AN: The chapter shown here is the revised version made for the continuation story. If you're looking for the original one-shot, it can be found on spacebattles. Some of the crack has been sacrificed in the conversion—I believe it was necessary to improve longevity. Hopefully it's still enjoyable.

Special thanks to Bitter End for volunteering to beta.

Jaune the Skeptic — Chapter 1: "The Ace of Swords"

A lone sword pierces an obscure sky: a beacon crowned, yet double-edged.

Once upon a time, Jaune Arc had been told this was his card. He had been just a little boy—a boy who had, against his better judgement, given five lien to a traveling mystic.

Her name was Madame Amarantha Sosostris. She came into town in caravan, set up shop, and gave fortunes to anyone who bothered to speak with her. Nomads were rare in this corner of Remnant, so more than a few people did at first. In a week or so the town's collective curiosity was satisfied and people stopped visiting.

Time turned. Days became weeks and weeks became a month, yet still she lingered. Many assumed she planned to settle down. Life on the roads was harsh and dangerous. Some offered her jobs around town, but she declined them all politely. She said she would be leaving soon, when the time was right. It was clear that she was waiting on something.

Or someone.

Jaune loitered around the wagon for quite some time, building his courage. Normally he would never go off on his own to talk to a stranger, but he had burning questions. Jaune wasn't sure how, but he knew the mysterious woman had answers. A voice whispered in the back of his mind, telling him so.

Perhaps it was the words painted on her wagon: "Answers to Burning Questions at Reasonable Prices!"

Jaune thought she looked strange, when he finally went up to her. She was surprisingly beautiful, but that wasn't her most notable feature.

"You…have red eyes," he said, peering up at her.

"And you," she leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "have blue eyes! How nostalgic." She giggled.

"What's it like having red eyes?" This wasn't the question he had come to ask, but he couldn't help himself.

"They get a bit dry but I'm getting used to them," she smirked. "Hello, by the way. I was wondering when you would show up."

"Y-y-you were expecting me? How?" Jaune said timidly.

"So young, yet already so full of questions, aren't you?" she put a finger to her lips. "I suppose I sensed your aura. Even locked away its strength is unmistakable. I recognized it the moment I entered town."

"What's aura?"

"You don't know? Ah, I forgot…just how young you were, for a moment. Aura is the soul manifested," she said sagely.

"Many-fisted?"

"I can explain it better after the reading…" her face morphed into a complex grimace. "Maybe. For now, think of it as a type of magic. Yours being so large means you are destined for great things. You believe in destiny, yes?"

Jaune nodded along. He liked this woman. She was funny. And his family had never told him he had a destiny before. He was learning so much today!

"Before we continue though, my fee." She gestured towards a sign next to her. It said "Fortunes: 5 Lien. Nonrefundable."

Jaune suddenly liked this woman a lot less, but it didn't surprise him that destinies cost money. He had come prepared though. He gave her three one Lien bills, four quarters, and 100 pennies. It took awhile to get all the change from his pocket, but the fortuneteller was patient. When the last penny was counted she ushered him in through the wagon's open door.

"My name is Jaune Arc," he said proudly as she sat him on a chair opposite her.

"Arc!?" Madame Sosostris said melodramatically. "Jaune Arc," she repeated the name to herself. She chewed it over slowly, like she was tasting it. "Short, sweet, rolls off the tongue." She paused to throw some crystal dice in a bowl. "Ladies will love it," she announced.

"Really!?" young Jaune asked.

"Hmmm…," she frowned and looked at the bowl again. Why did she need to double-check? "Redheads will, at least," she said after a long moment.

"Let's move on. As you already know, I am Amarantha Sosostris. I have been blessed with unique…insights into the future." She dug through a drawer until she found a deck of cards, which she spread out on the table before him.

"The type of reading I will do today is a very special one. With these cards I can determine the nature of your soul—and the one that is selected will be your card, a representation of who you are and what you'll become. A portent of your destiny."

"Will I get to keep it?"

"I suppose you can have it as a freebie. I have extras. But first, I need you to touch each of these. It will help them attune to your aura."

Jaune didn't see how that would do anything, but he did as instructed.

