right. It wasn't normal. The child's screaming continued, the Grimm's gaze never breaking from its prey. Jaune wanted to scream, to throw up, to cry and beg for someone to save him.
He crawled backwards in an attempt to flee, the clammy body of a young girl with blonde hair came crashing down onto him as he brushed past. He shoved the half-eaten corpse away from him with a scream. He was forced back into that moment so many years ago when his family home caved in, and his youngest sister cried in fear as she was pinned under a wooden beam. He remembered his mother's dress catching fire. He wanted it to stop, he wanted to die.
His Aura pulsed in response to his emotions. It offered a small protection from the nightmare before him. The Grimm descended from the ceiling. Its long arms were careful to avoid the bodies littered around the room. It took great care to maneuver between them all as it came closer. Its hot breath trailed across Jaunes clammy skin, and it circled around him. It wanted him scared; it wanted him to fall into the deepest pits of despair before it finally killed him.
Would his body be used like these other ones? Would the Grimm use him to lure more unsuspecting people to their deaths. Would it use him to lure in August?
The Grimms tongue licked across his cheek. The hot, rancid breath crawled across his skin. It kept uttering low human-like screams that pierced and clawed into his mind. His body wouldn't move, he couldn't think clearly.
The Grimms' large pitch-black hands cradled Jaunes head almost comfortingly. Its pure red eyes stared straight into his own and it watched him, taking whatever kind of growing satisfaction it could from his sheer terror. It was ripening his fear. He wanted to scream but his voice was a heavy block of frozen ice in his throat. Its wide bony jaw unhinged and came closer. It was as if in slow motion as Jaune watched it descend, widening enough to take his head off in one bite.
It was absolute desperation and rabid fear that let him plunge the knife at his side into a crack just under the Grimms left eye, sinking deep into leathery skin. The Grimm shrieked and smashed him across the face. Jaune tumbled over as his Aura flickered yet held. His hea9d spun in confusion but he was running before he could even think. He tripped on the corner of the shattered doorway and fell face first over the small staircase and into the frigid snow. The Grimm burst out right after him, its bony, knife-like fingers missing him by inches.
The sheer cold and shock of the snow brought him back to his senses. The chilly air swept the scent of death from his nose and his every instinct urged him to run. He dove under the house, grateful for the stilts. The Grimm lunged after him, its unnaturally long arm nearly grabbing his leg as he crawled further under the house. He rolled onto his back and looked back into the face of the Grimm. It screeched wildly, shoving, scratching and slamming itself into the structure, trying to reach him.
Jaune pulled the sidearm from its holster and fired recklessly into the Grimms exposed face. The bullets bounced off its hard skeletal mask, but Jaune kept firing. He pulled the trigger over and over until the magazine emptied. The Grimm shrieked and wailed, and then stilled. Its neck cracked as its body shifted. It stared at him, eyes straight and its head suddenly dropped forward. Its arms snapped in an awful symphony of shattering bones and torn joints as it forced its body under the house. It laid flat and began a slow steady crawl towards him.
Jaune shuffled backwards kicking at the long bony fingers that dug at his feet. The Grimm screeched in frustration and pulled itself backwards. Its body snapped and twisted back into its original shape as it withdrew. Jaune breathed for a moment before its fingers slammed into the underside of the wooden structure and with a deafening screech it began to lift the house upwards. Rotted wood groaned with protest as the ancient Grimm lifted with all its strength. Jaune looked on in shock and horror as his only protection was torn away. The two-story structure cracked and splintered as the Grimm threw it from the stilts and it toppled over itself in a massive heap of exploding wood.
The Grimm's sharpened and wet teeth gleaned dangerously as it reached for him. Jaune knew it was faster than him. If he ran, it would almost certainly catch him, but if he fought, he would die.
His heart froze and his body stiffened as he hovered in a moment of indecision, all the while the dark, shadowy hand of darkness closed in around his neck. He squeezed his eyes in terror and prayed for someone to save him.
It's hot, smoky breath burned his face and he watched, almost in slow motion as the Grimms jaw unhinged and enveloped around his exposed neck.
Nix smashed a stone fist into the Grimms side and as it recoiled in pain he channeled a surge of electric dust into its body. The Grimm dropped Jaune in a panic as it swiped for the Huntsmen. Nix dodged and pushed both fists into the Grimms exposed core and channeled fire dust into the creature, sending it careening backwards into the overturned house.
Jaune felt the man hoist him up by the front of his shirt and slam a fist into his stomach. As Jaune lurched, emptying whatever was left in his stomach Nix gripped his face and stared him dead in the eyes.
"I said no heroics. Get to the truck, send out a distress signal," He shoved a radio into Jaunes hands.
With a push Nix sent him running away from the monster, away from the carnage. The impact had cleared his mind, brought him back to his senses, even if momentarily. His feet were pounding against the snowy, uneven terrain as he ran. His breaths came out in short raspy puffs of smoky air as he ran. Jaune stumbled, crashing face first into the snow but even as the icy cold numbed his face and froze the tears streaming from his eyes he didn't dare look back, he didn't dare stop moving. As Nix faced the monster Jaune could only flee in terror. A gross feeling of shame and relief settled in his chest.
The confusing emotions were stripped away when his foot caught on the mangled remains of a human body, and he tipped forward into blood-soaked snow. The scream froze in his throat, and he scrambled backwards, feet flinging stained snow mixing it with his frantic, steaming, shallow breaths.
Massacre.
The word itself didn't do justice to the brutality in front of him. The truck had been shredded by powerful claws, twisted and curling metal shards bent in unnatural angles. The doors had been ripped from their hinges and the entire vehicle nearly torn in half. Blood splattered the snow in winding roads of blood, all leading back to pieces of bodies that had been shredded apart.
Jaune had seen what a pack of animals could do to a corpse, he had hunted often enough outside of the camp to see what a starving animal was capable of. This was nothing like that. The limbs of the men had been torn off, leaving the torsos and heads intact. It was similar to pulling the legs off of a crab and savoring the pieces one by one. A wild animal didn't relish or drag out a meal.
Grimm.
They weren't dead. The men were groaning quietly, dying breaths shaking their mutilated bodies. They would be dead soon, every last one. The Grimm would wait until the last possible moment of suffering and the final moments of despair. They would wait until the meal had ripened to the finest point before finally delivering the final blow.
Jaune hovered over the broken body. The man's right leg had been ripped off below the knees and his arms had been torn apart at the shoulders. His blood-soaked hair helped to cover the crater on the right side of his skull. His eyes were wide and panicked, darting around in search of something that wasn't there. He couldn't speak, blood and phlegm clogging his throat.
He wanted to vomit, to scream and run, but his feet were frozen in place. He could make out the furry unnatural shape of a Grimm just feet away. Its sharp teeth tore into the body of another man. Jaune couldn't be sure who it was, but the faint groaning made it clear he was still alive.
Jaune's hand trembled as his hand fumbled with his pistol. He raised his trembling arm up. He couldn't aim. The Grimm, hunched over its meal, ignored him. The sound of flesh tearing mixed with Jaunes shallow breaths. The monster was right there in front of him, all he had to do was pull the trigger.
The first shot strayed too far, missing the monster by inches. The second shot was a clumsy accident caused by the surprise of the first shot. The Grimm looked towards him; blood red eyes glowing in the icy haze.
It was smaller than the one that attacked him in the town, but the distinct lanky form of the Wendigo was unmistakable. There had been more than just one. It had been a trap from the beginning. The monster snarled and lunged for him. Jaune ducked as the air where he had been standing was sliced apart by the force of its claws. He dropped his pistol in panic and yanked desperately at his sword. The metal blade caught in the sheathe and he was too late to react to the powerful kick that broke apart his aura and fractured his ribs. He flew backwards, back slamming into the ruined remains of the truck. His breath fled him and his vision fazed black.
He groaned in pain; his head was slick with blood. The Wendigo was a blurry, shadowy shape and as Jaune struggled to keep his eyes open he could only watch as the monster turned away from him and continued its meal. It was no mercy; it would let him suffer in fear and pain before it came back.
Jaune braced himself against the ruined vehicle as he groaned to his feet. His hand found the hilt of Crocea Mors. With unsteady steps he inched his way towards the Grimm. He had to kill it, if he didn't it would kill him. The familiar weight of his sword felt especially heavy as he unsheathed it. His left arm throbbed with sharp pain, but he ignored it. The Grimm ignored him still, clearly not perceiving him as a threat. Adrenaline swelled inside him and with a great deal of pain and effort Jaune lunged forward, months of practice guided his blade straight through the back of the monster. The metal dug into its shoulder, but in his pain and delirium Jaune missed the heart. As he tried to pull the blade back the Grimm raked him across the face with its claws.
Jaune's vision tinted red, and his face lit up with searing agony. He yanked the blade free, and the Grimm howled. It shoved him onto his back and lunged for him, fangs reaching for his open neck. Jaune shoved his arm between the monster's teeth and bit back a cry as the sharp Fangs pierced deep into his flesh. The Grimm growled, sinking its bite in further. The pain became so intense that for a moment Jaune thought he had lost his arm entirely.
The Grimm pulled back, its teeth splattered blood across Jaune's face and his arm was drenched in deep crimson. It slammed its fist against his chest and his ribs gave way, the last vestiges of his Aura cracked and shattered at the impact. For a blissful moment, he lost total consciousness. As the monster aimed once more to tear out his throat Jaune was completely numb to anything.
His head went white, and his vision blackened, there was no cold, no Grimm, and no pain. He couldn't feel any of it. He watched almost in slow motion as the Grimms wide maw inched closer. He could see the rows of sharpened teeth and was almost able to count each one. He could see the fiery red of its eyes, the total hate and anger burning inside. As he watched his life end, the smell of burning wood and charred meat washed through him. He could hear screaming, and he could suddenly feel the heat of fire and the terror of death. He could remember his mother crying as she held onto his sisters as their home came crashing down.
'I'm sorry'
The Grimm shuddered and stilled. The cool and sharpened metal of Crocea Mors sliced through its chest and out its back. The monster's fangs hovered around Jaunes ' throat, small trickles of blood blossomed and flowed from where it stopped just short of killing him.
The Grimm slumped forward, exploding into ashen dust. Jaune gasped for air, his body wracked in pain. His consciousness was barely intact as he rolled to his feet. He leaned his weight on his sword, legs threatening to give out. He shuffled towards the truck once more.
The radio had been completely destroyed in the attack. Reaching with difficulty into the back seat Jaune yanked free a flare gun that was secure to the back of the passenger seat. He fired up into the air. A trail of red smoke shot upwards high into the sky before exploding into a burst of bright light that enveloped the sky.
Looking up at it Jaune nearly sagged in relief, a sweet feeling of hope almost made him forget the carnage all around. Help would be on its way.
The small ember of hope was ripped straight from his heart and replaced with the deep icy tinge of despair as a familiar howl echoed through the clearing. Every fiber of his being, every ounce of his soul froze. His body shook, unwilling to turn around, unwilling to accept. He could feel it. It was there. He heard the unnaturally soft sound of it shifting through the snow with its long, nightmarish body. He could almost feel its hot breath on his skin again. He smelled the blood that had soaked and bathed the creature for years. Behind him loomed death itself, and he couldn't bear to face it.
Step by step, heartbeat by heartbeat the seconds dragged into eternity as the Grimm inched ever closer. Jaune's breathing became frantic, short huffs of air as his body trembled. Crocea Mors shook in his hands, heavier than it had ever been.
