Chapter 1: Jaune Arc's Guide to Getting Good(witch)
On all sides, the void pressed on the boy, and the boy stared back into oblivion. He did not know how long he had been there. He was sure he had once known, but that had been stripped away from him.
All he had left was the name, 'Jaune Arc,' it was the one thing he had refused to let go of; all else had submerged into the darkness.
For some time, he remained in this state, yet it was impossible to tell for how long.
It could have been an eternity; it could have been mere moments.
A cold voice echoed through the darkness, searing its icy chill through his mind,
For devotion inspires bravery.
Bravery inspires sacrifice.
Sacrifice leads to death.
In death, the soul is freed.
May the light of your soul be everlasting.
Bright, hot pain seared through him.
Jaune woke in the midst of a broken house, or at least he thought it had been a house. The walls were broken and torn; he was lying on the ground, and he noted that his clothing was torn and ripped: a white shirt split open, dark blue jeans stained crimson from blood, and his chest soaked in the same crusted red.
He pulled his shirt apart, checking for an injury, only to find a massive scar cracking the skin of where he knew his heart to be.
How did he know that?
Jaune frowned, but no new knowledge came to him.
He rose to his feet unsteadily and made his way to the ripped-open doorway.
There, out in the streets, he saw bodies splayed about, soaking in their own personal red, and Jaune's gut clenched.
What had happened? And why couldn't he remember?
Just as he was about to exit the door, something nudged his mind as he spotted a white glimmer on the floor. He turned fully to see a sword encased in a white sheath, two golden arcs emblazoned across it, and a blue-wrapped handle that stuck out of it, resting on the ground.
He reached down and picked up the sword, running his hands over the arcs of the sheath. They felt like they should mean something to him, but nothing stuck out in his mind.
He drew the sword free with a rasp, relying on instinct more than anything; he depressed part of the sheathe, expanding it suddenly into a shield.
"This sword is yours, son. Take care of her; she'll take care of you." The memory of a deep warm voice said.
Jaune looked down at the blade and, for a moment, could have sworn he saw the blade gleam at him.
Jaune turned and looked about the house, entering a kitchen and a lounge area, even checking the upper story of the house, but there was nothing there; everything seemed to have been taken, and the food had rotted.
There were no clues as to why he was here.
Jaune exited the house, wandering down the street, still shocked. He didn't see the dark shadow that exited a house and didn't hear its soft stride as it prowled across the street.
Something slammed into Jaune, and he rolled across the ground, losing his sword and shield, crying out in pain as something golden white flickered around him.
Jaune looked at his assailant and realized that he was faced with a monster. Fangs bared at him, and the wolf-like creature leaped forward, slamming into his chest.
The golden white flared about him again as the creature savagely ripped into him.
Jaune could feel himself weakening with every strike, and horror clenched his gut.
In a blind panic, he thrashed against the beast, slamming his hands against it. He could do nothing to dislodge it, though, and he screamed in pain as it continued to chew through the golden white that shielded him.
He didn't want to die. Not again.
Something burned in him, and he seized it, flexing it around his right hand, which turned into a brilliant meteor of light that pierced through the monster's head, causing a spray of black ichor to cover him.
The creature collapsed on Jaune, bearing him to the ground.
Something warm seemed to seep into Jaune, filling him slightly.
It was like a small piece of strength, Jaune thought, though it didn't feel 'enough' for lack of a better term.
Enough for what was the larger question.
Jaune shoved the creature off him and crawled away, grabbing his sword and shield and rising to his feet, frantically looking around for other assailants.
Nothing moved on the empty street.
He considered for a moment heading back to where he had come but then decided that there wasn't any safer than here, judging by how he had found himself.
Jaune turned and continued walking down the street, having nothing else to do. Walking gave him purpose, though, something to focus on.
He continued past red splashes and unmoving bodies, though sometimes it was hard to tell from the state of them. He continued past stores and houses, some completely unharmed, some torn apart with visible splotches of red on the ground.
This gave him time to contemplate.
Where was he?
Why was he here?
Was this all there was?
As he continued down the street, his eyes were keenly attuned to the shadows around him. Something gnawed hungrily in his gut as he gazed about him, trying to spot any more of the creatures.
He spotted a building with a small sign out in front of it that said, 'Welcome to Shion.'
He arrived at something that looked like a town square, and his heart dropped. He saw a massive black creature with four legs, two arms, and two heads, one horse-like one, unsettlingly humanoid. Wildly, he thought it looked like a horse had been mismatched with a human torso.
