Issue #1

Vermilion Ash smiled as she waded through the back doors of the inn that was her residence. A small nod to the innkeeper who doubled as bartender and also her guardian. She was adjusting the corset section of her uniform, which she wore under her orange-red cloak, as she walked up to the bar. The gruff, grey-haired, man placed several beers on a tray for her.

"Yer late Mil."

"Sorry Toland. My hair didn't want to cooperate." The young girl tried to look apologetic to the man who had been looking after her for the last seven years.

"Bah! As if doing yer hair up could make ye attractive ya tomboy. Now shoo, git ter yer job!" His eyes twinkled at her, the banter being something they often played back and forth.

"Mkay T." She placed a light, chaste kiss on his cheek as he scowled and blustered against it without any real vehemence. The note on the tray said which table had ordered the beers and as she delivered it to them she was greeted by some familiar faces.

"'Eyyy! It's Mil! Wos wonderin' if you were comin' in today. The drink just don't taste the same without your pretty face."

From across the bar Toland shouted, "Keep your grubby mitts offa Vermilion! And don't go given' her no bright idea!"

Half the bar erupted into laughter at the old scene as it replayed. The man playing at being offended and getting a severe tongue lashing from Toland. Northrend didn't have a lot of entertainment so a night at Toland's was the best you'd get but everyone in town might as well have been family, it was all good fun.

Vermilion loved Toland, the man who took her in after her mother died. Helping him out every night was one of the many small ways she helped pay him back for everything he'd done for her. The old man loved to play the grump but was really just a soft-hearted person. He always enjoyed telling about the time he'd first met her mother and had helped her to Northrend. Most believed that tale to be one of his tallest, from his days as a hunter. People didn't just wander in from the Grimmlands, after all, especially not pregnant.

Eventually the argument boiled down to Toland extolling that only a man capable of braving the Grimmlands was good enough for Vermilion. She just laughed along as she went up to collect a basket full of another order. Inside it was some roast duck with wine. It was an order that was placed every week on a Friday night for Mr. Hans and his wife. They loved to celebrate the week's end and considering they run a restaurant Mr. Hans dislike cooking for it.

Pulling her hood up Vermilion strolled out into the night air, the town of Northrend still bustling with activity. Mr. Hans place was across town, a small cottage but a short walk away from the couple's establishment. Knocking on the door the young girl was greeted by the bright smile of Mrs. Hans.

"Mil, Good evening!"

"Good evening Mrs. Hans." The girl returned with a slight bow. The woman had always been good for her and her mother.

"Y'hear about the huntsman?"

"A huntsman? Here in Northrend?" Vermilion looked up, interested. One didn't get many chances to see those superhuman Huntsmen often. The girl herself wished she could be like them and not stuck here.

"Aye. A lone huntsman. Stopped by our business earlier, asked some odd questions."

Vermilions silver eyes narrowed, "Like what?"

"Oh, y'know, whether or not we'd seen a bunch of newcomers lately. Or if there'd been any disappearances."

Unease started spreading from her stomach, "You're right, Mrs. Hans. That is strange."

"Aye. Thank'ye for the food, here's the pay. You stay safe on your way home, y'hear?" Vermilion took the lien and stored it away, turning back home with an empty basket. Once again pulling her hood further over her head against the suddenly colder night air.

It was halfway there when she saw a van by the side of the road, a man had the hood up and was cussing up a storm at the inert engine. He stopped when he spotted her on the other side of the street.

"Excuse me! Can you help me? I need directions!" The man had a desperate look on his face, grease smudged along his hands. Cautiously she crossed the street, stopping a handful of feet away.

"Hello, sir. Where can I direct you?"

"Right, yes. You see I'm a traveling merchant. I have dust samples I need to get to Vale and my van seems to have had engine trouble so I was wondering if you could direct me to a mechanic?"

"Ah right, you want Mel's shop. She can fix just about anything. Head down this road five blo-" She didn't get another word off as an hand clamped over her mouth. Immediately she started thrashing but started finding her body heavy, the rag in the man's hand smelled couldn't put any strength into her grip as the man she had been speaking to moved to grab her feet. Her eyes became so heavy that she couldn't keep them open.

The next time her eyes open she was bound and gagged, shifting around on the floor. Her heart hammered in her chest as she held stock still, silver eyes taking in her surrounding. It looked like the inside of a vehicle, probably the van from before. She felt tears well up in her eyes and start streaming down her cheeks. This must be what that huntsman from before was talking about. It was then that she froze, her blood chilling, noticing one strange thing about her captors. Each had a cloth covering the lower half of their face, it was white with a red, compass-like symbol in it. A vertical, eye like symbol in the middle. The whole thank gave her chills and she started sobbing against the gag in her mouth.

