“Worthy is the man who stays behind to defend when others go out to war. For he sacrifices just as much to protect those he loves.”

8 Months Before Beacon

The sun stood proud in the sky, raining heat down on the winding roads and forests that led to Signal Academy. Located on the island of Patch, Signal Academy was a proud school that taught students to be fighters and potential huntsmen and huntresses. The school was busy, an airship had just landed with important news.

Ivorson Krane stood still, letting the rush of students push past him. Though his shoulders were constantly getting bumped, the young man stood unmoving. His white hair flowed with the wind that was picking up from the airship. The white, long sleeved, v-neck he wore was wrinkled and stressed. Strapped to his back was a large kite shield, the bottom trailed into a point that hung below his waist.

The shield was silver, and on its center it bore a large symbol. That of a Goliath’s tusk, in a white shield. It reflected the light of the sun, giving it a bright white glow. Ivorson still remained frozen in place, breathing lightly through his nose. The airship was bringing confirmations of acceptance to the academies, Ivorson had applied to Beacon and Shade Academy but he had little faith of being accepted to either. He wasn’t a standout student, not like others in his class. Ivorson stood firmly in the middle of his class, his performance was mired in whelming statistics and grades.

He stood waiting, for the crowd around the airship to die down. He thought about his father and brothers, all of whom had gone to Beacon Academy. Students poured towards the flying vehicle, whose engines had just been turned off. The wind blowing Ivorson’s hair finally stopped, and the last students pushed their way past the young man. Ivorson finally shook himself from his daydream, drawing the courage and strength of mind to take his first steps forward towards the news.

His concentration was broken when someone slammed into his left shoulder, knocking him to the ground. Ivorson slowly picked himself off the gravel road, brushing off his hands as he stood.

“What’s the matter Ivorson? I thought they called you Steadfast for a reason.” A young man, the same age as Ivorson Krane, teased, raising his arms as a pseudo challenge to the white haired man.

“Come on Jasper, can we just make it through the day without you being a total di-.” Ivorson started, but was cut off by a hand on his shoulder and a reassuring voice.

“Don’t let him get under your skin,” The voice said, Ivorson recognized that it belonged to a fellow student named Yarrow, “No matter the outcome today, you cannot let him get under your skin.”

The white haired man stopped talking, turning to face Yarrow. The young man was blonde with deep yellow eyes. On his back, was a simple bow. Ivorson always wondered if there was anything special to it but could never find an answer to that question. Yarrow was never really a talkative person, he’d usually rather keep to himself than hold a conversation with people. The blonde haired man took his hand off of Ivorson’s shoulder and walked into the crowd of people surrounding the airship.

“Thanks…” Ivorson mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck as Yarrow disappeared into the crowd.

Ivorson Krane continued walking towards the crowd, he stood at the back of what appeared to be a line. The airship’s side door was open and a man was handing out letters to people as they came. The reactions were mixed; some left with shocked faces, some were consoled by their friends with tears in their eyes, others were shouting and jumping with ecstatic joy.

The makeshift line marched forward each time someone got their response from the assorted kingdom academies. Soon, Ivorson was just a few people behind the person in the airship handing out the acceptance letters. Within a couple minutes, Ivorson was face to face with the man who would give him the answer of what his future would be.

“Ivorson Krane, Signal Academy. Application to Shade Academy… Rejected.” The man said, handing him a letter, Ivorson hung his head low as he accepted the rejection. “Application to Beacon Academy… Accepted.”

Ivorson’s face shot up, looking the man dead in the eyes, “Excuse me?”

“Congratulations Mr. Ivorson, you should be proud. Beacon is a rough school to get in.” The man answered, handing the acceptance letter to Ivorson.

Ivorson took it in his hands and stepped to the side, looking at the words written on the paper.

Dear Mr. Ivorson Krane,

We have reviewed your application to Beacon Academy and on behalf of the faculty staff at Beacon Academy, I am pleased to congratulate you on your acceptance. We are impressed by the words your teachers have said on your behalf. We believe that the faith we have in you will not go unfounded in the coming school years.

Should you have any questions regarding this letter or the contents within, feel free to contact our offices during standard work hours. I look forward to the coming school year and the promise of a great class to teach.

-Professor Ozpin

Ivorson held his head with one hand and the letter with his other, shocked. The white haired man could not believe that he made it, when so many other classmates didn’t. He saw some that were leagues better than him walk away in dismay. Shock turned to glee when it all sank in. Ivorson gave a quick cheer and walked away from the airship, heading onto the long road that led out of Signal Academy and back to his house. Before long he turned onto a small dirt road that led further into the forested island.

He had made it not ten minutes out of the school when someone stepped out from behind a tree in front of him. Ivorson recognized him by the deep red hair as the man who had slammed into him earlier.

“Well well. What do we have here? The boy scout walking alone down an isolated road?” Jasper taunted, holding his weapon by its grip.

It was a large warhammer, on one end of the hammer was a thruster that Jasper used to propel the hammer forward for a harder hit. Jasper snapped his fingers, two more students stepped out behind Ivorson, blocking him in.

“What is this Jasper?” Ivorson asked, looking over his shoulders at the two behind him.

One held a rapier and the other wielded a mace and shield.

Jasper raised his hands, the thruster on the hammer assisting him lifting the behemoth of a weapon.

“We just wanted to see what makes you so special. Why did you get accepted into Beacon and not us?” Jasper said.

