"Over my travels, I have discovered a great many different things. I have seen men and women fight beasts of legend and come out the other side alive. I have seen a swarm of those same beasts overrun towns in the outlier regions and leave naught but scrap and waste behind.

But one constant fact remains throughout my travels is this:

Remnant is a world of fighters. Not of warriors as some travellers before me have claimed. Not everyone has the capacity to pick up a sword or axe and start battling against the Grimm after all. But fighters.

Mothers and fathers fight each day to make sure their children have food each day. Children fight to keep themselves safe from the little dangers that surround them. Villages, often comprised of little more than a handful of families, fight together to protect the holdings they have created in the wilderness.

And yes, of course, there are the Hunters and Huntresses. Whether a loose collection of powerful individuals, like the Mistrali, or a battalion of battle hardened soldiers, like the Atlesians, the Hunting Lodges around Remnant provide a grand and noble service wherever they reside.

But where did they come from? What really makes a Hunter or Huntress? And, perhaps most importantly, who are those Hunters and Huntresses that even the members of the Hunting Legions today look up to?

That, dear reader, is what I hope to answer in this book."

- Tatar of the Roaming Tribes, "Marvels of Remnant: The Hunting Lodges"

Jaune sighed heavily as he re-read the familiar introduction. His comfortable hoodie did little to keep that creeping chill of doubt from entering his head.

Is there any chance that I could be a Hunter?

A common enough question for anyone of Jaune's age but one that seemed to occupy more and more of his time. He thought of his parents; the locally revered Hunter and Huntress duo of "Stone Rain". He thought of his sisters, collectively known as "The Pleiades" who had rose to fame in Vacuo as a full package of Huntresses, support workers and even an assassin if the rumours were true.

Electra never did talk much about what she did. Although, she never talked much at all these days.

But most of all, he thought about all of those heroes he'd read about in his books. From the storybook tales of "The First Huntress" and "Ask and His Mighty Axe" to the more recent recounts in countless history books. It all came back to the same question:

Do I have the right to stay safe and let others sacrifice themselves for me?

The answer in all the stories was no. The First Huntress had given up her home, family and even her name to fight the Grimm. She'd wandered into the darkness of the world and fought Grimm until Remnant was just that little bit lighter. Ask swung his axe against the heel of a Wulf for a thousand days to free the villages in Atlas and finished an old, decrepit man. Even his parents had given up raising their children in a huge way to protect the local area. So, no, Jaune did not have that right.

The only problem was his skill or, rather, his lack thereof.

While his family had staunchly refused to teach him anything beyond a little fitness routine, ("You can learn how to run first, Little Jaune. There's nobody, Hunter or not, that doesn't need to know how to do that.") he'd picked up a little style from simply observing his father and mother training in the back garden. The clashes of steel, the broad arcs of their blades and even the iron determination of both his parents all fed into his self admitted patchwork of a fighting style. He'd spent hours trying to hammer his physique into something resembling in shape.

But his lungs inevitably gave. His muscles crumpled under him like dead wood. His head spun and little Jaune was inevitably taken in from the outside to nurse his wounds.

But Arcs never gave up. Even when it might have been better for them to stop.

Jaune's idle thoughts were broken as his father tromped in from outside. The light sections of armor combined with the thinner clothing showed off his father's goliath physique. The mighty beard upon the weathered face only added to the warrior picture Petros Arc projected onto his son.

"Jaune!" came the booming voice of his father. "What are you doing reading on a day like this? It's lovely out there!"

"I know, Dad." replied Jaune. "I was just… you know…"

Petros looked at the book his son held and simply shook his head. "Jaune. We've talked about this."

"I know!" Jaune shouted back. He rose from his chair and stood in front of his father. "We've talked on and on about how, even though you helped Electra and Medie and all of my other sisters to fight, you won't lift a finger to help me! How I get my butt kicked at school by everyone because I'm the son of the great "Stone Rain" team and can't even fight properly! How I stay home, doing chores while you and Mom go out and leave me alone for days or weeks on end! I know, Dad!"

Jaune stood there, panting heavily. His shoulders tensed up and he felt the familiar twinkling notes of shame and regret travel through them. His gaze remained firmly on the ground as he spoke once more.