It trailed about the courtyard, its limbs dragging behind it.
It turned, and red eyes locked onto him, and then it howled, the scream ripping through the village.
Jaune turned to run, but he didn't even manage to make a single step before he was batted across the ground, his body tumbling as it tore through the stone.
Jaune tumbled and halted as he hit a building, breaking slightly into the stone.
He groaned but nevertheless frantically tried to get to his feet, pulling himself free from the building; this time, he had maintained his hold on his sword and shield.
A black arm sped across the space, aiming to embed through Jaune; by accident or latent skill, Jaune's shield was in the way of the arm as it slammed into him before deflecting into the ground, embedding several feet into it.
Despite blocking it, Jaune was launched several feet backward, his feet sliding across the ground.
Jaune tried to turn and run from the creature, but he barely got a couple of steps before he was batted across the ground, the energy within him substantially decreasing. He crashed across the stone before he rolled to a stop.
Jaune tried to rise from the ground; he felt icy cold fear swelling through his system. The energy within him seemed low, weakened to near nonexistence.
Jaune didn't want to die here. He gritted his teeth, and the energy in him swelled, burning through his limbs; it began to rise from near zero. Jaune leaped forward, pounding across the ground and raising his sword as he yelled, which sounded more akin to a scream. If he couldn't run away, he would just have to-
Two black limbs split through the air, the first glancing off the yellow energy around him, and he felt something inside him shatter.
The second embedded through him.
Jaune looked down at the limb that was going through his chest and coughed up a slurry of red liquid.
Then he died.
Jaune woke in the midst of a broken house. The walls were broken and torn; he was lying on the ground, and he noted that his clothing was torn and ripped; his chest was soaked in crusted red blood.
He hastily pulled his shirt apart, checking for an injury, only to find a massive scar where he knew his heart to be.
"I'm alive," he murmured to the seemingly empty air; it didn't make sense; he had felt himself die.
Slowly, he stumbled to his feet, noticing the sword had returned to resting by the doorway.
"Brothers," Jaune whispered the words between a fervent prayer and a curse.
He felt weaker than he had before; that minuscule energy he had felt had disappeared.
With heavy steps, Jaune walked to the doorway and looked outward, only to see the same scene he had before.
Jaune stepped out into the street, gripping his sword tightly; he looked around this time more, hesitantly, searching for the black shadows.
A word pressed against his mind, a dark word he had cursed; two shadows slunk out from around a house, and Jaune remembered.
"Grimm," he murmured in disdainful derision.
Yes, he hated and feared these creatures; his nightmares came to life.
His sword warmed in his grip, and for some reason, Jaune had the impression that his weapon also despised these creatures.
The Grimm drew nearer, and Jaune settled himself into a half-remembered stance someone had tried to teach him once, his shield positioned outward, his sword held in guard position.
"Well?" he murmured questioningly at the Grimm; the Grimm replied, racing forward, aiming to end him.
His stance wasn't quite right, he realized, as one of the Grimm managed to slide around his shield, bringing its jaws to bear savagely ripping forward towards him.
Jaune stumbled back and attempted a weak slash that merely sliced a thin line across the Grimm's mask, his sharp blade cleaving cleanly but far too shallowly.
The other Grimm slammed into him, knocking him back, but this time, Jaune was sure to hold onto his sword and shield as he rolled across the ground.
He felt the sudden loss of energy within him and gritted his teeth, pulling on what remained. The golden glow swirled around him, and he felt energized, his muscles filled with power.
He jutted his shield out in a bash that blasted the incoming head back, rebounding it to the ground.
Making himself small, he ducked under another paw and jammed his sword outward with more strength than skill, embedding it through the mask of the grimm with a small almost noiseless shink.
The other Grimm did not hesitate, lashing forward and jumping at Jaune.
He drew his sword free, noting the spray of black blood as he met the other one head-on, feeling a small rush of strength enter him.
The Grimm savagely attacked, swiping in fury at him, and Jaune could only desperately back peddle across the ground, barely not tripping across his feet.
Jaune blocked a paw and grounded himself, feeling the hit ripple through him as he glared fiercely at the Grimm as it opened its mouth to roar.
Jaune lashed his sword through the Grimm's open jaw, and the rumbling beginning of the roar cut off suddenly.
Jaune drew his sword back, stumbling a couple of steps as he looked at the dissolving bodies of the Grimm.
He felt the warmth surge through him; this time, it bubbled up within him, overfilling him; he felt a piece inside himself twisting and contorting.
