This story is one I came up with over Xmas and was looking forward to writing. It's based on Wuxia and martial arts, but with more grounded "aura" based martial arts for RWBY, rather than crouching tiger flying martial artist. For those wondering, Xia means "virtuous" or sometimes "vigilante" and is pronounced "Sha—" It's a relatively quick sound, like the drawing of a sword. Not a slow word like the sha in "shaman".

Chapter 1

Jaune woke with a gasp and a cry, lashing out with one arm for a monster poised to rip his throat out. His hand sailed through nothingness, dispelling the lingering memories that clung to his mind and revealing them as little more than phantoms. Nightmares.

No. They were memories.

Laid out on his back, he realised he was on a bed of some kind. Low to the ground, flat, and not quite as comfortable as his own. He held up his arm and looked at the oddly willowy sleeves. His shirt was gone, replaced with soft fabrics that were a little too large for him. They criss-crossed over his chest and were tucked into a belt. Someone had cleaned and dressed him. That meant he was safe. He was alive.

But his family—

Rolling out from under the thick blanket laid out over him, Jaune pushed down and to his feet, staggering slightly as a wave of nausea threatened to overcome him. He took a moment to gather himself, one hand on his chest, and to look around at his surroundings. He had been laid to rest in a small room with wooden walls and a few simple pieces of furniture of different colours of wood. There were candles unlit on a low table with a cushion for kneeling on, and no sign of dust-powered electricity. The floorboards were pale but solid, and long, narrow paintings hung vertically from slats of wood on the walls.

Instead of a normal door there was a sliding one, drawn open with warm air wafting in. It was daytime outside, with light coming in through narrow horizontal holes by the ceiling. He was barefoot and garbed in robes of blue and white. He'd been right to say they were too big for his thirteen-year-old frame, but they weren't that much larger. The sleeves were just wide open, hanging down when he held his arms out.

Someone had saved him from the Grimm which had been chasing him. That much was clear. Had they been able to save anyone else—? Jaune took a deep breath and, after a quick but fruitless search for his shoes, padded outside on bare feet. Flagstones had been laid between grass to form pathways and the sun had warmed them up, making it not too uncomfortable to walk on them.

He'd been laid in a small outhouse of sorts, to the side of a large, three-floored structure built like the temples he'd seen in pictures of Mistral. Each floor was smaller than the one beneath, with sloped rooftops coming out on each one before reaching a triangular peak at the very top. Around it stood two other buildings, each the same as the one he had been in. Just simple rectangles that stood out by virtue of looking so drab and unimpressive compared to the main temple. There was a courtyard in front, and a low wall only about six feet tall around the perimeter.

"You are awake," said an elderly voice. "That is good."

There was a man to his left, coming from the smaller building at the back and stood now on the flagstones with his hands linked behind his back. The first thing Jaune noticed about him was that the blue and white robes were the same as his own, and that he'd obviously dressed Jaune in them. The second thing he noticed was that the man wasn't just old, but ancient.

His skin was dark and wrinkly like parchment, his eyes narrow and an exotic pink, and his hair was white and grey, streaked and long, coming down the sides of his face to his chest, and down his back tied in a wide ponytail to his waist. An equally white and pointed beard hung down to the centre of his chest, trimmed like an upside down triangle. He honestly looked like he could be close to a hundred years old, and yet he was straight-backed and relaxed on his feet, with wise eyes and a gentle smile.

"Who are you—?" asked Jaune, without thinking.

"It is rude to intrude upon a man's home and savour his hospitality without first introducing yourself," the man replied. "And ruder still to demand a name without offering your own."

Jaune's eyes widened. "Sorry! I'm Jaune Arc. May I ask your name, sir?"

The man nodded. "Better. I am Shu Ren, the master of the temple of the Lotus Sect." He chuckled dryly. "Or what little remains of it. Well met to you, Jaune Arc." The man placed his hands before him, one in a fist and the other palm out, meeting fist to palm. He bowed his head, a simple nod, but it looked like an important gesture.

