Here we go!

Tan Oreleaf was content with his lot in life. He and his family didn't have much but they had enough. His family was healthy and well-fed. His neighbors were kind and always ready to help during the hard times. That was the way of small villages like theirs, supporting each other and enjoying what little they had.

Because you never knew when your village would be overrun by Grimm.

Small villages like this one wasn't of any great importance to the Kingdom. They didn't mine Dust. Their produce wasn't big or good enough for the cities to be interested in. In the end, they were just a small community, whose existence wasn't relevant and whose absence wouldn't be noticed or mourned. All they could do was live and pray the monsters away.

If he had prayed harder, would their home be spared such fate?

"Dad!"

"Azure, take the girls and go!" he yelled. The pitchfork in his hands was no good for field work much less a battle. But he could buy his family time to escape. "I will find you soon! Please, just go!"

His wife didn't say anything. She didn't cry or scream. She was strong like that. Their youngest wasn't and kept crying for him to go with them. He yelled back, promising to do just that. A promise he knew he could never fulfill. "It's just you and me now, monster. So do your worst!"

In the end, he was the one to attack first. Blame his fear or his weakness, it didn't matter. With a desparate cry, he swung the pitchfork down on the monster's head.

The old tool smashed into bits and pieces. The creature only snarled before pouncing on him. Its heavy and clawed feet scrapped at him leg, tearing through the meat and reaching the bone.

"Aargh!" he cried in pain. "D-Damn it..."

It was over. He knew it the moment the local hunters said the monsters were coming. Deep down, he knew that his family wouldn't escape full and unharmed. At least, it was him. His son was still young but he was strong. He would take care of Azure and Opal. He was sure of it.

The monster opened its mouth, revealing rows of razor-sharp fangs. Its breath smelled of rot and decay. Up close, the old farmer could see that the monster had already eaten someone before him.

Something moved in the forest.

The monster froze, its teeth inches away from tearing his throat into pieces.

He looked up at the monster atop of him and failed to recognize the creature from before. Gone was the predator out of rhis flesh. In its place, Tan saw a scared animal. They said Grimm were mindless and knew no emotion.

And yet, from its shivering form to the wide red eyes, everything pointed towards the monster being terrified. Getting away from him, the Grimm howled. He could hear numerous paws hitting the ground, getting closer with each second.

It summoned the entire pack here.

The fear was now replaced with confusion. Two gozens of Grimm wolves stood near him and yet none of them as much as looked in his direction. Instead, their blood-filled eyes stared off into the woods, as if letting it out of sight was fatal. Who could provoke such reaction from monsters? Tan doubted he wanted to see them. Having lost too much blood, he had little choice.

"Whatever you are," he thought. "Please, make it quick."

The sight of the boy stepping out of the woods filled Tan with despair. Barely older than his own son, the blonde boy looked like he was a traveller. He must have gotten lost or passed by the terrified people. And now he was about to be killed, either by the suddenly agitated Grimm pack or whatever monster terrified the former.

"Kid, get out of here!" Tan knew he was done for. But he could, at least, do this much to help the unfortunate traveller. "Run!"

The boy didn't move or even react, even as his gaze fell on the pack of monsters. He didn't react. Didn't even flinch. It was neither bravery nor foolishness on the boy's part. Instead, the only way the old farmer could describe the expression on the blonde kid's face was apathy.

Something was wrong. The longer he kept staring at the boy, the more the pit in stomach grew. As if looking down into the abyss, the old farmer felt the fear and panic spreading through his entire being.

He didn't know anything about the young man. Nothing about his appearance seemed off or threatening. And yet the very sight of him was unsettling. It wasn't the feeling born of logic or sense. It was something much deeper.

Something more primal.

"What are you...?"

The boy turned to him and the farmer instinctively tried to crawl away. The boy's eyes, cold and impersonal yet strangely sad and exhausted, pierced deep into his soul, freezing it instantly. That moment, Tan felt like he was staring into the eyes of the Reaper himself.