He couldn't think, couldn't act. When the Grimm let out a deafening wailing howl that stretched into the air and priced his ears like a sharp knife against his mind he flinched. The howling went on and on. Only growing in fervor and pitch. More voices joined in, other Grimm. They joined in a chorus of wailing; from all sides they closed in around him. His eyes darted around in panic. He could almost make out the faint glow of their red eyes, like flickering candles in the growing darkness.
He took an involuntary step backward. His back collided with the dampened fur of the Grimm. A long claw worked its way around his neck, still slick with blood.
There were no thoughts, no plans, no will to fight. It was the mind-numbing terror of death that ran through him. His body was cold, and his mind was numb as the Grimms hot tongue dragged across his face, as its unnaturally long fangs hovered just above his head. The glowing eyes in the distance waited, they waited for their leader to feast before they would tear apart whatever remained of him.
He tried to find that rage from before, the anger and determination that helped him save Lucia, that made him willing to fight as his home burned all those years ago. He pushed away from the Grimm, took a half turn around and summoned whatever strength he could into shoving his blade upwards. He froze once more as he looked into pure, hate filled eyes. The deep bloody crimson scared him. The Grimm crouched down at eye level, watching him.
Jaune hesitated and the Grimms' wide fangs lunged for his throat.
An ice-infused fist broke the Grimms exposed jaw before a fire explosion sent it careening backwards. Jaune was thrown forward from the impact. Before he could register what had happened Nix was already hauling him back to his feet. Stepping in front of Jaune, Nix readied himself as the Grimm in the distance rushed forward. It was hard to tell in the dark, maybe a half a dozen or so creatures sprinted through the shadows in blurs of white and black. Nix smashed one across the temple and shoved a fist of out through the chest of a second, killing it on impact. The Grimm in turn gave him no room to breathe. They lunged for the injured Hunter, blood smothering his face and one leg barely supporting his leg. They attacked him as a pack of rabid animals, piling onto his large frame, clawing and tearing at any unguarded flesh they could find.
Jaune could only watch in horror and shock as Nix smashed his fists together in an eruption of Fire Dust that burned the Grimm and forced them to retreat. His gauntlets smoked from the heat. Nix glanced back at Jaune, he tried to say something but was cut off by the bigger Wendigo sprinting back towards them. Nix lowered his stance, his gauntlets clicked and whirred as fire consumed them. The Grimm reached out with its long talon like fingers, Nix sidestepped and hit it squarely in its broken jaw. Bony fangs flew in the air and Nix grabbed the broken remains of its mouth in his hands. He slammed the Grimm into the snow with a bust of Aura enhanced strength and held it down. The Grimm thrashed and screamed.
"Kill it!" Nix yelled; it took Jaune a few seconds to realize he was talking to him.
Jaune stepped forward, blade hanging at his side. He stared at the Grimm who just moments ago had been so close to killing him. Nix struggled to hold it down as it twisted and turned in hatred and rage.
"Don't hesitate!" Nix yelled again.
It was a monster, he had to kill it. He had killed Grimm before, and this was no different. It had almost killed him. He was determined. He was angry. He was scared. He was terrified.
'Don't hesitate!'
'Don't hesitate!'
He hesitated.
One of the other Wendigos tore forward and crashed onto Nixs back. The Hunter was forced to let go and tried to throw the other Grimm off. The leader struck its sharp claws upwards like a spear and tore straight under Nixs chest, his Aura buckled under the impact and the claws dug up through his muscle and flesh and out his back. The Hunter groaned in pain, blood spraying from his lips. The larger Grimm shrieked in what almost sounded like delight; it tried to pull its hand back out, but Nix gripped its wrist tightly with his own hand. The Grimm couldn't free itself and it roared in frustration.
Nix roared back with a cry of rage and pain. He reared back his left fist, gauntlet clicking and locking into place as fire consumed it. Nix hit with every last bit of Aura and strength he could muster. His fist ripped through the Grimms chest, and he pushed it up into the monster's lanky body, up through its ribs as bones shattered and broke. The Grimm whimpered and its chest glowed a bright red. Fire Dust swelled into a concentrated explosion that tore through the monster. Flames burst from its eyes and mouth. Its body shook in agony. The smell of burning flesh came back as the Grimm burned. It crumpled into ash seconds later. Nixs fist dropped to his side, a mutilated mess of charred muscle and melted metal.
Nix huffed for air and Jaune tried to reach for him.
"Stay back!" Nix said. He could see the others. The remaining Grimm hovered just out of reach, their red eyes unafraid. They were waiting to attack.
Nix raised his right fist into a fighting stance and Jaune stepped forward. He wouldn't make the same mistake again. He would fight with whatever he had left, or he would die. He wouldn't let someone get hurt again for his sake.
Nix looked at him. It was impossible to tell what the man was thinking.
"You'll die," he said.
"I won't let you down again, I want to help," Jaune said.
"I got no Aura left, and I'm down an arm. You'll just get in the way. Get going, I saw the flare, the others shouldn't be too far off."
"I won't run again,"
"You're in my way,"
"I'm not letting you fight them alone,"
"Even if they'll kill you?"
Jaune hesitated. He didn't want to die, but he was already so tired of running away. Nix sighed and Jaune looked at him, expecting the older man to finally relent. The Grimm sprinted forward, still so many of them against just the two of them.
"I knew you were nothing but trouble kid. We all knew it. But I'll be damned before you get killed out here," The Hunter looked at him square in the eyes. A faint smile showed on his bloodied face and Jaunes' vision faded black as Nix smacked him across the temple. Jaune felt his body being thrown, he felt the cold sting of the snow burn against his face as everything disappeared.
It was a few days before Jaune was fit to leave the infirmary. Several broken ribs, as well as a broken arm had kept him confined to bed rest. His Aura already healed the worst of the damage, although the bite made around his throat would leave a scar that would never fade.
They had found him near the destroyed jeep, curled into a tight ball and clinging desperately to life. His body had nearly frozen due to hypothermia. It had been only him in the sea of carnage.
There had been no other survivors.
No one talked to him as he walked through the camp. They shifted their eyes as he walked past, quiet murmurs amongst themselves as he went by. That was fine with him, he didn't want to talk to any of them either.
He walked past the food tent; the thought of food almost made him feel sick. He went past the small groups of men either eating or cleaning weapons. He walked past everyone, his body still ached, and his stitches were signing under the strain of his constant movement.
Jaune walked until he reached the edge of the camp. Crocea Mors hung loosely at his hip as he played with the hilt, debating whether to draw it or not.
The memories were playing again in his head, the regrets and emotions would always be there. They would join the memories of all the times before. He wanted to hit something, to lash out but he worried that if he drew his sword all of the uncontrolled emotions still bubbling up would pour out of him and he'd lose the small sliver of control he still had.
At the last minute he decided against it and with a deep breath he shoved the emotions down and headed back into camp.
He wasn't sure where he was going. August hadn't been in their shared tent, and Jaune made sure to avoid the larger groups of men clumped and scattered around. He was about to give up for the day before he heard Caspars gravely voice shout out from around the corner of a tent. Jaune silently made his way over, hesitant to make a sound lest the man notice him. As he had gotten older Jaune had become more aware of steering clear of Caspar without someone else nearby as a buffer. He overhead August's voice and against his better judgment he leaned closer, hidden behind the tent.
"I told you not to bring the kid." Caspar said, suddenly angry. "I told you he was bad luck."
"He's a kid, Caspar. He was a scared, broken boy clinging to a sword as he bled out. What was I supposed to do? Leave him?" August asked. There was no real emotion in his voice, just a simple lingering confusion.
"Yes!" Caspar exploded. "Do you have any idea how many we left that day? It was a fuckin massacre. Bodies littered the streets, there was blood and Grimm everywhere. It would have been a mercy, at least you could have let him stay with his family!"
"His family was dead!" August's voice suddenly took on a hint of anger. Jaune couldn't see his face, but the creak of the chair told that August had shifted. "I couldn't just leave him there. I couldn't just walk away as he clung to the last moments of life. I could have helped him; I did help him."
"He's not your kid." Caspar said and a silence came between the two men. Juane held his breath as the mood turned tense. Jaune's heartbeat in panic as he waited for August to speak.
"Careful now," It was a threat uttered from the darkest parts of August's soul. Jaune had never heard the man speak so angrily. "You're walking a fine line."
"Oh, fuck off," Caspar threw a bottle that shattered on the ground. He pressed ahead without hesitation. "No one can talk to you about it, you make a big show of never bringing up why you really took in that stupid brat. We all said it was a bad idea. We told you nothing would come of it. Now look at us, half the fuckin boys since then are dead or crippled. But so long as you get to play house and make believe with your replacement, well praise the Brothers you couldn't care less."
Something tumbled over and the sound of scraping boots was all Jaune could hear before the dull impact of skin on skin rang out. He heard grunting and cursing in the dark. He dared not move. He waited as the fight played out. He heard August muttering something low, someone gurgled in pain. Despite it all he kept himself tucked away.
"What's the fuckin problem?" He heard Caspar yell in broken, slurred words.
Something hit the ground near him, and it took all of Jaune's nerves to not lurch or move as August picked himself up. He caught sight of the man's back as he rose.
"You remember that day? Remember that city?" Caspar continued. August said nothing. "While you went off to play hero, we found the evacuation center. Blown half open by Grimm, by the time we got there something had ripped into all the people inside. Was a fucking nightmare. Bodies and blood everywhere. We couldn't find anyone, they tore open women and children, slaughtered them all. We couldn't find nobody, not a single fucking person made it through. No survivors, no Huntsmen, no nobody. Nobody but that stupid kid. He's a fucking curse. Everywhere he goes, people die."
"He's just a kid," August protested. "A scared, lonely kid. He didn't cause that invasion. He didn't deserve to die alone in the street as his home burned around him."
"You calling that a mercy you did him? It would have been better to just let him be with his family. Maybe then Nix wouldn't be gone, maybe then we wouldn't be next."
"You're talking a bunch of superstitious bullshit."
"Am I? The boys are all convinced he's got some kind of curse around him. He went and nearly got the Princess killed, he outlasted Nix, and we all know that he'll be the death of you. I'm not going to wait around for him to get to me too."
"Are you that scared of a child? After all you've done. The lives you've ruined, and the pain you've caused, you're telling me that he's what scares you?"
"You're damn right!" Caspar yelled.
"Why?" August demanded.
"Cause I know damn well that I'd do the same shit that went and got Nix killed," Caspar said. "I'd take that hit, I'd give my life, and he ain't worth it!"
"I don't understand…" August started.
"I see them, you know. I see the Grimm in my sleep. Every night they come for me. Every town we've tried to save, every village we couldn't reach in time. I see 'em all. They're just waiting for me, waiting for the day I finally go to join 'em. I dont want that, I don't wanna die. But, that kid is going to get me killed. And it'll be my own damn fault."
"I won't abandon him," August said.
"He's not your boy, he's not your kid, no matter what you try and pretend," Caspar said, and for a moment Jaune thought there would be another fight.
"I know that," August said. "But what am I supposed to do? When I found him, he looked just like my son. I thought for a moment the Brothers had given me another chance to do right. To save my little boy. I couldn't just leave him. I couldn't walk away, not when he was clinging to me. He was so small and so fragile. He kept on following me afterward and wouldn't leave my side. Brothers it hurts. It felt like I was being unfaithful. Like I just went and found a replacement for my own son, like I was just throwing away everything from before. He's a good kid, better than I ever deserved. I wanted to do right by him, to make up for all I did wrong. I keep failing though, he keeps going out and getting into more and more trouble. I can't help him; I can't save him. If I lose him, I don't think I'm coming back from that. I can't lose him Caspar; I'd rather burn down this entire camp before I ever did that."
