Chapter 9: Prerequisites

DISCLAIMER: This story is NOT MINE IN ANY WAY. That honor has gone to the beautiful bastard Ryugii. This has been pulled from his Spacebattle publishment. Anyway on with the show...errr read.

Prerequisites

"Dad?" I asked with a raised voice, stepping into my house. "Dad, are you still home?"

"One sec!" I heard sounds of motion and then saw my dad coming down the stairs a moment before his hand was on my head, ruffling my hair, dropping a bag by the door.

"There you are!" He said, grinning widely. "How'd the date go, lady killer?"

"It wasn't a…" I shook my head. "You know what? Whatever."

I looked down at the bag, nudging it with the toe of my shoe.

"Leaving again already?" I asked.

He smiled apologetically.

"Duty calls. Sorry kid; your mom already went ahead to get our rid prepped, but she'll swing by before we have to leave. You can take care of yourself, right?"

"I always do," I said. "Can I talk to you about something before you go?"

"Is it girls?" He asked, wagging his eyebrows. "Because you're right; we should talk about that now. I know I'm usually busy, but—"

"It's important, Dad," I said, not letting myself get distracted even as I felt traces of heat rise in my cheeks.

"Ah," My father said, face becoming serious. Pursing his lips for a moment, he jerked his head towards the dining room and I followed him. When we were both seated, he looked at me with a steady expression. "What's wrong, Jaune?"

I lifted a hand to my lips, wondering where to even start. The beginning, I decided.

"I've been training a lot recently," I said. "Since a bit less than two weeks ago. I didn't really mean to keep it a secret, I just wanted to get a bit stronger before I told you because…"

I could help but look down. We both knew why.

"You've never had anything to prove, Jaune," My Dad said seriously. "Not to me or your mother."

"Yeah, but…I had to prove stuff to myself, you know?" I continued, looking down at my hands on the table. "Ever since…I failed to get into Signal again and again and the others all went off to combat school, but no matter how hard I tried, I was never good enough. And after you gave me Crocea Mors…but I still couldn't…"

I shook my head.

"I tried. You and mom told me I could be anything I wanted, do whatever I wanted, but what I wanted was to be like you and mom, like grandpa and the others. Everyone expected me to become a Hunter, but more than that, I expected it, wanted it. But…I wasn't good at it. At anything I tried. Until two weeks ago."

I tried to gather my thoughts and put them into words.

"I'm still not entirely sure what happened, but…I guess I found my Semblance," I shrugged, still not entirely sure what had happened. "I awakened the rest of my Aura a week or so later, after I figured out how to use it."

Dad's eyebrows went up at that, surprise on his face.

"After you found your Semblance?" He asked.

I nodded.

"After I went to the library, I found a book about it. I don't really know how to describe it without sounding strange but I can do stuff like that; I learn things fast, from books or otherwise, and I recover quickly when I get tired. Recently, I've been training or studying all through the night and I went out every day to train, and…"

I shrugged.

"I know," My father said after the silence lingered. At my look, he gave a half-smile. "Give me some credit, kid; I've known since…I guess it would be after you woke up the rest of your Aura. It's the type of thing that changes you and how you move and, well, you've been leaving it on all the time. Your mother and I had talked about it a few times, but we decided to let you come to us when you were ready. We were going to say something when we noticed you staying up all night, but you were always fine in the morning, so…"

He sighed, smile fading, and I had the feeling there had been more to these talks then he was letting on. Thinking about it, I wasn't even that surprised to hear that they knew, given who they were. I'd always just accepted that my mom knows all and sees all, but she usually didn't bring things up if I didn't want to talk about them unless she thinks she really has to or I do something bad. I hadn't even really been trying to hide it, I just didn't want to bother them about it.

"My Semblance has…well, it's just weird," I admitted. "But it's pretty awesome, too, and it can do all sorts of things. But…I'll tell you about that latter. What I wanted to do is ask you for some advice. About, well, I guess about what I should do about a problem I've been having."

Dad bobbed his head once.

"I, well, I have a friend," I said, before briefly debating with myself and just coming out with it. "Blake, the girl you heard about earlier—and please don't start, Dad, please—asked me for my help and I don't know if I should say yes or not. Because…Dad, have you ever had a friend who wanted to do something that was just stupid?"