A blue rectangle popped up in front of his disbelieving eyes.
You Have Leveled Up!
Name: Jaune Arc
Class: Knight
Strength: 10-12
Dexterity: 8-9
Intelligence: 8-9
Vigor: 10-12
Soul: 12-16
"Brothers," Jaune murmured again, though he was still unsure of the meaning of his words. He sagged down to his knees, taking deep breaths.
After a couple of moments, he once again rose to his feet. There was nowhere else to go but back to where that horrible creature had been. Maybe with his new strength, he would be able to beat it?
Except he knew the change had been, at best, incremental. He was really no more ready to fight the monstrous Grimm than he had been.
Still, what choice was there? He still knew so little; near that Grimm had been the biggest concentration of houses, so if he was able to defeat the Grimm, he might be able to gather some more information.
Jaune trudged down the street, having sheathed his sword back into the shield now sheath.
Down the now familiar streets, he trudged out of some faint hope. He checked a couple of the homes only to find blood stains and broken furniture.
Faintly, Jaune wondered if this was all there was.
He didn't know. He knew intrinsically that there were other people, yet here in this village, all things living had left.
Leaving the Grimm as his only company.
He crouched down as he got closer to the plaza, hoping to spot the Grimm before he was found.
There, the four-legged beast stood, an abomination against the sky in the middle of plaza.
Something sour and dark twisted in Jaune's gut as he looked at the Grimm; the Grimm turned about, sniffing the air.
Grimm could sense emotions Jaune remembered.
Well, if his fear had already given him away, then he had nothing better to do than challenge the Grimm again. It wasn't like he could run from it. He had already learned that lesson.
Jaune breathed deeply and called upon his energy, pushing it through his limbs. It was seemingly inexhaustible, he realized. Answering his call without complaint or hesitance.
Jaune sprinted across the ground, pushing his body as hard as he could. A black blur shot forth, and he dove to the side, rolling across the ground before coming to his feet and charging again.
The limb retracted back in a blurring black flash as Jaune finally arrived in front of the Grimm.
He swung his sword, pulling all his light and strength into a single slash, aiming to cleave the Grimm's leg from its body.
In a sickening twist of its torso, the Grimm spun, bringing its other arm to bear in a blurring sweep that tore stone loose from the ground before colliding with Jaune's shield he managed to brace at the last second.
Jaune feet were sent skidding across the ground, his shoes scraping over the concrete as Jaune did his best to push back.
He slid for multiple meters before he came to a stop; he looked over the shield, glaring at the Grimm.
"I already know that move," Jaune murmured; he rotated his sword arm out of reflex, spinning his blade in a sliver crescent.
The four-legged Grimm roared and then charged forward with hooves cleaving deeply into the concrete as it ran at Jaune.
Jaune threw himself to the side, but he realized he had miscalculated and had done so too early as the Grimm changed directions, curving its path.
The creature's hooves came down, slamming into Jaune, and he felt his light diminish.
Jaune groaned but slashed with his sword, hoping to make the creature back up; his blade sliced into the creature's leg, and it screamed, but the swing was too weak, and Jaune found his weapon yanked away from him.
Starring up at the incoming next set of hooves, Jaune only had one word left to say.
"Fuck."
Jaune woke in the midst of a broken house. The walls were broken and torn; he was lying on the ground, and he noted that his clothing was torn and ripped; his chest was soaked in crusted red blood.
Jaune groaned and settled his head back down to the ground, staring at the ceiling.
"Okay, maybe I should kill some more of the small ones," he stated dryly to no one in particular.
He stood up, grabbing his sword once again before exiting the house, prowling along the streets, looking for the Grimm he knew that still existed here.
It didn't take him long to come across the first group.
A group of canine creatures with black fur and white fangs prowled the streets sniffing along them, searching for something.
Jaune sprinted forward, catching the leader by surprise, and with an inelegant swing of his sword, he sliced its head free of its body.
One of the Grimm attempted to leap forward, which Jaune met with strength, bashing the head of the Grimm back and knocking it to the ground, which he finished by impaling the beast's body with his sword, nailing it to the stone.
The last Grimm growled, sprinting forward, and Jaune met the beast equally head on slicing with his sword with several rapid slashes, warding off any potential strikes.
The Grimm, frustrated, snarled and leaped. Jaune caught the bulk of its body on his shield before his sword snaked out, impaling the Grimm.
Jaune took a deep, steadying breath and kept moving.
