Author's Notes:

So it's come to this… a Master Qrow story… I only have one word.

...

Yikes.

The whole Qrow training Jaune schtick. I've seen a couple of stories around the concept - but ultimately less represented than I would have thought. Sort of surprised me really.

Fair warning though, there will be two OC's introduced who may or may not be important and there is also a pretty major timeskip to the start of Beacon. However, that's not to say the misadventures of Qrow and Jaune will go unwritten; I plan to add them to the end of chapters where they seem appropriate as `omakes` but not really omakes since they have pretty important character interactions between the two.

Now I hear you asking, `well, why don't you just add them as their own separate chapters before Beacon starts? ` and I would like to respond with a story called `Shattered Arc`, which is another Master Qrow story that I highly recommend that you read. Unfortunately, it can't be found on this website anymore - but it's the internet; you'll find it somewhere.

This story also skipped adding the Qrow training segments and instead implemented them while telling the main plot of the story.

At least that's how I remember it...

I guess a difference would be that he flashes back in the middle of the chapter, whereas I am to do it at the end where I can help it..? We'll just have to see how it plays out.

Enjoy the first chapter of `Under the Wing of a Blackbird`, criticism and pointing out my mistakes is always welcome!

Disclaimer: I really like Coeur Al'Aran's OC cast of the Arc family, so I try to take inspiration from them in both name and action. Thanks, Coeur!

Chapter 1: Prologue, Fires of Beginning

In all the shows he watched and all the comics he read, Jaune always thought running away from home would be a journey filled with adventure, excitement, general badassery and a large harem of various women with impressive assets that he would meet along the way.

…It's probably best the type of media he consumed remained unknown, but suffice to say - it was a pretty big pain in the ass so far. Nights where he couldn't put up his tent the right way until the birds sang the next morning, dwindling supplies of Pumpkin Pete cereal in his backpack and the constant homesickness that plagued him, all spelt for a pretty unpleasant experience.

…

Man, this sucked.

So imagine the teen's relief when he stumbled out of the bushes of the greenery and laid his eyes on a small settlement currently bustling with working people.

Ugh, finally. It's been a week since he saw any actual people, so it was refreshing to see that civilization hasn't crumbled in the time he was away. Because that would be inconvenient.

Who would there be for him to save then?

Shrugging his armour-plated shoulder to give his backpack a better position, Jaune Arc began to meld into the crowd of busy villagers intent to refill his supplies and refuel his energy.

"Hey, sorry sir, but could you point me to the nearest inn?" Jaune held up his hand to a passerby as he asked. He expected tonight would be a good night's rest for a change and couldn't wait to feel the warmth of a bed's sheets.

What he didn't expect was for the man he questioned to give him the stink eye, pausing in his tracks to do so, before continuing with a sour expression.

The blond's hand remained in the air as he began to feel small droplets of water form on his forehead. How embarrassing… the thought of getting ignored in front of so many people made heat rush to his face. Was it something he said?

But no matter! Jaune was to be an amazing and heroic huntsman, what was a little social interaction to him?

"Could you tell me-"

"Sorry but-"

"Is there a-"

Every. Single. Time. Every single time he tried to get information from somebody, they would look at him like he was an insect before taking off. Sure, Jaune mostly stayed inside and played video games so his social stats were exactly up-to-par but even he knew this wasn't a problem with him.

The only logical conclusion was this was a town full of douchebags.

Yes.

Jaune internally contemplated his current situation and externally sighed, taking a seat on an old, mostly broken crate on the side of the cobbled road. It's not like he couldn't just walk around until he found a place to sleep, the town wasn't all that big after all; it was just he thought he should make an effort to interact with people more after getting out of the house.

Gods knew his sisters would always get on his case about not having any friends and being a general socially inept potato.

Out of nowhere, he felt a strong hand on his shoulder. Instinctively, he turned to meet what it connected to. An average looking man with a beard smiled at him. So average you could have probably been good friends with him and still walk by him on the streets without noticing the guy, Jaune notioned.

"Heard you've been looking for an inn, bucko. If you want, I can show you the way to one travellers here normally stay at." The man said.

Jaune's expression lit up slightly at the man's kindness. His eldest sister, Sapphire, always told him not to talk to strangers but eat your heart out dear sister; not everyone is some drugged up thief only coming up to you to mug you.

/-/

Air was expelled from Jaune's lungs after a knee came to his solar plexus, brutally connecting and leaving him on the ground. Both of his arms wrapped around his midsection in a futile attempt to quell the immense pain and lack of oxygen. Instead, he sputtered and coughed violently as another person sent a kick to the side of the young teen's head leaving him sprawled to the side.