"He's not yours," Capsar said.
"He is. I don't care if that makes me selfish, that kid is mine. Maybe not by blood but he's mine."
"Are you just tossing away your wife and kid?" Capsar asked. "Throwing away all that hurt so you can try and make it right with a newer one."
"Don't talk about my family," August said, there was a warning in his voice that drove a shiver of fear down Jaune's spine. "And while we're at it, don't come near the kid again."
"There it is," Caspar suddenly laughed. "Even now you can't say it can you?" As much as you go talkin about caring for him, you're terrified of even saying somethin' as simple as a name. It's always the kid, you've never said his name."
Jaune's heart froze. He tried in desperation to remember a time that August had actually said his name. A time where he had called out to him. All of the memories, the moments of warmth and love were suddenly tainted by the reality that August had never once said his name aloud.
"Caspar…" August trailed. "It's not that simple."
"What's not? It's just a name. Though, can't say I've ever said it either. What was it again? Arkos?"
"Arc, Jaune Arc." August said.
Hearing his name however only drove the wedge further into Jaune's breaking heart. It may have been easier to bear if August had simply forgotten it.
"Ah, that's it."
"Brothers, I've been such a fool," August said. "I care for him, Caspar, I do. I may even love him like he's my own. But even still there are some lines I can't overcome. Every time I see him, when he comes up to me with those bright, excited eyes, all I see are regrets and memories. I may be the real monster out here."
"Don't start getting depressed on us, you brought this on yourself," Caspar said with scorn.
"I lost them. My family. I lost them. It was back after I left the Atlas military. My wife was expecting, and she hated me being away for months at a time. So, I scraped together what I could and we left. There was a new village being established out past the city limits of Argus and there were postings for former military personnel being hired on as security. It seemed safe enough, close enough to larger cities and regions to ward off Grimm invasions, and I had the opportunity for a cushy job. It was nice for a while. My boy grew up, bright and excitable like his mother, and I felt good, content."
"But, it wasn't Grimm that was the real worry. It was Bandits. They came in the night and when I and the others went to fight them off at the city limits, a second group circled around. They burned and pillaged. I left my family at home. Told them there was no need to make it to the safety bunker because I would handle it. I lost them in the fire. Our home came crashing down on top of them. I saw him, Caspar. I saw my boy screaming and fighting under the wreckage. He was crying for me. He was so scared, and I lied and said I was coming to save him. But the flames were so high and hot that I couldn't get to him.
The others had to pull me back, and hold me down so I wouldn't get myself killed. I saw him die, reaching for me with that hopeful look in his eyes that daddy was going to make it alright, that daddy was coming back for him. I think…I think I died that night Caspar. I was angry and bitter. I drank and fought. I ended up here with you sorry sons of bitches and I thought I would die out here, alone. But then I saw him, I saw…Jaune…in that damned city. He looked just like my boy Caspar. He looked at me with those same scared eyes. What was I supposed to do?"
Caspar said something, but Jaune had stopped listening. The blood pounded in his ears as he remembered that night. The night he had died and was saved by a man he had come to see as more than just a mentor. Now it was clear that Caspar was right, and Jaune really was just a curse. A ghost lingering just on the outskirts of the camp. He wasn't one of them. He was just an obstacle, a liability that had killed Nix and would kill the rest in due time.
His feet guided him away from the warm glow of the fire, away from the comfort of a man who had taken him in out of pity and guilt. Jaune wandered into the darkness of the night. He eventually stopped just short of the camp's perimeter. He stared at the all-consuming blackness of the chilly, icy, terrain and drew Crocea Mors. The sharp metal glinted under the moonlight; a smear of dried dark blood stained the tip. Jaune took a shuddering breath and forced the emotions down that threatened to consume him.
'Don't hesitate.'
Those had been Nix's words. Jaune raised the blade high and swung into the empty air. He swung, ducked, and thrust as if fighting some unseen enemy. He buried the emotions deep down, under the ache in his muscles as he trained. He buried the feelings of betrayal under the satisfying sound of metal slicing through the air, and he braced his heart against the icy sting of an encroaching storm.
4 years ago
The last time Jaune had seen Kel Scipio, he had been tall and gaunt. An imposing man with a vicious attitude. He had nearly fractured Jaune's ribs in a fit of manic rage and threatened to have him beaten and killed.
Now, he looked half the man he was years ago. Time had been cruel. His handsome and lean face was now withered and sunken, like a skeleton clinging on to the last few patches of paper-thin skin. He hunched under some unseen weight and every few breaths were addled by vicious bursts of coughing. He looked like a man twice his age. Yet, despite the sickly, and frail appearance, his eyes remained as sharp and focused as ever.
Jaune hung back near the entrance of the tent as Jack and Kel's conversation grew ever terser. He turned to look at the sky, noticing the beginning signs of a storm brewing. They had been hired once more to clear out a small mining town that had been abandoned years ago. Nearly thirty miles clear of Argus the barren and rigid landscape was hardly ideal for stable living. Supply chain issues and constant Grimm attacks had destroyed the town, leaving its inhabitants either dead or scattered. It was supposed to be a simple search-and-destroy mission, a guarantee of an easy job. No one expected much Grimm activity this close to civilization.
First platoon had geared up and headed into the town at daybreak, which had been nearly six hours ago, and not a sound had been heard. No radio chatter, no signal flares, and no messengers. First platoon was gone; vanished without a trace.
There was shouting from inside the tent now. Jaune turned away and made his way back to his own. He would be part of the second force going into the town. He brushed open the cloth flap and nearly rammed straight into August's chest. Jaune had grown recently but even still August's massive, lumbering frame made him feel like a small child.
"Sorry," Jaune mumbled. He still found it hard to look August in the eyes ever since that night almost a year ago. The man clamped a comforting hand down on his shoulder and Jaune resisted the urge to pull away.
"Do you have everything ready? We leave in half an hour."
"Yeah, I'll be ready."
The silence that fell between them had become all too common. August cleared his throat.
"Before we go, could I talk to you for a minute? There's something I need to tell you." August played with something in his hands, a white unmarked envelope.
"Can't it wait?" Hesitation outweighed Jaunes' curiosity.
"I'd like to say it now," August stopped for a moment. "Maybe you should sit this one out. I have something I'd like you to read."
"Sit it out?" Jaune's temper flared. "You mean you don't want me to come?"
"Well, I don't, but it's not like that. I just think you should see-"
"There's no way! I'm not a kid! I have every right to go. I'm more than capable."
"I know that, but I don't want you in danger," August handed Jaune the envelope. In frustration Jaune slapped it away.
"I'm not the same kid I was when you found me. And I'm not the same one who got Nix killed. I'm stronger."
" I know, it's just that-"
"Just what? You're not my dad. I'm not your kid, I'm not some curse. I'm me, and I want to go. You can't stop me."
Hurt and anger flared across August's face, but he crushed them with a sigh of resignation. "You want to be a Hero, right? That's always been your dream, hasn't it?"
August handed the envelope back to Jaune. Ripping it from the man's callous hand Jaune flung it away. "What is it? Are you trying to send me away? To get rid of me? If that's the case, then just say it!"
August started to say something, words dying on his lips, and he struggled to find the words.
"Is this a bad time?" A soft feminine voice eased in between them.
Time had been far more kind to Lucia Scipio than her father. She had grown taller; her long black hair had grown past her lower back and her pretty face was scrunched in uncertainty. It was hard for Jaune to forget the bright green of her eyes, though he didn't remember her looking quite so skittish before. She wore a long bluish winter gown, covered by a top-heavy winter coat that draped over her thin frame.
August hesitated, looking down at the envelope in his hands and then back to Jaune. He ran a hand through his unkempt beard before stepping back into the tent and gently setting the small package on Jaunes cot.
"No, not at all," August said. He turned to Jaune. "We'll talk later. I'll see you at the staging area."
Jaune gave a half-hearted shrug. Lucia stepped closer as August's large frame retreated into the sea of tents and other men.
"Did I come at a bad time?" She asked.
"No, it's nothing,"
"Family disputes can be nasty things."
Jaune shook his head. They weren't family, that had been made clear enough. As much as it hurt his heart it was something he was forcing himself to come to terms with.
"Is there something you need from me, your royal highness?"
Lucia's hesitation and concern dropped in a heartbeat, replaced with a deep frown. "How rude! You have no manners, you boor."
"Last time we saw each other, it ended with my ribs nearly caving in." He meant it as a joke but the look of guilt that flashed across her face made him regret his words almost immediately.
His apology was cut short by a shake of her head.
"I never got to thank you for saving my life. Everything happened so quickly once we returned, and by the time you were finally out of the infirmary everything had spiraled out of control." She spoke.
Jaune ran a hand through his hair. "It was nothing, besides you saved my ass too. You were pretty awesome out there. I didn't expect you to face a Grimm head on like that."
Lucia smiled. "A proper lady should be well versed in all types of matters."
She was hesitating, something was different about her today and Jaune couldn't place it. She was acting less like the bold if somewhat coy girl he had known her when they had first met. She shifted from foot to foot, hands playing at the sides of her dress, as she bunched the cloth in her fingers.
"Have you ever considered what you wanted to do after this?" She asked suddenly.
"After this?"
"After your time in this camp I mean. Surely you haven't thought to spend your entire life here in this place, traveling from place to place, no more than a meager mercenary for hire. Haven't you thought about what you'll do as an adult?"
"No," He hadn't. The thought never even occurred to him. He had grown used to the constant movement , He had grown used to being told when and where to go. He had no friends at the camp, that was true, but he had August. Even if his feelings regarding the man were confusing at the moment, Jaune was content to stay by the man. Besides, he had nowhere to go. The camp was the only life he had known. He had a basic education courtesy of August and some decent training with hunting Grimm, but he was well below average of most others around him, and he had no real money or ability to apply for a Huntsman school. Jaune had become comfortable where he was.
"What about your dream to be a Hero? You can't make that come true while you waste away in some nameless corner of the world, now, can you?" Lucia asked.
"Maybe dreams aren't meant to become real," He could still smell the burning flesh of Nix's arm, the smell of rotting corpses hanging from the rafters, and the screams of a burning city as he ran in terror.
Lucia looked at him for a moment before the tip of her boot smashed into his shin, he recoiled in pain.
"What was that for?" He asked.
"Stop being a baby, where's that boy who talked about saving others, protecting people?"
"I can't save anyone!" The anger bubbled in his chest, the familiar warmth spreading out, urging, begging him to lash out.
"Why not? You saved me."
He had nothing to say, he wanted to call it a fluke, pure chance, but the sudden Grimm look in her eyes stopped him. He had saved her, and she wouldn't stand to hear him say otherwise.
"What do you want, Princess?" He felt like a child again, reverting back to name-calling because he couldn't win the argument.
Her frustration vanished again and was replaced once more with the nervousness from before. "I came to offer you a chance to fulfill your dream?"
Jaune waited for her to clarify, Lucia coughed into her gloved hand before continuing. "As it happens, I am suddenly in need of extra security, one of Daddy's main guards has been selected to join the Atlas Ace Ops, and with recent Grimm activity and the rise of White Fang attacks around Atlas more Huntsman are being pulled back into Atlas military service. It seems I may be in need of new guards when I start going to Atlas Academy next year."
Jaune had an idea of where this was going, but a small part of him took a weird satisfaction in the usual poised and condescending girl stumbling around her point.
My security will have to be trained of course, with special lessons and all that. And they would have to be at my beck and call. It's hard to find good help these days, and trust is important. So perhaps..."
"Yes?" Jaune prodded, and Lucia flushed.
