Jaune Arc: Of Souls and Starlight

The morning mist clung to the trees like a lazy ghost, drifting between the red-gold leaves of the Forever Fall Forest as students of Beacon milled about the launch platform. The forest, beautiful in its eerie stillness, stood in stark contrast to the sharp click of Glynda Goodwitch's heels against the stone.

She stopped, turned to face the gathered students, and adjusted her glasses with precise authority.

"Today's mission," she announced, "is not combat-focused, but it will test your coordination, navigation, and discipline. Professor Patch has requested samples of high-viscosity sap from this region for his studies. Each team will collect two full bottles of sap from designated trees. Treat this as a field assignment, and complete it efficiently."

A pause.

"And no, Miss Valkyrie, the sap is not for drinking."

Nora's hand—already raised—slowly lowered in defeat. "You can't prove that's what I was gonna ask," she muttered.

Glynda gave her a long stare that said yes, I absolutely can, before turning on her heel and walking away with her scroll already open, likely filing three different paperwork requests at once.

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Team JNPR had ventured deep into the glowing woods, leaves crunching beneath their boots as sunlight filtered down like blood through a sieve. The forest shimmered with unnatural beauty — and maybe a little danger, too — but they were in high spirits.

"Alright," Jaune said, unrolling the satchel of bottles. "Two bottles of sap. Sounds easy. What's the catch?"

Ren tapped a nearby tree with a metal spigot, already setting up their first collection jar. "That's the catch. It takes time."

Nora, crouched by a second tree, was licking her finger after swiping some sap. "Tastes like syrup, lies, and bad decisions. I love it."

"That's the fifth tree you've tasted," Pyrrha chided gently, collecting a full bottle and sealing it with a cork. "You're going to rot your teeth."

"No worries! They're my combat teeth! Totally replaceable!"

The group settled into a rhythm: tap, wait, collect. Jaune whistled a tune that vaguely resembled the Beacon school anthem (or a dying bird). Pyrrha recounted a tale about Mistrali maple syrup being used as a bartering chip in civil disputes. Ren silently judged everyone. Nora, true to form, was sneaking sips from every bottle she could get her hands on.

By the time they had five bottles filled, having been already well above the required amount the mood turned light light, full of laughter and jokes.

Then came the sixth tree.

Unbeknownst to Team JNPR, Cardin Winchester and his ever-useless minions were watching from behind a bush with all the subtlety of a dying chainsaw.

Cardin clenched a jar of sap like it was a hand grenade, whispering with theatrical menace. "Time for payback, Arc... No one embarrasses me in front of the entire cafeteria and gets away with it."

Russel looked uncertain. "Uh... is this really the best—"

"Silence, Shortwings! This... is art."

With a grunt, Cardin lobbed the jar in a high arc.

Splat.

The jar burst against Jaune's back, sticky sap coating his armor and splattering across his shoulder like gooey amber shame.

Jaune froze. Everyone did.

"What the actual hell?" he groaned, trying to wipe it off with a leaf. Bad idea. The leaf got stuck.

Nora gasped. "He's been SACRIFICED TO THE TREE GODS!"

Pyrrha turned toward the direction the jar had come from, eyes narrowed. "That was definitely Cardin."

Ren scanned the nearby brush but found nothing.

Jaune raised a sticky hand. "We don't have proof. No one saw him do it. Can't exactly drag him to Glynda by his stupid hair."

Nora muttered darkly, "I could try."

"No violence," Jaune said with a sigh. "Let's just finish this and go."

Pyrrha gave a half-smile. "Well… at least it can't get worse than this, right?"

Fate: "You Sure About That?"

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The first sign something was wrong wasn't the growl—it was the silence.

The red canopy swayed above them, rustling softly like the forest itself was whispering. Team JNPR stood still, a subtle tension creeping into their limbs. The silence was sudden—too sudden. The birds had gone quiet. The breeze had stilled. Even Nora had stopped slurping sap for once.