Once he touched the last card Sosostris collected them into her hand, closed her eyes, and began shuffling at inhuman speeds. She chanted arcane words under her breath, and the cards began glowing red.

Jaune was starting to have second thoughts about having a destiny. What if his card wasn't the right one? As Sosostris continued to shuffle, he made a silent prayer.

Something in the world shifted ever so slightly, and then the threads of fate unravelled.

An unnatural wind swept through the cramped compartment and the wagon began shaking violently. What looked to be some kind of censer or lamp rattled off a shelf and fell to the floor with a crash.

Jaune was frightened. The air had been still outside and his town never got earthquakes. Was this magic?

Suddenly Sosostris stopped her chanting and the wagon stilled. She did an impressive spring flourish. As the cards landed in her opposite hand, one stayed in the air, held aloft by an eerie red force. It gently floated down onto the table between them, face up. Jaune leaned over to look at it.

The Ace of Swords.

It had to be a good card, right? It meant he would be a sword-wielding ace-huntsman, right? For a moment Jaune felt hope. Maybe he could really do it—he could become a hero.

"What does it mean?" he said in hushed awe.

"AAAGGGHHH!" Madame Sosostris shrieked, clutching her head. Then she launched herself out the window.

Stunned, Jaune ran outside. The woman started ripping apart the wagon with her bare hands. Blood gushed from the glass embedded in her arms as she frothed at the mouth. And just when Jaune thought things couldn't get any worse, storm clouds appeared above them and a bolt of lightning struck the wagon. The force threw him on his back. When he looked up again, the wagon was burning and the Madame loomed over him.

I was wrong! he screamed in mental horror. I don't like this lady at all!

Pacing before the burning fire, Madame Sosostris ranted and raved. She spoke of wizards, a dark immortal sorceress who controlled the Grimm, maidens, relics, an impending apocalypse, and a host of other things that sounded entirely unbelievable, even to eight-year-old Jaune's naive ears.

Some townspeople tried to calm her down, but she was inconsolable. Eventually a police officer tackled her to the ground. She screamed hysterically as they dragged her away: "Jaune! Jaune Arc! REMEMBEr this day! ReMEmber!"

Jaune sat there crying for what felt like ages, but was probably at most a minute. Someone had gone to fetch his parents. When his mom and dad arrived, he was a red-faced mess of snot and tears.

"Oh, sweetie. Calm down. Mom's here." His mother wiped his face. His dad went around asking the onlookers what had happened.

"Why did she do that?" Jaune gasped when he could finally form coherent words.

"She was sick, Jaune." His father said gruffly. "She wasn't well in the head."

"Will she get better?" He didn't like her anymore, but she had been so nice before she went crazy.

"Oh, sweetie." His mom hugged him. "She'll get the help she needs. But are you okay? Did she do anything to you?"

"She said weird things to me. And she used magic."

"Best just forget about it all," his father said, scratching the back of his head. "She's a fraud."

"But the lightning! And the strange lights!"

"Smoke and mirrors, son," his father said gently. "She probably had special effects set up to make her scam more believable. None of what she said or did was real."

"All of it?" said Jaune with wide eyes. He didn't have a destiny? It had all been lies?

"Yes, sweetie," his mother nodded. "Magic doesn't exist. She was trying to trick you, but it's okay now. We're here and you're fine." His mother hugged him tighter.

His parents misunderstood why this caused him to cry even harder. They probably thought he was relieved. The truth was the opposite.

It wasn't until they took him home that Jaune realized he had been clutching the Ace of Swords in his hand the entire time. He decided to keep the card, and he carried it with him always. Partly because it served as a reminder of that darkest day of his childhood. Also because he paid five lien for it. That was a lot of money when he was eight.

Jaune could have drawn any number of life lessons from the experience. "If something sounds too good to be true, then it probably is," was the one he settled on.

That's why Jaune could not—did not—believe that his plan to cheat his way into Beacon was going so smoothly. Not for a second.

Headmaster Ozpin was a paragon of shrewdness and intelligence. He was the de facto leader of the huntsmen academies scattered across Remnant, and by extension the leader of all huntsmen everywhere. That a single man could do so much work and wield so much power boggled the mind.

