Lessons Learned

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"On your right!" The man called in warning, the blonde bringing his right arm up to cushion the fist, Aura flaring and sputtering weakly to protect him. Ineffectual from his lack of experience, it gave way mostly and he hissed in pain as the old, weathered fists hit home and his father sighed, sending the blonde Force Warrior staggering to the side of the grassy sparring area far too easily for his liking, "You're not using your Aura to protect yourself, Jaune. An Aura is-"

"A Huntsman's best defense, I know." Jaune pointed out with a grimace, rubbing his arm where he could already feel the bruise mounting, even as the more automatic applications of his Aura kicked in to soothe and heal it. "And I'm trying to focus on it, but… It's hard to focus on the Force around me, and the balance, and focus on my Aura too. It's like I'm spinning plates, but they're on different ends of a room, with strings tied so that spinning one yanks on the other."

"I guess that would be a problem, if it's that hard..." The other man sighed with a small shake of his head, laying the wooden longsword across his broad shoulders and shaking the stinging from his off knuckle where his punch had landed home. "Explain how usin' the Force feels like, then."

"Why?" He asked, instinctive suspicion borne of years of Instructors crueler training springing unwelcomely to mind immediately before he waved the man's curious look off. "Sorry, sorry, just… Let me think, I've never had to explain how it feels to use the Force to someone."

"I've got time, Jaune. You can bet on that, at least." The older man grunted with a shrug, walking across the wide, grassy garden where they'd taken up their training. As much to get Jaune ready as to spend time with him, he was sure. Folding his arms, he leaned against the wall of the Manor and added, "Just lemme know when you're ready to explain. Need to know so I can train you properly."

"Okay." He nodded, pacing around the garden idly while he thought, looking at old, overgrown flower beds, vined trees and the short, stubby and stubborn mountain grass connecting them. With a sigh, he sat at the base of one of those trees, head leaned back to rest against it and eyes closed. "Right here, when I close my eyes, do you know what I see? What I feel?"

"Well, uh…" He sensed the man's confusion now, focused on the Force as he was, and heard the thick shirt he wore rustle over his skin as he probably shrugged. "I'd guess you can see your eyelids, and feel the wind blowing through? Kinda chilly this morning, actually, that, now I'm thinking about it."

"No, I don't see my eyelids, and I feel a little more than the wind." He snarked with a small grin, taking the half-joke for what it was, since the man hadn't had an actual answer. He almost cracked an eye to make sure he hadn't offended his father, but he heard the little chuff of laughter and felt his amusement ripple around him in the Force, so he simply smiled and went on. "When I close my eyes, I see a sea of darkness around me. And for a moment I stand in it, like an island of light. Of life, which causes the light. Then as my focus deepens my attentions expand around me, and I see everything. From you, like a bright sun, to the tiniest pinpricks of grass and bugs around us. Tempests of light amid the sea of blackness around me, life made visible against the blackness of empty air."

Part of that was him quoting the book he'd had to read over and over under Instructor's training regimen, but it did the job regardless and the source didn't matter as much.

"It sounds beautiful." His father whistled, giving his head a small shake. "And the Force lets you… Move that light around, right?"

"No, that is just the Force's acknowledgment of life. The fire that burns inside everyone, so to speak. And, uh, yeah. It's beautiful." It really was, seeing the sheer amount of life around him, flowing around other things in a constant drifting motion. Like the tides of the deep seas, and he sat at the bottom, looking at them set alight as though on fire to his eyes. "The Force proper is the energy of the universe itself. It… Permeates everything, from rocks and dirt all the way up to you and me, and even the Grimm."

"And in the Force, there are two large categories for almost everything that exists." He opened his eyes and looked at his father, raising each hand in turn as he explained, "The Light Side which is made up of justice, temperance, contentment and the lighter, more gentle things in life. And the Dark Side, passions of every kind, ambition, desire, and all the driving forces behind our decisions and beliefs."

"Which do you use?"