Then the growl came.

Low. Deep. The kind of sound that didn't come from anything small or safe. It rolled through the air like thunder bubbling in the throat of the earth.

Jaune's fingers curled tighter around Crocea Mors, the hilt rough and familiar in his hand. He didn't know why, but he took one step forward to shield the others. Just like always.

"Ursa," Pyrrha said, her tone calm. "We can handle a Minor."

The brush shifted.

A beast emerged.

At first glance, it was just an Ursa. Massive, shaggy, claws the size of carving knives and a bone mask where its face should be. But the longer they looked… the more details refused to stay subtle.

Its shoulders were broader. Muscles bulged beneath the black fur like twisted steel cables. Its bone mask was longer, sharper—etched with crimson markings that glowed like burning coals. Its breath steamed from its maw, and its claws tore the ground with each step.

That wasn't just an Ursa.

"That's a Major," Ren muttered, eyes narrowing.

"Welp," Jaune said. "We're boned."

From behind them came a blur of petals, boots hitting dirt with practiced momentum.

"Did someone say boss fight?" came Ruby's voice.

Team RWBY landed behind Team JNPR like backup summoned from an RPG. Ruby skid to a halt, Crescent Rose snapping into scythe form. Yang cracked her knuckles, fire flickering in her eyes. Weiss spun Myrtenaster between her fingers, ice glinting on the blade's tip. Blake dropped into a crouch, shadows gathering behind her.

"You guys always throw the best parties," Yang quipped.

"Bit early for 'last rites,'" Jaune said, gripping his sword.

The Ursa Major roared, shaking branches from the trees. And charged.

The battlefield exploded.

Weiss moved first, glyphs flashing beneath her feet as she launched toward the front. An ice wall erupted from the earth—crystalline, sharp, and tall. The Ursa crashed through it like glass, shards flying as it barely slowed. Weiss spun off the ground, creating three more glyphs in midair, and launched a volley of Dust strikes, each colliding in bright flashes against its hide.

Ruby zipped to the side, her cape trailing like a crimson comet. She fired several precision shots into the beast's legs, trying to destabilize it. One bullet caught it square in the knee—forcing it to stagger.

Pyrrha darted in, Milo snapping from rifle to spear. She drove it deep into the Ursa's thigh before twisting and flipping backwards, launching Akouo—her round shield—like a discus at its face.

The beast caught it in its claws… and crushed it.

"Okay, that's a problem," Pyrrha muttered.

Ren followed up, StormFlower humming as he dashed between its legs. He struck precise pressure points, each blow causing small stumbles in its stance, but it was barely enough to slow it.

Then—

BOOM!

Nora dropped from the treetops like a missile, her battle cry practically seismic.

"VAULTING VALKYRIE!"

She brought Magnhild down in a two-handed hammer strike, slamming the Ursa's back. It roared in pain and rage, spinning wildly—and backhanded her into a tree trunk.

Nora hit it with a thunderous crack and slid to the ground, groaning. "Tastes like sap. And internal bleeding…"

Yang charged. Ember Celica flared as she rocketed forward, launching punch after punch into the beast's face. Flames danced around her hair as she landed a solid uppercut that twisted the Ursa's head sideways.

It growled—then roared again.

And smashed Yang into the ground, lifting her with a claw and throwing her through three trees.

Jaune saw it all happen in slow motion.

Yang's body sailed across the clearing, smoke trailing from her aura. She wasn't getting up fast enough. His legs moved before his brain caught up.

"YANG!"

He caught her just before her head struck a rock, stumbling under her weight but keeping upright.

Her eyes fluttered. "Hey, Handsome Hero…"

"Don't move," Jaune muttered. He pressed his hands against her ribs—pure instinct—and his Aura flared.

Golden light surged from his palms, crawling over her body like gentle fire. Her aura, cracked and flickering, knit itself back together. Her eyes snapped open, and she gasped—her bruises fading right in front of her.