"I would like for you to join my security. I'm only asking because I think you have some potential, it's not a personal request so don't think too deeply about it. I'm simply trying to find the best candidates."
"You want me to come with you to Atlas?" The offer alone sounded like some kind of absurd dream. He was a nobody, a small, orphaned boy from a city that was no longer excited. Atlas may very well have been a story from one of the fairy tales his mother read to him as a child. The flying city, the bastion of mankind's ingenuity and innovation.
"At the very least, yes, we would leave this evening. Father has his reservations about it, but I promise you won't have to deal with him."
The fantasy came crashing down. "Tonight? But I have to go, the mission."
Lucia pouted, "I'm offering you a once-in-a-lifetime chance, can't you just push the mission off? I'm sure they have enough men. Besides, Daddy is a bit agitated these days, he plans to leave as soon as possible."
"I can't just leave so suddenly. I have people here I care about, I can't just up and leave them."
"Wasn't it just your caretaker? I thought you said no one else cares about you here, they called you a curse, didn't they?"
"Well yeah, but I can't just leave August like that, and I can't just walk away. Can't this wait? At least until I get back. I owe it to everyone here to go, I won't just abandon them all."
Lucia looked at him, her green eyes stared into him, as if trying to solve some complex puzzle. "Do you have to go?"
"Yeah, I do." He wouldn't abandon August, he couldn't.
"Very well, I can wait for an answer until this evening," She sighed. She then paused for a moment, mulling over her words carefully, "You'll come back, won't you?"
Jaune gave her a small smile as he shouldered his pack, and strapped Crocea Mors securely to his side. He gently pushed his fist against her shoulder, "I always do."
He left her there, standing in the open flap of his tent along with the unopened letter from August. He would read it when he got back, just as he would finally make a decision. Before that, though he had something to do, he needed to talk to August, and he had a mission to complete.
The town in question was larger than any of the others Jaune had seen in his time with the camp. It was a Dust mining camp nearer the upper coast of the Continent of Anima. Thick snow made travel by vehicle dangerous, slick roads and foggy vision made most journeys nearly impossible. Uneven and rocky terrain forced the caravans of men to dismount and make the rest of the way on foot. It was poor conditions for settlement, but when there was Dust involved there were few prices men weren't willing to pay for profit.
The mining town Juane had seen before with Nix was small, only meant for temporary living as basic excavations were conducted in an effort to scale the amount of Dust that could be extracted from the region. This town however was older, a fully functioning town that had been manned by Atlas military for the sake of mining as much Dust from the area. It was clusters of old wooden buildings scattered in unorganized blacks. The town was only added on as it was forced to shelter more and more laborers. Rusted over military vehicles littered between buildings and mining equipment and machines lay turned over in charred ruins.
Jaune stepped over the tattered flag of Atlas, a silver spear inside a metallic clock gear, a Faunus revolt had ended in the mass slaughtering of the villagers and the military personnel. An unforeseen blizzard had stopped extra military from making their way into the town and trapped the residents and survivors. First platoon had reported no survivors before they went missing.
There had been no chance to talk with August as they made their way to the town. Dismounting from the vehicles had forced Jaune to focus more on his own safety and distracted him from the sudden proposal Lucia had given him. He pushed forward against the icy wind that pelted against his body. His hands were numb despite his gloves, and he was worried he would lose sight of the men in front of him.
They eventually found shelter in the rickety remains of an outpost tower outside the town's outer limits. They had separated into three separate groups; the first two would make their way around the town and enter from the East and West, Jaune and his group led by August would enter from the south, clearing out any opposition. They would convene in front of the mine itself and enter as a combined force. They would pick up any survivors as they made their way through the town.
Jaune stepped closer to August as they entered the town, the rifle in his hands was loaded and heavy in his numbed hands.
"Can we talk?" Jaune asked.
"Not now, focus," August's voice was tight and his tone curt.
"It can't wait," Jaune thought he saw something move between two old wooden buildings in the snow, but by the time he raised his rifle to double check there was nothing there.
"We can talk back at the camp." August said and Jaune bit back a groan.
"Lucia offered me a job in Atlas," Direct was the best way to deal with August. The man stopped for a moment, Jaune couldn't see his face behind the cloth mask covering face but he knew his words had their desired effect.
"Did she now?" August said. "Are you thinking about taking it?"
"Well, I wanted to talk with you about it." Jaune said. August acted as a guard as he kicked open a rotting wooden door to one of the buildings, Jaune peered inside. Nothing but dusty, tattered furniture and broken glass greeted him. "Clear."
"It's your choice, you've come a long way from the runt you were. Chances like this don't come around to most people."
"Are you saying I should take it?" Jaune asked.
"My opinions shouldn't matter here."
"But they do, you were Atlas military, weren't you?" The outer limits were clear from Grimm, but they hadn't found anyone from the first platoon, no bodies, or signs of combat. It was like the town was a perfect picture of serenity despite the howling winds roaring between the buildings.
"That was a long time ago, I was a different man then. You should do what you want to do."
"I want," Jaune ground out in frustration. "To stay with you, I want to repay you for everything you've done. But for some reason it feels like you're pushing me away."
"I…" August hesitated. "I want you to have more than this. To leave all of this behind you. I want you to be a kid, to follow that crazy dream of yours. You're more than this, you're so much more than all of this."
"I'm not a child anymore, I'm not that same scared kid crying as his town burned. I'm stronger now."
"You're bigger, it's not the same. Don't waste yourself with this place, don't throw your life away for my sake. Travel, see the world, don't wander from one fight to another."
"I don't want to leave you." How could he, Jaune owed him everything.
"You don't owe me your life, it's yours, and the greatest thing you could do for me is to live it. Far away from here, and from me."
The phrase made Juane stop cold. What did he mean? Far away from him would be the best? Was he calling Jaune a curse, just like everyone else? Would it be better for everyone if he left?
August seemed to recognize what he said, and he turned to face Jaune, placing that familiar heavy hand on his shoulder. "I didn't mean it like that, I don't want you to go, but I know you could be so much more. Don't waste yourself here, with an old relic like me, when you have a chance to do so much more."
"What if I don't want more?" Jaune asked.
"It's not worth it to stay here. Ever since I found you, you've been going on about being a great big hero. Fighting off monsters and saving the day. I want you to follow that dream of yours, for as long and as far as you can."
"I can't…" Jaune hesitated, the words were as heavy as lead in his mouth. A complete rejection of everything he had ever dreamed and wanted. The smell of burning and rotting flesh clogged his nose, and the memories of fire burned as brightly as they had all those years ago. "I can't be a hero.
August sighed, turning to look at him. Kneeling down he tried to give a reassuring smile. "Nix wasn't your fault. He went out like he lived, he did what he wanted till the end, you can't shoulder all that blame."
Jaune wanted to say something, anything, but something else caught his attention. It was by the corner of a building, a sharp contrast against the pure snow surrounding them.
"Blood."
August tilted his head in confusion until Jaune pointed towards the small puddle of red soaked snow. The two hurried over and crouched down. August eyed it wearily. He nodded towards the half open door of the house they were in front of. Jaune nodded in confirmation and stepped closer to the door. With August behind him he threw open the door, rifle at the ready. The dusty ruins of the building were just like the one from before, shattered and broken furniture lay across the one roomed building. A black shape lay keeled over in the corner of the room, a Grimm.
"Contact," Jaune shouted loud enough for August to hear. He fired a short burst of round into the creatures still form. It made no movement. Blood pooled out of it, staining the floor a deep crimson. Jaune squinted in confusion. Grimm didn't bleed, they simply burst into dust when they died. He stepped closer to the body, something else wasn't right. He couldn't be sure but the figure itself was blurry and unfocused. He couldn't tell if it looked more like a Beowulf or a small Ursa. He prodded the figure with the tip of his rifle, but it remained still.
He was about to call out to August before the sound of gunfire roared through the town.
"Grimm spotted!" Someone called out.
Jaune was out of the building in seconds. Gunfire roared from all directions as August pulled him away from the door and around the side of the building. He could hear men screaming in pain, and the gunfire continued. August tried his radio but only static could be heard buzzing through the device.
August turned to the others clustered in their own small groups, he grabbed the light he hung around his neck and flashed a signal. He turned back to Jaune.
"I'll take a group and push around the side; you and the others will wait until the flare signal moves up and meets us. We'll try and rendezvous with the others and coordinate what's happening. Stay put until then." With that he was up and off, his large frame surprisingly quick as he sprinted from their cover and across the gap in between the buildings. Jaune could see him group up with some of the other men and disappear around the side of another building.
Jaune peered his head around the side of the building, trying to catch sight of the fighting. All he heard was the sound of gunfire and screaming somewhere far off. He couldn't hear the snarls or roars of the Grimm.
As he waited, his heartbeat in his ears, he could remember the last time he had been in a situation like this. It had ended in a massacre, but he was ready this time. He had August, he was stronger now. Something crawled up his sleeve, he looked down to see a spider working its way up his jacket. He flicked it away with his gloved hands and as it floundered in the snow, he crushed it under his boot. His distraction cost him precious time as a blurry shape came up from behind.
Grimm.
It was strange, the blurry shape stared at him for a long moment, neither he nor it moved for what couldn't have been more than a few seconds. Red angry eyes met startled blue. They both moved at the same time, the Grimm rushed forward ready to tear out his throat. Jaune was already firing his rifle into the creature's open chest. Blood splattered his face as the Grimm went crashing backwards into the snow. Blood drained from its lifeless corpse and the red eyes faded in death. Jaune took a moment to collect himself, adrenaline pumping through his veins.
He heard shouting behind him, the shooting turned into screams, and screams into gunfire. He had to move; his foot kicked something hard as he readied himself to run. It was a knife, a simple blade in the snow. It wasn't his and it wasn't August's, he picked it up and tucked it into his belt before he dashed away from the Grimms corpse.
He kept to the buildings, wanting to avoid any stray bullets. The others had scattered, broken away from formation. Jaune couldn't find anyone, only Grimm. Dead Grimm littered the ground at every turn. Some in pairs, most alone. They were unlike any Jaune had ever seen, more like furry, undetailed bodies. They laid still and unmoving as he passed, perhaps it was a new kind of mutation up in the far north, but he had no time to think about it.
The flare still hadn't gone off, even though the sound of fighting had turned into small sporadic bursts. August had told him to stay put, but that had been before his team had vanished. Now Jaune searched for anyone at all. He had made his way through the outer building of the town, avoiding the center as best he could. He had nearly made a full half circle of the perimeter from where they had entered, nearing the mine itself. He should have run into someone by now.
He considered cutting into the center, signaling his own flare, and staging a distress call from there. It wouldn't do much good in the weather. The thick snowfall would make any flare impossible to see from base camp and he had no radio to call for help. There was a watchtower in the center of the town, high up enough that maybe he could get a flare to be seen.
He had barely made it halfway, cutting straight through the center of town before a Grimm lunged at him from the shadows of a building. It smashed its shapeless, shadowy fist against his face. Aura soaked the hit, and he struggled under the creature's weight as it straddled him, its paw turned a fine point, almost like a knife and plunged towards his throat. Jaune caught its wrist and with Aura's enhanced strength forced it away. He hit between the eyes and forced his foot up far enough to kick the Grimm away. As the creature stumbled Jaune raised his rifle. The Grimm grabbed it and threw it to the side. As it came back for him, Jaune drew his sword and with a cry shoved it through the monster's stomach, twisting it in. The Grimm shuddered and fell limp against him. It whimpered in an unintelligible language before it dropped dead at his feet.