You Have Leveled Up!
Name: Jaune Arc
Class: Knight
Strength: 12-14
Dexterity: 9-10
Intelligence: 9-10
Vigor: 12-14
Soul: 16-20
You Have Leveled Up!
Name: Jaune Arc
Class: Knight
Strength: 14-16
Dexterity: 10-11
Intelligence: 10-11
Vigor: 12-14
Soul: 16-20
Jaune looked up at the darkening sky, the faint embers of the sun fading from sight. He had scrounged throughout the houses looking for Grimm and had been moderately successful. He'd run across multiple packs of the Grimm, and he had cut through their numbers; his movements had smoothed out as he fought. Though, he'd had a second slip-up and had woken up in the broken house again when he had encountered a large bear-like Grimm.
He'd gotten it the next time, though.
In his explorations, all he had found was that a wall encircled where he was; portions of it were broken, exposing a large forest outside the settlement.
He had considered walking into the forest, but he had come to another unpleasant realization: he had no idea where he would go. The Grimm in the center of Shion, if defeated, would give him access to the center of the village where he figured there might be a map, something he had been unable to locate in the houses around him.
Walking out into the wilderness, in comparison, did not seem like a wiser idea.
Still, Jaune was coming up to the limit of what he could do if he couldn't manage to defeat the Grimm in the center of the village. There simply were no more Grimm left on the outskirts of the village. He had killed them, and they didn't seem to be coming back.
"Damn," Jaune said, chewing his lip, before looking back toward the center village. Notably, while he seemed to lose a bit of strength when he died, he seemed to have a base that he couldn't go below, seemingly set by each level he had attained.
Jaune began his journey back to the center of the village, his gut twisting as he did so.
Walking to your death wasn't easy, even if it wasn't permanent.
As he got closer, he began walking through the streets more carefully; perhaps he could get a sneak attack off.
The ruined streets were quiet, cleared of Grimm by his wanderings, all except one. He peered from behind a building into the plaza, spotting the four-legged creature standing stock still.
He took a final deep breath and then sprinted across the plaza, his boots storming against the stone.
The creature's torso twisted backward, and he locked eyes with malevolent red.
Fear curled in his gut, but he ignored it and rolled to the side just as an arm lashed down, shattering concrete into the air.
He rolled to his feet, feeling the new strength in his body, which allowed him to pop to his feet with ease he hadn't been able to before.
He continued running, crossing by the beast's flank and drawing his sword as best he could, slashing against its side and carving a trail through its body before a hoofed foot blasted him in his chest, knocking him backward, and he grunted as the air was knocked from his lungs.
"Right," Jaune said, rolling back to his feet, "New move."
Jaune sprinted forward again, managing to duck under a negligent limb before the second set him rolling across the stone.
Jaune groaned and then slammed his sword into the ground, halting his uncontrolled roll. With a cough, he pushed himself back to his feet, glaring at the Grimm.
Even with the other Grimm, he had slain so far, Jaune felt a feeling of despair settling in his gut. He wasn't strong enough.
Jaune growled, shaking his head furiously, "No," he whispered.
His sword warmed in his hand, and Jaune felt something shift in his mind, a word, no a statement.
His arm moved with guided along it seemed by Jaune's own mind, something he had seen before, a technique.
"Her name is Crocea Mors." The warm voice spoke again in memory.
"Crocea Mors," he roared, mirroring the memory of a golden-haired man; his energy flushed through his system, and his sword shown bright yellow, a miniature sun, yet it did not hurt his eyes.
The Grimm visibly reared back with a scream of rage.
Jaune swept his sword down, and a golden crescent flew forth, ripping across the stone in a flash.
The Grimm moved, shifting to the side. In an awkward step, the beam seared through its left shoulder, and its left arm dropped to the ground.
Jaune grinned, a faint feeling of hope in his gut. He could do this! He had hurt it!
It glared at him and then roared again, and its other arm blazed forth, and Jaune was launched backward as it slammed into him, driving him through the stone ground.
Jaune grunted as he felt his energy rapidly drain as he was ground across the stone till the arm was retracted, and he was left panting on the ground.
Desperately, Jaune reached within himself, attempting to flex his energy back into existence.
The arm shot at him again, a piercing point headed directly for his chest.
"Double Fuck."
Jaune woke in the midst of a broken house. The walls were broken and torn; he was lying on the ground, and he noted that his clothing was torn and ripped; his chest was soaked in crusted red blood.