Jaune did his best to mimic it back. "Nice to meet you as well, Mr Shu."

"Call me Master Ren, please. It is my title."

"Sorry—"

"You would apologise less if you learned more." The man quoted what felt to Jaune like an old proverb. "But to apologise often is to cheapen the act. Do not apologise for what you cannot have known. Simply learn from it."

"Um. Yes, Master Ren…"

"Better. Now, child, tell me what brought you – hounded by two Grimm, no less – to my temple."

Jaune's eyes widened. "My family!" he cried. He saw the man's face and his confusion. "M—My village was attacked," he hastened to explain. "The village of Ansel. Everyone was told to run when the walls broke and— and I don't know what happened to my family. There were Grimm everywhere, a—and people dying."

The screams came back to him and tears ran down his cheeks. Jaune's words failed then, and he fell to his knees, shaking and vomiting onto the floor. It had happened before night, and it was day now, which meant it had been a whole day since the attack. There was nothing he could do, and the helplessness tore away at him.

"Come now. It will be alright." Master Ren helped him up and escorted him to the main temple, sat him down and forced a cup of cool water into his hands, then made him drink. The man knelt beside him, simply allowing Jaune to run out of steam.

When he did, a realisation struck him. "W—What happened to the Grimm that were chasing me?"

"They threatened the safety of one I had welcomed into the temple. I dispatched them."

"You—?"

The old man in front of him didn't look capable of killing Grimm, but to live out here in the middle of nowhere and survive to such an age, Jaune supposed he must have had some skills. Maybe he was a retired huntsman who had outlived his family. The specifics didn't matter. All that mattered was that the man was strong.

"Please!" Jaune begged, clasping his hands in front of him. "Please, my village. They need help!"

"From your story, I fear your village may not stand." Master Ren said it calmly, and not cruelly. "Do you understand that?"

"I… I need to know," he whispered, voice hoarse. "Please…"

"Hmmm." Master Ren closed his eyes. "Very well. We shall return to your village and seek survivors."

"You will!?"

"I said I shall, did I not? But you must temper your expectations, child. It has been a full night since your village was attacked, and you must have run far to reach my temple and collapse here. I can bring you to your home, but I cannot work miracles." He settled his wide, pink eyes on Jaune and said, "You must be prepared for the worst."

/-/

Tracing his steps back to Ansel was not difficult with the trail of devastation the Grimm had left in chasing him. Master Ren had given him back his shoes, slick with mud and blood, but told him to give up on his other clothes. The bloody pile left of them had convinced Jaune of the wisdom there, as there would be no saving them, and they weren't important anyway.

He was more worried about getting home, and then, suddenly, of Shu Ren even making the journey. The man was elderly and it was a trip that had made Jaune pass out, albeit he'd been chased by Grimm. Even so, he was used to the older people in Ansel needing help getting up and out of their chairs, so it was a surprise when Shu Ren flowed from a kneeling position to standing, and then kept pace with Jaune through the forests with ease.

No. He was better than that. Shu Ren traversed the uneven terrain like a mountain goat, casually skipping over holes and fallen logs, and never once struggling for balance. It was like Jaune was looking at a young man trapped in the body of a pensioner. Shu Ren managed it all in flowing robes without once stumbling or even snagging fabric on a branch.

They made good time.

But it wasn't good enough.

He saw the smoke of Ansel's ruin before he saw the village itself, and when he did, a cry escaped him, shaking birds from the nearby trees. He made to sprint ahead into the ruined village, only to be halted by Shu Ren grasping his elbow. The old man was strong enough that he stopped Jaune in his tracks, yanking him back without so much as being tugged off his own feet.

"Calm," he said. "And with me. Your family, if they yet live, would not thank you rushing to your demise. Besides," he added, with eyes strained on the village. "The Grimm are yet still here."

"How do you know?"

"I hear them."

Jaune strained his own ears but could hear nothing but the sound of their clothes in the wind, and the birds landing once more on new branches. He was about to say just that when a chuffing, huffing sound reaches his ears a second before a huge Grimm approached. He realised with horror that it must have been drawn by his voice. He'd alerted the Ursa and drawn it here.