Jaune knew his transcripts couldn't hold up to serious inspection—he had been banking on an underpaid administrator evaluating his application. So when he received a letter of acceptance, written and signed by Ozpin himself, saying that he was 'very impressed' by his transcripts and 'particularly moved' by the application essay, Jaune knew the enigmatic headmaster was up to something.

Still, the bullhead ticket voucher in his admissions packet was genuine. He had confirmed as much when he refunded it for lien at a travel agency and sat out for Vale on foot. If his acceptance was an elaborate set up, he wasn't going to be played for a fool. He would get some things out of this charade at the very least, even if it were just free equipment and an excuse to leave home.

Jaune sighed as he repositioned himself on the tree branch, swatting away another leaping beowolf with Crocea Mors. Fighting Grimm without training would be easier with a firearm, but every blacksmith he had come across was a front for some kind of scam. All they had were mechashifting "gun-swords" and collapsible gatling guns.

Jaune may not have been an engineer, but he wasn't an idiot. There was no way such weapons were practical. Surely they broke down, jammed, and misfired constantly. He laughed in the store owners' faces and showed himself out.

"Phonies," Jaune grunted underneath his breath. A beowolf yelped as Jaune finally managed to connect Crocea Mors with its eye. One down, twenty to go.

Jaune regarded his ancestral blade, lost in thought. But then a whisper in the back of his mind prompted him to switch to a different branch. He barely avoided a swipe from a beowolf which snapped off the branch he previously occupied. It fell into the pack of prowling Grimm below.

He would play Ozpin's game of cat and mouse for now, but man, not being gullible was tough. And scary. Really, really scary.

Jaune sighed as he resumed clumsily poking away at the Grimm.

/ - /

In the highest room of the tallest tower of Beacon Academy, Headmaster Ozpin sipped hot cocoa as he looked out over his school and the City of Vale beyond. He had a reputation for always having his signature mug in hand, which most people assumed was filled with coffee. This supported the common belief that he worked tirelessly and without rest for the good of Remnant. He felt no desire to correct this misunderstanding. The busier he seemed, the less work people gave him.

Actually, much of my work seems to do itself these days, Ozpin mused as he took another sip from his mug. The new school year would be starting soon though, so he had been busier than normal.

Ozpin rubbed his head. With each passing moment he put less and less effort into the act. If he could walk away from it all without consequence he would, but he knew it could never be so simple. This being the case, he allotted at least half his day to cocoa breaks.

"Ahem," a voice behind him coughed.

Turning around, Ozpin was met with the familiar face of Glynda Goodwitch, the Deputy Headmistress of his esteemed academy. She had deep bags under her eyes, which combined with her frown and furrowed eyebrows set off many alarm bells in Ozpin's mind.

"Glynda, forgive me. I was so lost in thought about Qrow's latest dispatch that I didn't notice you entering," Ozpin lied shamelessly. He was using one of his go-to excuses for when Glynda caught him slacking off. Her expression softened, so it seemed to have worked.

"Has he made any progress tracking down Amber?"

"He is close, Glynda. He should reach her soon, and then they'll return here and the matter will be settled."

"That's a relief. I realize that your plans with Qrow and our conflict with the Enemy takes precedence over your duties as Headmaster, but between preparing for the new school year, managing all of your diplomatic communications, and preparing for the Vytal Festival…Well, I'm feeling a little ragged." Glynda smiled tiredly. "It will truly be a relief to have you managing your share of the administrative work again."

Ozpin was panicking. There had been a time once, before Glynda had joined the staff at Beacon, when he had done his own paperwork. It hadn't seemed so bad back then, but he had grown used to the life of leisure that offloading his work on Glynda made possible. Faced with the prospect of returning to those days of working like dog and barely sleeping…well, he would rather move back in with his ex-wife than do that.

"I'm afraid it's not so simple, Glynda…"

"Is there something wrong?" Glynda adopted her trademark inquisitive scowl. He would need a convincing excuse to get her off his back this time. The gears of his mind whirled like the clockwork machinery that composed his office.

"I'm sure you've been wondering why Qrow and I have gone through so much trouble to recall Amber," said Ozpin.