"Heheheh… say, kid… you must be a special breed of idiot if you trusted some random guy who came up to you promising ya' shit." A grimy voice came from an average face. The same average face that brought Jaune down this deep, dark alleyway filled with the smell faeces, urine and… blood. It was a miracle Jaune could even use his nose.

Sadly, it was the only miracle it looked like he was going to get.

A chorus of laughter echoed across the broken brick walls as another stomp from somebody else came to his stomach. Puke threatened to burst from Jaune's mouth. Puke or blood, one or the other. But he had to fight back, he had to live! He had so much to do and vowed too much to die like this.

With all his strength, Jaune reached for his weapon, the Arc family's blade, Crocea Mors - who's form lay a metre from him. A jolt of pain came through his left hand as a boot crashed down onto his wrist like thunder.

With all of his voice, Jaune screamed in torment, feeling the bones snap. Who knew man was so fragile?

A now familiar voice whistled, "That's a nice looking sword you got there. Nothing too fancy, but it looks pretty vintage. Would go well on the market. Your grandpappy give you this for your birthday or something?"

Even under the mercy of half a dozen grown men, Jaune's blood boiled in anger at the mishandling of his family heirloom. That sword was used to save so many people's lives in the hundreds of years since its birth… how dare he treat it like some item he can just pawn off! "Put. The sword down. Or I swear to the Gods I'll- ARRRGH!"

"Sorry, what was that?" the man taunted, now passing off the sword to one of his accomplices. "I don't understand little bitch. Why don't you-" he paused, raising his head to see a figure at the end of the alleyway. The body and face of the intruder were shadowed by the light coming inwards. "Who the hell are you?"

It remained silent.

The leader of the group inclined his head to the shadowy figure, prompting one of his goons to charge - his fist ready to strike. Running towards the light, his footing mixed up, leading him to fall flat on his face into a small pile of dog faeces just in front of his target. He made to get up, only for the sole of a black shoe to stomp the unexpecting man back down into is as he ground his face in shit.

For around ten seconds the gesture continued as the victim made vain pursuits to stop his assaulter until the initial shock wore off and the rest of the men charged without rhyme or reason, completely forgetting about the mangled boy they left deeper in the darkness behind them.

With an exhausted sigh, less so from the physical activity and more so about what he had to now do, the figure gave his floored victim a final shove into the ground before stepping forward and bashing the man unfortunate to be the fastest of the pack.

Only a single punch. Straight into the nose, the poor man was sent flying backward into one of his comrades out cold who struggled to escape the weight of his body. Next, he dismantled another with a swift kick to the legs, knocking another goon down from the lack of support - falling victim to gravity as he hit his head straight on the hard, stone floor.

Surprisingly enough, the sight didn't deter one of the muggers from trying to land a hit on their sudden assailant. It was a clumsy attack that was easily sidestepped before the man busted a kneecap forcing the unlucky thief to take a knee. He didn't even get a chance to look into the eyes of his attacker as a lightning-fast knee met the bottom of his chin, knocking out teeth in the process.

Jaune swore he could hear a pin drop in the silence of the alleyway, once filled with malicious laughter as the man who led him here looked as though he was about to wet himself there and now in front of the teen's savior.

He did what any self-preserving creature would do in that situation.

Run away as fast as he could.

How clever.

The figure made no move to apprehend him as the leader desperately dashed past him, leaving his gang and his victim in the dust behind him. Eventually, a scoff sounded as footsteps became louder and louder to Jaune as the sound rebounded from the walls.

But without indication, the man stopped dead before turning his head for a second. The rest of his body followed suit, leaving Jaune crippled and alone. Did that man just leave? Why the hell-

"Hey, Aunt, did you hear that?" A new voice entered the vicinity, a girl near the same age as the wounded teen appeared in the light across the alleyway. "It sounded like- what the-"

"H-help…" Jaune's weak voice begged, unconscious will to survive overcoming confusion.

"Holy crap, Aunt get over here, someone needs help!" the voice screamed, stepping over the unconscious (Jaune hoped), bloody bodies of his once muggers.

"Lyn, what have I told you about running off like that?" Somebody older entered in behind the girl in front of Jaune's vision. "Dear Gods, what on Remnant happened here? Lyn, help me carry him back to the inn." Before she even finished her sentence, the girl named Lyn already hoisted the injured teen over her shoulder and began to carry him out of the depths of his almost-grave.

"M… ord…" Jaune's own voice came out haggard.

"What did you say?"

"My… sword…"

Lyn turned back to see a metal blade sheathed in an elegant white on the ground near to where the boy laid earlier. It seemed to have been dropped in a hurry of some sort.

"Here, let me help you with that." Her Aunt gestured to take some of the weight from carrying the blond but Lyn shook her head.

"It's fine, just get his stuff, please." Easily enough, she complied, retrieving the sword and backpack before nodding to signal that they should probably leave.

