Sunshine, Pain, Grief, never forgotten, always remembered.
Sweat dripped from his brow.
“One.” He drove his shield arm forward.
His eyes were red and puffy.
“Two.” He brought his arm forward again.
He could taste sand in his mouth and salt on his lips.
“Three.” A loud woosh of air was sent forward as he struck again with his shield.
The blood on its broken blade stay sheathed.
“Four.” The wind was send dust across the empty mountain top.
He ran as far as he could.
“Five.” The wind broke against the wall of stone, it trembled.
He could feel the sunshine on his back, he cooked in his armor. His aura cooled him and then the process began again.
“Six.” The stone wall trembled again.
He couldn’t face them.
“Seven.” A fracture on the stone face was seen.
Not till he was strong enough.
“Eight.” A rock teetered back and forth.
His aura flickered but then glowed mightily, it had been on the edge of depletion for several hours.
“Nine.” The rock fell down.
He forced it to regenerate anyway.
“Ten.” It was as big as the man it fell towards.
He deserved to suffer.
“Eleven.” The shadow was on top of him now.
She should be here.
“Twelve.” It was within seconds of hitting him.
Not him, never him.
“Thirteen.”
“KACRASH-CRACK!!!”
He bashed it away shattering it into a million pieces.
“Fourteen.” Dust wavered around his sweat slacked hair like a halo.
Till he was strong enough. He would remain here.
“Fifteen.” He pumped his arm full of aura and swung his shield again.
He would protect them no matter the cost.
“Sixteen.” The wind push against the stone and broke, but the stone began to buckle.
What was he worth if he couldn’t?
“Seventeen.” Cracks formed on the stone wall the peak of the mountain he run to, that he climbed to the top of when he could no longer run.
He needed to be stronger, he needed his aura to respond faster, he needed to respond faster, he needed to heal completely, he needed to be the best.
“Eighteen.” The rock foundation began to crumble, swaying between the void and Jaune.
He could not stop, not till he dropped.
“Nineteen.” It came down, an avalanche of stone, earth and debris. Hundreds, if not thousands of tons of material, enough to sweep around a town, let alone one man.
They all deserved more than he was.
“Twenty.” He swung his arm again, a dome of protective aura creating a shield more potent, block the rubble as it fell over him. Cracks formed over it.
He was a failure, but he would be no longer.
“Twenty-One.” He swung his arm again drive the shield and aura forth, batting away the rockslide.
He would be the best, he would fail no more.
“Twenty-Two.” Blood dripped across his body as the rocks fell over spots he missed as his aura broke. It reformed with preternatural speed, his wounds closing instantly.
He would make sure no one had to die again.
“Twenty-Three.” The rock-slide stopped. He had defeated it, but he was completely buried underneath it’s weight.
He would be a man worth following.
“Twenty-Four.” He swung anyway, a spectral shield forming over his. It pushed the earth forth.
He would stare them in the eyes and not backed down. He had down what must be done.
“Twenty-Five.” With one last might swing he was free. Jaune Arc gazed out at the morning sky.
Rain dripped down on top of him.
Jaune Arc has failed his friends for the last, no more, he would be become the huntsman he always would be.
There was no more die trying. He will succeed. He will remember and honor them. Failure no longer exists, only victory.
A wave of aura poured off him.
Steam wavered off of him, and tears fell with no limits.
Jaune began down the mountain.
He had friends that needed him.