He laughed in my face, like I'd just said something hilarious before suppressing it—only to lose control again when he saw my face. I stared at him oddly until he wound down, but even then there was a small smile on his face and mirth in his eyes.

"Sorry about that," He said. "You'll understand later, if you become a Huntsman. But I have some experience along those lines, yeah."

"I'll take your word for it," I said, figuring he was the one with experience—and if he and mom were anything to go by, well… "But Blake's idea, it's stupid. But…I think it may also be the right thing to do and I don't know if there are any better options. And if I don't help…she can't do this without me and other people will suffer if nothing is done."

Eyebrows furrowed, the Arc patriarch looked away, the beginnings of a frown on his lips. He stared at a few of the pictures on the walls, of his old team.

"I know a thing or two about that, too," He said, mirth gone. "Is it dangerous? Something you can go to a teacher or the police about?"

'Or me' went unsaid.

"I don't think the police could do much about this—or even the Hunters. And yeah, it's dangerous," I said. "That's why it's stupid. But I think…I can make it work, maybe. And if I do nothing, it won't stop being dangerous; it'll just be dangerous to other people instead of me. And the more I think about it…"

"The more the thought sickens you," He nodded. "You want to do something. Feel like you have to."

I thought about it and nodded firmly.

"Yeah," I said. "I want to help them. There's so much about it that scares me and makes me want to run away, but I want to help. And I keep thinking maybe, just maybe, I could actually win, if I went all out in my training and try my hardest."

Dad took a deep breath and looked around as if expecting some horrible monster to pop out of the shadows.

"Your mother is going to kill us both…" He sighed before looking back at me with steel in his eyes. "Promise me that if you think you might get hurt, you'll back out. You'll call for help, delay, whatever—but you won't get hurt."

"I intended to do that anyway," I said, even if I was becoming less and less sure about that as time went on. "And Blake and her friends will be there, too. They're strong. Stronger than me. I think if we tested her, she could get into Beacon right now."

"I…God, I don't want to say this, but it'd be hypocritical not to. I made my own father go through this, once, though I was a bit older…" He exhaled through his nose. "Jaune, listen to me. Sometimes, you have to fight even if it's dangerous because the alternative is worse or because you couldn't live with yourself if you didn't. I understand that, believe me—every Hunter understands that, accepts it the moment they really become one. It's a dangerous job but it's one we chose to do. So…I won't tell you not to, even if I want to. If you're doing this to help people, then put your all into it and help them. But there are three things you have to remember at all times, okay? The people who have your back, the home you have to come back to, and the things you need to stay alive to do. Promise me you won't forget those three things, no matter what."

I stared at my Dad's face for a long moment, noting how uncharacteristically solemn his expression was. He was taking this seriously.

So was I.

"I will," I said in the same tone. "I'm going to get everyone out safely and come home and then I'm going to become a Huntsman. I'll keep training hard and when the time comes I'll take the test and enter Beacon and I'm gonna graduate and I'm going to become the best Hunter in the whole world. I will."

"That's my boy," Jacques said, baring his teeth in a smile. "Do you need any help?"

I understood the offer for what it was and glanced back at the bag he'd left in the hall.

"Don't you need to be somewhere?" I asked.

"A murder of Giant Nevermore came in to roost near Mistral and they keep trying to abduct people to feed their young," He said with a shrug. "Your Mom and I are going in for a few weeks to serve as reinforcements, but…we can find someone else if you need."

It'd be a lie to say I wasn't tempted. Like, truly enormously tempted to just tell him 'Yes, Dad, please call off all your plans, including the ones to save countless lives and help me.' But…I hesitated. Part of it was because I knew that those people probably were in great danger and I knew my parents were some of the best equipped to save them. My dad made a flock of titanic Grimm sound like an everyday thing, but…

So part of it was the fact that, much as I wanted to, I couldn't place myself above others, even for something like this.