The boy talked once more, "Thank… you…" before his head dropped, leaving the bangs of his hair to cover his eyes.

Just before Lyn began to panic, she felt the rise and fall of his chest next to her own, indicating that he most likely passed out from exhaustion. Relief washed over her as she and her aunt began to make their way back into the sunlight and to their inn.

As she left she saw a man getting violently apprehended by the police, pushed against the ground and handcuffed, all while he swore and cursed at the officers surrounding him. He was generally average looking, nothing really worth noting about his features apart from a beard. Looks like he was caught in the act of something.

How unlucky for him.

/-/

Jaune actually woke up in the middle of being carried by something warm, soft and smelling like flowers.

So it sucked pretty hard when he was thrown onto what he assumed was a collection of wooden tables.

"Oof… ugh…"

Lyn's chestnut hair bobbed as she tilted her head, "You're awake? Well, you're lucky that we can treat you ourselves right now since everyone is outside working." She told the half-conscience boy laying on the makeshift bed before her. "First of all, let's see what's wrong with you."

Really, Jaune didn't have the energy to be embarrassed by the fact that a real-life girl was checking around his body since most of it went to wincing in pain at her prods.

"Hm. It looks like it's mostly just bruising and scrape wounds." Jaune subconsciously brought his hand to his stomach. "Mainly around the midsection and head. Here, I need to move your hand if I want to sort out."

A sharp gasp was spat out of the boy's mouth. Almost immediately, Lyn gave the wrist she held an experimental squeeze, earning her a second wince. "A broken wrist? Now that I look at it, the swelling is starting. Luckily for you, it's already in the right position to heal up. We have pain killers and it's not too hard to whip up a makeshift splint. Aunt, could you look over him while I get the stuff?"

The Arc's blue eyes found themselves trailing Lyn as she rushed off into what he assumed was a kitchen of sorts behind the bar of the inn.

"Amazing isn't she?" Lyn's aunt pulled up a chair to sit next to Jaune and he couldn't help but agree. She took control of the situation and is following through on her proposed solutions without hesitation. It was something that made Jaune somewhat envious of her ability.

So in the end, he let his exhaustion wane over him once more and put himself under the mercy of a girl he just met.

/-/

"There, give it a week or two and it should be good as new." Jaune, now sat on a chair instead of having his back on a table, examined the bandages and singular splint that now decorated his body. Having taken the painkillers offered by Lyn from before, the once throbbing that spanned over his entire body had lessened to just more than a lingering headache - meaning he could now form coherent words and sentences to communicate with his saviors.

"So, what's your name?" Lyn's aunt asked. Her own hair was as brown as her nieces but was instead much wavier and came down in a ponytail around her neck. There was also the more pressing feature of her green skirt's length but for a teenage boy, it took extreme diligence to keep your eyes somewhere more decent as she sat leg over leg on her chair.

Jaune Arc was not very diligent.

"Uh, Jaune. Jaune Arc. Short, sweet, rolls off the tongue, ladies love it!" He ended with a wink. Which then turned into a wince and a gasp.

After a long second, Lyn's aunt managed to stifle a small giggle under her hand. Lyn herself dove behind the bar and Jaune could hear her rolling around and slamming her fist against the floor planks, bawling.

"Do they though?" The more reserved of the pair asked. Jaune's answer was a glance at his feet and a blush on his face muttering something along the lines of `hoping they will`. "My name is Pearl, and my niece's name is Rosalyn - but everyone calls her Lyn. You're also welcome to call her that, " she added with a wink.

"Aunt…" Now recovered and sitting on the bar, Lyn added with a slight tint to her cheeks. She wore a dark brown sweatshirt, the sleeves covering half of her hands - barely leaving the fingers visible - and denim shorts that displayed a generous amount of thigh.

"It's nice to meet you, however, the conditions of our meeting not so much…"

"Yeah, you looked like you went through hell. What happened to you?"

The only fair-haired person in the room brought his left hand up to the back of his head as a nervous tick before remembering it was in a splint for a reason as pain shot through it, earning Jaune an intake of air through the teeth. Chuckling nervously at the duo's raised eyebrows he started, "I just got here after about a week of traveling and was looking for a place to stay. Those guys told me they knew the way and told me to follow them. Guess where that got me, heh…"

Pearl uncrossed her legs and crossed them the opposite way. Jaune very much noticed. "Unfortunately, that's not all too uncommon here. This town has somewhat of a notorious reputation for taking advantage of unsuspecting, dumb travellers and tourists. No offense."

"None taken."

"I guess you were lucky that we found you when we did or who knows what could have happened to you."

This time it was Lyn who spoke, hopping down from the bar counter, "I mean you came out looking like crap but you should have seen the other guys, you did a real number on them, didn't you?"