Jaune slammed the back of his head down on the ground, "I had it, I fucking had it, I fucking choked, brothers damn it!
Jaune stormed back to his feet and headed back toward the monstrous Grimm, only to be met with more unpleasant news when he peered at it from around a building.
"It got its arm back. Of course, it did," Jaune sighed and leaned back against the building, thinking about his next strategy. Whether the Grimm was able to regenerate limbs or whether his own death had something to do with it, he was unsure.
Either way, that meant he had to defeat the Grimm in one go and couldn't just wear it down.
As he leaned back, he spotted that the roof of one of the buildings was still relatively intact, and his eyes traced down from the roof over the wall.
It could work.
Jaune slinked across the ground till he reached the wall.
Flexing the energy through his body he leaped up shooting into the air and landing somewhat awkwardly on the roof with a soft thud.
Jaune remained still for a long moment, waiting to see if that would trigger the Grimm to attack.
Nothing happened.
He crawled across the roof until he could peek over the edge; the Grimm was still in the courtyard, trailing about listlessly.
Jaune bent his knees and took several rapid breaths, psyching himself up; he flared his energy through his body, molten heat pooling through him.
Then he leaped.
Like a missile, he soared directly at the Grimm, landing on its back sword first, the blade itself glowing from the energy runoff from him, embedding into its human torso.
It roared, and the sound felt like a physical blow, but Jaune gritted his teeth, holding onto his sword.
"Crocea Mors!" he screamed, channeling everything he had into his sword. Golden energy flared bright, and Jaune gritted his teeth, narrowing his eyes against the storm; the Grimm's flesh split, searing through its body like a hot knife through butter.
Something hit him, launching him away and tearing him free from his grip on the sword.
Jaune rolled for several meters before he found his way back to his feet.
The Grimm's body was smoking as his sword was stuck proudly through its torso.
Jaune firmed his grip on his shield, looking for the first move; he wouldn't be caught unaware again.
Black arms launched forward, ripping towards him in wide arcs, boxing him in.
Well, if he couldn't go to the side, he would just have to go straight forward.
Jaune sprinted across the ground, waiting for the right moment, as he tore across the stone.
"Come on, come on," Jaune murmured, chanting to himself, waiting for the point where the arms could no longer change direction.
At the last second, he leaped into the air, the arms colliding with each other with a thunderous crack.
He soared over the Grimm's head, cartwheeling almost out of control before he landed atop it's back and made a desperate grab for his sword's handle. He missed once as it roared and shook, then, in a desperate readjustment, grasped the hilt and then yanked it clear before leaping off the back of the creature, landing positioned at its hind legs.
"Crocea Mors!" he roared, swinging his sword in a wide horizontal arc, flaring his golden energy higher.
A crescent of gold swept forth, longer than he was tall, carving through the air before it sliced the beast's knees out from underneath it.
The Grimm screamed, collapsing to the ground, unable to support itself.
One of its arms swung back around, but Jaune was ready this time.
He braced his feet, feeling the impact of the limb against his shield as it tried to spear through him; the force of the blow sent him skidding back.
Jaune slammed down his sword, spearing into the ground as he crouched, bracing himself and stopping his skid.
With a flick he freed his sword and swung, slicing the end of the limb off with a small rotation of his wrist.
The limb retreated, bleeding oily black as the creature struggled to rise to its feet.
Jaune took deep panting breaths, his stamina near it's limit yet he knew that he had to finish this or it was back to square one.
Jaune moved forward, jogging his body into a sprint; he spun his sword with his full body, and his sword gleamed a bright gold as it split the humanoid torso's head off before cleaving off the horse head attached to the lower body.
Jaune collapsed to his knees, panting, completely spent; he felt drained; he tried to call upon his energy again, but his grip slipped, and the golden glow faded from around him.
"That thing better fuckin' stay dead," Jaune mumbled balefully before he collapsed unconscious.
Jaune woke, but this time, he did so in a broken courtyard of what had once been a village. The courtyard was empty of all life except for him.
Immediately, a screen assaulted him.
You Have Leveled Up!
Name: Jaune Arc
Class: Knight
Strength: 16-18
Dexterity: 11-12
Intelligence: 11-12
Vigor: 14-16
Soul: 20-24
You Have Leveled Up!
Name: Jaune Arc
Class: Knight
Strength: 18-20
Dexterity: 12-13
Intelligence: 12-13
Vigor: 16-18
Soul: 24-28
You Have Leveled Up!