But, perhaps even more than that…I didn't want to bring my parents into this. If it was…if it was me getting into trouble or making sacrifices, that was one thing, but I couldn't ask that from them. I wasn't worried about them getting hurt, but there were other things that could be taken from them. If I asked them to come—and they would, if I asked them, I knew that much for sure—then if something went wrong, if someone noticed them or something about them…And they were famous, amazing Hunters, way better known than someone like me…

I could be asking them to give up the lives they made for themselves, what they'd worked so hard to create, and the names they made for themselves. I knew this was risky for me as well, but there were things I could do that others can't—and if I was caught, it would just be on me. I couldn't do that to them, even if I wanted their strength on my side. I didn't know if it was smart or wise or whatever, but I couldn't, I wouldn't.

"Ugh," I said. "You want me to bring my parents to a party? How old are you that you think that would be remotely cool?"

"Yeah, I guess I'd cramp your style, huh?" He smiled sadly. He lowered his head to look me in the eye. "I'll hurry home, okay?"

"Okay," I said. "But I'll be back before you."

I'd try to make sure it wasn't a lie.

"I have to get a few more bags," Dad said. "I'll leave you a few things while I'm up there, just in case."

"Thanks," I said, before stopping him as he turned away. "Dad. Just so you know…I'm gonna turn in my homework for the next few weeks tomorrow, because after that, I'll be missing school for a while. I just wanted you to know, so you didn't…"

He sighed.

"Your Mother is gonna kill us…" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "But I'll handle it. When we both get back, will weather the storm together, okay? A man's gotta take responsibility for his actions."

"Deal," I answered. "Good hunting, Dad."

"You too, kiddo," He said. "And be good, okay?"

"I'll give it my best effort," I hedged, smiling as I watched him go.

When he was gone I let out a long, slow breath, closing my eyes for a minute before opening them once more. I'd decided and now I was resolved.

I accepted the quest and the window finally faded from my sight.

Just one more thing to do.

You are reading story The Games We Play at novel35.com

When I absorb a skill book, I understand what's written inside as if I've known it forever. After I devoured Tukson's gift, I understood it in its entirety—everything it was attempting to convey, hidden within the story, including the skill Summon Elemental. The moment I first received the skill, I realized something in short order—the skill was 'Summon Elemental' not 'Summon Air Elemental,' just as my Elemental Aura hadn't been restricted just to my Metal Affinity. If I followed that to its logical conclusion, assisted by the knowledge I'd gained, it should be possible to use the spell with other Elements, so long as I met all the conditions.

To summon an elemental, you need three things. The first, of course, is an affinity for the element in question, natural or otherwise. The second is a supply of the appropriate element with which to summon it from. By power supplied the former easily enough and both of my current affinities, Metal and Air, were easy enough to come by. However, the final thing was something that needed to be prepared in advanced—a contract.

After saying goodbye to my mom and dad, I sent a message to Blake telling her about my decision and then went out to what had more or less become my place in the woods to do what I needed. I drew a pair of concentric circles and then a five pointed star with its tips touching the outer circle. Then, I took Crocea Mors out of my Inventory and placed it at the center of the circle, shield over sword. I surveyed my work for a moment to make sure everything was in order and nodded to myself.

"What's that for?" Blake's quiet voice reached my ears, sending my poor heart vaulting up into my throat for half an instant before it calmed. As it had done that several times, I was pretty sure that was some aspect of my power, but I'd need to check on it later.

"I didn't expect you to come today," I said, deciding to pretend I'd known she was there all along. I wasn't sure if she'd snuck up on me on purpose, but if she had I wasn't gonna make it fun for her. "I didn't mean to make you rush over."

"I have my books," She answered. "I can read them anywhere. Besides that, there's not much I want to do in this city besides work."

I hummed in acknowledgement.

"This is a summoning circle," I said. "I'm going to summon an Elemental. I picked up the skill from Tukson's book; figured I'd put it to use."

"You…" I heard surprise in Blake's voice. "That's real? The boy and the Wind?"

"Looks that way," I said, look over my shoulder at her. "I don't know how many people could do it given it requires an Affinity with the Element in question, but it's possible, yeah. Tukson said the boy wrote down everything he learned; I think he was right."

Blake frowned at that, tilting her head to the side.