"I just want to help, Dad." Jaune turned his body away and began to walk upstairs.

"Jaune." The baritone froze the young man in place. "Get Crocea Mors and meet me outside."

"D-Dad?" Jaune said.

"Now, boy!"

Jaune flinched into his room as if he'd been slapped. There, amongst the comics and clothes, lay the ancient heraldic symbol of his family. Gleaming amongst the general disarray of it's surroundings, Crocea Mors lay against his bed.

Alright. He thought. I can do this. Just gotta show Dad I can defend myself. He won't hurt me. Just gotta be good enough for today. Please let me be good enough. Please…

He grabbed the weapon, unfolded the ashen sheath to full shield and walked downstairs.

"Now, Jaune." Petros Arc stood across from his offspring. "Here's the deal. You land a solid strike on me and I'll train you along with your mother to become a Hunter. By the time we're done with you, Beacon will be asking you to join instead of that mad application system they have."

"Alright!" said Jaune, excitement clear across his face. He began to draw his sword before he was stopped by a gut punch in the form of his father's voice.

"But." The word echoed between the man and the youth. "If you don't hit me at all, or if you should exhaust yourself in the effort, you'll cease trying to follow me and the family into Hunting. You'll focus that mind of yours on something else. Understand?"

The imposing armor did little to raise Jaune's confidence as he replied. "Yes, sir."

The older man nodded. "Alright then. Then whenever you're ready, Son."

Crocea Mors emerged with an audible sharpness to it from it's time worn companion. The shield was held stalwart against Jaune's bodyand, with his left foot forward and his stance light, Jaune swung a wide blow at his father.

Which was promptly and harshly swatted away.

"No." Came the growl. There was no malice or disappointment there. There was only a statement of fact.

Jaune growled right back. He roared as he took another swing at his father's gleaming armor.

Another light backhand spun him entirely around this time.

"No."

On and on it went. Through stabs, flurries, jumps and dodges, Jaune's attacks were all parried away as if Petros was swatting bugs from the air.

All the while, the same word kept piercing the air.

"No." "No." "No!"

"GAAAH!" Jaune screamed, tears streaming down his face. He could feel the difference in his stance this time.

I'll hit this time! I'll be faster! I'm not quitting! I can do this!

The sound of metal on metal gonged through the yard.

The mighty Ilium, his father's shield, stood tall and proud in the path of his strike.

"You tried, Son." A hint of regret was all the emotion Petros permitted into his voice.

"But, I can still-" Jaune tried to finish his sentence before Ilium was smashed into his shield.

"I can-" The metal construct slammed into Jaune again, this time managing to collide with his body.

"You can't." His father said as he pinned the smaller boy to the ground. "You'd be dead ten times over. Can't do anything if you're dead, Hunter or not."

The weight began to increase, just enough to send Petros' final message across.

"I love you, Son. But I'll not stay awake for the rest of my days worrying over all my children."

A single tap to the forehead was all that followed as Jaune fell into darkness.

Jaune awoke to find himself surrounded. Clothes swarmed his bedside and floor like a pack of Beowolves as his bed stood clean among them. His jumper was still on him, the familiar rabbit staring accusingly back up at him.

He sighed, taking off the cool coloured blanket and walking over to his desk. A letter was pressed atop the general pile of clutter. The tell tale elegant strokes of his father's handwriting stood out against the cream colour of the parchment.

Jaune.

I'm not going to say sorry for what happened today. I see no need to devalue your passion, your ferocity or even your strength after that performance.

I shall say only these words and no more.

What you have in excess is not enough to survive as a Hunter. Passion and strength can only carry you so far against the beasts we hunt. I could not send you out there, no matter how much training I could give you, without knowing you had some safety on your own.

I don't know what I was looking for out in the garden. Some spark of brilliance or skill that you'd been keeping silent perhaps.

All I can tell you is that there was nothing to set my mind at ease. No matter how much I trained you, even if I put you through the same training as I did your sisters, I could never be sure that you wouldn't be hurt or worse out in the world. Your ferocity would see you ripped to pieces when your strength failed and your passion, I know, would ensure that you wouldn't back down even then.

Please do not think I did what I did out of spite or some petty need for control. I love you my boy and would do anything to keep you safe from the horrors that stalk in the forest.