"Foul creature," said Shu Ren, stepping forward with his arms behind his back as before. "Your kind are a blight upon this beautiful world."

The huge bearlike creature didn't take that well, roaring and lunging for the elderly man with one huge arm raised up high. Jaune stood frozen, knowing he couldn't do a thing and that he'd brought the man here. He knew Shu Ren had killed the Grimm chasing him, but he wasn't prepared and didn't have a weapon drawn—

Shu Ren leant back at the waist, bending so far that his upper body was almost horizontal to the ground. One foot slid back to balance him but that was all he needed. As the fist sailed overhead, he swept to the side and back up, more flexible than a man his age had any right to be. The Grimm brought its other paw down, but Shu Ren stepped gracefully to the side, into the Grimm's guard.

He brought two fingers up, his index and middle finger, and jabbed them into the Grimm's throat, striking a single time before swaying back out the way of a sweep. Shu Ren stepped calmly back to where he had begun, his hands behind his back once more.

"It is done," he said. "Come Jaune. Let us seek your family."

Jaune hadn't moved. "B—But the Grimm!"

"Hmmm? Did you not hear me?" Shu Ren turned his back on the creature. "It is done."

Even the Grimm looked surprised, but only for a moment. The creature opened its mouth to roar— but didn't. No sound came forth, and the monster seemed confused by that as well. It tried again, with no sound coming, and then frantically began to scratch at its neck where Shu Ren had struck it but one time. Its red eyes showed panic for the first time, and the creature leapt for Shu Ren, only to fall on its front.

And fade into dust.

"I will not repeat myself for a third time," said Shu Ren, already walking on ahead toward Ansel.

Jaune scrambled after him.

More Grimm faced them as they approached the ruined walls, and yet each and every one of them was dispatched with the same ease and skill. Shu Ren – no, Master Ren – danced among them, evading and redirecting their blows with simple movements, and retaliating with punches, palm strikes and jabs of his fingers that seemed to do almost impossible amounts of damage. If he had a weapon, Jaune would have understood it, but all he could imagine was that Master Ren had a Semblance of some kind. An ability to kill things with a touch.

What was abundantly clear was that they were in no danger here. Master Ren had killed no less than twelve Grimm already, sometimes three at a time, and his breathing wasn't even laboured. Instead, he looked around Ansel with a soft and profound expression, taking in the ruins of Jaune's home with genuine sorrow.

"It is regretful that I could not stop this," he said. "Had I known… but I did not. I cannot apologise for that which I could not have done, but I will say this: I am sorry you had to experience this, and I am sorry for those who fell."

Something about Master Ren's tone was so wise and so absolute that it came across as simple fact. He couldn't have known Ansel was in danger, so there was no point blaming him. Jaune didn't even feel angry at what most would have seen as an abdication of responsibility.

"Thank you," said Jaune. "My home is nearby. I… My father is a huntsman but he was called away to the war. A lot of the fighting men and women were. We were told other protections would be put in place, but all that meant was a few wounded soldiers to train up those too old to fight." Jaune clenched his fists. "Fat lot of good they did."

"The war." Shu Ren sucked on aged gums. "Yes, the war. Terrible thing."

There was an odd note to the way he said that. Jaune noticed it even in this terrible place.

"You do know there's a war on. Don't you?"

"There's always one conflict or another on but look at me. I am an old man. The years blend when you reach my age. Which war is it now?" Master Ren grumbled and stroked at his long white beard. "I thought the land was just out of one. Hadn't we just finished the faunus rebellions? What is it this time? Have we offended another group?"

"It's the faunus wars."

"Still!? I thought the faunus won that two decades ago."

"That's the faunus rebellion, and they did." It had been before Jaune was born, and yet Master Ren acted like it was just yesterday. Maybe it was to a man who looked like he'd lived eight or nine of Jaune's lifetimes. "The faunus were given Menagerie and moved to settle there, but nothing much changed in how they were treated and how poorly they were paid. Or so they say." Of course the faunus would want their side to be sympathetic. "And I guess they didn't think it made much sense that the victorious side should be forced to give up their homes and move to an abandoned island to start afresh while the losers of the war got to keep everything."