Blood soaked on the front of his jacket. He had no time to process, more Grimm made their way from in between the buildings. They hesitated. He watched a pair of the black shapes fight amongst themselves, clawing and hitting at one another. Jaune ran before they could come for him.
He had lost his rifle in the fight against the Grimm, so in exchange, he gripped his sword tight and expanded his shield. He ran straight through the center of town. Bodies of dead Grimm littered the open area, blood tasting the snow into a sea of icy red. He maneuvered himself around the bodies. The old rickety watchtower came closer and closer. The shabby wood structure had a single layer leading upwards and as he reached up for the first rung of the broken ladder a hissing sound stopped him dead in his tracks. He looked up in time to avoid a spray of green fluid raining down from above. He stumbled back and tripped over the half-melted body of a Grimm.
He rolled to his feet as a spider dropped from the top of the tower. It was large. Nearly the size of a child, its eight red eyes glared up at him, it let out a low, wet, purring sound that scraped against his ears. Bony armor tinted with red symbols lined its underside. And abdomen. Long legs shifted in the snow. It darted forward, its furry legs dancing through the snow. Jaune barely raised his shield before the creature was on him.
The shield held it off of him, pushing back against the opposing weight. Its head smothered above the edge of his shield, and he could see its small, narrow mouth swell. He bucked his hips and sent the Grimm rolling off of him with a kick before the venom sprayed from its mouth once more.
A thin webbing shot from its abdomen as it fell, sticking to his shield, and with a surprising amount of force it pulled Jaune off of his feet, sprawling face-first in the snow. As he got to his feet and readied a swing at the Grimm as it scuttled towards him again, another webbing splattered across his sword's blade, and it was pulled from his grip. Another spider-like Grimm had appeared, descending down from the roof of a house. The first Grimm rammed into him at full force and sent him back into the snow.
He tried to rise again, only this time there were more. Dozens, maybe even hundreds of smaller spiders scuttled under his feet. They broke from under the snow, they crawled from the inside of corpses, and an army of insects had emerged all around him. He kicked and stomped, all in vain. They climbed up his legs and tried to peirce at his exposed flesh. His Aura stopped them just short of tearing him apart. The more he struggled, the more he flashed the more they seemed to become excited. They were under his clothes, on his face, their furry, and small bodies bit and tore at him. There was nowhere to hide. He fell into the snow, screaming and clawing as they tried to kill him. His Aura wouldn't last forever. It would fade sooner or later and then nothing could stop them.
His hand brushed against his flare gun. A single shot he meant to use to call for help. Instead, he gripped it in his hand, smacking the spiders that tried to climb over it. He had to shield his eyes with his other arm, he pressed the flare into his jacket, and with a cry of frustration, he pulled the trigger.
The bright green fire spread over him, quickly turning into a roaring flame as his jacket caught fire, engulfing his body. The screaming of the spiders was matched only by his own cries. His Aura stopped him from burning, but the heat was nearly enough to kill him. As the spider burned Jaune surged to his feet, ripped his jacket free and used it as a weapon to smash against any other Grimm that came close. His body burned in an unbearable inferno, the flames engulfed his entire world, his lungs burned as the air fueled his pyre.
Jaune threw himself into the snow, desperate to stop the burning. The icy chill against the agony of burning sent a shock through his body, seizing his muscles, and stopping his breath outright. It was animal instinct that forced him forward, running against the sudden chill as the flames were replaced with mind-numbing coldness. He ran away as the spiders gave chase. He ran forward, his mind a sudden haze of emotions and fear.
He saw the making of an opening in the cliffside that ran against the Northern side of the town, the mine. He had no other options, he plunged straight into total blackness. The wooden frames holding up the interior of the mine were barely visible through the snow and as he dived straight past them the unmaintained mine shift was a river of endless darkness. He stumbled and cursed his way through it. His numb and unresponsive fingers couldn't manage to unhook his flashlight from his pack, he barely managed to turn it on in his frenzy, the swaying light illuminating only what was below him.
The darkness seemed to stretch time itself. Jaune wasn't sure how far he went, his body fighting him at every turn as it tried to process the sudden shift in temperature. He knew that if he stopped, it was unlikely he would be able to get back up.
The frantic thumping of his heart in his chest made breathing hard in the stuffy, stale air. Jaune tried to feel his way along the side of the cavern in an attempt to orient himself.
Ahead in the darkness, he could see something glowing. The tunnel turned slightly and Jaune stepped out into a wider cave.
Unrefined, raw dust was unstable, soaked into the earth itself, trailing like veins throughout the body of the cave. Dust in this form was unstable, prone to combustion if handled wrongly, a single spark could cause a chain explosion that would tear apart the mountain itself. It was also toxic without the proper gear. However, it also offered a warmth, a faint collective heat that suffused the air and made it a proper barrier against Jaune's shivering body.
It also made it ideal for a Grimm's nest.
It was hard to count how many bodies were hung from the ceiling, strung upside down, and encased in webbing. It was nearly impossible to count the endless number of spiders that scuttled across the walls and ceiling. Larger ones tucked themselves away in small pockets of earth, burrowing in their warmth. The smaller ones scurried about, aiding in the concocting of fresher prey. Jaune watched the limp bodies of the men he had come there as they were dragged forward and strung up; their bodies littered with bullet holes. Those who still clung to life were encased first and injected with the spider's venom, they thrashed weakly in their bindings as their muscles seized and convulsed. Jaune wanted to throw up, to scream, and run. But his weakened body simply collapsed to his knees in shock.
First Platoon hadn't vanished, it had been slaughtered. It had killed itself and the Grimm had taken the corpses for their own nest. Did that mean those bodies out in the snow hadn't been Grimm? Did that mean Jaune had killed people? He looked down at the blood-stained hands, he shuddered and vomited.
The Grimm carried on with their tasks, collecting and preparing the mound bodies they had collected. Jaune watched as the larger spider Grimm dragged a body further into the cave, a trail of smeared blood following after. It carefully wrapped its webbing around the body, throwing it over slowly with its legs as the smaller spiders worked their way around it, filling in the gaps with their own webs. The fresher corpses dripped blood onto the cavern floor.
The older ones had long since withered and dried, small glistening pods littered across them. They throbbed and pulsed like gentle steady heartbeats.
Grimm couldn't mate, they couldn't give birth, but those were unmistakably egg sacs. Was the whole nest a staging area for Grimm eggs? But that wouldn't explain the carnage, why would they need bodies? What kind of pack leader or Alpha would make them act like this? What could possibly have made those sacs?
Jaune watched idly as a small spider pulled at his charred pants, trying to pull him toward its brethren. He crushed it with his fist almost absent-mindedly. It squealed in the throes of death and Jaune realized all too late he had made a mistake.
Tens of thousands of red eyes settled on him. He could feel their malice, their rage and hatred. He knelt there, alone and shivering. Fear settled into his heart and with every piece of his soul screaming at him he mustered the strength to flee. He jolted to his feet and turned.
He ran straight into the warm embrace of his mother.
It was a gentle, warm hug. The kind he remembered well from his childhood. Her long blonde hair trailed down her face from a messy ponytail. It tickled at his cheek, and he caught the familiar scent of lavender. He looked up into her warm blue eyes. A soft giggle was all it took for him to lean into her, his hands wrapped gently around her waist, and he buried his head away from the terror behind him. Just like that, he was a child again, the tears fell from his eyes freely. She stroked his head gently; soft murmurs waded into his ears and lulled him further into the safety of her arms. He could feel something prodding at his neck, pushing against his Aura but he didn't care.
All that mattered was her warmth, her being there. It had been years since he had seen her, yet she hadn't changed. Yet for as much as he craved her touch, something wasn't right. His mother was a talkative woman, she always loved to sing to him and his sisters. She would always lull them to sleep with old lullabies and songs. But now she was weirdly silent.
His mind was a bit foggy; he was forgetting something. He wanted to simply lean into her and forget, but the burning feeling at the back of his mind wouldn't let him go.
'Burning?'
Was something burning? His mother had been burning.
'Jaune, find your father!' She shouted.
I won't leave you! We can evacuate together. He'll find us.' Jaune protested.
She had said something else, but he couldn't quite remember. The house was creaking, he had been too stunned to move as his mother pushed him out of the doorway, a brief look of terror permanently etched onto her face as the roof caved in.
'I'm sorry'
It had killed her outright and trapped his sisters inside. He had tried to dig them out, to save them. But the fire had grown too large and as they lay screaming and dying he could only stare into his mother's lifeless blue eyes. The same eyes that haunted him as he ran away, ran to find his father. Those eyes were nothing like the ones staring down at him now.
This wasn't his mother.
It was like waking from a dream, a faint uncertainty between reality and fiction. His vision was blurry, and he forced himself to blink, trying to clear everything away.
Warm blue eyes were replaced with deep gold.
His hands dug into short clumpy fur. The Grimms pedipalps prodded against his neck, gently crushing his aura as its ugly mouth let out gentle purrs of comfort. He could see the trail of mucus run down its face as it nestled its misshapen, bony head against his own.
He felt the pull of its mind against his, its ugly mutated face flashed back to that of his mother as the pressure around his neck became harder and harder. His Aura strained and he tried to pull away, but it's two long front arachnid legs pulled him closer. His mind singed at the distortion in his reality. He mothers face flashed before him, kind and vibrant only to blend into the pressing memory of her lifeless eyes staring into his own.
The creature's hairy body shifted as it tried to force him down, trying to stop his resistance. He could feel its thoughts invade his mind, tugging and tearing at his psyche as it tried to suppress his raging emotions.
"Ch.. Children…." It creaked out, a long drawl of syllables only barely mimicking that of a human. It sent a shiver down Jaunes spine, and he tried to push the creature away, his Aura crackled as the monster tried to pierce into his neck.
He thrashed in its wet, hairy embrace, crying out in fear and frustration. The image shifted to that August, his sisters, his father, Lucia. Its shape changed to try and match his raging emotions. The smaller spiders were crawling up his legs, under his pants, against his skin, each trying to help their leader.
As he stared into his captors' soulless golden eyes his Aura finally fractured and burst away around him. Its fangs sunk into his neck. He let out a scream of pain as his memories flashed.
His mother's burning corpse, his sister's screams as he ran away, the despair etched on Lucia's face as the Grimm tore into her, the final moments of consciousness as Nix fought to save his life. His failures, his weakness, his cowardice.
He remembered August's warm smile as he cradled him in the ruins of his home and the warmth that flooded through him.
He died. In those brief few moments of consciousness as the monster's fangs bit into his flesh Jaune Arc died, and from his warm corpse, something else took over. The rage, and fear, all of his negative emotions bubbled forth taking over his consciousness and his heart. The last flickering embers of Aura came alive once more.
The monster purred softly as his body relaxed, the poison sinking in. It wasn't prepared for the violent fist that surged forward with Aura-enhanced strength and smashed through one of its eyes. As it recoiled the boy ripped away its fangs and sent a violent kick towards its head that pushed it back.
The monster screamed in rage, its children echoing its cry in a deafening chorus of high-pitched wailing. The boy moved, faster than should have been possible. One of its children bit into his arm, drawing a stream of blood, he merely raised his arm while the child pumped its venom and smashed it against the hard rocky wall. Another leaped for the boys' head, he grabbed it by the fangs and tore it apart. The boy's bright blue eyes had dulled, no signs of the fear from before, all that remained was the lingering, fleeting feelings of rage. It swam around the air, pungent, like a thick fog of negativity that blinded the monster and its children, drawing them in the intoxication of such ripened emotion.