"What was that?" she whispered.

"I don't know," Jaune said. But he did know.

Somewhere deep inside, something clicked.

He felt a pulse. His aura wasn't just reaching out—it was linking.

Yang stood, her hair catching the wind.

Her flames turned blue.

Everyone paused for half a beat.

"…Whoa," Ruby breathed.

Yang grinned. "I feel like a freaking dragon."

Jaune looked at his hands—still glowing. Still connected. He felt the links, like strands of spider-silk reaching out.

He didn't hesitate.

He ran.

Ruby. Weiss. Blake. Ren. Nora. One by one, he tapped them, feeling his aura sync with theirs. As if lending his power into their veins.

"WHAT IS HE DOING?!" Cardin screamed from the bush.

"Being cooler than you," muttered Russel.

Suddenly—

—Ruby blurred into overdrive, petals swirling so fast they left shockwaves in her wake.

—Weiss's glyphs now froze the air itself, forming platforms mid-combat that she danced across like a storm goddess.

—Blake's clones multiplied. One, two, four, eight—striking from every side.

—Ren moved in silence, the shadows guiding his steps. Unseen. Untouchable.

—And Nora…

Her next hammer strike cracked the earth like a lightning bolt, Magnhild glowing with power.

"Jaune, whatever you did," Weiss yelled, "KEEP DOING IT."

The Ursa couldn't keep up.

It swiped at Blake, but hit air.

It roared at Ruby, but she vanished.

Ren sliced its eyes. Weiss froze its joints. Nora smashed its knee.

And Yang—glowing, flaming, laughing like a demon—punched it so hard in the jaw it nearly toppled.

Then Jaune saw it—the opening.

"NOW!" he shouted.

He tossed Crocea Mors and his shield straight into the air, activating every ounce of aura he had.

He sprinted toward the center of the field. As his shield came down, he jumped—legs glowing gold—and landed feet-first on the descending shield.

Just as it hit, Nora screamed, "SKY HIGH SPECIAL!" and slammed her hammer against the shield like a baseball bat.

BOOM.

Jaune launched like a meteor, spinning midair, grabbing his sword.

Everything slowed.

The Ursa looked up, too late.

And Jaune came crashing down.

Crocea Mors split the Ursa from skull to sternum—a geyser of black mist exploded as the beast's aura shattered and its body slumped to the ground in two massive halves.

The battlefield went still.

Even the wind held its breath.

Jaune stood in the fading remnants of the Ursa's destruction, golden light crackling off him like static.

Then—

Click.

He turned.

Glynda Goodwitch stood at the edge of the clearing. Beside her, Pyrrha looked stunned.

Glynda blinked once.

"Well," she said, adjusting her glasses. "It seems I arrived late."

Jaune blinked.

"Did we win?"

Then his knees buckled—and all he could think before darkness took him was: "Damn. im Definately gonna feel this in the morning"

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The sterile scent of antiseptic wrapped around Jaune like a cold blanket. Blinking against the bright fluorescent lights, he slowly became aware of the gentle hum of medical equipment — machines quietly keeping watch over his battered body.

His muscles ached as if he'd been tossed by a grizzly bear and then asked to run a marathon. Bandages hugged his forehead, a few bruises painted his cheeks, and a faint pulse throbbed in his jaw.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Mr. Arc."

Jaune turned his head toward the voice and found Glynda Goodwitch standing in the doorway, clipboard in hand, her signature cape folded neatly at her side. Even here, her presence commanded respect.

He tried to sit up but groaned as his back protested.

"Easy," Glynda said, stepping forward to help him settle back.

"Did… did we win?" Jaune croaked.

Glynda's gaze softened just a bit. "Yes. The Ursa Major is no more."

Jaune exhaled a shaky breath, relief and exhaustion mingling inside him. "Feels like I got stomped by a mountain."