His voice was cold, devoid of any emotion.

"Does it really matter?"

A

"That's right, Arc!" Rust yelled. "Run away, you coward!"

His face burning in shame, tears streaming down his bruised face, Jaune struggled to run and not fall. Luckily, he had great practice doing just that. Whenever he had a problem, he always ran. Either away from danger or for someone's help. And he was sick of himself for it. He wanted to fight his own battles. He wanted to be the one who people could rely on.

He was so tired of being a victim. But his parents didn't care about it.

"You will not be a huntsman, Jaune," dad said, eyes hard and voice uncompromising. "End of discussion."

All his peers were already training to become huntsmen. They were being enrolled in schools like Signal and Lantern. And those that weren't had their parents or siblings train them. But the kids were cruel and, having learnt he was still a weak kid while they were training to be warriors, they saw it fit to use whatever skills they had to remind him of his weakness.

So why did mom and dad refuse to let him train? They knew he was being bullied. They knew what he was going through. So why did they still let him go powerless? They said they were worried. They said the work of huntsmen was too dangerous for him. But it was nothing he hadn't thought of before. He was thirteen. He wasn't a child dreaming of fairy tales anymore.

He grew up listening to stories of their ancestors being heroes. And dad was a huntsman himself. He knew he was weak. But wouldn't the hard work and training make up for it? If they were worried about him, then wouldn't it make more sense to train him more than the others did with their kids?

Did they have so little faith in him that they refused to even try? Was he that pathetic? Or that unimportant?

Jaune wondered how long he could stay in the woods. Jade or Rouge, the only two who knew his hiding spot, always came for him when it was dinner time. So he had around four hours to think about how weak he was. How utterly pathetic nd powerless he would always be. What a cheerful thought to sit alone with.

"Jaune..."

"Just leave me alone!" Jaune yelled, startled and ready to run. To his surprise, it wasn't any of his bullies. In fact, there was nobody around. "W-Who said that? Show yourself!"

He pressed his back into the tree, eyes wide and searching the place for the owner of the voice. But no matter where he looked, nobody was there. He was about to dismiss the voice as the work of his imagination, when the whispers started again. Calling his name, in the same soft yet no less haunting tone, the voice came from everywhere. Even when he closed his ears, the voice kept chanting his name.

"Where are you?" Jaune whispered. "Who are you?"

"Come here," the voice came from the small pond. "Closer... Trust me, Jaune, you have nothing to fear from me."

The voice was quiet and gentle, soothing yet strong. Slowly, he approached the small pond and looked in the water. He couldn't see anything but dirt and pebbles. And yet, he could feel something was there. Something - or rather, someone - was calling for him. And Jaune answered that call, reaching into the water, unsure of what he was looking for.

In the muddy water, his fingers touched something. It felt like metal, warm despite cold water ut was lying in. His fingers coiled around the object, the strange excitement growing with each second as he pulled it out of the pond. It was a sword, or rather, whatever remained of it. A hilt of pure silver, its guard and handle damaged, with no blade.

Despite all of it, Jaune's couldn't shake off the weird feeling of familiarty with the weapon. As if he found some lost toy or met a an old friend, his grip around the handle tightened, refusing to let go of it.

"Quite the beauty, isn't it?"

Alarmed, Jaune turned around and froze at the sight of the man in front of him. Even though he looked barely older than dad, his hair was silver and long, easily reaching his shoulders. Despite his pale form, his eyes were as bright as mom's, the deep cerulean shade. What stood out the most about him, however, was the pair of golden crescents adorning his armor.

The Arc family crest.

"Jaune Arc," the man said with a smile. It was the voice from before. The same voice that lead him to the sword hilt in the pond. "My name is Valdis Arc. The first head of the noble House of Arcs."