Name: Jaune Arc
Class: Knight
Strength: 20-22
Dexterity: 13-14
Intelligence: 13-14
Vigor: 18-20
Soul: 28-32
Jaune waved away the screen, looking about before sighing in relief as he spotted the mostly dissolved corpse of the Grimm, "At least it's dead," he sighed in relief.
Jaune grabbed his sword from beside him, sheathing the blade home in its sheath.
Glancing about the plaza, he walked up to the nearest building, checking inside the shattered door, grimacing at the blood splatters he spotted before beginning to look about the building.
Quickly, he determined it must have been a store once, likely for groceries, he determined from the rotten husks, but just as quickly, he realized there was nothing to help him here. None of the food was remotely edible, and there were no other supplies.
He moved on to the next building, finding a tall building with well-built stone steeples along with stained glass windows.
Jaune opened the chapel doors and looked inside to see a pair of humanoid statues at the far end of the room. One stood with their palms outstretched in a helping gesture; the other stood looking down at the chapel, his arms crossed.
The Brothers, Jaune recalled. Those who were said to be the gods of Remnant, well, at least the world before the moon was shattered.
Jaune furrowed his brow, rubbing at the headache that had stirred to the forefront of his head; he had remembered something there.
"Useless," Jaune said disparagingly; he couldn't recall how he came to be here but could remember some gods who pretty much everyone agreed no longer observed them.
Jaune exited the church and continued checking through the buildings.
Four more buildings and a whole lot of nothing was what Jaune found; what hadn't been ripped apart by Grimm or destroyed by time seemed to have been taken from its place by the previous inhabitants.
As Jaune walked into the fifth building, he expected a lot more of the same but was surprised to find a strange tablet on the floor in what looked like had been a shop. It had a slightly cracked screen that lit up as soon as he picked it up.
"A scroll," Jaune said, surprised; he fiddled with it for a moment, utilizing knowledge he didn't know he had before he found the emergency function.
With a jab of his finger, he triggered it, and the screen shone bright red, indicating its activation before Jaune sat back against the counter. Across the store was a mirror, and Jaune realized he hadn't seen himself before. He seemed to be a teenage boy with long blonde hair and blue eyes. Through his torn shirt, he could see the scar over his heart.
He wiped his golden blonde hair away from his eyes.
It was the only scar he seemed to have, though he noted he had some worn callouses on his hands, presumably from his sword.
"I don't understand," Jaune said into the silence, "Any of this," he sighed, rubbing his head.
His mind felt scrambled and fragmented; at times, he would remember things, and other times, nothing.
His sword warmed against the palm rested against the hilt, almost in a comforting manner.
"What do you think Crocea Mors?" Jaune asked, aware of the strangeness of talking to his sword, but at this point, he just wanted to say anything to someone else, "Do you understand why we're here."
The sword, as typical of weapons, did not respond.
"Heh," Jaune chuckled, shaking his head, bemused with himself.
The scroll he had rested against the ground flared red, and text wrapped across the screen.
'Attention, Citizen, your emergency alert has been received. Retrieval incoming.'
Jaune blinked, surprised despite himself. He didn't think that there'd be such a quick response.
Glynda Goodwitch had seen much in her life. Only now, in her early thirties, did she consider herself a capable huntswoman.
Capable enough to know that this was a trap. Shion had gone down weeks ago from a bandit attack; there had been no reported survivors, and further reports of Nuckaleeve, a B-class Grimm, had seemingly sealed its fate. The entire settlement was deemed lost and not worth recovering.
It was just her unfortunate luck to be nearby in Mistral on a short mission before Beacon's term began when an emergency signal came in and even more unfortunate to have Ozma telling her in that mysterious way of hers that she should be on the team sent to investigate.
The Bullhead screamed across the sky, beginning to circle what remained of Shion. Glynda ignored the murmurs from the other two hunters that had been assigned to her.
She could see the blood splatters and destruction just fine what she was really looking for was a hint of bandits that she was sure had laid this trap.
Yet try as she might, she could not see anything. The beacon was set in the center of Shion, and a single golden eyebrow raised as she saw the still-smoking remains of what must have been a Grimm.
The Nuckaleeve Glynda mused. Well, given that the Nuckaleeve was down, they could attempt a closer look.
"Take us down," Glynda said.
The pilot affirmed, circling down in a spiral until the Bullhead alighted on the ground, the metal crunching against stone and Glynda stepped out, primly followed by her temporary team.
They walked through the square toward one of the buildings where the signal was coming from, a store of some sort, Glynda realized.