"I-uh…" But he didn't do anything? Apart from get his ass handed to him by a group of common thugs. "Did you see anyone… leave the alleyway? You know, before you showed up?"

Tilting her head slightly in bewilderment, Lyn replied, "Hm. I did see someone getting arrested looking like he came from your direction, but I don't think that's what you're asking for, is it? Was there someone else there with you?"

They didn't see his mysterious hero then? It would be hard to track him down and say thank you, in that case. The shadows of the alleyway did wonders in hiding his identity, and the only really discernible feature they had was a cape of sorts.

Kind of tacky, now that Jaune thought about it.

"Yes."

"Huh?" Confused didn't really properly explain the level of bamboozled Lyn felt at her patient's articulation.

"Yes. I did beat up the group of men."

"Good… for you. It's not like we doubted you, anyway…"

Jaune's sea-blue eyes met the amber eyes of the girl standing above him and stared.

He could have gotten lost in her gaze.

It didn't help that an ever-glowing red started to tint his cheeks as eye contact remained.

"Okay, you two," Pearl rescued the boy from his own complete and utter ineptitude at holding a conversation. "Jaune. You seem like you're on an important journey, if you don't mind telling us, what are you after?" The older woman attempted to reset the topic.

This question was easy enough, Jaune had it all planned out. Run away, go to Beacon, become a huntsman, be a hero. Easy enough, right? "I want to become a huntsman. I'm trying to get to Beacon so I can be somebody that can save people… a hero."

"A huntsman, hm?" Pearl's eyes briefly glanced to her niece.

"Yeah! See, my father is a huntsman, and his father before him was a hero, and his father before him too. I just… I just want to follow in their footsteps." He shifted his head to look at the sword that rested on top it, "That blade was used by them all to save countless people. I can only hope to be as great as them."

Once again, the eldest in the room spoke, "You must be quite special to have been given it."

It took everything Jaune had not to recoil at the words. He couldn't bear tell these two, who already had faith in him, that his father denied his desire and he had to steal the heirloom and run.

So he just nodded.

Lyn put a slender finger to her chin. "Arc, hm? For a line of heroes, I haven't really heard that name before. Ow! Aunt?"

"Don't be rude." Her elder scolded, who was now standing by her niece in the split-second Jaune wasn't looking - so much so that he had to do a quick double-take between the chair and Pearl's current position.

Waving off the comment, Jaune explained, "I don't blame you." He brought his right hand this time to scratch the back of his head. "Apparently, we were a lot more prominent in Vale. But my father… he wanted to get away from all that. So he brought us with him to here, in Mistral."

"Huntsmen, huh… my parents were both Huntsmen too, you know?"

"Lyn…"

"No, it's alright, Aunt. They went out on a mission once when I was super, duper young and they never came back. Apparently, Mom made her sister promise something." Lyn was surprisingly nonchalant, even trying to meet the eyes of her Aunt - who turned her head and glanced at a particular part of the floor instead. "She told her that `if something ever happened to me and my husband, please take care of my daughter. And please, keep her off of the path we chose. Right, Aunt?"

"It's true. And once Amy was presumed dead, I made true on my promise."

"I-"

"I'm over it though. It's been like a decade, time heals all wounds and everything, so don't feel bad, Jaune. Instead, I think I want to become something of a doctor. Saving lives, but in a different way." She placed her hands on her hips and gave a reassuring smile. "So I guess our goals are pretty similar, don't you think?"

"I... yeah. They are." Blond hair swayed in a nod. Jaune gave a more awkward smile in return, but it was the thought that counted.

"Why go to Beacon though, Jaune?" Pearl looked more at ease now that the previous topic had ceased discussion. "Surely it would be much easy to go to Haven instead?"

"I've heard Beacon is where all the great Huntsmen came from, including my ancestors. It just feels right."

"Still, it's a very long way from here. Do you have anyone that we can call to meet up with you?"

Both of his hands spikes upward to wave off the concern, earning him another spike of pain. "No, no! I'm traveling alone, it's fine!"

Pearl, who's scroll was already half out, raised an eyebrow. "So you're trying to get to Vale… all by yourself?"

"Yeah."

"And you don't see anything wrong with that?"

Jaune didn't get what Pearl was trying to get at, "Why would I…?"

"Well…"

"Wow, Jaune. You must be a pretty brave guy to go out into Grimm infested forests on a several thousand-mile journey solo." Lyn had an impressed look on her face that would normally get Jaune to feel pretty awesome for impressing a member of the opposite gender. It was unfortunate that the sense of dread that now enveloped him overpowered it to a large degree.

Grimm-infested?!

He didn't know Grimm were in that forest!