The monster pushed forward, ramming into the boy, shoving his body back into the cavern wall. No more of its children would be killed by the invader. It raised a leg high up, the razor-fine point slicing down in an Arc, the boy dodged to the side, the claw slicing through the hard stone. He stomped his foot down on another of her children, gripped a second by the webbing it shot towards his head, and swung it violently into the wall, exploding it into a fine mist of ashen dust.
The monster raged, thrashing and crying. Its children were slaughtered indiscriminately. It would not stand for it. It had to protect the young lines, those not yet hatched. They had to be protected at all costs.
It charged the boy again, a knife-like leg Stabbing into its shoulder, hot venom gurgled in its throat, and acidic fluid shot from its mouth, seeking now to eliminate the threat. The boy pushed forward, sliding the monster's leg further into his shoulder and out the back. It made enough room to duck its head low. The acid melted the stone wall behind the boy. It gripped the monster's knife-like leg in its small hands, cutting into soft flesh. The boy pulled the leg out of his shoulder with impossible strength, gripped a knife from his side, and lunged straight towards the monster's head.
Jaunes Aura dispersed. Like shattering glass, it broke apart around him, and in a flush of pain, his mind and body came back. He stumbled over his feet and crashed into the ground. He coughed and hacked as the poison in his body finally started to take effect. He didn't know where he was, or why he was suddenly in so much pain. Blood oozed freely from his shoulder, and he struggled to his knees. The monster was still there, glaring at him in a fit of rage. His muscles cramped from the strain and his head swam from exhaustion.
The large, unnatural shape of the monster distorted itself, blurring into something else. Jaune shut his eyes and tried to focus, the pain in his arms and neck was paralyzing and he felt the poison weakening him. The monster smashed a leg into his side, and Jaune went careening back towards the entrance of the blackened cave. Blood spilled from his mouth and his side flamed in agony, the hit had taken at least a few ribs. His right hand gripped tightly to the knife he had found earlier; he couldn't remember when he drew it. In fact, up until a few moments ago, he couldn't remember much of anything at all. He rose to his feet with a struggle, supporting his weight against the wall.
The monster's golden eyes lingered in the darkness, blazing brightly. Thousands more peered at him, hot red, waiting just out of sight, hungry and ready. He could hear them scuttle around, clicking and purring in anticipation. The warm, steady light emanated from a single vein of red Dust. It glowed dimly, pulsating in the dark as the creature approached. A single beacon in the encroaching night. A single spark.
Dust was volatile. Unrefined and raw it was liable to huge damages if handled incorrectly. It was the single most coveted and dangerous resource on the planet. And mining was also the single most dangerous occupation to have on Remnant. A single spark could set the entire cave alight, and burn everyone and everything inside to ash.
'I'm sorry.'
Jaune stared straight into the creature's golden eyes as it approached. He raised the trembling knife high above his head, and as the Monster lunged for his throat, he struck down against the vein of Dust.
A single spark. The monster drove the air from his lungs, cracked his remaining ribs, and hurled him back towards the entrance. Its fangs bit into his side, and they tumbled over each other. Behind them, the spark created by the impact of metal on stone erupted violently into a symphony of heat and death. The cave came alight with a hot flame that blazed backward. A roaring flame shook the earth, shattered the mountain, and consumed everything in its way. The single vein of Dust burned instantly creating a chain reaction as the blast met with other veins. Fire, electricity, earth, ice, and fire exploded in a rush of heat and power. The cavern shattered, debris and rocks raining down as the sea of powers surging from the Dust exterminated everything in its path. Corpses, Grimm, and all remaining life died in an instant as the flames of damnation itself consumed everything. The monster and Jaune were flung forward by the burst of the explosion, Jaune's ears rang, and he lost complete awareness of his surroundings the monster took the brunt of the damage, its fur caught afire, and it screeched in pain. Its nest, its pack, and its eggs all burned behind it as the flames consumed its large frame. Electricity raced across its body and its abdomen nearly caved in from the force of the blast.
They hit the ground and flung apart, Jaune went tumbling head over foot as the shockwave carried his limp body soaring through the air. His small, broken form rag dolled in the wind as he was thrown from the cave opening and back out into the frigid air of the town. Fiery rock and debris rained from the entrance, crashing into the wooden town, and setting the buildings on fire. Like a volcano, heat and death erupted out of the mine. The monster screamed in agony as it tried to flee from the opening, rocks tumbling down from the entrance and crushing it as the hillside itself cracked and broke apart.
Jaune breathed in the frigid snow as he hacked and gasped for air. His jacket singed his back, embers burned into his flesh. He blacked out, for how long he couldn't be sure. He remembered waking in a fit of coughing, ashen snow raining down from high above. He couldn't see, his vision tainted black and eyes watering from the thick smog choking the air. His body was sluggish, searing hot, boiling under the skin as his fingers stiffened and froze. He crawled forward, more out of desperation to run away than anything.
He dragged himself as far from the mine as he could, as far away from the nightmare as possible. He reached his hand out, desperation taking hold, wanting nothing more than to lay down and rest, to give up. His hand brushed against something metallic and hard. He gripped it in his frozen hand and felt the familiarity warm his battered heart. He pulled Crocea Mors into his chest. Jaune relished the familiar weight of the weapon, it was a sudden anchor in the sea of destruction and death all around him.
It was all the more real when the familiarity and warmth chilled over and the soft purring of death itself clawed its way back into his mind. He glanced up into the bright golden eyes of the monster. Its all-black shape contrasted against the snow and fire around them. Its white armor reflected the flames, and it stood still, slow deliberate breaths as it pondered him with interest. It took a step forward and he recoiled. Fear flooded into him, and his broken body was up on its feet in a heartbeat. He gripped his blade in both hands, muscles straining at the weight.
The creature eased forward, almost cautiously. It clicked something at him and Jaune waited. He waited for the monster to come closer. Jaune knew he only had enough strength left for one more attack, if he wasted it then death would be inevitable. He waited until it eased itself within a few feet, he could hear it squeal and purr in low tones. Jaune bit down the pain and fear and as it moved those final few feet he lunged forward. Blade low he tried it into just under the creature's neck. Blood splurged out from the wound and drenched his hands, the blade slipped from his grasp as the monster stumbled back a short cry of anguish erupted from its throat. Jaune stood as it collapsed into the snow, shrieking in pain.
He looked down at it, huffing in large gasps of smoky air. The creature didn't stay down though. It rose back up, blade still firmly twisted in its neck, and it reached out a long, sharp leg towards him. Jaune couldn't move, he had lost all remaining strength. All he could do was wait for the final blow. He flinched as the creature's arm made contact with his unwounded shoulder.
The illusion faded.
August's firm hand clasped weakly against Jaunes' shoulder. The man's beard was smeared with blood and mud. He gasped in long ragged breaths as he stared kindly into Jaunes' eyes.
The blade had torn through August's stomach and out his back. Blood dripped down Crocea Mor's handle and into the pure white snow, pooling together in a red puddle.
"Hey there kiddo," August said.
Jaune wanted to scream, to cry, to laugh, to run away. His breathing was hard, small, choked sobs. He hyperventilated as the reality of what he had done sunk in. He stared down at the handle of his blade, then back into August's face. He couldn't think, he couldn't breathe. Tears streamed down his face and a strangled, ugly scream worked itself from the depths of his shattering soul.
August stumbled down to his knees. Jaune, in a panic, struggled with his first aid pack on his belt. Frozen bloodied fingers unable to open the leather pouch in increasingly frantic hysteria. August caught him, his large, gloved hands cradling small shivering ones. A gentle hand rested against Jaunes face and August spoke softly.
"Hey, listen. Just calm down. You're alright."
"I…I'm sorry…. I didn't…I wouldn't…I thought…"
"Shh…you're OK. Hey, now look at me. This isn't your fault." August's voice was strained, and Jaune could see the strain behind his eyes as he forced the words out.
"Don't blame yourself."
"Help…we have to get help…" Jaune said, breaking from his daze he tried to pull away. To run and find anyone he could. If they could find someone, anyone then this could be fixed.
August pulled him back with surprising strength, wrapped a large burly arm around him in an awkward hug and pulled him close.
"Listen to me for once. This isn't your fault. You're not a curse. You're alright, and that's all I care about. When you get out of here, and you will cause you're the toughest son of a bitch I know, you're going to move past this. You're going to go off and do so much, grow so much. And I'll be there, every step of the way. I'm there with you always," August's voice was growing fainter, but Jaune was terrified that if he spoke then August would stop talking forever. "I need you to promise me. Promise me you'll leave this place, leave all of this behind you. Go off and see the world. Be the hero you wanted to be. You can do it. You saved me, kid, all those years ago, you saved me, don't ever forget that. Promise me you'll be that hero, OK?"
Jaune said something, a broken word lodged in his throat as he tried to hold the fracturing pieces of his heart together. He nodded dumbly as August's body went slack against his own. The man's large frame slid against Jaune's smaller frame and toppled over, lifeless into the snow. Jaune knelt there, shock freezing him in place.
His mind couldn't piece it together, he couldn't quite figure out what had happened. He wanted to shake August awake, tell him to stop aging around and that they needed to run, but his self-denial was cut short by the familiar wailing of death.
He numbly shifted his unresponsive body back to the entrance of the mine, large smoldering boulders still clumping the exit shut. Smoke escaped from the small gaps in the rocks, hiding away the raging fire inside.
The monster shifted the earth, rolled the rocks crushing against it away, and emerged from the fiery hell hole it had been entombed in. Its bright blazing eyes landed on him in recognition and its furry body burned. Yet it still moved. It still came for him. It wanted him, it wanted to kill him, to make him suffer. Even in his shock, Jaune knew that's what this had been, the monster had used its abilities and manipulated him into killing his own family. Jaune had killed its children, and it had made sure Jaune had suffered the same.
It creaked forward in slow deliberate breaths as it allowed the despair of his actions and the fear of encroaching death to marinate Jaune's being. It relished in the anguish of Jaune's suffering and it allowed its prey to wallow in despair before it finally killed him.
Before him was no Grimm, it was a demon from the stories his mother had told him as a child. A creature of evil that had an awareness. It could think, could emote, could understand. Jaune shivered in the cold. His broken mind and body finally relented under the strain, and he simply waited for the final moments of his life.
"Childr…. Children…" it creaked out. Its hot breath flushed against his skin, bright eyes former burrowing themselves into the deepest parts of his mind. It roared into his face, hot saliva drenching his face as its unnatural toothy maw danced dangerously close.
It left him there. It left him alone, turning itself away it fled into the night, heavy steps echoing in the desolation it had caused. It left him alive to suffer and to remember what he had done.
Jaune's body collapsed in the snow, the last living person in a sea of violence, fire, and death. The same as all those years ago, only now no one was coming for him.
Weiss
Weiss had only come to Professors Port's office because she happened to see the light still flickering inside. She had left her dorm and, in her haste, had forgotten to dress appropriately for the bitter cold descending unto Vale. She shivered as she crossed past the fountain and to the main stairwell leading upwards. Her thoughts and feelings were still a mess from her conversation with Yang. She simply needed a moment to clear her head.
Yet as she approached the office door, she relented to herself that perhaps a more personal talk with someone else might help clear some of the confusion and hurt that clung to her. She was surprised to find the door swung open as she knocked. For a moment she hesitated, it was deep in the evening after all, and she would hate to bother the man at such an hour. Perhaps it was too late to really reconsider after coming all the way. However, there was also the danger of a scandal. A teenage Heiress sneaking around in the night to see a male Professor, she could already imagine the headlines. It was almost enough to turn away, give up, and condemn herself to sort out the emotions on her own as she had long since grown comfortable doing.