Jaune stared at the man, still lost in his own awe and surprise. Something that his supposed ancestor didn't miss. Unlike the other adults, Jaune wasn't admonished or scolded for standing with his mouth agape. Instead, the old man bowed his head politely, "Pardon me, Jaune," he said with a chuckle. "I have been gone for quite some time and forgot of all my manners."

Valdis looked him in the eyes, the same serene and kind smile on his lips.

"Let me start from the beginning." the old man held out his hand. The small ball of light rose from his palm and turned into a cloud of silver smoke. On the screen of smoke, two figures stood by each other. One white. Another black.

"Long time ago, God Brothers ruled over Remnant. The older one, God of Light, was the giver of life and creation. His little brother, God of Darkness, was the bringer of death and destruction. Despite their differences, the Two Brothers were peace, their powers balancing the scale of the world."

The new figures appeared. Smaller and grey in color, numerous figures surrounded God of Light, separating him from his brother. "But the humanity didn't see it that way. In their eyes, God of Death was the evil, one that his brother needed to save them from. They worshipped the older of Brothers. They promised their loyalty and servitude, all in exchange for ending the God of Death."

The black figure moved away from his brother, step by step withering and turning less humane. Until its form resembled a skeleton rather than a person.

"The younger Brother felt betrayed by humans. Afraid of their words turning his brother against him, the God of Darkness created his own subjects, whose sole reason for existence would be ending the humanity and all that they had ever created."

The black figure raised its hand, and numerous dark figures rose from the ground. Not humans, but monsters and animals. The picture showed them running towards the humans. Tearing their illages and homes. Spreading across the land like a virus. Soon there was war, countless figures fighting among each other, with Two Brothers standing opposite of each other.

"They went to war," Vladis said, eyes heavy and disappointed. "Brother Gods weren't perfect. Petty and selfish in their own ways, the two Gods were every bit as flawed as those who worshipped them. And, just like their flawed followers, the Gods made mistakes. In their war, their mistakes became more and more devastating. The God of Light created Dust and gifted his subjects with Aura. The God of Darkness, in return, created deadlier Grimm and corrupted the minds of humans and faunus alike."

The scene changed, once more. Now, each Brother had a new figure by their side. A green man for the God of Light. And a red woman near the God of Darkness. "Among the worshippers of Light, one man rose above them all. Loyal and determined to succeed, a young man named Ozpin was granted the magic by his God, becoming the Emerald Wizard. And, in return, the God of Darkness picked his mightiest acolyte and fused her soul with his own essence, creating Salem, the Queen of Grimm."

The wars between humans and Grimm and faunus continued. And yet, strangely, as the more people died and more fights emerged, the God Brothers were growing smaller and weaker. But, more importantly, they were coming closer as if reconciling.

"Their days on Remnant coming to an end, the Two Brothers made peace with each other," the words surprised Jaune. If there was peace, then why did the fights continue? "But the peace among Gods did not bring peace on Remnant. Emerald Wizard and Queen of Grimm were no longer bound to serve their Gods. They became the deities in their own right, existing solely to reach their own goals."

"But why didn't Gods just take it all back?" Jaune asked. "The powers, the Grimm... If it was their creation, then why did they not destroy it on their own?"

"Because they didn't see it as their right anymore," Valdis said, humorless and dejected. "The war came to be as the result of Gods' intervention. But it continued because of humanity's own flaws. Afraid that humanity would repeat their mistakes, the Gods decided to leave the final gift in hopes of setting people on the right path."

Four golden objects appeared on the screen of smoke. "The Relics of Creation and Destruction were gifted to show the power Gods had and how it could change the world. The Relic of Knowledge served to make sure people knew which was the right path. And the Relic of Choice was to signify the importance of free will and its role in the world. They created the Relics to teach humans of dangers of playing Gods."

The hordes of figures surrounded the Relics. Fighting over them. Killing for them. Their faces were blank but Jaune could feel the hunger and lust for the power those Relics caused among the crowds of figures.