"I expect they did not," agreed Master Ren, stroking his long beard between his index finger and thumb. "One must wonder how the defeated humans managed to convince them that a worthwhile surrender in the first place. I expect some among the faunus were bought off, betraying their own kind for riches and favour. Hmmm. So it begins anew, does it? How troublesome. I'd have thought Remnant would have had enough of war after the first time. They called it the Great War back then, you know. Said it would be the war to end all wars. Pah." He laughed coldly. "I have lived through four in my lifetime alone. I do not see war ever truly ending. Even should one kingdom conquer all others, they would surely fall to civil war once their empire becomes overstretched."

Jaune shrugged. Talk of politics wasn't anything he'd been interested in before and it certainly wasn't now. The only reason he hadn't run on ahead was because Master Ren was his only protection against the Grimm.

"My house is over there," he said, making a hint as he pointed. Thankfully, Master Ren took it and followed him without further comment.

The Arc family home was still standing. A lot of Ansel was. The Grimm didn't care much to damage buildings other than to break down doors, and even then it was only if they knew people were behind them. There were no Grimm at his home, and that didn't comfort Jaune any. When they came close, he broke into a sprint, forgetting his own fear. Master Ren swept after him, not seeming to run but somehow keeping up with him, his long, flowing pant legs swishing in the breeze.

"Mom!?" he shouted, throwing caution to the wind. "Saphron? Sable, Coral, Jade, Hazel, Lavender, Amber! Anyone!?"

The silence was damning.

Jaune burst through the destroyed door and into the main hallway. The walls were torn asunder, with great scar marks across the wood ripping through family photos. There was blood on the ground – and what blood the Grimm shed vanished with their bodies, meaning this couldn't be theirs. It led to the doorway to the basement. Jaune's hands leapt to his mouth, and he choked back a sob.

A hand landed on his shoulder.

"Let me," said Master Ren. "You do not know what is down there."

He did know. Master Ren was being kind, but they both knew that the only way the Grimm wouldn't be here right now was if there was no one alive down there. Sinking back, Jaune hit the wall and slid down onto his rear. Master Ren stepped through the door and descended into the gloom. Jaune prayed for the sounds of violence, for roars, for cries of relief.

But there was nothing.

When Master Ren returned some ten minutes later, he did so with several small objects in his hand, which he knelt and showed to Jaune. His mother's wedding ring, a hairclip from Jade, and a small stuffed yellow bear with bloodstained fur. It had been his once, but he'd given it to Lavender when she had nightmares, and she'd passed it on to Amber, to ward off frightening dreams and protect her. It had done its best even at the end. The fur flattened as salty tears fell from his eyes down onto it.

"I am sorry for your loss," said Master Ren. "They are in a land without strife now."

Dead. All of them. His whole family barring his father. If Nicholas was even alive. They hadn't heard from him in months and… and what would Jaune say if he was? Sorry but he'd failed to protect his family? Sorry that everyone died? Or would he blame his father for being called away, for being legally required to put his huntsman skills into work in the army? Jaune wasn't sure. He wasn't sure what he would say, what he would do, or what he was supposed to do. So, he asked.

"What am I meant to do now…?"

"You shall grieve, you shall mourn, you shall recover, and you shall remember them. But, for now, you shall return with me to the temple and live." Master Ren stood, took Jaune by the wrist and hauled him to his feet. "It is what they would want."

"I… I can't…"

"What is left here for you? What would it accomplish to stay?"

"No, it's not that. I can't just leave them here." His voice cracked. "Like this. I… I should bury them." Jaune looked up, and the old man's face softened. "I should… I should do something…"

"Then we shall cremate them."

"But—"

The man's hand gripped his shoulder tight, and he looked deep into Jaune's eyes. In the softest, kindest voice he could, he said, "The bodies are in no condition to bury. It will break you to see them like this."