It was the sound of someone retching that forced her to take the final step and enter the office. She had expected to see the portly man at his desk or perhaps sharpening his weapon, instead, she found the brute curled on the floor as he lowered his head into a waste basket. His body shuddered and convulsed as he emptied his stomach. It was a less-than-respectable sight.
"Are you alright?" She asked cautiously. She was terribly inept at moments such as these.
He raised his head to look at her. His hair was a mess of knots and his eyes looked tired and hollowed. Sweat clung to his clammy skin and his shirt was drenched.
He looked at her with confusion, as if uncertain she was really there. He began to speak before he dug his head back into the trash can and vomited again. He hardly looked like the thug he had when they first met. It may have been more out of pity than concern that she stepped forward to try and offer some form of aid.
"I don't need your help, Princess." He spat.
There it was again, that perpetual, unseemly, inane nickname that she absolutely despised. Even now, as he lay gasping and disheveled on the floor, he still treated her as less than himself. She wouldn't have it, not that night at the very least.
"Well excuse me for caring. Should I simply see myself out and let you continue on with your abhorrent lack of basic manners and courtesy as you vomit on the furniture like a sick dog?" She asked.
Weiss stepped into the room. It was rather large with pictures of Professor Port throughout his career. She could see weapons of all kinds mounted to the walls alongside images of what she assumed were the different creatures and animals he had slain with each one. It was a bit much for Weiss' tastes, but it was absolutely in character for the boastful man. She stepped over the custom fur-lined carpet and past the small luxury chairs in front of the massive wooden desk. There was a bathroom in the corner of the room, stepping inside she gathered a small washcloth and dampened it in the sink.
The brute looked at her with those sharp, untrusting eyes of his as she approached. She swatted away his hands as he tried to push her away and helped to get him back onto the couch he had been sleeping on.
"I don't need you to help me," He repeated, some of the color had returned to his face.
"I don't recall asking for your opinion," She handed him the cloth. "Here, do try to make yourself at least a bit more presentable."
Despite his attitude, he reluctantly took the cloth and wiped his face clean. With that accomplished Weiss stood back up and straightened her clothing, appearances mattered at all times.
"I was hoping to speak to the Professor this evening, do you know by chance if he will be returning?" She didn't particularly want to start a conversation, but she would rather know than be left waiting aimlessly.
"Doubt it, he had a meeting with the other teachers. He probably won't be back tonight."
"Then why are you here?" Weiss asked.
"Why do you care Princess? Shouldn't you be off lording over your own team?"
"Enough of this!" Weiss snapped. She was so sick of the treatment. Whether it was this man in front of her or Blake, she refused to be treated like some kind of villain any longer. "That is not my name. I don't know what I did to somehow offend you so deeply, but I don't believe I am deserving of such abhorrent treatment. Not from you and not from Blake either."
"Blake?" He muttered. "Guess that makes sense."
He leaned back against the couch and let out a long sigh. He looked exhausted, his eyes were dark and his face was tight. All the energy and anger that had been mounting behind him before vanished all at once, leaving a haggard-looking boy in its wake.
"That's why you're here?" He asked. "Another team fight?"
Weiss wasn't sure why he had suddenly dropped his previous attitude, but it was a relief if nothing else. The spite and ire that had dominated her just a short while ago were gone. She just felt tired.
"So, you've heard about our team's recent troubles."
"Ruby's been talking about it for a while. Kept mentioning the team fighting. Doesn't help that my dorm is right across from yours. Makes it hard to keep to myself."
"I hadn't realized we'd been so vocal," Weiss winced. "I suppose I should apologize."
Her father would have scolded her for admitting fault for something as trivial as this, however, he wasn't there. He was never there.
"Don't worry about it. You're not the only one fighting," Jaune said. "You came here for advice? I doubt Port's going to tell you anything different than just to talk to your team."
"I have already tried that. It was met with less than desirable results."
"You sure you talked to them and not at them?" He relented under her hard stare; he was almost dismissive with a casual wave of his hand. "I'm sure you did your best. I have no right to judge you. I'm no better."
"I've heard bits and pieces of your team's mission," The mood shifted once more, this time to an almost somber atmosphere as Weiss tried to find the words to fill the empty space between them. "Is Nora…?
"She's stable. I managed to check up on her in the hospital wing. Ren said she should make a full recovery."
"That's good," Weiss sighed, she could feel a bit of the heaviness in her chest dissipate if only slightly. "I'm glad to hear that. The others will be as well."
"I'm surprised you care so much. Didn't figure you and Nora were exactly the types to hang out with each other."
"Why shouldn't I care? We are…well, more like acquaintances after all…"
"It's a hard word, isn't it?" He caught a glimpse of her confusion. "Friends, I mean.
"Clearly you took a bigger beating than we all thought. Perhaps the infirmary is where you should be rather than loitering around in someone else's office." Weiss remarked, she took no small pleasure in the irritation carving itself into his face.
"Just forget it," he said.
"You asked why I was here; it seems only fair you should offer the same kind of courtesy. Why are you not in your dorm?"
"I can't face them. Not yet. It was my fault. It was my obsession and arrogance that got Nora hurt and I know they have to be thinking the same. So here I am, running from my problems." He muttered.
Weiss was surprised to hear him open up so freely to her. However, the more rational part of her knew he was just using her as an outlet rather than an actual friend. That was fine with her, there was less emotional baggage and responsibility needed if that was the case. Perhaps she could use him the same, however selfish that made her feel.
"So, you're just planning on waiting here until that courage somehow manifests itself? Waiting until something changes, and you suddenly have an epiphany that leads you to confront them?" Weiss almost laughed at the sour look he tossed at her. "Don't be such a child. If you want something you have to seize it, fight for it with all you have. You won't find forgiveness wallowing in some corner like a beaten puppy."
"Are you really any better?" He was angry now, it seemed to suit him better than the pity he was trying to push on himself. "You ran away too, right? It's why you're here instead of facing your own team? Or maybe they finally got sick of your attitude and dumped you."
"Attitude? I have been nothing but cordial with you, but all I receive in return is spite and animosity you inundated brute," Weiss bit back.
"All you've done is judge me you uptight, short-sighted, priggish Princess. All you've done is harass Ruby for not living up to your abnormal standards and belittle your team for not sharing your sanctimonious beliefs."
"All you are is a child deluding himself with fairy tale fantasies, but you're no knight, and you're certainly no hero, you pessimistic, rabid dog!" Weiss shouted. "At least Blake had the grace to feel ashamed for her mistakes, but here you are deluding yourself that if you sit here and wait like a good little dog it'll all be forgiven. You're simply the worst."
"Oh, I'm so sorry for not dragging others into my own self-serving ambition. You're a lying, pretty little tool for your precious father. All you can do is manipulate and cheat you undeserving coward."
"You threatened me with a sword!" Weiss yelled. "And for what? Why? What did I do to make you hate me so much!"
"You took them from me!" He shouted, his eyes were foggy and unfocused as if caught in a memory. "Give them back!"
"Give who back?" Weiss asked in total confusion.
It was strange, to see him break out of his trance-like state. One moment his eyes had been clouded over in hazed anger, his body tense and rigid in the throes of rage. In an instant it vanished, his blue eyes cleared into confusion and a deep regret bloomed on his face. He sagged as the emotions fled his body and he leaned forward to cradle his head in his hands. Weiss was almost tempted to try and comfort him but the fiery hot temper she had worked herself into refused to offer any form of compassion.
"I've been such an idiot." He muttered.
Her spite wanted to push him further, drive the wedge of guilt even deeper. She wanted to hurt him, to give self-satisfaction to all her turmoil and grief from the last few hours. She wanted him to hurt. That was how her father had raised her, it was the Schnee inside of her that wanted retribution.
'You gotta be you first, Weiss.'
"It seems I've hurt both you and Blake, if even indirectly," Weiss said, the admittance felt bitter in her mouth. "It seems my family has hurt you both in ways I wasn't aware, and for that I'm sorry."
"No, not you, it was never you," Jaune said, his voice empty and cracked. "I just pushed the blame onto you. Port was right, I really was just running this whole time. I just shoved the blame onto others to try and protect myself. I'm sorry Princess."
"That is not my name," She wouldn't allow this to go on. She would move beyond her title, her lineage.
"Schnee any better?" He asked.
"Weiss, my name is Weiss," Yang's stupid comment lingered in her head. Though she had to admit it there was a strange sense of freedom that came from proudly proclaiming her own name, even if it was to someone as inconsequential as the brute in front of her.
"Right. I'm sorry Weiss."
Weiss shook her head. It wasn't only his fault, she had to bear some of the responsibility as well. It was only fair. She hadn't a clue what just occurred but for some reason, he had resigned himself. If the brute could force himself away from whatever cliff he was standing at, Weiss knew she could as well.
"I'm at fault as well. I seem to be having trouble making…" She scoffed. "This shouldn't be so hard to say."
"Friends?" He offered and Weiss couldn't help the irritation bubbling up again.
"Yes, that. Ever since I arrived here, it seems like everyone else has just naturally settled into new partnerships. Yet here I am still struggling to figure out why I cannot do the same."
"You can't force teamwork. It has to grow naturally, organically. It's something that bends and can break, but you can't control it or else it turns into dominance. There has to be trust, when you break or lose that trust you can't be a team."
"What exactly happened in the Forest?" Weiss prodded.
"I abused the trust I developed with my team, I took advantage of Pyrrha's inexperience, and worse, I underestimated how far my team was willing to go for someone like me. It got them hurt, and I shattered whatever bonds I made in an instant."
"I think I can understand," Weiss said. She paused for a heartbeat before braving ahead. "I don't know how to let go. I've never known. Trusting a perfect group of strangers, that's just absurd. After all, what do they really know about me? But at the same time, what do I really know about them?"
"I think we both underestimated our teams," Jaune said as he rose from the couch. He stumbled for a moment as he walked over to Professor Ports' large desk. Papers and random items were scattered and littered the top of it. Jaune reached down and opened a drawer. He pulled out two glasses and a bottle of alcohol. "How bout a drink?"
"That is hardly appropriate for students," Weiss chafed at his proposal.
"You've broken curfew, and you entered a teacher's office without them present. I think you've already proven yourself more than a delinquent," He set the glasses down on the table in front of her and poured a generous amount of amber liquid into both.
"I am most certainly not a delinquent," She took the glass he handed to her. "I am a model student, top of her class."
"A real pain in the ass," He commented with a shrug. "Relax a little. Gather yourself and face them. Ruby will probably forgive you on the spot if you just apologize, and Blake will probably sulk for a few days and then come around."
"And Yang?"
"Still working that one out myself," He took a long sip of his drink.
Weiss raised the glass towards her lips, she caught the scent of alcohol and nearly recoiled. Taking a gingerly sip, the burning liquid slid down her throat and she coughed.
"First time is always the worst. I remember when August gave me a sip from his canteen and I…" He trailed, something came over his face and he lost himself in a memory.
"Why are you helping me?" She asked suddenly. It was enough to snap him back into the moment. "Just a few minutes ago we were at each other's throats."
He tipped back his glass and downed the drink in one large gulp, gathering himself. "Why did you come to Beacon?"
It was an unexpected shift in topics that left her at a loss for words. "I came for a quality education, and an opportunity to distinguish myself."
"Isn't Atlas Academy closer to home?"
She took another sip, hoping for a chance he would simply drop the subject. The alcohol burned in her nose, and she almost gagged at the taste. "What is this? It tastes like poison."
"Good bourbon. Port doesn't have anything lighter," He commented, filling his glass once more.