"It's crossed my mind. I figured you weren't comfortable with her roaming around unsupervised anymore."

"Yes, well, that's part of the reason. But there is another, more pressing development that spurred the decision."

"And what would that be?" said Glynda.

"It has to do with one of those other tasks you mentioned…" Ozpin stalled. His tongue felt dry.

"You don't mean—" Glynda's eyes widened in realization. "The Vytal Festival?"

"Yes, nothing gets past you." Ozpin sighed in a mixture of relief and self-disgust. He was outsourcing even his lies to Glynda now. Still, he could work with this. "I have reason to believe—nothing definite mind you—that the Enemy will be using the festival to make a move in Vale."

"An attack on the city?" asked Glynda.

"Most likely," Ozpin nodded gravely. "I believe they plan to demoralize the populace and spread general panic. Recalling Amber was only one of a number of countermeasures I have already begun to implement." He paused for a moment, trying to put as much false remorse in his voice as possible. "With things as they are, I'm afraid I must impose on you a little longer. These preparations will take the majority of my waking hours, and perhaps a fair number of my sleeping ones as well."

Glynda's face morphed through a series of emotions as Ozpin broke the news, eventually settling on resignation. "I…understand. It can't be helped. Maybe I can get Peter and Bartholomew to help with the Beacon-related work at least."

Ozpin sipped hot cocoa. "You should do that. Tell them that I have requested their assistance in these matters, and that all of you will be compensated for the overtime." It was a mostly empty promise since Glynda managed the payroll. She could pay herself whatever she wanted and Ozpin would be none the wiser.

"Noted sir. At any rate, my paperwork problems weren't the only reason I came here. I have some recent updates on Grimm activity to report."

"Go on," Ozpin gestured for her to continue.

"There has been a notable drop in Grimm sightings and encounters on the road northeast of the city. It seems like someone has been through there culling all of the minor Grimm."

"One of ours?"

"No, not a licensed huntsman at least. I've made a few calls on the CCT and the nearby settlements say it was a teenager named Jaune Arc."

"Jaune Arc…that name sounds familiar," Ozpin said while tapping his fingers together. Then he caught the tense look on Glynda's face. Shit, he wasn't out of the woods yet.

"It should. He applied to Beacon for the upcoming school year, but his transcripts had a number of inconsistencies. I set his aside with a few other suspect applications to have you review. You. Did. Look. Over. Them. Right?" The audible punctuation sounded like nails on a chalkboard.

Ozpin winced. He had thought those applications were the special recruits. He sent them congratulatory letters and an assortment of equipment and travel vouchers to incentivize their attendance. It was basically his only contribution to this year's admissions process.

"Of course I looked over it! Jaune Arc, I remember now. I made a few CCT calls and decided to grant him admission. Forgive me, I'm so exhausted from security matters that his name slipped my mind for a moment."

Glynda looked at him skeptically before nodding slightly. "Very well. If you had asked me, I would have said his transcripts were forgeries. But if you had them referenced then I guess I was wrong." Glynda rubbed her eyes for a moment and turned around. "I must resume my own work I suppose. Try to not overwork yourself, Headmaster."

"Thank you, Professor. And you as well. Try to get some sleep, when you can," replied Ozpin.

After she had left the office, Ozpin leaned back in his chair in contemplation.

Maybe I should look over Mr. Arc's application after all. Glynda isn't usually wrong about these things. He opened his desk drawer, causing a great flood of unfinished paperwork to spill out over the floor.

On second thought, I'll wait to meet him in person. Ozpin began shoving the mound of papers back into his desk. The Arcs are a famous line of huntsmen after all. And transcripts aside, if he's killed so many Grimm to be worth a report he's probably qualified. Probably.

Ozpin felt quite stressed after his conversation with Professor Goodwitch. Perhaps it was time for another break. He got up from his desk to make another cup of cocoa.

/ - /

It was a typical morning on the road to Vale. Overcast. Foggy. Nothing particularly interesting to look at save some mountains in the distance.