Jaune's entire frame wobbled, and Master Ren had to support him. He hadn't considered it. There was a reason Master Ren had brought objects to show him, and not suggested he come to identify what might no longer be identifiable. Bile rose in his throat.

"They would not want you to see them like this. Remember them as they were, not as they are now." Master Ren pushed him away from the basement. "Come. Let us see them off together. It is time you said your farewells."

It took but a short time to gather firewood and stack it in his home. Two more Grimm approached, drawn by the negativity rolling off Jaune in waves, but Master Ren danced among them, striking at their bodies with his palms and shattering their ribcages. It only ever took one blow to kill them, and he did so without ever taking a hit in return. When enough wood had been stacked in the doorway, Jaune stepped back.

"I don't have a lighter," he whispered hoarsely.

Master Ren stepped forward. "Allow me."

He held out his hands before him and concentrated. Flecks of pale blue danced around his body. The old man's aura glowed across his skin, manifesting visibly. In his hand, a tiny flicker of aura danced like a blue flame, and Master Ren brought it into the palm of one hand, and then, with a sharp breath, drove his palm into the firewood.

Branches cracked and crackled as the flames roared to life, igniting the bundles and taking over the logs. Soon, Jaune's home burned, and still he hoped, against all sense, that someone might cry out from within. That someone could have stayed hidden.

But the only sound was the hungry flames of the funeral pyre and his own laboured breathing.

"Would you care to say some words?" asked Master Ren.

"I can't," Jaune rasped.

"Then allow me. To the Arc family, who has given so much in their life. Know that your son, your brother, yet lives, and that not all has been lost. We remember you as you were, and for the love you held. May you find your way to gentle plains and rolling meadows in the next life."

Jaune's knees struck the earth.

Ash danced across his face.

His family burned.

Master Shu Ren stood silently behind him for two hours, keeping the Grimm away as the young boy watched everything he had ever known go up in smoke.

/-/

Two days passed.

Master Ren forced him to return to the Lotus Sect Temple to rest and recover in what he referred to as the initiate's quarters. It was the same small, square building he had woken up in before, where a single bedroll was laid out for him. Jaune spent his days and nights in it, rising only to relieve himself and then crawl back.

His nights were spent wrapped in nightmarish memories of the night his family died. Sometimes they crawled out the burning home still on fire and asked him when he hadn't saved them, why he hadn't run faster, or how if he'd stayed awake and asked Master Ren to come back that night, they might have lived.

His days, he spent staring up at the wooden ceiling and ignoring the world around him. He heard only the swish of robes and the light clink of a wooden bowl being laid beside him, and sometimes of a wooden cup of cool water being forced against his lips. Jaune couldn't recall what the food was and wasn't sure he tasted anything. All he knew was that neither sleep nor wakefulness could save him, and that his world had been destroyed.

And then, on the third day, he woke up with a wild splutter as cold water doused down upon him.

"Pwa! Blargh!" Jaune flailed about in shock, his robes soaked through and his hair sticking to his skin. He kicked out, sweeping the blanket off him and rolled onto his side, coughing water out his lungs. "Hack! Ack!"

"You have overslept," said a cold and firm voice. Master Ren stood with a wooden bucket clasped between his spindly fingers. There was little mirth in his face. "It is the sixth hour of the day. I expect you to be awake and ready to present breakfast to me in the temple at this time."

Still spluttering, Jaune pushed his hands down and stared up at the old man. "W—What…?"

"Has the water washed away your brain? Listen well, for I shall not impart any lesson a third time. Each morning, I awake on the sixth hour. You are to have breakfast ready for me, and water drawn from the river. I expect a spread of no less than one meat or fish, cooked rice, and vegetables. If you cannot cook, you shall soon learn."

"Huh…?"

"That is but your first chore of the day. You shall be expected to sweep the courtyard, and then you shall meditate and exercise. At the twelfth hour, another meal must be provided. It will be your responsibility to feed your master."