"Well, you did face something very close to one," Glynda replied with a rare hint of a smile.

Jaune looked around the room, spotting his sword, Crocea Mors, resting on a chair nearby — cleaned and carefully placed.

Someone had even left a cup of lukewarm tea and a small plate of cookies on the bedside table. A folded note caught his eye.

"Don't eat the sap pudding they give here. It's a trap. – Ruby"

He let out a tired chuckle. "Of course she left a note."

Glynda stepped closer, folding her arms. "Your semblance… what you did out there—it was unexpected."

Jaune frowned. "I was just trying to keep everyone alive."

"And you did. More than that, you amplified everyone's aura. Not just a little—you pushed it to levels rarely seen, especially for a single person."

Jaune's fingers twitched. "That's… good, right?"

"It's remarkable," Glynda said. "But also dangerous. Without control, it could overwhelm you or your teammates."

He swallowed. "Sounds like homework."

"Indeed. I'll be overseeing your training personally."

Jaune nodded slowly, processing the weight of her words.

"Good." She made a note on the clipboard, paused at the door. "Dinner is being served in the cafeteria. Your team has been asking for you."

She turned, pausing again. "Oh—and Mr. Arc?"

"Yeah?"

Glynda looked at him over her glasses.

"Excellent work today."

Then she left.

Jaune stared at the closed door for a long second.

And then flopped back down onto the pillows.

"I am never topping that moment again, am I?"

From the hallway came a familiar Nora voice: "JAUNE'S AWAKE! REN! GET THE PANCAKES!"

Jaune's eyes widened. "Wait, what? No, wait, what pancakes?!"

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The Beacon cafeteria buzzed like a beehive on double espresso—clinking silverware, the low hum of chatter, and the occasional laugh that bounced off the high ceilings.

Team JNPR had claimed their usual corner by the windows, the spot where the sun hit just right and where Nora could loudly proclaim her dominion over the syrup dispenser.

Today, Nora was on a one-woman mission.

"Ren!" she declared, slamming her tray down with the intensity of a pancake general issuing orders. "I require reinforcements."

Ren, unfazed as always, raised an eyebrow over his cup of jasmine tea. His expression screamed, I have already surrendered mentally, but he answered in his trademark calm.

"You have pancakes. What more could you need?"

"These," Nora said, holding up a tiny dish, "are tactical pancakes. They need back-up!"

"Backup pancakes? Are those like the special ops of breakfast food?" Jaune asked as he entered, wincing as he settled gingerly into his chair. His armor was still dented, bandages peeking from beneath the cracks.

Pyrrha smiled warmly and helped set down his tray. "You really shouldn't be up and about so soon."

"If I'm stuck in that infirmary room any longer, I'm going to start making friends with the medical equipment," Jaune grumbled.

Yang, sitting nearby with RWBY, tossed a sly grin his way. "Or worse—start flirting with the IV stands."

"I wouldn't put it past him," Weiss muttered, stirring her tea with delicate disdain. "Some people have low standards."

Jaune scoffed. "Well, I'd at least want a charming IV stand. Someone who knows how to administer a proper dose of sarcasm."

The table chuckled, but then Jaune focused on his meal—a steaming bowl of creamy pumpkin bisque, its rich aroma promising comfort after the day's chaos. On the side, golden-crusted garlic rolls rested temptingly.

Jaune lifted a roll, dipping it generously into the bisque, soaking the bread until it glistened. Then, in a move nobody expected (except maybe those who'd witnessed his coffee dip before), he proceeded to dip that same bread into his coffee mug.

There was a collective record scratch.

Blake choked on her grilled fish bite.

Ruby's cookie paused mid-air. "Wait… what did he just do?"

Weiss set down her teacup, eyes wide in horror. "Bread... in coffee? That's sacrilege!"

Yang snorted, barely containing her laughter. "Well, at least it's a brew-tiful disaster."