"I came to Beacon to make a name for myself away from Atlas. I wanted a chance to go beyond just my lineage. It seems I was mistaken in that pursuit from the beginning." There was more, so much more but the man in front of her was the last person she was willing to open up to any more than she already had.
"Wouldn't Vacuo have been further away?" The questions began to grate on her nerves, she took another disgusting sip.
"If you must know, I came to Beacon because my grandfather helped end the Great War here. He was a hero during the war, and he fought through the streets of Vale during one of the final battles, breaking the invading forces of Atlas and putting an end to the bloodshed."
"So, you wanted to be a hero like him?"
"I'm not Ruby. I'm certainly not hero material. I just wanted a chance to figure out who I am and what I can do. My grandfather had no money, no name, but he managed to become a shining star across Remnant. I hoped I could find a glimpse of that here at Beacon."
"And have you?" The question was too much. Weiss shook her head and refused to go any further.
"Why did you come to Beacon? It seems awfully unfair if I am the only one to open up." She needed to change topics. She couldn't face that part of herself, not yet.
"I made a promise, that's all," he said. The distant look was back.
"What kind of promise?"
"The kind you can't turn away or run from. The kind that haunts you longer than seems fair," He said after another sip. "Sorry, that might be a little hard to understand."
'They'll need their big sister to help them out.'
"No, I think I get it."
"So, what will you do now?" He asked.
Weiss wasn't sure. Part of her was tired and simply longed to return to her dorm, burrow into her bed, and try to escape from the conflicting emotions. Yet she knew deep down what she had to do at that moment. She hated that she knew. It would have been so much easier if she could simply feign ignorance.
With all of the indignation and courage she could muster she downed her drink, ignoring the unpleasant burning as it went down and rose to her feet. Her head spun and she wanted to vomit but she cast a hard stare at the boy across from her.
"I'm challenging you!" She declared. He looked confused, of course he did, she was just as confused herself. "I won't run away. I will face my team, but in turn you have to do the same."
Her face burned; she blamed the alcohol. Jaune stared at her for a long moment with an irritatingly dumbstruck expression before finally relenting with a long sigh. "None of you will just leave me alone, will you?"
He raised his half-empty glass towards her. "It's a promise I guess."
They clinked glasses and the pact was made. In retrospect, she felt it was a foolishly childlike agreement. A vague, undefined promise made in the heat of an emotional evening. In that moment, however, Weiss was filled with a sense of burgeoning determination she hadn't felt in a long time.
"I suppose I should thank you," she said as she set the glass down.
"Never thought I'd hear that from you Princess," He mumbled.
"It's Weiss," She shot back.
"Right," He grimaced.
She took a moment to gather herself. She had set herself down an unpleasant course for the evening and to turn away from it would be the same as admitting defeat. She would not lose. With a curt farewell, she headed toward the door.
"My name is Jaune, by the way." He called out as she stepped out into the hall. Weiss didn't say anything as the door closed. She left him there alone, with nothing but the lingering traces of memories and a half glass of bourbon to comfort him. She had a promise to keep.
Ruby opened the door to JNPR's door after the third knock. The shorter girl looked surprised to see Weiss. A series of fleeting emotions washed over her face from surprise, to worry, and finally to a somber uncertainty.
"Hey, Weiss," Ruby started. A silence hung there in the hallway as Ruby tried her best to look anywhere but at Weiss. "I guess Yang told you where we were?"
"She did," It was hardly surprising to find only Yang in their dorm upon her return. Yang was forthcoming with letting her know where Blake and Ruby had gone and offered no argument when Weiss declared she was heading across the hall to talk to them. Now, as she stood there in front of Ruby, all of the carefully crafted words and apologies she had worked so hard to refine on her way back suddenly withered and died on her lips. There was so much to say, but the words seemed like lead; heavy and uncomfortable.
"Hey, so look, about what happened. I get it. You guys got a little too personal and said some stuff that you probably regret. So, how about we just leave it alone for tonight and we'll try and sort it out later ok?" Ruby asked. She shuffled awkwardly in the door frame before stepping out into the hallway while shutting the door. She looked uncomfortable, and Weiss couldn't help the regret that started to pool.
"Ruby, listen…" This was the moment she had to stand firm. She couldn't flee. She wouldn't run from the responsibility again, not for something this important. "I'm sorry."
It was unpleasant. The words and the intention were all so incredibly repulsive. It went against everything she had been taught, against every lesson her father had screamed and beat into her. However, in this singular moment she was not Weiss Schnee, she was Weiss of team RWBY.
Ruby didn't say anything. She simply stood there with confusion plainly etched onto her face. The embarrassment of it all was getting to Weiss and she had to force it down just to speak properly.
"Well? Say something you idiot. This isn't easy for me, you know!"
"Oh…uh..right..Sorry, I just wasn't expecting you to apologize." Ruby said.
"I'm not some heartless monster you know?"
"Could have fooled me."
"Excuse me?"
"Kidding, I'm kidding." Ruby laughed, and just like that the atmosphere changed. Just like that it seemed like everything would be alright. Weiss knew better, this wasn't the challenge, and she hadn't fulfilled her promise.
"I said something awful about you, and I need you to understand it came from a bad place." Weiss said.
"It's alright Weiss, I get it. I mean it sucks and all, and sure I was a bit upset but the fact that you willingly came here to apologize is more than enough, really."
Weiss shook her head. Ruby was too passive, she lacked assertiveness. More than that she was far too forgiving. It would be easy to leave it at this, pretend all had been resolved. But, that was the same as running away wasn't it?
"It's not enough. I said some terrible things about you all. Things I think I did mean. They were cruel and unfair. I do think you're too naive, too reckless, and at times overbearingly immature. But you also have a kindness and warmth that brings others together. When Blake fled you were the first one to go to her. I couldn't do anything, I froze, but you leaped straight into action. You have an annoying habit of never giving up. I'm…happy we are on the same team, truly I am. I hope you can bear with me; I know I may not be the easiest person to get along with, but I want to try to be better. And could you also let Blake know that I'm sorry as well?"
The door opened, and Blakes head crept around the edge. She looked disheveled and anxious. For a moment Weiss was tempted to stop, but she had already started and if she let this chance slip by she had a sinking feeling she would never be able to do it again.
"Blake, I said things I don't think I fully understand the weight of. More than that…" She had to be honest, she had to finally put words to feelings. "I cannot forgive the White Fang. I can't let go of what they've done and what they've taken from me. I won't."
"I see," Said Blake.
"I.." She paused. The words were stuck in her throat.
'Apologize? For what? I didn't do anything wrong.'
The moment stretched into uncomfortableness. She had to say something, she had started this after all.
"Do you know why the White Fang's emblem is a wolf's head?" Blake asked.
"Because it is a proud and noble animal, one willing to rip apart its enemies?" Weiss asked.
Blake shook her head, "Because it's an animal that is both defined by its ability to hunt and survive on its own as well as thrive in a pack. It represents the White Fangs ability to fight as one force, and alone if needed."
"Right…"
"I remember. Years ago, when the White Fang first started to make more noise and started attacking Dust Shipments there was a big pushback. Demonstrations and banners saying, "Kill the Pack'' or "Animals should be kept on a leash". We bore it. We handled the hate and beatings. Every time we would be knocked down, we would rally again and again. That's what the White Fang is supposed to be. An organization for good, one that pushes its members to support each other and to help fight for Faunus rights. ``
Weiss tried to object, but Blake cut her off.
"But somewhere along the way, we lost sight of that. The more we were beaten, the angrier we got. And as our anger and frustration grew, the flag changed from a proud wolf's head to a wild beast, drenched in the blood of its fallen brethren and baring its fangs at the world. We've done more than a little wrong, and we've hurt people. I've hurt people. I'm not part of the pack any longer. But I'm still the same girl who is a proud member of the White Fang, the White Fang who will never stop fighting for the Faunus.
That's who I am. Blake Belladonna. It's nice to meet you."
Weiss knew what she needed to do.
"I am the heiress to the largest Dust Company on Remnant. A pureblooded noble lady. My Grandfather was the great Nicholas Schnee, the hero who helped end the Great War that nearly tore Remnant apart. My family's company…has helped thousands, it has helped usher in a new age of industrialization and aided in the fight against Grimm more than any other force in History, second perhaps only to the Huntsman Academies. But we've done so at the cost of others. We've committed acts against Faunus that cannot be overlooked. However, I am not in my family's company. I am not defined by only my name. I am the Granddaughter of one of Remnant's greatest heroes and I am proud to carry the Schnee name. I am Weiss Schnee, it's a pleasure."
They locked eyes. Bright gold met icy blue in a tense moment of silence. Both girls stared at each other. Weiss refused to budge first but was forced to break away when Ruby let out an excited squeal and suddenly threw herself at them both. The shorter girl crushed them both in an awkward hug and Weiss felt her head collide against Blakes.
"Oh, this is the greatest! We've all made up! I knew you could do it." Ruby said.
Weiss pushed the girls face away as Yang suddenly opened the door to their dorm.
"I can't believe I'm the one saying this, but can you all keep it down, some people are trying to sleep."
The blonde's appearance only spurred Ruby on further. "Yang! Get your butt in here. Team hug!"
Yang shrugged and Weiss felt her breath leave her lungs under the pressure of Yang's strong grip as she crushed them all together in a tangle of limbs.
She wasn't sure when she started smiling, or when the laughter started to well in her chest. Nothing had really been accomplished. Blake hadn't actually forgiven her, and Weiss had lingering anger and resentment that she couldn't simply let go of. In the moment however it seemed too trivial and so she let herself simply enjoy it, for however brief and fleeting it was; she was happy.
A.N: Hey, it's been a while. I have no real excuses. Life and school. and work, everything kept being a bit preoccupied. Not to mention this chapter in particular was a real headache to write. I wanted to do it right but I ended up cutting a lot and condensing most of the original points. It was originally meant to be a huge chunk of worldbuilding and extra details but while I was writing it I realized this wasn't the main objective of the story. This is only the reface and if I keep getting caught up here then I'll never reach the actual ending. So I had a lot of rewrites, a lot of editing, and a lot of cutting. But I hope this still turned out alright. I'm sorry for the wait, but I am excited to hear your guy's thoughts and opinions. Your reviews and follows have really been encouraging and kept me from just putting the story down indefinitely. I want to first thank ComissarArty for their continued, awesome work. They really make this happen. I also would like to thank Averell Torrent for helping me with the long editing process and giving helpful feedback. Please check them both out if you have the chance.
Come To Jesus: Yup!
Heyomen: Well I somehow made it happen! I hope it was worth thew wait and that it met expectations. Thank you so much taking the time to read this!
reviewer: Thanks for taking the time to read, I hope you're still enjoying it. This chapter was an absolute monster to make. Thanks for taking the time to review!
someoneorsomething: I have similar thinking as well. I just wish the show would expand on it, or at least make the Maidens limited to particular elemental magic, they all feel like the same powerset and I can never tell how strong they are supposed to be. Cinder keeps absorbing some of the other maidens' powers, but it doesn't feel like she changes at all. Oh well, I hope to tackle those problems later on. Thank you for the review.
Kabuto S. Inferno: I'm sorry this took so long. I finally made it though. Firstly I want to thank you for your constant support, your reviews mean a lot and I look forward to your thoughts every time. I don't have much to add this time around. The chapter is heavily condensed, and there's still a bit more left over. I couldn't fit the whole thing but this is the brunt of Jaunes backstory, and we will see the ultimate fallout of his and Lucia's relationship next time. Though there are a few other characters between now and then that have some things to do. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed and I look forward to your thoughts. Take care!