Jaune sported a few nasty scars, and his left forearm was definitely fractured. His once shiny armor looked like it had been through a shredder, especially after the fracture made wielding his shield impossible. He really needed to stop blocking attacks with his body…

At any rate, he had some experience fighting Grimm now, so in that sense this cross-country hike had been worthwhile. Despite his misgivings about Ozpin's letter, he found himself looking forward to reaching Vale. It would be a welcome change of pace from roaming around picking fights with beowolves.

Feeling bored, Jaune rummaged through his pack and took out a pamphlet entitled 'Dust for Dummies and Other Inadequate Individuals'. Some of the vouchers in his admissions packet had been for dust, so he exchanged them for a basic supply at the last town he passed through. For some reason the shop owner insisted that he take one of these pamphlets before he left.

Reading it again was pointless since Jaune had already memorized it, but it was the only thing he had to read. He had used all the X-Ray and Vav comics he brought along as fire tinder, and he didn't have the lien to buy any more.

Dust seemed strange to Jaune. He had studied some of its theoretical applications, but he could never afford his own supply. Why was something so prohibitively expensive and difficult to mine the main power source of all the kingdoms? Surely renewable energy sources like wind and solar power would have been more practical.

The majority of Remnant's dust supply came from Solitas. If something blocked trade routes out of Atlas, like a series of major Grimm attacks, the other kingdoms' dust-based infrastructure would collapse as soon as their reserves ran out. The whole situation reeked of corporate manipulation.

"Could it be that the SDC…?" Jaune wondered aloud. It was worth investigating when he got to the city at least. Information would be less scarce there.

This wasn't Jaune's only problem with dust of course. Why did water dust produce water and fire dust produce fire? One was a molecule and the other was a chemical process. And then there were famous unsolved mysteries, like why dust stopped functioning in the upper atmosphere. Hell, the substance was so poorly understood that it might as well be magic.

Jaune's train of thought derailed abruptly as he clenched his right hand. "But magic isn't real," he spat in rage. Just the thought of it reminded him of all the lies he discovered after the fortuneteller incident. Santa Claus. The Tooth Fairy. Pro wrestling. None of it was real. But he wouldn't be fooled again—not by lies of society. Nowadays he could spot fakes and phonies from a mile away.

It was then that Jaune heard a low growl behind him, and it came from much closer than a mile away. Turning around, he found himself face to face with an ursa major.

Jaune bravely screamed like a little girl and calmly implemented his primary battle strategy: run to a tree, climb said tree, and poke away at the mean Grimm until he got a lucky hit or it got bored and left.

It wasn't long before Jaune realized that the "climbing a tree and poking the Grimm's eyes" strategy was less effective against ursa. For one, the lumbering Grimm could probably knock the tree over with little effort. For two, Jaune belatedly remembered that bears could climb trees.

"Why me?" he moaned.

He rummaged through his pack and pulled out a metal case. Pulling it open, his clammy fingers wrapped around a vial of powered dust. He didn't expect it to do much, but it might give him some time to think.

"Here goes nothing!" Jaune shouted as he threw the vial, which shattered upon hitting the large Grimm.

To his surprise, the dust did do something.

The explosion didn't incinerate the ursa major completely, but it did blow off half its body. He knew not to feel bad for a Grimm, but its death screams were haunting.

Eventually Jaune pulled his eyes away from the charred, burning corpse back to the metal canister that held his dust. He had used one red vial. The canister had three more such vials, and just as many of every other color.

"They sell this stuff to kids!? Without background checks?" he said in disbelief.

It was then that he noticed the fire from the corpse was spreading.

"Typical," he muttered.

/ - /

Some distance away, a young woman and her horse observed a rising stack of smoke. A wild fire, by the looks of it.

Better take a detour… she thought to herself. With a flex of her power she summoned a rain cloud over the burning forest, and then turned around to backtrack to the last fork in the road.

/ - /

A shorter distance away, Cinder and her allies stared down an empty road, waiting.

She suspected something had gone amiss when she heard an explosion in the distance.

This suspicion only grew when that same explosion had apparently set the nearby underbrush aflame, starting a wildfire that quickly encroached on her position.

Emerald addressed her from the road. "Um Cinder, I don't think she's coming. And that fire is getting pretty close. Shouldn't we move?"