Today, that meant changing your path. I have no doubt at all that your mind and your will can excel at anything else you choose.

Just not this.

Love,

Dad.

P.S - Been called away on Hunting duty. Simple patrol around the village. Should be back sometime tomorrow morning.

Jaune stared at the letter before sitting down on his bed. His head sinking lower, he let a little cry of despair tear through his lips.

So much time. So much effort. With a single letter, Jaune's hopes had been stopped dead.

He said nothing as his will gave out and he collapsed onto his bed once more.

The evening wrapped around the house like a funeral shroud as the tears rolled silently down his face.

A single beam of light pierced the window which hit the sleeping form on the bed. A slight tilt moved the boy's head out of the way but even he knew such a maneuver would only forestall the inevitable.

He'd have to get up sooner or later.

Without a sound, Jaune shifted his sheets off his tired body and slid into his casual gear. He pulled up his jeans, put on the hooded jumper once more and tied his black trainers with a molasses-like pace. He cast a glance to his armor and weapons before forcing his eyes to look elsewhere.

Not gonna need them anymore. He thought, almost spitting the words out into the world.

He slid his way out of his room before easing his way down to the kitchen. The mud on the floor combined with the raided kitchen told Jaune all he needed to know about the last evening's events.

"Jaune."

He flinched at the voice and spun around to face the voice. He dropped down into a fighting stance before his brain fully engaged and he saw who was sitting across from him.

Tethys Arc sat alongside her mountain of a husband and was clad in her normal Hunter outfit. The deep purple cloak stood out against the bright sea blue of her tunic. A long combat skirt flowed down to lace up sandals as she held her short dagger against her hip.

Her eyes softened a little as she saw the boy flicker into his stance. She turned to her husband and said "I can see what you meant, honey."

That, much like the tableaux he saw as he came down the stairs, told him everything. "Right, I'm going back to bed." He turned on his heel and went to move back upstairs.

He found his passage stopped by his father's frame.

"Son, your mother and I want to speak to you. Take a seat." He smiled lightly and gestured over to the sofa.

Jaune just shrugged and sat down as his body sank into the worn leather.

"Sit up, Jaune. No need to slouch." His mother said.

"Yes, Mom." His back straightened as he turned his sullen expression towards his parents.

"Now, Jaune. Your father has told me what happened yesterday. I'm here to help you sort out your other options."

Jaune just sat like a statue as the final nail was hammered into his hopes of Hunting.

And that's it. Mom might have been able to overturn Dad but now the great "Stone Rain" has unified against me.

"Now, while your father and I were out patrolling, I had a quick word with the other local Hunting teams and they've given me a few ideas as to what you could be doing now."

She held out a series of papers. Some were hastily written scraps of paper whereas others seemed to be more formal publications. "Vale Hunting" and a familiar village newsletter stood out amongst the thick stack that slammed down on the table like a hammer.

"I know you wanted to be a Hunter but there are several different ways you can still be involved with Hunting if that's what you want. There's the support network; I know Cassie from that village a few miles from here would love to have another set of hands with that..."

Jaune picked up "Vale Hunting" and began to half listen to his mother's ever extending list of not-Hunting options.

"What about the Medic Core? They're always looking for runners and with your brains Jaune, I'm sure you could easily grown up to be a healer for the outlier regions. Or there's…"

His eyes glazed over as he continued scanning over the articles in the popular magazine. "Grimm beaten back by Hunting Team from Beacon," "New Advances in Hunter Weaponry: The Power of Tri-Form" and "Dancing and Combat: Using Boogie to Beat Beasts!" all had the main headlines but a smaller article caught the young man's eyes.

"New Testing Initiative comes to Glen Town Centre."

The article went on in a rambling way about how new Hunters were being needed to "fight against the Hordes!" and how the Vale council was looking around for "any hidden talents" from the surrounding villages.

"And of course, the Prism Foundation's looking for lab assistants. That might be good for you… Jaune? Are you listening?" Tethys said.

Shaken from his focus, Jaune looked up to his mother and asked a question. "What's the Prism Foundation?"