"Shut that thing up!" One of the strangers shouted. One of her captors next to her slammed his boot into her head, causing stars to explode behind her eyes. After that she fought not to let her terror get the better of her. Vermilion closed her eyes focused on her breathing, one of the few things she could remember her mother drilling into her. If she was ever scared she should focus on her breathing and letting the fear go with every exhale.

It was a lesson imparted if she ever came face to face with a Grimm, but it was no less useful here. She knew she would certainly die or worse if she panicked. Keeping a cool head would be the only thing to let her exploit a chance to escape from her captors.

Suddenly the van started jumping around, her head banging painfully against the metal floor. Hands dragged her up from under her arms as the double doors to the vehicle swung open. A blurry look out revealed a woman standing there with the same cloth covering her face as the cool night air washed over her. She struggled against their firm grasp as she was bodily lifted out of the van.

Her knees hit the ground and scraped over the grass as they hauled her struggling form over to a tree. Vermilion was making it difficult on her captors because, slight as she may have been, she was still a nearly full grown woman struggling for her life. They finally had enough and delivered several sharp blows to her head and as well as several insults, among them were the word 'abomination' and 'monster'.

They lashed her hands to the tree, the rope coming around the whole circumference to bind her tightly to it. Her vision steadied and she finally saw what was around her. Twenty or so people, all wearing the same cloth over their face, the red eye staring at her from every direction she looked.

This is how I'm going to die? She thought to herself, a tightening in her throat so strict not even a sob could eek it's way out, kidnapped and facing death or something worse. Her imagination conjured up dreadful images and she flinch when a hand grasped her arm. A man had her and he looked to the others, a large, curved knife in hand.

"Brothers and sisters I welcome you to this auspicious night! As you can no doubt see after tireless work in Her name we have been rewarded!" He gestured to Vermilion, the tip of his knife tracing her cheek and drawing forth droplets of blood, "Through Her guidance and the work of the High Priestess we have found her. The silver-eyed abomination! And tonight we shall put to rest her wicked line forever and allow our Goddess to be reborn into the night!"

His voiced raised and increased in fervor, she couldn't see the man's eyes but imagined they stared into the yonder in his zeal. Her drew his hand high up into the air, blade in it's grasp. There was a flash of silver and a scream rent the air. Vermilion couldn't see anything and slowly opened the eyes she hadn't realized she had closed. There on the ground in front of her was the severed arm of the man standing next to her, a pool of scarlet around it. The man himself was in mid scream as a blade pierced his midsection, silencing him instantly until he was pushed off the blade.

Behind the man stood another, bigger man. He was tall with blond hair and bear, his sapphire eyes held a captivating fury that had Vermilion holding her breath. There was a deathly stillness in the clearing as no one dared to move out of shock. The moment, which seemed to stretch for minutes but could not have been more than a second or two, was broken as a woman shrieked.

"Infidel!"

Echoing the woman's shout the other's snapped into action, drawing various weapons. Everyone seemed to move in slow motion as the mysterious man dashed in close to the ground, sword held in both hands, as he brought it up into the guard of the closest man. The blade pierce his stomach before he could even react as several bullets pinged off the man's back like they were made of rubber. The man grimaced slightly as they hit but otherwise was unharmed as the whisper of 'huntsman' ran through the group.

Vermilion was left tied to the tree and forgotten by both parties as the group turned to deal with the new threat. Being a huntsman made him faster and stronger than the average human. One of the group, the woman who had shouted earlier, spared a glance at their captive and was rewarded with a view of her own feet as her head was severed from her body. Even though the group was spread slightly out, with the stranger's speed they were all within his reach and everyone knew it. The slightest distraction meant death.

The man dealt death with every blow. His silver sword flashed and crimson sprayed again and again. His victims would swing at him with their swords, daggers, and clubs but he would bat them away with contemptuous ease before running them through. One person was held on the end of his sword as a panicked companion unloaded his pistol into the back of the mysterious man's meat shield. The man was slain when he ran out of ammo.

Eventually the was only one man remaining and he stared with shaking hands as the blond swordsman turned towards him, twenty feet away. His eyes widened as he realized something and rushed the lone gunman but not before the gunman noticed something first. A flash and the gun was pointed directly at her. Not even time to blink and the gun went off even as the swordsman sliced into the arm holding the gun, sending it and the hand to the floor before beheading the last man.