It was possible that his father had something to do with that, however, his constant patrols of the forest bordering their own little town resulted in no interaction with the Creatures of the Grimm so Jaune just assumed there were no Grimm!

He could have died… what would his family have thought if their only son - who left the household without a word - was found dead a week later mauled by Beowolves?

His mother and sisters would weep. Especially poor Amber, he made a promise to her specifically. His father would take back his sword as a grim reminder about how he was too weak to prevent his idiot son from-

"Jaune?" Lyn's face was now right in front of the blond boy's, "You okay? Looks like you saw your life flash before your eyes or something."

He blinked once.

Then screamed.

"Hoo-WAAAHH! Oof!" The young teen pushed himself backward with enough force to tilt over the chair he was sat on. The back of his head gave the wooden floor an especially strong high-five.

"Hoo-"

"-Wah?" The two females in the room questioned.

Luckily, though, if they saw how red his face was - he could chalk it up to the blood rushing to his head.

/-/

The rest of the day went without a hitch.

Pearl wasn't kidding when she said people would know better than to bother them. In fact, they seemed to get a bunch of free stuff as both Lyn and her aunt appeared to be prominent figures in the town's community. Both of them talked about their future plans in more detail, Jaune's sisters (much to his own dismay) and Lyn's inn stories about some of their most… interesting patrons.

The end of the day was approaching, evidenced by the already set sun and the rise of its broken sister in the cool night sky.

"We're home!" Lyn exclaimed, literally kicking down the double doors that lead into the inn.

Jaune stepped back in surprise but proceeded to follow behind Lyn's confident stride, holding supplies and groceries alike in his right arm

"Hey, Lyn!"

"Lyn! How you doing?

"I've missed you so much… don't tell your aunt this, but the way you make those meat pies is way better than her's."

"Wow… you sure are popular, huh?" Jaune observed from his spot behind the local star, bobbing and weaving through tables.

"It's nothing really," Lyn scratched her cheek with her free hand, the other one busy holding a bag of groceries as they made their way into the kitchen. "It's a town where everyone knows everyone. We aren't all bad people, some just don't take to kindly to outsiders."

Putting some groceries down on the kitchen countertop, Jaune couldn't help but sweat a little. "Yeah… I think I know." The brunette giggled slightly, giving Jaune some weird feeling heebie-jeebies in the pits of his stomach.

Pearl looked back at the two, after stowing something away in the oven to cook. "Ah! You're finally back. Did you get what you needed?"

"Uhuh," Lyn answered, "we got Jaune's supplies and your groceries." Pointing to each respective group of items respectively. Pearl nodded.

"Alright then. I'll go wait some tables, will you two be fine for the rest of the night?"

"Course, Aunt!"

"I'll leave you two to it then." With that, the older woman waved her goodbyes and dove into the mess of chattering people scattered across the inn's hall.

"Thanks for everything today, Lyn. But I think… yawn… I'm going to call it a night."

"Oh, alright then. Goodnight, Jaune." Lyn took a step closer and slowly wrapped her arms around the teen, "Today was fun. Excluding the whole almost dying part, hah…"

Holy crap. Is this what Dad meant by second base?

So, in all of the wisdom his father gave him, responded to the best of his ability. "I-"

What a time for your voice to crack.

Lyn stepped back, linking her arms behind her back and her golden eyes couldn't meet Jaune's sapphire ones. Her face also adorned a small blush, her whole demeanour contrasting her constantly outgoing attitude from earlier in the day.

…

"I-I think I'm going to head to my room."

…

"That's probably for the best. Sweet dreams, Jaune."

Slowly but surely, he made his way out of the kitchen, and once he was completely sure he was out of sight, the flustered boy darted to the safety of his room. Up the stairs and into the back of the inn.

In his rush, he earnt the stares of many patrons - including Pearl, who was politely trying to excuse herself from being hit on by a rough-looking man in a tacky, tattered cape a few moments prior.

Swiftly, the door shut as quick as it was open and Jaune jumped onto the actual, real-life bed and shoved his face into his pillow and started screaming.

Eventually, he gave up and turned around to look at the ceiling, moonlight filling the room from the window adjacent to his bed. His splinted hand came up into view and the teen stared at it, lost in thought.

Sweet dreams, Jaune.

His healthy hand came to palm his face in an effort to hide the embarrassment from himself, hoping that the relative darkness of the room coupled with his hand would prevent the red coming to his face.

It worked, but didn't prevent quiet screams from escaping from his mouth.

Why did she have to say it like that…?

At this rate, Jaune will have way more than a sweet dream.

Sighing, Jaune didn't bother to change out of his favourite hoodie and jeans, instead opting to get under the covers as he was to get to the next day as quickly as possible.

Maybe he'll spend a little longer in this town than he expected.