"What…?" Jaune's voice sounded alien to his own ears. It was deep and raspy. "What are you talking about?"

"Hmmm? Do you expect an old man to feed and cook for himself?" Master Ren stroked his bears as he gazed down on the soaked young man. "Or perhaps you believe you shall drag me from my temple, demand my help in slaying the Grimm, and then have me assist with final rites with your family for no payment. Is that it?"

"Payment?" Jaune's blood boiled. "My family is dead—"

"And, as such, they cannot compensate me for my time spent looking after you." Master Ren sighed dramatically. "It is your debt, then. And I believe I know how you shall pay it. You will be my servant. Unpaid, of course. I should think a period of ten years sufficient to repay your debt to me."

Jaune couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Ten years!?"

"Shall I make it twenty? I might just, especially if you are as useless a cook as you look. My old stomach is sensitive." Master Ren cupped blue and white robes. "If I do not find your offering adequate, I shall force you to cook it again. Be grateful I do not ask you to bathe me as well, or to change my diaper."

"I've seen you fight. You're more than capable of getting around on your own."

"Ah, but I am feeling old and weary of late. That excursion has taken a lot out of me." Master Ren spoke such blatant lies with admirable composure. "I believe it shall take a lot of pressure off this old man to have a young house servant to take care of my every need. And you do owe me. Quite the debt, in fact. I saved your life."

That was true. Jaune stared down between his hands but found that no tears came. He'd cried himself out over the last two days, and although the pain was still there, it was a dull and bitter ache instead of the raw agony it had been.

He had nothing left. No family, no home, no future. What else would he do if he walked out of the temple now? He had nowhere to go, and it wasn't like he had family elsewhere that would take him in. He'd wander into the wilderness and die. Two days prior, he might have chosen that, but now… it felt like such a pointless way to go. To survive all this and then just die.

"What will I have to do?"

"You will be kept busy. Of that you can be certain. You will gather food and cook for me, and you shall help in maintaining the temple. We cannot have you growing soft and weak, so you shall exercise and keep yourself in good shape. I suppose I shall teach you to defend yourself as well," said Master Ren, releasing a heavy sigh. "It would not do to have you go and die on me and force me to take care of all these chores on my own. It shall be troublesome, but I suppose I can teach a few simple tricks to you. If you are not so stupid that you can learn them."

Jaune's anger boiled again but he kept it down. He wasn't dumb, and he knew what Master Ren was doing. He knew this was a kindness in truth, and that the old man was riling him up to get his mind off what had befallen him. This wasn't servitude. It was an offer to become his student, but the old man didn't want it to come across as pity. And it was, wasn't it? Because his situation was nothing but pitiable.

If he could learn to fight like that, though, then the Grimm would have had no chance. He could have saved his family. Saved his village. Jaune clenched his eyes shut and pressed his forehead to the wooden slats before Master Ren's feet.

"I accept, Master Ren."

"Good. Good. Now, less bowing and more cooking. This old man is hungry!"

"Ungh. Then where is the pantry?"

"Pantry?"

Master Ren twirled his beard between his fingers, using the long strands to hide what was no doubt a very cruel smile.

"What a decadent life you believe an old man in a temple in the middle of nowhere leads. My pantry is out there." He gestured to the forest. "There is a river nearby. You may find fish there, then gut and clean them to serve with vegetables harvested from the gardens and mushrooms foraged from the woodland. It will be your responsibility to maintain the gardens and plant and harvest crops. You shall chop wood and gather tinder for a fire as well."

"Anything else, master?"

"Since you ask with such sincerity, yes. I enjoy a midday bath in the sun. I expect you to gather enough buckets of water from the river to fill the tub and then heat rocks to bring it to temperature. Save some extra water to wash my robes as well. Furthermore—"

Jaune's eye twitched. He wished he hadn't asked.

I know the Wuxia and Chinese mythic influence may put off some, but it's going to be a lot more grounded than that. Also, as you might be able to tell, there's an alteration in Remnant's current history referencing an active war still ongoing. More on that in the next chapter.

Next Chapter: 23rd January

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