"Stay behind me," she said to her team before she pressed against the door, her Semblance pushing it open, revealing…
An empty shop, and there, seemingly asleep, was a young man with blonde hair, clutching a sheathed sword in his hands that had a strangely familiar yellow arc across the white sheath.
If Glynda couldn't see the boy's faint breaths, she would think him dead.
His chest was coated in dark red, enough blood to have killed a man; past the red, she could see a massive scar over the boy's heart.
Glynda approached, surprised at the sympathy the image evoked; the boy had clearly been through a battle, and she couldn't even imagine how he had survived Shion's destruction.
Still, she was a professional, and she was still aware this could be a trap. In fact it still likely was.
"Boy," she said, nervous despite herself; men were an uncertain thing to her; you never knew quite how they would react.
The Boy's eyes shot open, and clear blue regarded her with caution, and she noted that his hands had tightened on his weapon.
"Humans," the boy murmured seemingly musingly as he looked at them before he looked at one of the Huntresses with her that had fox ears, "Faunus," he said in an equally considering manner, before he looked back at Glynda, "Does this mean you're here to rescue me?"
The words were all said with little emotion; it was rather strange, Glynda thought; it was unlike how people usually reacted when rescued.
Still, she had a job, "We're here to rescue you, yes. Is there anyone else?" Glynda asked, her face set on her usual stern façade.
The boy cocked his head at her before he shook his head, "No, I didn't find anyone else," there wasn't much emotion to those words either; a mere statement of fact.
Well, it wasn't like Glynda had expected any survivors in the first place; they would have to do a quick sweep of the village from the air to be sure, though.
"My name is Glynda Goodwitch, I'm a Huntress. Can you stand?" she asked, "We should leave before the Grimm come."
The boy stood, gripping his sword tightly and shaking his head, "No Grimm to come; I killed every one of them in the walls."
Glynda looked at the boy, her interest piqued at his words, but nevertheless, they exited the building with the other Huntresses headed for the Bullhead.
They boarded with little fanfare, the boy settling at the far side, keeping his eyes on them.
One of the other Huntresses spoke as the Bullhead hummed to life and took to the air, a woman with purple eyes and black hair giving the boy a kind smile, "What's your name?" she asked.
"Jaune Arc," the now-named Jaune said before he turned to look out the side of the aircraft.
The last name sounded familiar to Glynda. Something Ozma had said when the statute in front of Beacon had been constructed.
"Any relation to Aurelius Arc?" she asked.
Jaune looked at Glynda, something flickering through his eyes, before he shook his head, "Never heard of him."
The Huntress with purple eyes frowned, "Really? I thought everyone had heard of Aurelius, he and his son Hadrian led the liberation of Mountain Glenn near Vale, we've heard about them even in Mistral."
"Why would he have, they're dead, have been for a while," snorted the other Huntress a Faunus with golden blonde fox ears and equally golden hair flipping it out of her emerald eyes, "Only you would think of something like that, don't mind her kid Isabelle's just nosy."
Jaune shrugged, "Whatever," his eyes hadn't moved away from the window.
Glynda looked thoughtfully at the boy, he hadn't really shown any emotion, and as strange as it might seem coming from someone like her, given her own emotional capabilities, it bothered her.
"Do you have any names for people we should contact," Glynda asked, "Any family from outside the village?"
Jaune turned from the window and looked at Glynda, "No, I don't have anyone," he said with finality and still the strangely empty voice before he looked back out the window.
That silenced the conversation for a while.
Jaune was unsure about these women. They talked strangely; there was heat and fire to their words, though Glynda seemed markedly cooler. They made him nervous, his first real interaction with other people, at least that he could remember. Somehow, it seemed he had destroyed the conversation with his words, though he was unsure what he had said. He had simply been answering the question.
Well, that, and for some reason, when Isabelle had talked about Aurelius and Hadrian, something painful had clenched his heart. Maybe he had been overly short in his response after that, but he hadn't been interested in experiencing the painful sensation again.
He'd already had plenty of painful sensations since he had awoken.
The bullhead soared over the forest below, and Jaune observed the great expanse of nature that passed beneath him. It seemed it had been a good idea to not try trekking out of the village. He didn't even want to think how long it would have taken him to traverse the wild.
He must have fallen asleep again because the next thing he knew, he saw a city with elegant architecture and sloped roofs arrayed about in shades of emerald splayed before him out the window. The bullhead spiraled to come to a landing on a set of artistically placed platforms evidently designed for air landings.