"Both." He answered simply, offering a shrug when the man's brows knit together in confusion. How to explain this, then... "It's hard, obtaining a balance. A Jedi cuts himself off from attachment, from passion, and lets themselves be a tool of the Force's apparent will. A Sith does the opposite, using pain, hate and fear as a source of fuel to burn up inside him, whipping his emotions into a tempestuous force around him and cowing the Force outside of himself into obedience."

"So you do… What?"

"I seek a balance." He finished simply, crossing his arms the same way his father had and relaxing on the ground. This was easy, he noted with a thought, relaxing even, to be talking about this with someone. "Jedi and Sith, self made tool and domineering bastard, if you'll forgive the language. I am neither. I am a Revanite. I seek to let my passions drive me, make me stronger, but not control me, and I use temperance and discipline to keep me from being a mere tool, drifting in the ocean of the Force helplessly."

"If the Force is an ocean, you're…" He raised a brow with the next and finished, "A swimmer, maybe?"

"Yeah, and it takes a lot of concentration, too." He pointed out, finally wrapping around to the point he'd been wanting to get to. The relaxation was nice, of course, but there was a time for that and a time for focus. "And it's hard to maintain that kind of focus and concentrate on moving my Aura around at the same time. It's like… I don't know."

"Like trying to pick up two things in one hand." His father guessed, right on the nose as he tended to be. The man was a brute, a barrel of muscle that as much crushed and cudgled enemies with his great sword and never missed a twist or turn in a story. "You just end up fumbling both and dropping them, half the time."

"Yeah."

"So don't do both, then, Jaune." His father suggested, the younger blonde raising an eyebrow in question and reaching up to toy with his little braid idly. "Swap back and forth, as needed. If someone's landing a lot of hits, use your Aura and let the Force go, and protect yourself until you can swap back. If it's better to switch to the Force, do that. Like a Mechashift weapon, with range and melee, you swap between for balance."

"Funny, Dad." He snarked through a smirk he couldn't fend off.

"Eh, I thought it was clever, given how you and… All that," he waved a hand at him, and Jaune got the reference to the Force and how it worked, even if the man evidently didn't understand it, "works. Seems like a more balanced, swapping back and forth, setup would be more your style."

"Maybe…"

"Try it. Just let go of the one and use the other instead." His dad commanded gently, reaching down to pick up a rock and bouncing it meaningfully on his palm. Jaune watched it bounce for a second, knowing the threat behind it, before he met his father's amusement filled eyes. "Whenever you're ready, Jaune. You wanted to be a Huntsman, remember?"

"Yeah…" He sighed as he stood, giving the man a small shake of his head, "No one mentioned the 'getting pelted with rocks' part, but whatever. Let's go."

It took five tries, his father 'gently' pitching the rocks at his arms, before the idea worked. The trick, it turned out, wasn't, as his father had thought initially, to let go of the Force. No, that proved impossible, he was too attuned to the shifting tides, ebbs, and flows inside the ocean of the Force's power and size. If he was a swimmer treading water in the ocean he found himself in, using and directing the flow by 'swimming' through it and letting the tides shift in answer, then ignoring the Force was like ignoring the ocean and not swimming. Not treading the water at all, and instead sitting still in it, like he wasn't adrift at all.

Each time he tried, it was as though he were drowning, the tempests around him barraging his mind and the ocean around the tempests of life-threatening to drown him. To drag him down to the deep, dark, and leave him there to suffocate under the water and be crushed under the pressure. So he couldn't ignore it, it was simply not feasible, and left several little, red welts on his arm from the coaching rocks thwacking into his flesh from across the garden.

Instead, he forced his mind to still utterly in the void of the Force, emptied it of any more complicated emotions beyond basic instincts, and sat back from the Force. Watching, but not interacting beyond that, let him keep his head above the proverbial waterline. And, calm and relaxed, when the rock came in for the last time, his Aura sparked in response to his instinctive reaction to not want to get pelted by a rock, and the little stone bounced away from him.

"You got it! Good work, Jaune." His father crowed, sounding genuinely ecstatic that his son had succeeded. Partially, Jaune was sure, because he was getting weary of pelting the young man with rocks. "Now, however you got it to work, you have to learn to get into that mindset and stay there constantly. Hardest part of Hunter training, that."