"I…suppose I shouldn't be too skeptical, given everything I've seen," She said. "If there's one thing I know for certain, it's that our world is a strange place. And there have always been stories in Vacuo."

"Oh?"

"Because of the nature of Vacuo, the winds and storms have always been popular in their legends…or, perhaps, in their history. For instance, in the Hall of Kings, the lives of the ancient rulers of Vacuo are transcribed. Four of them claimed to have married the daughters of the North Wind, the Four Winds that are believed to bless Vacuo," Blake said. "And it's often said that if one ventures far enough into the Frozen Desert, they will find Snow's Palace. It's generally accepted as just another myth and expeditions to the far North haven't noted anything of the sort, but…well, here we are."

"Here we are," I agreed.

"Are you going to summon the Wind?" She asked, eyes focusing on the circle interestedly. "Like in the story?"

"Yes," I said. "But later. I gained an Affinity for the Element of Wind from Tukson's book, but I already had an Affinity for Metal—and there's something I have to do."

She tilted her head to the side, looking past me at Crocea Mors, which lay within the circle. Her mouth opened slightly in understanding and she nodded, hand going to her hip.

"Would you like me to leave?" She offered.

I shrugged, a bit embarrassed despite myself.

"You don't have to," I told her. "If it works, it'll be something I'm proud of. Just…be quiet for a minute?"

As she nodded, I touched my hand to the circle and closed my eyes, taking one last deep breath.

"I, Jaune Arc, call upon the ancient contract of ages past to summon thee," I spoke, my voice low but clear. "I hope that you heed my call. Come, Metal Elemental!"

My sword and shield rattled against one another, shaking in place for a moment before going still. For a moment, I wondered if anything had even happened, until I saw my reflect shift in the surface of my shield. The man looking back at me was older then I was and he looked stronger. I'd only ever seen him in artwork, but he looked like my great-great-grandfather. Or, just maybe, like I might look someday.

I…Here. You…the Fifth. Why have you called upon me?

The words took form in my thoughts, but they weren't my own. They weren't loud by any means, but even sluggish as they were, as from some who'd just been woken, I wouldn't call them soft. I'd known that Elementals could communicate in such a way, but even so it surprised me to actually feel it.

But there were respects yet to pay.

"I'll begin in accordance to the ancient rituals," I continued. "My real name is Jaune Arc. You have heard my true name; please tell me yours."

This time, my sword didn't so much as move—but I found myself falling, my vision going black. I…remembered something, except I couldn't remember something that had never happened to me, could I? I don't know how long it was dark for, except that it was a long, long time until suddenly there was light and I was removed from the darkness. I remember there being heat, felt my body coming apart as I was bathed in that fire. I felt the pounding blows of steel, the chill depths of water, and I was changed. Flickering images flowed before my mind's eye alongside rushes of sensation. I felt the rushing touch of the wind, hot liquid washing over skin, soft things giving way before my hard form, the power of life and death in my edge, and knew this was my new purpose.

And then I saw myself, kneeling beside the circle, except I was different. My body, hair, and even clothes were made of smooth, shining steel, like the flawless work of a master artisan.

And then it was my turn to change. I felt myself melting and unlike before where it had been an odd sensation, this time I felt it, felt myself twisting and flowing away—and it hurt. But beneath my fingers, I suddenly felt the cool edge of my sword and all of that just…went away. The metallic coating I'd felt over my flesh chipped away, flaking off with tremendous speed and all that pain was replaced with a simple, beautiful feeling of completion.

For the first time in a long time, I was truly, completely happy with no conditions or reservations, as wholeheartedly as a child.

Crocea Mors. I am. The Yellow Death. You. The Fifth. Jaune Arc?

I opened my eyes and looked at the sword that had somehow traveled from the center of the circle to beneath my hand.

"Yes, I am Jaune Arc."

You and me. That is okay?

"It's better than okay," I said, remembering the words. "It's great. And so are we."

We are one, as the ancient contract decrees.

"Our souls are one."

I am Crocea Mors.

"I am Jaune Arc."

Until our souls meet their end—

"—We will be forever one."

Then know I will protect you always.

