VNCA

Prologue: History, Rewritten

"Legends: stories written; scattered through time. Mankind has grown quite fond of recounting the exploits of heroes and villains, forgetting so easily that we are remnants; byproducts of a forgotten past."
Everyone knew of this story, the story that begins one of the most well-known heroics of recent memory. It was the story of a group of young Huntsmen and Huntresses that stood up to the most wicked evil the planet had faced, ever; an evil that threatened to turn the whole world to darkness and destruction. She was a powerful sorceress, with a name that none dare speak nowadays, who could control the dark creatures of the planet with ease. Her power was great, but not as great as the will of those that rose to challenge her. At the end of their earth-shattering battle, the Wicked Queen was slain, and peace had once again befell the land. Kingdoms rose again from ash and rubble and the discourse that sewed their downfall; old truces were made new again, with some hesitant caution. "The Queen-Slayers" as they are whispered on the ears of those young and hopeful youth of human and faunus alike, balanced on the line between myth and reality, and their image was the spear-tip of this new era, leading the way from chaos, distrust and conspiracy to the new light.
How quickly, though, it can always be forgotten that shadows are never truly gone, they merely are found outside of the light. While the downfall of the Wicked-Queen was monumental, it was only a moment of hesitation for forces that sought power in the shadows. Yes, her evil was gone, but there will always be another to fill it. Let us always remember, nature will always abhor a vacuum. Even now, darkness rallies to try and claim the throne of the Queen's rule, and none of it will be expected this time. From the very land we walk, to realms beyond our mental limits, the shadows continue to fester, until they can one day grow to break free, and bring about an end to our being.
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His tower's internal clock continued the heavy, quick, thudding noises as the giant cogs and mechanisms continued to move under the glass floor and above the glass ceiling around him. The headmaster stood, solemnly, eyes affixed out the large-panel window that overlooked the grounds of his academy. The sun was just starting to break the crest of the horizon. How many days had it been since that fateful battle; since that day in the Dark Lands? Where She had fallen, after so much bloodshed and violence, and sacrifice. The headmaster felt his hand tighten on the top of his cane, then relax a bit before he took a pull from his morning coffee, to steady his body. The memories still lingered around him. They didn't haunt him, for he had made peace with it, but it stuck to him, like a hazy shroud that refused to leave.
The 'ding' of the elevator shook him free of his thoughts for the moment and stole his eyes from the sun as his assistant stepped from the elevator: a tired-looking woman with hair that tried to stay blonde, while the encroaching silver threatened that idea.
"Good morning, professor," she greeted as she adjusted her thin frames over her nose.
"And to you as well," the man returned the greeting with a warm smile. "I suppose our meeting is more than just a friendly morning 'hello'?"
"Yes sir, we need to prepare for the coming semester," the assistant's eyes fell to her Scroll between her fingers, and her free hand pressed away on the translucent keys, before bringing up a list. "As you know, with less of the problem of Grimm, the proper roles of Huntsmen and Huntresses are, well," her words staggered for a moment as her eyes lifted back to the man, who was taking another pull of his coffee.
"In decline, yes," he finished her words. "It is a new era of peace, and it does need to be addressed, when our doors reopen," he softly nodded, and returned his attention to the rising sun that continued to push back against the dark blue and black hues of the night, giving way to astounding oranges and reds.
"They will be addressed, but later. For now, send the details to my Scroll and I will come to it later today."
"Of course."
"If that is all, go ahead and rest up, you look like you could use it. We have," the headmaster paused for a second, taking a breath in as though to steady himself, "A long first day to prepare for."
As the clicking of her heels returned to the elevator and the doors sealed her off from the headmaster once again, his head began to swim with thoughts of before. His eyes fell to the grounds beneath his feet, and the stones below even that, and his thoughts turned to another pressing matter. With cane in hand, the headmaster turned to the elevator himself, and vanished behind it's closing doors.
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So bring what forces you may, hide behind what lies you can, raise your walls from ashes and dust and speak in low whispers of how you are ready for the storm after the calm. But rest assured, the world you know holds many a secret you don't, and the world you don't know may very well be your undoing.