"Didn't work?" he asked, sadly aware of the answer.

"It did not," the ancestor whispered. "The power to shape the world to one's own liking... Those who weren;t tempted by such power still fought for the Relics in hopes of hiding them away. But Gods knew that those that concealed the Relics were only postponing the inevitable. And so, they decided to make one last effort to right their wrongs."

"What did they do?"

"They created me."

Among the raging wars and countless fights, a single figure rose. Silver in color, with golden crescent on its chest, the figure reminded Jaune of knights from legends and fairy tales.

"I was a simple and humble soul," Valdis smirked, chuckling at the latter word. "A mere farmer who just wanted to feed his family and stay out of fights. Despite my own doubts and lack of skills, the Gods chose me as their Champion to bring order to then chaotic Remnant."

The Brothers raised their hands. The column of black and white light came down on the figure, channeling their energy into him.

"They gave me their blessings and shared their own power with me. For the weapon, they forged their remaining essence on Remnant into the most powerful weapon a mortal could wield."

"Where is it now?" The man smiled at pointed at his hand. Or rather, the broken hilt he was holding in it. "You mean, this is-"

"Sacrum Mors," the old man smiled. The words held power in them, sending shivers down Jaune's spine. "The Blade that brings Balance."

"So what happened next?" Jaune asked, looking at the frozen scene on the cloud of smoke. "Did you win?"

"We did," Valdis corrected. "With countless sacrifices, we managed to bring order to Remnant, pushing the Grimm away into Grimmlands. the Emerald Wizard, then an ally of mine, helped me seal Salem away. Her creatures roamed the Remnant but we were going to hunt them down. Sadly, I was betrayed."

"You were? By whom?"

"Everyone," Vladis whispered. "My allies, no doubt tempted by the power of Relics and no longer afraid of Salem, turned against me. With their combined effort, even Gods' gifts couldn't save me. Weakened and powerless, I could do nothing as the Wizard destroyed my weapon and severed my connection to the Gods. Without it, my body withered and died."

Once given a second look, the man indeed was transparent. Not alive, but merely a ghost. But how? "Divine power cannot be truly destroyed, Jaune. My body - its vessel - is gone but the power still remains. Not that I can do much in such state."

"But why did they do this?" Jaune asked, horrified at his ancestor's betrayal. "They were your friends, right? Why did they turn on you?"

Valdis smiled sadly, "The world is not as simple as we wish it to be, Jaune. Some people are ready to make sacrifices to create a better future. But some would rather let things remain as they are. My allies - my former friends - were among the latter. Maybe it was hunger for power. Or it could be fear of change. Whatever their reasons were, they still allowed the evil of Grimm exist. And now, it seems, Remnant needs us once more."

"U-Us?" Jaune looked at the man. The excitement bubbled in his blood, his brain failing to process all that was happening. "But I am not a warrior..."

He wasn't brave. Or strong. Or smart. He was weak and would only get in the way. What good was he if even his own parents didn;t have any faith in him?

"Jaune," the ancestor sat down on one knee, facing him. "I wasn't chosen for my strength either. Just a mere farmer, remember? No, the reason why the Gods picked me was far simpler. They needed not a powerful and ruthless warrior."

Vladis pointed at his heart.

"But a man with a good heart." the ancestor smiled. "And I believe that you have one as well."

"Really?"

"Yes," the man nodded. "With my training, you will become an even greater warrior than I was. And together, we will fulfill my destiny of bringing order to Remnant. That is, if you are ready to take up such task. I will understand if you refuse. Such burden isn't something to take lightly."

"I will do it," Jaune said, surprised at how determined he sounded. "I want to do it."

"Are you sure?" Vladis asked. "I am not talking of some simple huntsman work, Jaune. The path I am offering is filled with danger and loss. Do you truly believe you can carry such burden? Do you honestly believe you can dedicate yourself to the cause?"