/-/

Awaking from his slumber, Jaune threw the duvet off of him - heat rushing across his body so much so that he woke up entirely. His room was brightly lit from the sunlight that shone through the window.

Expect it wasn't sunlight.

It was fire.

Rushing to his feet, Jaune scanned the room - seeing that his sword lay against the desk that held his backpack and armour scattered across the surface. What drew his attention more was the wall opposite of his was beginning to light aflame.

No time to strap on his armour or have potential deadweight in his backpack, the Arc took his family blade and bolted out of the door of his room and stopped before going down the stairs, once more surveying the sight. The tables were upturned and plates and cutlery were dispersed, broken, across the ground.

There was no sight of Pearl, nor Lyn.

Screams echoed from outside, prompting Jaune to snap his head to look through the gaping hole in the wall. He couldn't see through it too clearly from his angle, so he made his way down the stairs three steps at a time to view what awaited him outside.

It was hell.

His father would sometimes, very rarely, talk about hell. War was hell. The battlefield was hell. Maybe it was all an effort to push his children away from the lifestyle he had.

So much for that.

The majority of buildings were either smashed into or completely toppled, giving a view of behind it - more buildings either toppled or crumbling. Anything that could be combustible was ablaze. Running through the streets, Jaune saw stalls that he and Lyn had visited up in flames and various features of the town covered in red.

Blood.

Its mention wasn't much by itself, but seeing it - and thinking of who's it could have been - shook the young teen to his core. Was it the caring old lady that told Jaune and Lyn about her newly-born granddaughter while wrapping up an assortment of fruits? Or perhaps it was the young man aspiring to become an engineer, working a stall as a side-job to pay for his school tuition? Gods forbid it was one of the little children who were playing ball on the cobblestone pavement…

A shrill cry broke Jaune out of his inner turmoil. "HELP!" It was one he came to recognise after a second.

Lyn's aunt, Pearl.

Soon enough, his head snapped towards the sound. Pearl was knocked onto her behind, frantically attempting to scramble backwards - only to slam her back into a wall. Not brave enough to take away her eyes from the crimson-red orbs that pierced through her, she instead bore directly into them in a manner of stern acceptance. The coal, wolf-like creature before it released a low growl, raising a claw to the air ready for a fatal blow that would surely rip any normal person apart.

Jaune was frozen in place, helpless to save the woman who showed him nothing but accepting kindness and leaving her to an eternal fate in the form of death. His splinted hand ached.

That's what he thought, at least.

Completely unknowingly to himself, Jaune found Crocea Mors was drawn to intercept the boned, ivory edge that threatened Pearl's life only seconds ago.

"Jaune?! W-What are you doing here?"

"I-Isn't it obvious? I'm here to save you…" Easier said than done when a Grimm is staring you down, slowly overpowering you in a deadlock. Especially so when said Grimm let out an ear-splitting roar point-blank at your face, leaving you in a daze visually and audibly. It didn't help the initial impact literally made his own bones vibrate and cry out in their own way of pain.

Remember what Dad reluctantly taught you, Jaune…

"There may be a time where I'm not here to protect you and your sisters Jaune. If, and I mean if, it comes down to it - you need to be able to become a stand-in for me." Nicholas Arc did not want his children to be out fighting wars and campaigns against the Grimm, but he would be a fool if he were to leave them vulnerable in a case where he himself was unavailable.

It sure was unlucky that, at the time, Jaune didn't take those lessons very seriously.

Video games and trying to make friends were more of his goals at the age his father decided to impart combat wisdom onto him, much to the dismay of his current situation.

However, it was all he currently had to go on.

Gritting his teeth, Jaune tilted his blade to slide the claw off of the surface of his sword. Surprised by the sudden change in its arm's momentum, the Beowolf stumbled forward as its claw was slammed into the ground by the teen's boot.

Deflect, Disarm, Kill. His father's repeated motto during the limited training interactions he and his son had. "Remove the danger from its source, then remove the source entirely."

With a primal roar of his own, Jaune swung Crocea Mors in his primary hand - aiming to sever the black limb of the wolf. The revolting sound of flesh was dug into as a powerful cut dug into the meat of the creature. Crocea Mors was now stuck halfway between the arm of a Beowolf; the hide much stronger than Jaune had once expected.

Tugging at the silver heirloom, Crocea Mors came free of her monstrous prison before coming back down even mightier, this time completely lopping off the appendage.

The Beowolf staggered backwards and howled in what Jaune could only assume to be pain, the jet-black mass underneath his shoe already turning to dust. His only chance was now, there was no time for him to waste.

Charging in recklessly, Crocea Mors spun as her master did, shattering the white mask - and cutting fruitfully behind it as well - in a backward spinning slash aimed to the upper right of the blond.