"Then I need to meditate." He sighed tiredly, rubbing his bruised arm and giving his father a grimace. The other man gave him a half-confused look and Jaune sighed at it, knowing his father had a lot of adjusting to do and, fully aware of it, immaturely wanting him to just get over it already. "I have to meditate to coach myself and condition my mind. Get used to calling on that mindset at will. Just like when I call on the Force's twin sides, and balance them."

"What do you need to do that?" The man asked, putting aside his curiosities on how any of it worked and simply trying to make it work.

"Peace, quiet, and somewhere to sit." He answered simply, waving a hand at the garden and adding, "This place will do. It's quiet enough, peaceful enough, and lively enough for me to connect to both sides of the Force and find the balancing point for my meditation. Aside from that… I just need time, to build up the mental state and practice calling it up at will."

"Alright." the man grunted simply, pushing off the wall and giving him a nod. "I'll tell the guards not to bother you and let you get to it. I, uh…" The man gave an awkward smile and, attuned to the Force around them, Jaune sensed an odd anxiety and doubt within him before he finally said, "Love you, Son."

"Love you too, Dad." He said quietly, watching the man awkwardly shuffle before, finally, he turned and left. In the quiet left behind, Jaune wondered for a moment where the anxiety and doubt had come from, and why his father had felt it. Then, he closed his eyes and sat, taking a deep breath before finally letting his mind unfetter and flow away.

He had work to do.

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"Now," his father started the next day, after he'd spent enough time meditating and needed down time from it to rest his mind from that end of the spectrum, "you want your little… Vacation spot to stay a secret, yeah?"

"One, I would not call being trapped under a mountain for nearly half a decade to be trained by a sadistic robot any kind of a vacation, Dad." The older blonde simply shrugged and Jaune smirked in return, scratching his chin idly as they walked towards the door into the Hunter side of the manor. "Two, yes. I would like to keep it a secret."

"Why?"

"I… Have my reasons, Dad. Just trust me, okay?" The last thing he wanted was every Tom, Dick and Hairy trying to get down to Instructor to learn how to do all this. The sheer power and inherent risk of corruption would mean another war, and he'd read how destructive the Sith Wars had been. Less Force users meant less risk, so he would follow that logical line to the end. "Why do you ask? Have an idea for that?"

"Yep, I do. You need a Huntsman's weapons and armor, to blend in." He answered simply, pulling open the door to the manor and waving him in, the warmth of the manor rushing out of the open door like it wanted to fight the early morning, mountain chill that always swept down into Ansel from the surrounding heights. "So let's see what the old armory has still, after everything that's gone down."

Inside, the layout of the manor's architecture other side was basically the same as the other half's. Upstairs would be numerous bedrooms and bathrooms for Hunters to rest, get cleaned up and so on, with the addition of one of the corner rooms being retrofitted into an impromptu clinic room. He wasn't sure of the layout - he'd never really been in there when he was younger, and even if he had it would probably have changed over time - but he knew as much as that it was meant to treat and heal up Hunters coming in from a bad field trip. The corner opposite it, the size of two bedrooms and shaped like a 'V' in the corner, was the familial armory. Weapons, armor and the ability to make and customize both were stored there, along with historically important weapons and equipment left over from Arc Hunters past.

As much of that as there ever was, when one died in the field, of course...

The bottom was, as in the other section, divided between a cooking area like the family one ever since the redesigns and the sitting area, with a hearth set into the back. Instead of being designed for family gatherings, though, it had been laid out closer to a cafeteria, or a tavern in the books Jaune remembered reading as a kid. A dozen tables in two lines of six, each one round and made of the same dark wood as the building around them.

Once, Jaune remembered sneaking into here to see the Hunters in their bright colors and fancy weapons, entire teams of grizzled veterans and laughing teams of greener men and women. Out looking for adventure.

Just like he had been, when he went into that forest…

"Jaune?" His father's words shook him out of the moment, before he could get lost in the memories and nostalgia, and the man stepped in front of him. Taking up his entire vision, the older man laid a hand on his shoulder and asked, "Are you okay, son?"