He didn't. But he knew he could do it.

"I do," Jaune lied. "I want to be like you. I want to finish what you started."

It was an opportunity of a lifetime. To prove that he could be a hero. To show that he could be relied on and trusted.

"Very well," Vladis whispered and pressed his hand against Jaune's chest. "Then allow me to pass my power down to you. To forewarn you though, it might hurt a little bit."

Jaune steeled himself, preparing to bear through any pain and discomfort. Vladis' hand glowed with pale white light.

For it is in our purity that we find immortality. Through this, we become the bringers of peace and rebirth.

Vladis' hand flared bright white, transforming into a brilliant flame of soul. As he continued the chant, the fire entered him through the chest. Jaune grunted in pain, his insides burning as if every inch of his body was set ablaze.

And yet, despite the agony, Jaune felt better than ever before.

Blessed by the Gods. Feared by souls corrupt and impure. Bound by sacred duty.

He felt strong. Stronger than he could ever imagine. The feeling was intoxicating even as the burning pain reached his heart. He could feel the power sink itself into his every organ, sending surges of energy through them.

I bestow the power upon your soul and, by Brothers' hand, set thee on the righteous path.

The next feeling could be described only as an explosion. As if the power before only accumulated in him, he felt the massive surge of energy erupt from the very depth of his soul. Enveloping him. Transforming him on the deeper level than he could imagine.

The rush faded soon and Jaune stood along with Vladis. In his hand, however, there was no longer a simple hilt but an entire sword. The most beautiful sword he had ever seen.

"So what do we do now?"

Vadis smiled.

"We train."

A

As the oldest child in the family of eight, Jade had to grow up fast.

Their parents were great and all, but even they couldn't handle the kids without some help. With father often away on some brief mission and mom busy around the house, it was her responsibility to watch over her younger siblings.

As a result, she learnt how to read them like a book. Whether it was a bad grade or some crush, she always knew what bothered her sisters and brother.

Aside from the twins, Jaune was the easiest one to read. And she knew that, ever since dad refused to train him, he was constantly in the sour mood. She understood why, having gone through the same herself. Anger. Sadness. Feeling of inferiority and disregard. Those were all too familiar to Jade.

Which was why his genuine happiness confused him. She was glad her brother was back to his normal self, no longer brooding and frowning. But the change came all too smoothly. And, more importantly, without talking to either mom or dad.

A quick trip to the market seemed like a good opportunity to find out what changed over a couple of months.

"Hey, Jaune?"

"Yes, Jade?" Jaune asked from behind his bag of groceries. "Something wrong?"

Yes.

"No," she lied. "Just noticed you have been feeling much kater lately. Something good happened to you?"

"Well," he smiled. "You could say so."

He didn't continue, which was strange. Jaune was usually far more open with her, rarely if ever hiding something from her. She didn't press the issue though. Lest she will scare him off and push him to avoid sharing anything with her. Still, a couple of questions couldn't hurt.

"Did you make a new friend?" It was a possible explanation for his improved mood. Family was good, but Jaune always struggled making friends of his own. She gasped theatratically, "Or maybe my little bro got himself a girlfriend?"

"W-What? No!" Jaune groaned, his cheeks burning red. She barely held back the laughter at how scandalized he looked. "Come on, it's not funny!"

"Yeah," the familiar voice called from behind. "Jaune having a girlfriend isn't funny. It's hilarious."

Jade rolled her eyes at the owner of the voice. Rust Marais was Jaune's frequent tormentor. A bully with more bravado than anything. It was sad how he used to be one of Jaune's few friends and how much he had changed since then. "Let's go, Jaune."

"That's right, Jaune," the boy mocked, his friends laughing as if it was some clever retort. "You don;t wanna get hurt playing with the big boys, do you?"

"Shut up, Rust," Jaune said, eerily calm. "Before I make you."