Jaune was left with a scattering corpse, a saved woman, a newfound sense of determination and a whole lot of adrenaline leaving his bloodstream.

"Jaune… you…"

"We have to get out of here." His blond hair was matted in specs of black dust that didn't seem to want to disintegrate and waved in the strong winds that blew the thick smoke of the raging fires around them into their faces. But in the middle of the chaos, Jaune reached out his hand to save somebody he was undeniably indebted too - not like it mattered to him whether or not he owed them anything anyway.

"Of course… Lyn! Jaune, have you seen Lyn?" Pearl's outburst was sudden, after she took Jaune's hand and he helped the woman to stand on her own two feet.

"No, I thought you would have known?"

She shook her head, "We were together at first, running away with the others at the inn, but then she broke off from me saying you were still in your room. I tried to go after her but the Grimm, they…"

Was Lyn headed towards to inn then?

"Pearl, is that you?" Turning around, Jaune was met with a dozen pairs of eyes staring at the duo. The group held pitchforks and torches, pretty stereotypical for a mob - Jaune thought, but desperate times and all. "We're headed to the town's emergency escape passage, come with us." Murmurs of agreement echoed through the crowd.

The brunette in question opened her mouth, only for the words not to come out. She closed it again and looked directly into Jaune's eyes, conflicted and brimming with worry and hope alike.

Words left from his mouth before he even had time to think about how to respond, "I'll find Lyn. Get to safety."

It was enough for Pearl to give Jaune a tight hug, whispering, "Please… stay safe," into the bunny of Jaune's exposed hoodie. Backing off, Pearl nodded to the group's leader and they all ran towards where the blond assumed the exit to this hellhole was - none of them looking back.

Now with his own thoughts, cerulean orbs were drawn to the attractive steel of Crocea Mors.

Damn it! Jaune inwardly cursed.

His father was right; the battlefield really was hell… taking out a single Beowolf had already drained everything the boy had in him. But to him, it was well worth the life saved.

Hopefully, he could make it at least two.

Dashing through the streets he ran past not five minutes ago, he came to the inn entrance to see something he wished he hadn't.

Lyn's sweatshirt, part of it ripped, stained in a pool of its own blood that most definitely was not there when Jaune first left. Thank the Gods, there was no body, no sight of a poor girl being mauled; he was already about to throw up, barely able to contain the rising bile. Jaune couldn't even notice the splint she had treated him had slipped out foregoing all of the commotion and running.

Fading memories of yesterday were fleeing Jaune's mind. Her carrying him to safety, the undeniable determination she had to try save someone she had just met, the way they just clicked while going out for supplies, her smile, her touch.

And tears ran down Jaune's eyes, salty and wet.

An all too familiar growl evaporated those tears and replaced them with fire. It was the Grimm's fault. All of it. The pain, the destruction, the misery. Anger rose in Jaune, creating an inferno within his soul - caged in its uncertainty.

But it couldn't break free.

Snouts and maws were raised in the air alike, alert to the sudden spike in negative energy filling the atmosphere. In a matter of mere seconds, every exit was cut of by a monster of some sort. Both Ursai and Beowolves zero-in on their small, blond target - red eyes out for blood.

Jaune couldn't care less.

Resolved, her sheathe became his shield in his broken hand - while the other tightened on the royal hilt of her other half.

He'd make them pay.

/-/

Welp.

This has gone to shit real quick.

The White Fang were moving a lot faster than he predicted. Taking a small break in a nearby village wouldn't hurt, he thought. Sienna wouldn't attack a frontier settlement like this for no reason, he thought. What would Ozpin say…

He'd deal with Oz later.

Jumping from rooftop to rooftop, he managed to stave away oncoming Grimm from a group of around twelve or so people to a secret exit of sorts. He could very well fly instead of using his stupid real-man legs, but getting a surprise pecking from one of the Giant Nevermore in the sky wasn't exactly on his list of to-do; with the chaos, it wouldn't do too well to disturb the airspace the Grimm were taking up.

Loud roars reverberated across the smoke-filled night air.

Except these sounded like they came from a person.

With a swift change in direction, Qrow Branwen hopped across the buildings to the presumed origin of the-

"Ho-ly shit…"

It was a teen who didn't seem too dissimilar in age to his eldest niece. The more compelling observation was that he was wallowing in a pool of crimson that continued to grow slowly.

Qrow landed with little to no sound, making his way next to the boy to see his eyes were closed lightly and covered in blood that dripped from his head. Scanning the rest of his body, the huntsman noticed several cuts in his attire where flesh was also sliced beneath. Some were deep, others barely a scrape. Moreover, the blond kid's left hand was mangled beyond belief, twisted in ways that shouldn't have been possible if there were any bones there at all.