"Yeah, just…" He sighed and waved a hand at the room morosely, "It's sad, seeing it like this. It was so vibrant and exciting as a kid, and now it's just empty. Lifeless. I can sense the vibrancy that was here, it's so ingrained into the Force, and now that it's gone I feel… Sad."

Even the chairs were up on the table, looking like they hadn't been used in a long time.

"We'll fix it." The man promised, resting a hand across Jaune's shoulders and guiding him around through the room. "We visit the armory, get you kitted out, and when Beacon's Headmistress gets here with your mom and the girls, we can start-"

"Mom's coming back?" He asked, ambient sadness suffusing the Force pushed aside as childish excitement overtook him like a storm, "A-And she's even bringing the girls? B-But how, it's the middle of the semester!"

"Heh, did you really think I wouldn't tell your mom you were home? And that something silly like school would keep your sisters from coming to see you?" The man snorted at the idea and shook his head, "Though, uh, she said she's bringing a blood test."

"A… Blood test?"

"To make sure you're who you say you are, I guess. Your mom has always been the paranoid on, haha… Yeah." The man shrugged after the weak laugh, giving Jaune the distinct impression he agreed with the test idea.

"I don't mind." He finally shrugged simply, stepping past the larger Arc an into the room at large. "It makes sense to run a blood test, I guess. And honestly? I'm just looking forward to seeing everyone, again, so no big deal."

He'd thought it would have to wait until the end of the academic year at the very least, and had been planning to get his dad to set up a video call with them that evening. But if they were coming here to see him? He could feel his excitement reverberating through the Force around him at the thought.

A little prick and a blood test was nothing to get in the way of that.

"That's my boy! If you ain't got nothing to hide, you ain't got nothing to worry about, right?" His father clapped him on the shoulder again, which earned a wince from him but little else, and then strode on purposefully as though nothing had happened. "Now c'mon, we gotta get you geared and training. I have a lot of catchin' up to do."

"Catching up?" He caught after a second, smiling thinly and sadly at the man's back and calling out, "You don't have to make up for anything, you know?"

"I… Well then." The man stilled, halfway across the room and leaning on a table. Then he turned and gave Jaune a small, knowing smile, "Agree to disagree, Jaune. Some tin man trained my boy for four years more than I got to, and next year you're headed to Beacon to get Ansel back up and running, so I have to try extra hard to get as much time as I can with you."

"Sure." He sighed, "Agree to disagree. Now, a weapon and armor?"

"Of course!" The old man nodded, excited like a child headed to open presents for his birthday. An infectious sort of energy that Jaune couldn't keep from stretching an excited grin across his own face in response. "C'mon, let's get you kitted out. I already picked out some gear and a weapon for you. You like to run light, right?"

"Yeah." He'd only ever fought in his robes, after all, even if he did want to eventually wear heavier protection. "Why?"

"You'll see." His father grinned as they started to climb the stairs, almost cheshire looking in the dimness of the building, most of the lights left off since no one needed them aside form the warm backlighting along the edges of the walls, casting the wide room in orange hues and long shadows.

Inside, Jaune remembered the armory being lined on both sides with every manner of weapon imaginable, right and left both full to the brim. On the right had always gear, stowed by Hunters resting for the night to head out the next day. Now, those lockers were dusty, and the hangers, holsters and tables for setting weapons on and maintaining them were all unused save the closest on to the left side. The side Jaune saw his father's sword resting on a wall hanger on it, in a long line of more classical, Arc weapons.

Many Hunters tended to use versatile, mechashift weapons. Jacks of all trades made of metal and Dust powered fury, swung by people who fought in the same way. The Arc family, though, was one of the few that preferred more specialized, classical weapons. Crocea Mors was an important family artifact and it hung in the Hunter's Hall below, for instance, after its service in the Great War, and it was only a longsword and kite-shield.

Spears, handaxes, war axes, swords of a dozen Valean varieties and more lined the outside wall. Each clean and polished, likely by his father now that the girls were off in Vale, as though they were new and just waiting on the day they were taken out to fight Grimm and protect people again. In between the two walls was a wide work table to maintain the weapons, with tools and rags scattered across it from use.