The boys burst into laughter, but Jade wasn't having any of it. There was something different about the way Jaune said it. He sounded more confident... and strangely excited. As if he wanted to start a fight and could win.

"Oh look, I am so scared!" Rust shoved Jaune, knocking the bad out of his hands. She made to intervene but his friends got in her way. Unlike hers, their Auras were unlocked. "What happened, Jaune? Finally grew a pair?"

She knew that Rust's Aura was unlocked as well. The bully made sure everyone knew about it. Especially, Jaune. "Jaune! Get away from him, it's not worth it!"

"You hear that? Your sister is worried," Jaune kept silent. The dread in Jade's stomach grew stronger. "What? Not gonna make me shut up? No-"

Jaune's fist connected with Rust's jaw. There was an audible crack and then the scream. The boys in front of her rushed over to their sobbing friend. A moment later, they were going after Jaune.

Her brother was ready in return. He moved fast and struck hard. There was no finesse to the way he moved, just pure strength. Knees. Chest. Jaws. Skulls. His kicks and hits landed perfectly eliciting cries of pain from his would-be tormentors.

Soon, all three boys lied on the ground, moaning and crying in pain. And Jaune stood over them.

A satisfied smile was on his lips.

A

Alexander was a proud father of eight. Despite their own quirks and occasional trouble, all his kids were raised to be good people who knew right from wrong. Or so he thought until now.

"What were you thinking?" Alexander asked. "No, scratch that, how did you do it?"

Jaune remained silent, refusing to meet his eyes. When Jade told him of the trouble with the Marais boy, Alexander was going to March over the Marais home and put an end to their kid's bullying.

Except for, it wasn't their son who hurt anyone this time.

"Jaune, I asked you a question," he pressed. "How did you break that kid's jaw?"

Not an easy fit, especially when Rust had his Aura unlocked. Doing something like that should have broken Jaune's hand.

"Does it matter?" Jaune whispered. "He deserved it."

"It doesn't matter if he deserved it or not! You aren't supposed to go around beating others!" Alexander snapped. "That's not how we raised you, Jaune."

He sighed, trying to get back to the more pressing issue.

"Who unlocked your Aura, Jaune?" his son's lips turned thin and he refused to meet him in the eye. "Jaune, I won't repeat myself again. Who unlocked your Aura?"

"What do you care?!" Jaune yelled, for what must have been the first time in years. "You didn't want to train me or send me to school, right? So I found someone to teach me instead."

"You weren't supposed to do that either!"

"So you would rather let me get beaten up?" the Arc patriarch winced. He didn't mean it like that. No father wanted his children to suffer. Which was why he wanted him to stay away from any trouble. "Good to know, dad."

Jaune get off the table and went to leave. "We are not finished, Jaune! Jaune!" the door slammed behind his son. "Get back here!"

He tried to go after him, but the boy was too fast. Seeing him run as fast as a horse left him with no doubt that his son had his Aura unlocked now. But who could do it?

It couldn't be those kids. Nobody from his fellow resident huntsmen would do it without getting his permission first.

But then who could have done it?

The realization hit him moments later. The chilling memories from the past resurfaced, bringing back the horror and pain he tried so desperately to forget. No... Gods above, please, anyone but him.

I need to find Jaune, Alexander took Croce Mors and left. Before it's too late.

A

"Raaar!"

Jaune slashed at his mentor, missing him by a wide margin. He turned on his heels and aimed for the man's legs but was too slow to properly attack. With one swing of a wooden replica, Vladis ended the spar.

"Something's bothering you," Vladis stated. "Trouble with your father again?"

Jaune sighed, "Yeah..." he sat down, taking a few gulps of water. "Apparently, defending myself is wrong now."

"Was it self-defense though?" the ghost asked. "Was violence absolutely the last resort in that situation?"

Jaune winced. How did he always see through him like that? "Okay, maybe it wasn't entirely self-defense," he admitted. "But that guy deserved it. He has been tormenting me for years. I just... I just wanted him to back off."