Ivorson knew where this was heading, he squeezed his hand closed and the shield on his back slid down his right arm, attaching itself to a bracer Ivorson wore on his forearm., securing it from falling off. The shield was parallel to his arm, the point of the shield extended down, angling itself past Ivorson’s fingers.

“Jasper, consider what you’re about to do carefully. You have a good future ahead of you. If they find out about this, you’ll lose all of it.” Ivorson warned, extending his left hand towards the red haired man.

“There’s the shield…” Jasper breathed, “Get him!”

The two fighters behind Ivorson surged forward, aiming for the kill. Ivorson spun around, kicking up dirt with his boots. The fighter with the mace swung with incredible force at the white haired man. Ivorson raised his shield to meet the blow and was pushed back slightly.

“Looks like he’s not as unshakeable as they say.” Jasper taunted, running forward before leaping in the air, propelled by the singular thruster on his hammer.

Ivorson rolled, barely dodging the sudden impact of the hammer on the dirt road creating a small crater where the hammer met the ground.

“Are you insane?” Ivorson shouted.

Jasper said nothing as he stood, his shoulders rocked with heavy breathing and rage. His eyes flashed red as he sprinted towards his enemy. The duelist with the rapier was advancing on Ivorson, flashing the deadly blade. With a flourish, the duelist lunged forward.

Ivorson deflected the blow with a swipe of his shield arm before rolling back, extending his hand and squeezing his palm. The kite shield launched off the bracer and impacted with the duelist’s chest, knocking the wind out of him. With another motion of his arm, the shield was drawn back and reattached to the bracer.

Jasper raised an eyebrow at this offensive use of the shield. He shook his head and continued his charge. He spun when he neared Ivorson, catching the young man off guard. Ivorson raised the shield, but was caught in a awkward angle, sending him flying towards the mace wielder. The fighter slammed his mace into Ivorson’s back, knocking him to the ground.

“Why did someone like you get accepted into Beacon and we’re left to rot?” Jasper shouted, kicking Ivorson in his ribs.

Ivorson could feel his Aura draining. He had no way of knowing where his fellow students would stop, or even if they would. The white haired man struggled to stand but was caught by a blow from Jasper’s warhammer, sending him flying into a nearby tree and smashing right through it. Ivorson heaved to breathe as he stood. He used the shield to steady himself, standing slowly.

The mace wielder walked forward with his shield raised.

“Stop this madness! Can’t you see what you’re doing?” Ivorson shouted towards the two remaining fighters.

This did nothing to stop them, they were intent to finish the fight. Ivorson sighed with a pang of sadness. He did not want to fight his fellow students, no matter how awful they were. He thrust his arm forward and the shield rocketed off once more, but the advancing fighter was ready. He sidestepped the shield with a smirk, once more continuing his advance. Ivorson clenched his fest and the shield changed direction, heading back towards the bracer. However, its path was blocked by the fighter. The shield slammed into the back of his head and the fighter dropped like a sack of potatoes, unconscious. The shield continued its path towards Ivorson, who caught it with practiced grace.

Jasper roared, as his eyes flashed a dangerous red. He surged forward, surrounded by a glowing red aura. His swung his warhammer but was matched by Ivorson’s shield, the blow pushing the white haired man into the ground.

Ivorson rolled, shooting his shield towards Jasper who slammed it midair with his hammer. It came back to Ivorson who spun and shot it off again, catching Jasper off guard. The kite shield slammed into Jasper’s leg, knocking him to the ground. The red aura faded from the red haired man. Ivorson caught the shield and affixed it once more to his right arm.

“Stop it Jasper, forget about all of this and just go home… to your family.” Ivorson said, “Stop this needless violence.”

Ivorson extended his hand to Jasper, “Take my hand.”

Jasper looked up at the forgiving man before taking the extended hand. Ivorson pulled Jasper to his feet but was only thanked with a punch directed square to Ivorson’s jaw. The fist connected, but Ivorson was unmoved, not even budging an inch. Jasper roared once more in anger and punched again, to the same result as the previous blow. Ivorson stood still as a statue as Jasper gripped his warhammer. The thruster ignited, pushing it faster towards its intended target. Ivorson simply raised his shield and the warhammer impacted with a shock wave, the white haired man once again did not move. Jasper did not relent, delivering blow after blow into the unmoving young man.

Ivorson shook his head, extending his free hand and punching Jasper in the nose. The red haired man recoiled, clutching his face as his aura weakened. The warhammer gave a loud thud as it was dropped. Ivorson advanced, wheeling about and slamming his shield into Jasper’s right shoulder, dropping him to the ground.

“Please give up.” Ivorson breathed heavily, pointing the tip of his shield at Jasper, “It’s over.”

“It’ll be over when you’re dead.” Jasper seethed with anger.

Ivorson sighed and closed his eyes, the shield rocketed off for the last time. It impacted with Jasper’s face, knocking his head back into the ground. The red haired man’s aura broke and he was left unconscious. Ivorson picked up his shield and reattached it to his bracer before picking up Jasper and leaning him against a nearby tree. He picked up the two other fighters and did the same, laying their weapons at their feet.

“I wish you good luck with your lives. May your futures be bright ones.” Ivorson said an unheard word for the unconscious young men.

Ivorson relaxed his arm and the shield slid its way back to his back. He turned back down the dirt road to his home, ready to give his father the news of his acceptance to Beacon Academy. He looked forward to the next four years of his life.