A stinging pain blossomed in Vermilion's abdomen and she looked down and could faintly make out the red staining her brown inn-maid outfit. Her wide, silver eyes met the sapphire blue of her would-be savior as she sank to her knees, her wrist aching painfully against her bonds. She didn't even notice as he came up to her in a rush, cutting her free.

Through the fire in her stomach she dully noted how gently he was and even looking into his eyes, which a voice in the back of her mind said were striking, she saw his worry. He looked at her, an apology deep-set on his face, and finally spoke in a voice she thought was a little raspy.

"Stay still. I can help but this is going to hurt first. A lot." He pulled out a knife and cut a small stick from a nearby branch. He held it up to her mouth, "Bite on this." She did but was confused until the burning pain in her stomach was replaced with a white hot one as he dug into her wound.

It was unlike anything she had ever felt or imagined and she just wanted it to stop. The pain seemed to go on forever until, with a relief that nearby collapsed her body into a quivering mess, it stopped. Vermilions eyes rolled back and she was dripping with sweat as he laid one hand atop her wound and another lifted her head as his forehead touched to hers. His voice was a whisper but she heard it clearly.

"It is through darkness that we find the light. Through this, we become bulwarks of justice and peace to stand against all. Infinite in strength and unbound by time, I release your soul, and by my sword, defend thee."

A rush of power. That was all she could describe it as. Like a wind blowing through her soul and cool water spreading throughout her veins she could feel something spreading into her being. The burning in her stomach dulled to an ache and she felt her head clearing. The man laid her head back down and placed both hands atop her wound. Again she felt a rush of power but this was different. Like the warmth of sunlight slowly warming up her cold skin she could feel something coming from him.

Looking down she could see it in his hands, a soft white glow that flowed into her and turned into a red-orange glow before disappearing. The glow faded with the pain and she tentatively touch the wound but found none there, just a smooth expanse of skin and a hole in her clothes. If she hadn't been the one shot she would have questioned whether it had really happened or not. She looked up and met her saviour's eyes once again and said the first thing that came to mind.

"Who the fuck are you?"

Jaune helped the girl back to her village, or rather gave her a ride while avoice the constant stream of questions by promising an explanation once they were back inside Northrend. He'd left the bodies to nature. The questions dwindle as she rode on the back of his motorcycle into the village. It was just a short fifteen minute trip and she was still shaking slightly as they got off the vehicle. He ushered her into the inn where they were met by a large group of villagers who turned to stare at the pair.

An older man rushed in and drew the girl into a rugged embrace before giving Jaune a quick once over accompanied by a scowl.

"Heaven's girl what happened to ye? I was just organizin' a search after we heard what happened!"

"I'm okay Toland. I think. I… I was saved by this man. H-His name is Jaune Arc." The girl's shaking continued and echoed in her voice.

"It's okay, girl. Yer safe. Right?" The last part was addressed to Jaune, who looked the man in the eye.

"No. She's not."

Toland rounded on him, "Whaddya mean not safe!"

"She isn't safe in Northrend anymore. I.." Jaune looked at those gathered, "I believe this is a conversation best had in private."

The older man stared at Jaune for a bit and then harrumphed, turning around and waving his hands at the crowd gathered, "Inn's closed for the night. Git yer carcasses home. Vermilion is safe. Might as well spread the word."

The other men dispersed while bidding goodbye and telling Vermilion they were glad she was safe. Eventually there were only three left in the large bare: Toland, Jaune, And Vermilion. The old man pulled a char out and the three sat down, his gruff gaze never leaving Jaunes and the huntsman meeting it evenly.

"Alright, I s'pose you got some 'splaining to do?"

Jaune nodded, "Those people, the ones who kidnapped you, were part of a cult. They believe that because you have silver eyes that you are harmful to their goddess and should be killed. They will stop and nothing to do it either."

"And this goddess of theirs?" Toland spoke up.

"They call her Salem, and they believe her the mother of the Grimm."

Toland's eyes widened and Vermilion brought her hand to her mouth

"Grimmspawn worshippers?!"

"Yes. The cult is made up of zealots, they cannot be reasoned with, their fanaticism is…. Troubling."

"Why silver eyes?"

Jaune looked over to regard the young woman, her eyes were set. Angry. Understandable. She was being target for, to her, no good reason. The blond knight ran a hand through his beard, a habit he had picked up quite a few years ago.