Ren sighed deeply, the sound of a man resigning himself to a lifetime of weird food choices. "It has begun."

Nora, eyes blazing with mock outrage, pointed at Jaune. "You can't just ruin perfectly good food like that!"

Jaune blinked, utterly oblivious to the rising chaos around him. "What? Coffee's warm, bread's warm. It's like a cozy, caffeinated cuddle."

Pyrrha shook her head, amused. "That's not how any of this works."

"It's aggressively not how any of this works," Blake agreed.

Yang grinned, swirling her own soup bowl. "So basically, Jaune's eating habits are soup-er dangerous."

"That's soup-er cheesy, Yang," Weiss said, voice dripping with faux disdain. "And you fish for applause every time."

Blake smirked. "Maybe it's a fishy situation."

Ruby let out a groan that screamed "kill me now".

Jaune threw up his hands. "Guys, guys—food is just food. I'm here for the calories and the company."

After another round of banter the eventually table shifted their attention to their own meals:

Ruby was busily crushing a mountain of chocolate chip cookies, crumbs cascading like tiny avalanches onto the table.

Weiss nibbled daintily on steamed asparagus and baby carrots, her posture as perfect as ever.

Blake's plate featured delicately grilled salmon, the flaky texture visible even from a distance.

Yang attacked her plate of golden fried fish and chips with reckless abandon, stealthily snatching a cookie from Ruby whenever possible.

Ren had long since finished his salad, now peacefully sipping jasmine tea with a serene expression that suggested his soul was temporarily on vacation.

Nora, of course, was still obsessively eyeing the syrup dispenser like it was her sworn enemy.

Jaune sighed, leaning back with a contented grin. "You know... after all that, this... this is the kind of peace I fight for."

Pyrrha smiled softly. "You've earned it."

Jaune muttered, "Almost died for it."

Yang raised her glass of soda. "To Jaune—the guy who survived an Ursa Major, dips bread in coffee, and somehow still walks upright."

Everyone raised their glasses, laughter and warmth filling the space.

"To Jaune!"

Jaune blinked. "Wait, is this a thing now?"

Ruby grinned. "Shut up and toast already."

He chuckled, clinking his mug with theirs.

The meal continued, full of easy jokes, teasing, and the kind of camaraderie that only comes after surviving the impossible.

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Hey there, awesome readers! Thanks for sticking with me through all the sap, fights, and ahem unconventional cafeteria etiquette. Yes, Jaune dipped bread in coffee again. I swear it's a signature move now. Don't ask me why—it just works in his head. Maybe next chapter he'll start dunking pancakes in soda. Who knows?

Okay, serious-ish talk: I want to remind you that I don't own RWBY or any of its amazing characters. That honor belongs to Monty Oum and Rooster Teeth. I'm just here playing in their sandbox, trying not to break anything too badly.

Now, about Jaune's semblance… drumroll please — what you saw in the fight was just the tip of the aura iceberg. It's partially unlocked and already got a serious buff, but there's way more to come. I promised you a cool semblance, and believe me, I'm going to deliver. It probably won't be exactly how you expect it (no spoilers, but think less "basic healing" and more "some next-level support madness"). Stay tuned, because the full reveal is coming up, and I'm pumped to share it.

Also, I'm almost done crafting his new weapon—finally! Expect it to show up in the next two or three chapters. Spoiler alert: it's not your average sword-and-shield combo. It's a bit wild, a bit unique, and totally Jaune. Can't wait for you all to see it.

Thanks again for reading and for all the support. Your feedback, theories, and memes keep me going! Now buckle up, because the adventure is just getting started.

Catch you next chapter!

— UB

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Alternate titles:

Jaune's Semblance: Just When You Thought It Was Safe to Relax,

Lions, Tigers, and Bea—IS THAT AN URSA?!

Fate Teaches Pyrrha a Valuable Lesson: Why You Shouldn't F*ckin' Tempt Her