Tethys' eyes widened as she replied. "It's a small group of men and women who are dedicated to researching different healing uses for Dust. Why, thinking that sounds like an option?" The hope gleamed almost visibly in her eyes.

Petros smiled. "You'd be a good researcher, Jaune." He patted his son on the back. "You've got a brilliant mind on those shoulders."

Jaune simply shrugged. "Where are they based? I don't really want to be too far from you guys."

"They've got people all around Vale, although I think the person I met was based in Glen at the moment. Professor… something or other."

Jaune smiled. He still had a chance.

"I'd love to meet up with them. I think research might be what's best. And hey! If I don't like it, I'm sure there'll be something else." The grin stayed plastered across his face as he got up. "I'll get ready to travel to Glen tomorrow and I'll contact that Professor you were talking about."

His mother said nothing as her own grin matched her sons' while Petros ran over and hugged Jaune in a huge bear hug. Jaune gasped as the iron grip of his father forced the air out of his lungs.

"I'm so proud of you, my boy. This'll be good for you, you'll see." He held him just a little tighter before placing him gently on the ground.

"You'll need some food of course. I'll see what I can get from the farms on patrol tonight." Tethys went over and hugged Jaune just as strongly as his father. "I'll leave you a note for directions once you reach Glen after patrols tonight. Oh, Jaune." She put the poor boy back on his feet as she dragged his father away to the outside.

Neither Hunter nor Huntress noticed Jaune take the magazine into his room nor the continued smile keep gracing his face.

Jaune lie down on his bed with his night's' work displayed around him. His eyes blinked rapidly as he yawned not for the first time that evening.

Right. He thought, mind running on fumes. I can make it into Glen for around midday. The testing facility is set up at the main town shelter so I'll line up there. Shouldn't be too long before I get evaluated.

Can't be anything too hard.

Mom and Dad won't mind me taking Crocea Mors with me for protection. Even normal, non-Hunting people need some form of protection. I'll get in, test, and get out before anyone realises.

Once they accept me, I can apologise to Mom and Dad. They'll understand.

I'll apologise to their Professor friend as well.

It'll work.

It'll work…

Sleep eluded the young Arc boy for most of the night. Dreams of fierce combat and a heroes' welcome after a long Hunt flickered through his mind as he tossed and turned in his creaky bed.

Dawn came and with it, a surge of energy sprang out of bed and quickly rushed to the shower.

No time to waste. He thought as the icy water rushed across his bony frame. Gotta get going as soon as possible. His skin was still glowing red as he sprinted back to his room. His clothes were thrown on as his father hammered his door.

"Jaune!" He called. "You alright in there? All set?"

"Yeah, Dad! Just getting dressed."

A hearty laugh was his response. "Well, okay. Your mother and I'll be heading out. We've got reports of some Grimm herds coming this way. Don't worry; opposite side of the town from the Glen road." The metal boots stomped away down the stairs and a final click of the door handle was the final sound Jaune heard.

Pulling on his shoes, the black sneakers with his "left" and "right" signatures on them, Jaune stood up and began to affix his armor. The small basic sheets of metal did little to actually protect and seemed designed more for training than anything else.

Still, better to have something then going bare on the road.

His body shuddered in anticipation as he slid easily out the door and on the road to Glen. His feet sprang into motion as he marched towards the town.

That's a lot of people.

The Glen town centre stood tall and proud amongst the flat terrain and rustic houses that surrounded it. The iron barred doors only served to highlight the copper detailing that wrapped its way around the plain walls. A simple enough building; four basic walls hammered as far into the ground as diggers would allow, it served as a clear structure to run for safety when the Grimm came attacking.

Or, in this rare instance, when Vale decided it needed new hunters and every farmer who thought he could swing a scythe well enough wanted to have a go.

Just gotta make it through. I can still apologise to Mom's friend if I meet them later.

Jaune walked the agonizingly long distance past a menagerie of different would be Hunters and Huntresses who had turned out.

I can do this. Just gotta be patient… and hope that Mom or Dad haven't decided to check up on me.

With that final thought, Jaune took his place in line and began the longest wait of his life.

(A special thanks to rwbyfan5 for beta reading this. Wouldn't have been able to do this without you.

Also, a special shout out to Pick Up a Penny for the title. Thank you so much! )