The woman exited, and Jaune followed them out, finding himself almost immediately disliking the city as he looked at it. There was an undercurrent here of something wrong, something unspoken; the energy within him flexed unevenly, seemingly reacting to his feelings.
Across the platform walked a woman in a white medical coat with bright auburn hair and pale green eyes; when she saw them, her pace sped up, coming to a stop in front of him and the rest of the woman who had brought him back, "You said someone may be injured?" she asked blandly to Glynda.
Glynda nodded and gestured at Jaune, "As far as I can tell, he is no longer bleeding, but this young man seems to have sustained some form of injury."
The woman's eyes fell upon him, and then they widened, "Brothers, you let him walk around like that?" she rushed up to Jaune, and Jaune's nerves ticked up.
"We didn't really have a choice," Glynda said, "He didn't actively seem to be bleeding."
"Huntresses," the woman snorted derisively, "Please sit down," she said to Jaune.
Jaune settled down on one of the crates she directed him to. She fluttered about him before reaching for what remained of his shirt and, with a quick slice of scalpel, cut it down the middle before pulling it off.
Jaune winced as the dried blood tugged at his skin as it came free.
The woman pulled some white cloth from the container she cared, and Jaune recognized the smell of antiseptic, oddly familiar, in his nose.
She began cleaning the blood from his chest gently, and Jaune noted that Glynda had remained off to the side, observing with a furrow to her brow,
The woman finished cleaning the front of his chest around the wound and Jaune saw the full scar for the first time. It was a pale white twisted thing covering the majority of his pectoral. No doubt, the wound had been deep.
The woman in front of him moved around. "Oh, Brothers," the woman murmured, and Jaune tried to twist and see, but a gentle hand stopped him.
The other traced around his back.
"Entirely through, but how…" the woman was muttering to herself. She kept cleaning, and Jaune remained still.
Finally, the woman stood up, looking at Glynda, "Huntress, may I have a word?"
Glynda nodded, and they moved some feet away from Jaune, far enough for Jaune not to hear.
Jaune frowned; whatever she had seen, he wanted to know; he focused on his ears and, in a moment of inspiration, flexed the energy in them; suddenly, he could hear them.
"-must have some kind of healing semblance of proportions I have never seen before. That injury should have killed him."
"Hunters can be very durable," Glynda responded doubtfully.
"I know Hunters; I've worked on them before; that injury went straight through his entire chest; the size of it should have obliterated his heart; there's no hunter I know of that could live through that," the woman responded irritably.
"I see," Glynda said; a long pause occurred before she spoke again, "Thank you for your time, Doctor; I'll take it from here."
The Doctor looked frustrated, but then she sighed and walked back to Jaune.
She looked him directly in the eye, "My name is Doctor Pollen. If you feel unwell in the slightest, I'd ask you to come and see me," she handed him a card that Jaune pocketed.
Glynda walked up to him, eyeing him with a cool gaze, and Jaune looked back, weighing the woman before him.
"Mr. Arc, I had some questions if you felt up to them."
Jaune shrugged noncommittally but gave the woman his full attention.
"Do you know what happened in Shion?" Glynda asked.
"Grimm, I suppose," Jaune replied blankly, wondering why she was questioning him.
Glynda looked at him with a frown, "Grimm overran Shion after a bandit attack; as far as we are aware, there were no survivors. I must ask, do you know how you survived."
Jaune shrugged; as far as he could tell, he couldn't die, which, given the benefits so far, he wasn't going to question, "Lucky, I suppose."
Glynda gave him a long look, bending over to come to eye level with him; Jaune blinked as he got an eyeful of two pale pillows before his eyes locked with Glynda's own.
Her emerald eyes seemed to be attempting to pierce through him, searching for his secrets; unfortunately for her, Jaune didn't have any secrets, or at least he didn't have any secrets that he knew.
After a long moment, Glynda sighed, "If that's what you say, Mr. Arc, we should get you some clothes; you can't very well go around looking like that."
Jaune glanced down at his now incredibly deficient covering and found himself agreeing.
Glynda turned, obviously expecting him to follow her, and Jaune's eyes caught onto a specific part of her anatomy unwillingly.
His sword warmed under his grip, and Jaune blinked and then shook himself.
"Odd,' he murmured.
I am also launching P. A. T. R. E. O. N. for my original works. I'd love for you all to check it out. That, of course, does not mean that these stories will stop being published. There will just be original works on that website.
Dirty Doug
P a treon . com (slash) user?u=53654642