"She probably saw the smoke," said Mercury. "Best just cut our losses."

Cinder thought of all the work and planning that had gone into this ambush. They had spent weeks tracking the Fall Maiden in order to predict her exact route to Vale. They had waited carefully until the Maiden went down a road that received next to no foot traffic. They strategically picked this spot, as distant as possible from any settlement, to ensure their battle would have no witnesses.

Everything had been accounted for. This was to be her grand triumph—the first real step on her path to power, so why? Why had everything gone wrong?

"Cinder, come on, snap out of it!" Emerald was shaking her now. "The Maiden's not coming. We have to leave, now."

The fire had gotten so close that it nearly surrounded them. She could feel its heat, and her eyes stung from the smoke.

"It's fine," Cinder said, gazing up at the ash-filled sky where a crow flew overhead. They would have to find what detour the Maiden took, but being so close to Vale they might not get a second chance.

"What is she saying!?" shouted Mercury over the roar of the fire. He was already running away.

"This is fine," Cinder repeated mechanically. But it wasn't.

Then it started to rain.

/ - /

"It's fine," Ruby Rose sighed. She was on her back, staring up at the sky.

Being abandoned by her sister, exploding, and getting yelled at by the crabby girl wasn't that bad of a first day. And hey, the sun was shining.

"This is fine," Ruby repeated mechanically.

"Are you a robot?" someone whispered off to her side.

Startled, she turned to see a young man crouching a few feet away, his blue eyes regarding her suspiciously. The obvious tension in his posture made him seem like a battle-hardened veteran—an impression supported by the cuts and scrapes and burns which covered his body and armor.

"Huh?"

"You survived that dust explosion, even though it took out a chunk of the pavement. The only things I've seen withstand explosions like that are really strong Grimm and Atlesian droids, and you're too cute to be a Grimm."

"Huh?" Ruby repeated. Then she parsed what he had said and turned a deep shade of crimson. "W-w-what are you saying!? I'm a human!"

The man's eyes narrowed for a moment before relenting. "Okay. I'll trust you for now. If you're lying though, I'll find out. Nobody fools for me for very long." He held out a hand to help her up.

Dazed, Ruby accepted it and got off the ground. She brushed herself off before turning to face the man.

"The name's Jaune by the way. Jaune Arc. Short. Sweet. Rolls off the tongue—" his voice drawled as he stared at her head.

"Is there something on my face?"

"No, no. Weird question: do you dye the tips of your hair? Actually, don't answer that. Dumb question. What I meant was: what's your name?" Jaune scratched the back of his head, cringing at himself.

Strangely, Ruby felt a bit relieved. Finally, someone more awkward than her!

"My name is Ruby Rose. And to answer your other question, no, they're like that naturally."

"Ruby then? Nice to meet you," he replied as he stared thoughtfully at the blast marks in the pavement. "Sorry about asking if you were a robot before. But just how did you survive that blast?"

"Oh, something like a small explosion isn't a big deal for a true huntress." Ruby puffed out her chest. "Well, huntress-in-training. We have aura and semblances and stuff. Anyway, why weren't you on the ship? Are you an initiate too? And your armor looks pretty beat up, and is that a sword—"

"Wait a minute," Jaune held up a hand to stop Ruby before fixing her with a penetrating gaze. "Aura? What are you on about?"

"Huh?" said Ruby dumbly.

/ - /

What followed was one of the most frustrating arguments Ruby had ever had, and it was still going!

"Look, see, if I punch my own arm it glows red and I take no damage!"

"You're obviously pulling your punches," Jaune retorted dismissively.

"Then hit me!"

"Listen, I know you're committed to this charade, but I'm not going to punch you at full strength. I could get in trouble for something like that…"

"This is a combat school! One of our classes is literally punching each other!" said Ruby.

"Sounds like an insurance nightmare," said Jaune, still unconvinced.

"What about my semblance then? A normal person can't possibly move that fast. And look at all the rose petals."