Closing his eyes, Qrow began to try sense anything he could surrounding the boy's soul.

…

Nothing. He didn't have Aura. Though…

Looking to the street ways surrounding, dissipating corpses of two or three Beowolves and an Ursa littered the paths. This kid was a real trooper taking on all these Grimm without Aura of all things.

Next, Qrow's gaze was drawn to the sword that lay on the ground next to him. "Holy God damn mother of Salem… there's no way…" Snapping his head across different sets of debris and rubble, some of it still on fire, Qrow found what he was looking for.

An all too familiar shield with an all too familiar crest on it. Oz was gonna freak if he heard about this. Nicholas was gonna freak if he heard about this.

Now, there were two options here. Three, actually:

One: Let the kid die. Nicholas found out Qrow was on a mission that was coincidentally the death place of his son. Qrow would get a surprise visit - no matter where he flew too - and suddenly go missing-in-action.

Two: Save the kid and give him back to Nicholas. He would owe him one but still refuse to come back to Beacon. However, Ozpin would lose yet another Arc, potentially leading to the death of his current reincarnation and/or the end of the world.

Three: Save the kid and get him into Beacon, Ozpin would have an Arc back and Nicholas wouldn't kill Qrow, per se… maybe smack him around a little bit. He could trust the man to not launch a full-scale operation on the Academy to get his son back, couldn't he?

Hell, did Nicholas even know where this kid was?

This is fifty shades of fucked-up…

Out of all the options, getting into a scuffle with an old classmate and only having the potential of Beacon Academy being heisted seemed like the most favourable; Qrow just had to say, "Fuck it. After this, I'll barely have enough Aura to protect myself from getting a hangover - let alone a Grimm." He retracted Harbinger to its holster position and put a hand on the dying boy's shoulder.

"For it is in time that we find our purpose. Through it, we become plagued with memories of regret but we can only hope to rise above all. So, unshackle your soul and reach to what you will never acquire; to protect others, you must shield yourself foremost."

As the chant ended, the body of the boy erupted in a blinding, bright light - filling the world with colour for a moment before the hellish landscape returned to its original form. Regularly, when somebody has their Aura unlocked, the surrounding area becomes devoid of colour as the soul takes otherworldly energies to break its chains.

Well, it's what Ozpin told him offhandedly one time while Qrow was just chilling in his office. Just a random nugget of knowledge he spouted out for no apparent reason whatsoever other than to appear wise, Qrow would hazard a guess.

But whoever this Arc kid was, his soul definitely had a lot more to give as opposed to take.

A thunderous screech pierced the night sky. "What even in all the seven rings of hell is that..?" Qrow looked up at the demonic beast that seemed to ride atop a god damn monster-horse. It wasn't `demonic` in the sense that all Grimm were demonic, it was more like it looked like an actual devil of myth - horns and all. The horse wasn't much better to look at either, ominous smoke rising from what should have been its mane.

In any case, Qrow was no longer in any position to fight. His hands were tied up with a bloody, blond and beat-up rope while he felt Aura essentially nosedive into critical levels with the stunt he pulled. Luckily for both of them, it hadn't seemed to notice them and was only attracted to the area's general negativity. Guess it was now or never.

Qrow preferred now.

With raw strength, Qrow hopped through the air and onto the rooftops, aiming to head someways into the forest, think happy thoughts and hope for the best. "Save… her…" The now-alive corpse in his hand spoke weakly. His eyes were half-closed due to the sheer amount of blood that ran across them earlier. On the topic of blood, the greying huntsman noticed the cuts and wounds on his body were all completely closed

"No-can-do. Aura's out. If you want those claws somewhere where they shouldn't be in my body you can keep asking, but I can't say I'm currently willing." He would have to leave Nicholas' family blade here too, no time to carry it along with both the boy and his own weapon.

"I… promis…ed…"

"Kid?" Looks like he was out again. Did he make a promise to save someone, then? Huh. Qrow sent a quick look to the streets below him. He wasn't lying when he said it was stupidly dangerous. He would die if he went down there, the kid following him soon after. He made promises of his own as well and knew for a fact he couldn't keep them if he was reduced to a feathery cadaver.

For now, though, as he now lept through treetops - leaving the burning world behind them, Qrow had to make a few phone calls to HQ.

Ending Notes:

Hm. Making building up characters for just for something like this to happen? Honestly, I always found it weird in media.

I contemplated whether or not I should add a scene of Jaune appearing unto Beacon after the timeskip, but I'll save it for the start of the next chapter. Wonder how people feel about this prologue. I tried something new and hope people will like it. As Senku from `Dr. Stone`says: `Try, try, try, try, try and try again.`.

At least until it works.

Next chapter we see our hero arrive at Beacon! Can't wait to write that...

Thank you for reading this chapter!