"There's a legend about silver eyed people. The people with with silver eyes were said to be destined as warrior and had the ability to strike down Grimm with a look."

"And these freaks believe that?" Toland crossed his arms.

"They do. And so do I. These people worship the Grimm and will kill her just for having silver eyes."

"I'm old. Really old. And never in my life 'ave I heard o' this silver eyed crap."

Jaune looked him dead in the eye, "I used to be friends with one of these silver eyed warriors. You remember the Fall of Beacon."

A shadow appeared across Tolands face, "Aye. I 'member that. 'Twas a tragedy."

"The Grimm dragon that was frozen atop Beacon tower was done in by my friend. A friend who later returned and slayed the dragon."

"Shit." The older man sighed and looked up at him, a certain sympathy and understanding in his eyes that hadn't been there before, "Your friend. She was the Reaper of Beacon wasn't she?"

Jaune nodded after a moment of silence. A resignation befell the man and he looked to the young girl he had been in charge of for the past six years. The look on her face was one that pleaded for an explanation and would soon demand one if not given it.

"Well what does this mean for me?" The girl finally spoke up, practically vibrating in place as she struggled against the feeling of being left out.

"There isn't much of a choice honestly. You can stay here. Risk your life and maybe the lives of everyone around you." Her eyes and wide as she shook her head frantically from side to side, "Or you can come with me. To Beacon. There you will be protected and trained to protect yourself."

"Are… are you asking me to become a huntress? I don't even have aura!"

Jaune raised one eyebrow, "You don't? That's funny." And with incredible speed he snatched up a spoon and rapped it across her knuckles. Reflexively she pulled her hand back but then looked at her hand, there was no pain, "You do have your aura now. I had to unlock it in order to save your life. And trust me, you have a lot of it."

There was a hint of amusement in his eyes as he looked at her and she looked back to her hand. A complicated expression was on her face somewhere between excitement and trepidations, "When do we leave."

"How fast can you pack?"

She was gone and upstair in a few second and Jaune almost smiled at how much she was like Ruby, the similarity caused a dull throb in his chest which he pushed down once again. Toland turned to him and regarded him a moment.

"You were sent here for her." It wasn't a question.

"Yes. We learned of her having silver eyes and a certain professor at Beacon asked me to come and see she was safe. We knew she would be in danger if we learned of her, so did they."

Toland hummed as the conversation fell off and a half-hour later the girl appeared with a backpack fit to burst. She stood in front of Toland, now that she was changed into an outfit with pants and a corset, her namesake cloak over her shoulders with her hood pushed down. Standing like that Jaune was sure she shared ancestry with Ruby Rose, they both cut the same figure. Vermilion was much taller however.

She embraced Toland as he grumbled at her, making sure she packed everything she might need, "I never really told you, Mil, but you were always like a daughter ta me."

"Same to you Toland. I might've never had a father but with you I didn't need one." Tears welled up in her eyes, "When I'm done I'll come back and see you."

"You do that, girl. I'll be here waitin' for ye."

Jaune waited at the door for them to say their goodbyes. The scene reminding him of his farewell to his family, decades ago. Memories like that came to him here and there, the older he got. He found himself staring at the youth and remember his. His first date with Ruby, Ren and Nora's wedding. The others' happy memories. And then the crushing realization that they weren't here anymore his him. So few had made it to this age with him and they were scattered across Remnant.

Every few years they got together to hold remembrance to the old days and those who fell but Jaune found it harder and harder to face Yang as the years progress. He looked at Vermilion as she skipped up to him and led her out the door over to where his motorcycle, Silverhawk, was waiting. And didn't he regret letting Yang name it. Her face was shifting between nervous excitement, sadness, and worry rapidly and he couldn't help but keep drawing comparisons to Ruby.

He swung his legs over it as the vehicle hummed to life. Vermilion place a hand to the center of her chest and closed her eyes as if she was praying but opened them a second later and climbed in behind him, wrapping her arms around him.

"I always wanted to be a huntress," She said barely loud enough for him to hear, "Just like Mom."

Without another word Jaune opened the throttle on the motorcycle and the pair sped off into the night in the direction of Beacon Academy.

A/N: Well here it is. My second fic, Old Man Jaune. This fic will not be updated regularly, but only in the sense that it wont be weekly, I do intend to be working on this constantly. I really hope you like this and I am optimistic because this will give me a lot more freedom to tell my own narrative. I guess only time will tell.

Thank you for reading and I hope we get along.