"Yeah, I haven't figured that out to be honest." Jaune surveyed the courtyard. Ruby had ran around for five minutes demonstrating her semblance, leaving the area covered in a layer of rose petals. "You could fake the super speed with Atlesian hologram technology and some special dust effects. Not sure about the rose petals though. Do you carry a bag of them that you throw on the ground while I'm not looking?" Jaune rubbed his chin.

"No! Come on! That sounds ridiculous!" Ruby stamped her foot and pouted.

"Exactly. That you would go to such lengths…well, I applaud your dedication. Still, I'm not falling for it. I'm not an idiot."

Ruby seriously doubted that claim.

"Look, about this 'aura'," Jaune made air quotes as he said the word. "You're saying that it acts as a shield, enhances speed and strength, passively boosts regeneration, and gives you a 'semblance' on top of all that? If it's so powerful and useful, why doesn't everyone use it?"

"There are reasons for that! Laws! Didn't you learn them in school?" said Ruby, raising her arms in exasperation.

"Oh, really? I must have been conveniently sick that week," said Jaune with a patronizing roll of his eyes. "I should probably mention I'm from a line of well-known huntsmen too. If this 'aura' is something that all huntsmen use, why haven't they told me a thing about it?"

"That…no…but that doesn't make any sense!"

"No, it doesn't," said Jaune. "Look, I'm not disagreeing with you for the fun of it. It's just that 'aura' sounds, well, too good to be true." Ruby watched as Jaune looked down at his right hand. Was that a card he was holding?

"If there is one thing I know, it's this: if something sounds too good to be true, then it probably is." For the briefest of moments an emotion flashed across his face. Sorrow?

Who hurt you? Ruby wondered. What happened to you, to make you like this?

"I have to hand it to you though, you're a wily one Ruby Rose. If being a huntress doesn't work out you have a promising career as a stage magician. I've only met one person better than you. You have talent!"

"MmmmMMMMmmMm!" Ruby shrieked into her closed mouth. Give me back my sympathy!

She debated leaving him then and there. Still, in his own stupid way, this boy was trying to be friendly. I guess there's one last thing I could try…

"I see now nothing I say can convince you, because you're a big stupid dummy head," said Ruby, muttering the last part under her breath. "But I can do one more thing to prove it to you."

"And what would that be?"

"Could you…close your eyes?" said Ruby shyly.

"Um…no offense, but isn't that a cliché start? Your audience is more likely to suspend disbelief if th—"

"Will you do it or not?" she said irritably.

"Uh, yes. Sorry." Jaune closed his eyes.

Taking a deep breath to relax herself, Ruby pressed a hand against his chest.

"Ack! Careful with ribs! Some of them are bruised," he grunted.

"Oh, sorry! Um…stay still." Ruby closed her eyes and reached for her aura. The pair began glowing with an eerie red light.

"It is with courage that we inherit the dreams of those who rest, and bright our souls must burn to accept this royal test. I release your soul, and by my shoulder, beg you to stop being a dummy."

Ruby hadn't unlocked anyone's aura before, so she had to improvise the words. The chant wasn't so much necessary as traditional anyway.

There was an audible snap in Jaune's ribs and arm as his fractures were suddenly healed in a burst of white light.

"AGH!" Jaune panted heavily for a few moments, staring dumbfounded at his glowing hands. "I…I can't believe it! This is incredible! This is aura? I have aura!?"

"Now do you believe me? Can you stop being stupid, please?" Ruby felt a bit faint. Unlocking someone's aura took a lot out of her, and the day had been stressful enough as it was.

"I…I don't know what to say. You have no idea what this means to me. I'm sorry," Jaune bowed his head in shame.

Ruby: 1; Dummy: 0.

"Don't mention it," said Ruby with a small smile. She hoped making new friends didn't always require this much effort. At least now they could talk about something else.

"So, I have this!" Ruby pulled out her baby, Crescent Rose.

"W-whoa, is that a scythe?"

"It's also a customizable high-impact sniper rifle," she said proudly.

Rather than the admiration she expected, Jaune looked troubled. "Oh no! I'm so sorry," he said.

"Huh?" said Ruby, a feeling of dread welling within her. What was he on about now?

Jaune placed a consolatory hand on her shoulder. "I'm so sorry," he said gravely. "You were scammed."

"Huh?"