On the other side of that, though, was a suit of polished and pristine looking armor. Thick leather, fingerless gloves and boots that climbed up halfway to his knee, all backed in plated silver steel edged in dull and ruddy bronze to protect the outward surfaces. Both those were old and repaired, evidenced by scars on the metal and leather both. Like wounds dotting an old warrior's body, telling tales of what he'd been through.

The torso was a light breastplate, made of thin, plated steel embedded into thick and sturdy leather. Over his shoulders were small, leather pauldrons, added padding to catch claws and blades in instead of his flesh and bone beneath. Little clasps shaped like the Arc symbol were stitched into the connection between the leather pauldrons and the leather cuirass. From those, a hooded, dark blue traveling cloak flowed, almost to the point where his knees would be.

"Light, Dust enhanced and stitched leather armor topped with Dust infused Silver-Steel plates." His father explained when he caught Jaune staring, grinning at the mildly embarrassed expression the young Force warrior wore when he looked at him and knew he'd been caught out. "The armor will fit right over your robes, and the dark blue of the cloak will match pretty well too."

"I like it." It would protect him without hindering his movement, at least… And he'd actually get to wear real shoes, too. Raising a hand to rest on the cool steel, he asked, "You said there was a weapon, too?"

"Yep." He turned when he sensed something in the air coming towards him, and hand snapping up to grab the haft of the weapon he'd been thrown. "Figured you used a staff looking thing, and you said it had blades yesterday, so… Thoughts?"

The weapon was another polearm, like his, with a long wooden haft about three feet in length and bound in aged looking leather, a round piece of iron on the bottom for counter-balance. At the end of the haft, on top of a rounded bronze guard, a long blade added another foot to its length. It was double-sided, chipped on one of them, and clearly as old as it was dangerous. He bounced it in his grip and spun it around his palm to test the weight and balance, grinning in satisfaction at it.

"I like it." The young blonde said quietly, other hand snapping up to catch the short sheath that came with it, sliding it on while he spoke, "You were doing this all yesterday while I was meditating, weren't you?"

"I'm glad you like it-"

"Saphron is coming." He said suddenly, cutting the man off and narrowing his brows in worry. "And she feels… Anxious, frightened, angry and confused. Looking for you, Dad, and in a hurry."

"Saphron was on gate duty today…" The man straightened, all humor vanishing in an instant as he considered what Jaune had said. Laying a hand on his shoulder he talked quickly, the words rushing out in a torrent, "We need to get armored up, Jaune. And quick."

"Why?"

"If Saphron is looking for me, and she's upset like you say…" The man grimaced and gave a shake of his head and a sigh, "Means we have a fight coming to us. Grimm or those damn bandits, but I won't know until I get there. Are you up for a fight?"

"If I have to be, yes. I can fight, even if I end up using my 'saber instead of my polearm." He nodded, and the grim way his father nodded told him that was probably a fact. It was like the Force was intent on screwing him at every turn, he could swear... "Help me get my armor on, then. It'll be faster if you do, I don't know how to yet. I'll go talk to Saph and we'll meet up at the front gate."

"Sounds like a plan." The man agreed, either because they couldn't argue or he didn't see a reason to, Jaune couldn't be sure.

"Grimm." The words left her mouth as soon as Jaune came around the corner into the courtyard outside with his new weapon in his hand and his saber on his back, between the cloak and his armor. Around her, the interior gate-guards anxiously exchanged glances and hovered close enough to keep up with what was being said. "Beowolves, chased a Hunter in. She said her partner stayed behind to buy her time, but the woman is panicked and hurt. Where's Dad?"

"Up in the armory, getting dressed." If the Huntress had been panicking and upset, even understandably so, on her way back in then they'd sense the panic and track it. Like a wolf with a scent, quite obviously. "He said he'd meet us at the gates no matter what. What's the plan?"

"We stab them all as they climb the wall." She shrugged, gesturing with her long spear meaningfully towards the gate. "Let's go, Bro. Hope you're ready to kill some Grimm, because we're about to have some."

He was, he was sure of it. He'd fought against Instructor countless times, and killed Grimm as well on his way home. But that surety didn't keep him from being at least a little bit nervous about the whole ordeal.