Wasn't it the right thing to do? Rust was picking on everyone ever since he started studying in Signal. Every time he came here for break, everyone had to suffer at his hands. But now he would be lying in the local hospital. And honestly why was it a bad thing?

"This power was given to us for a reason, Jaune. Leave schoolyard bullies to the real world. People like this Rust are not what you should be fighting."

He knew that. "But shouldn't I use that power to fight evil, no matter how small? It's not like I am going to ever ignore trouble only because it isn't big enough."

"That's a noble idea," Vladis agreed. "But you didn't want him to stop bothering others. You wanted to get revenge on him."

Jaune didn't try to lie. It was true. He wanted to make Rust feel like he felt. Small. Weak. Powerless.

"... I am sorry," he apologized. "I will do better next time."

"Don't feel so bad, Jaune. Life of a huntsman is not one filled with fighting Grimm only. Some day, you will be forced to take lives of other humans." Jaune flinched at the though. But, strangely, he didn't find the idea entirely wrong. "There are many bad people out there, Jaune. Those few who are beyond salvation are the ones we, sadly, have to kill."

They continued to train in silence. Jaune was still too slow and weak to actually hit Vladis, but he was getting better. Months of training were already showing their result on him. He was getting stronger. Faster.

His swordsmanship still lacked but Vladis was always there to correct his technique. In a way, it was exactly how Jaune imagined his training with dad.

They were in the middle of another spar when a single voice cut through the night air.

"JAUNE!"

Dad? What was he doing here?

"It seems your father is here," Vladis whispered, his voice strangely cold. "We shall continue your training another time."

With those words, the astral body of his ancestor banished into the air, his own sword turning into a simple silver ring on his middle finger.

A moment later, his father burst out of the woods. The momentary look of relief upon seeing him instantly turned into one of worry and fear. He had never seen dad like that before, which unnerved the teen. "Jaune, where is he?"

"Where is who, dad?" Jaune asked. Vladis asked to keep their agreement a secret. All so that his parents wouldn't stop his training.

"Jaune, please, don't lie to me," dad grabbed him by the shoulders. "Where is Vladis? Was it him who unlocked your Aura? Tell me!"

"I have no idea who you are talking about," Jaune averted his gaze. "Look, I am sorry but I don't know who this Vladis is."

He felt bad lying to dad. Not like none of them had done it before, but this lie was different. It felt far more important. And dad looked ready to snap again.

"He is dangerous, Jaune," dad whispered, as if he was afraid Vladis would hear him. "That man is not who he says he is. He is not a hero. Or a chosen one. He is a monster who had brought nothing but misery to this family."

What?

'Don't listen to him, Jaune,' Vladis' voice echoed in his mind. 'Your father lacks faith in you, as always. He doesn't trust you to make your own choices.'

"Vladis Arc was a murderer, Jaune," dad continued. Unlike Vladis, he sounded afraid. More afraid than Jaune had ever seen to be. "His hands are soaked in blood."

' Such is the life of a warrior, Jaune,' the ancestor countered. ' My hands are soaked in blood. But only of those who were beyond salvation. And those whom. I failed to save.'

"Son..." dad looked him in the eyes. "Please, speak."

'Jaune,' Vladis stood by his dad, visible only to him. 'Remember your promise. And our family creed. An Arc never goes back on his word.'

Jaune stared at two men. The one who raised him. And the one who had faith in him. Both of them waiting for him to make the choice and pick the side, even if one was unaware of the other.

He closed his eyes.

And told his dad everything.

And that's it! What did you think, guys? Worthy of your attention, I hope. I always struggle with making the right amount of words. Not too short or there will nothing to comment about. Not too long or too much time and people will just skip through certain parts.

Any questions, ask away. Any feedback is appreciated. Any suggestions for pairing are also welcome.