And as abruptly as it had come, I felt the presence fade and realized how exhausted I abruptly was. I tried to stay upright but it was a lost cause and I felt myself tipping over, falling—

Blake caught me before I hit the ground.

"Did it work?" She asked quietly and I smiled.

"Yeah," I said. "I'll tell you about it later, but…for now let me…"

I tried to fight it, tried to meditate instead, but I couldn't fight what was coming. For the first time in a week, I felt myself drifting off and away to sleep. But as I did, I thought I heard Blake speaking.

"Are you jealous, too? Gambol—"

I was gone.

I dreamt of battlefields, of dark creatures thick enough to turn a green plain black charging forward, towards what was behind me. But I didn't flinch. I had my blade in my hand and I met that charge with my own. I swept across that field, cutting down monsters like that were naught but grass in the summer. The sun gleamed down from above as the bodies fell and I…

XxXXxX

I woke up and stared groggily at the ceiling for a minute before my brain started working, at which point I realized there were several things wrong with this picture. For one thing, I didn't sleep any more. For another, I'd been in the forest a minute ago—though I assumed it had been longer in the land of the living. And finally, Blake was at my desk, reading a book.

Groaning, I sat up.

"What a waste of time," I sighed, glancing at my alarm clock. Four hours gone that I could have spent doing things that actually matter. I saw Blake set her book down, looking at me calmly. "Sorry for making you waste your time on me, Blake."

"It's not a problem," She said. "Did you get what you needed?"

I glanced around until I found Crocea Mors, back in its sheathed form, leaning against the wall. Rolling out of bed, I walked on bare feet to pick it up.

"Let's find out," I said, closing my eyes. "Crocea Mors."

I am here.

I felt his presence before he spoke and though there was no change to the weapon itself, when I drew the blade and looked at what was reflected in the shining steel, it wasn't my face. Of course, I hadn't truly materialized him, yet. There were two ways to use summoning spells, at least for elementals. The first is simply by summoning the spirit form of the elemental and drawing upon it to manipulate its element—I would feed it my power and it would act as I commanded it. The second method was to truly materialize it, allowing it to act as it wished, though that was more expensive in terms of MP, generally.

But I had an idea I wanted to try.

"Crocea Mors, can you tell what I'm thinking?" I asked, sheathing. "Can you do it? Would it hurt you? And could you…fix it?"

I received no response but the hard metal beneath my fingers softened until it seemed, if anything, like syrup. I grabbed it with my other hand as rivets of liquid steel began to flow across its length—not necessarily downwards, though. They flowed towards my hands, over them, and then down towards my elbows. After a second, I wasn't holding a sheathed sword any more, but a shrinking ball of steel, connected by flowing strands to my fingers.

When it was done, my arms were coated in shining steel from fingertip to near my elbows. I flexed my fingers, rolled my wrists, and worked my elbows to make sure I still had the full range of motion in them as the metal settled and looked down to see Crocea's face in my arms reflection. My left arm, made from my shield, was more thickly armored, better equipped for blocking, but also more than hard enough to deliver a stunning punch. My right, as ever, was my sword, with metallic nails and a sleeker design. My own work, at least mentally, and it was a good first draft at least. Crocea Mors had used his own power to make thought into reality.

Still, I was breathing hard. That had cost a lot of MP, even if I hadn't materialized Crocea for it and I doubted it would have even been possible if it hadn't been his own body he was shifting. It'd take practice before I could do something that fine to something else, much less in combat even ignoring Aura. But…it was still pretty damn awesome.

Mastery of the skill Craft increases! Craft's level goes up by one! Craft's level goes up by one! Craft's level goes up by one!

"It worked," I told Blake, who had watched the entire process in fascination. I had to smile at that, especially as the blue windows appeared before my eyes. "You mind staying like this for a while, Crocea? Turning back won't be a problem, will it?"

No.

That was apparently all I'd get out of the Metal Elemental. I'd try manifesting him in a minute, but…

"Let's get to work Blake," I said. "There's a lot we're going to have to do and not a lot of time to do it, so I'll cut right to the chase. I'm going to need training and I'll need your help for what I have in mind, so let me tell you exactly how my power works…"

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