The Other Path [RWBY SI] [AHOIAC AU]
- Thread starter shadenight123
- Start date
He is Ouroboros and we are the devourer and meal all in one.
Exsequens
I Ent Dead!
- Location
- Back in the Toaster.
And by destroy she means she will teach and train Ruby and Yang into the perfect exemplars of Atlesian grace and specialist etiquette, and somehow make it work, whether through having Weiss coax them into it or an agreed prank for Qrow.
And then when he tries to drink the horror away, he discovers a caring, simple soul has added a tag to Qrow's Huntsman data suggesting he will suffer if he takes in more drink, thus not even the seediest bars of Mistral's dark sectors will sate that raging need for alcohol.
At the end of the nightmare, he will see Winter standing before him like the judges of hell, where she will give him a most beautiful smile and make sure he remembers this, "A Schnee does not do things by half.". Thus will he know it as the day he discovered for all the things Winter Schnee may stand, hell hath no flame to match the ice of a big sister's wrath.
Last edited:
Chapter One Hundred and Seventeen
- Location
- https://discord.gg/z9tBvbh
Chapter One Hundred and Seventeen
Before Team RWBY could leave, one of its members was required to open the big, magical door that hid beneath Haven academy. This proved a bit trickier, because the entrance was literally in the main foyer. Now a deserted academy with every huntsman dead and no students was one thing, but one in full swing of events was a bit different.
Thus, we had to skip lunch. It was the only time of the day in which nobody, absolutely nobody, would be in the main entrance hall. Food was sacred, doubly so for huntsmen and huntsmen to be.
Yang was only slightly grumpy about it, and mostly trying to play off her jitters at being asked to perform 'door opening magic', as I had aptly called it.
Qrow had Leonardo's pocket-watch in hand, and as he placed it into the statue's slot, the rumbling noise of it sinking into the floor hid the grumbles of my stomach. I was hungry just as much as any other huntsman, but there was a hint of nervousness within me too. I had prepared the perfect question, or so I hoped.
It was the one question that would be, in my mind, flawless. Even if it wasn't, I still had a second one to further clarify the first one.
But even so, I hoped the first would suffice.
"What if I can't manage to open it?" Yang asked as we made our way down the makeshift elevator.
"You will do just fine," I mused. "Just touch the door, and let the magic do the rest. We just can't bring the Relic outside, or the magic protection will come less."
"Can't believe the headmaster wants you to use this relic thing," Yang retorted. "Weight of the world on the shoulders much?"
"Eh, no more than my usual Monday morning," I answered with a grin, the elevator coming to a halt at the beginning of a large stone bridge, which ended at a golden door gently suffused with a golden glow of its own. "There it is," I said.
"Let's just get this over with quickly," Qrow grumbled, "The sooner we put the relic back where it's safe, the better."
"Uncle Qrow, you're nervous too?" Yang asked, trying to sound cheekily even as we advanced on the bridge.
"You have no idea, kiddo," Qrow muttered, "Psycho brawn for brains gave you a watered down version of what happened, but it's not until you see what you're dealing with that you understand," he shook his head and stopped midway through the bridge, "I'll wait here. Just in case my bad luck decides to flare up again precisely when it's important. Also, watch your back."
"Fine," Yang rolled her eyes, but still advanced. I gave Qrow a nod, and he returned one of his own. We finally halted in front of the massive golden door, and this time I gestured with my head at Yang to do the honors.
She neared it, and then winced as her hands touched the golden surface. It sparked right up, lights shining across the frame as fluttering butterflies of color flew off the surface, the brimming magical energy slowly opening the door and revealing amidst a desert of sand the relic itself, floating gingerly upon a pedestal.
I hopped on the white platforms that led to the pedestal, and stopped once in front of the relic.
My heart drummed in my chest as I grabbed hold of the relic, feeling its weight.
"Jinn!" I spoke, "I summon you!"
It pulsed softly, electric-like currents pouring through my arm and through my body as the blue and golden figure of Jinn materialized in mid-air, in her giant-like form. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, and looked down at me with a kind smile.
"Wonderful, I was expecting you," she said with a smile. "One could even say...I knew you would come."
I blinked at that, but then opened my mouth to speak. Jinn extended a hand in warning, and I closed my mouth sharply. "I can answer that question, make no mistake," she whispered, "and I wish to, for it is quite the intelligent question too. However, there will be a price to pay for it," her smile was sad as she spoke, "To show something is one thing. To teach it, it is another. Your body will not age, but unless you learn, that question may just as well be the doom of your soul."
"You confirmed the question was intelligent," I muttered back.
"Yes, but just because something is intelligent, it does not make it wise," Jinn answered. "You are, perhaps, the most interesting human I have ever had the pleasure to know the life of." Her lips twitched in a smile. "And what tangled webs, what incredible lives you have lived," she chuckled as she said that, even though I merely blinked at that strange remark, "I sincerely do wish to teach you. Ask the question, and I will be delighted-incredibly so, but know that whether it is your doom or not, solely depends on your abilities."
"Oi," Yang spoke from slightly behind me. "I don't know what's going on, but if it's something suicidal, I was warned to tell you that there's an angry midget and an even angrier cat-girl waiting upstairs for a report on what went down here."
I chuckled at that and, surprisingly, Jinn chuckled too, as if she knew what my answer would be. "It's going to be all right," I said with an amused smirk on my face. "Differently from my teammates, I do so enjoy learning." I turned to look up at Jinn, who was standing in wait.
"Whatever will be, will be," I hummed, "The future is not ours to see."
Jinn giggled, and cocked her head to the side. "Ask the question, then."
"What are the multiple things that you can teach me, out of everything you know, that could be useful in a meeting with Salem?" and as I asked the question, the world around me disappeared.
The sands were gone, and so too was Yang. Jinn too wasn't there. There was only whiteness.
There was snow, thick and heavy, falling down from the skies like the most turbulent of blizzards.
"You already know how Salem came to be," Jinn spoke, her voice everywhere and nowhere at the same time. "What you do not know, however, are her reasons for hating humanity."
Dots of darkness spread across the whiteness of the snow, Grimm clawing their way out of the ground as they advanced. Amidst them, a pale figure walked, her eyes lifeless and her face a cruel sneer.
"At first she merely lashed out from her hatred," villages were shown burning, some aided by flames sprouted by magic, or earthquakes rippling across the ground, "but even so, she soon realized that no matter how many she killed, humanity would prove resilient, and return again and again."
More villages rose across fertile plains, and upon the ruins of the old ones. The Grimm attacked them, and just as many fell as more were built. "Thus, she decided for another plan, one born of cruel spite."
I could see Salem overlooking the long bend of a river human houses being built alongside it, fists clenched. "If I cannot kill them myself," she muttered, "I'll make the Gods do it for me."
"She doesn't care she might still be cursed with immortality even after that, does she?" I muttered, glancing at her frame as she retreated from the hill overlook.
"It does not matter," Jinn muttered in my ear, "There is no life left in her. She is already dead, and the only thing that she cares about is the destruction of humanity. It is what she has become, a revenant of destruction," she clicked her tongue against her teeth, "She wishes to spite Ozma one last time, destroy his precious humanity for which he sacrificed their daughters, and have the Gods forced to acknowledge their failure, and their fallible existence. She will laugh for all eternity if that were to come to pass, and there is nothing else in her that would make her feel more satisfied."
I turned thoughtful.
"Ah," Jinn chuckled, "You may not have to stay here for long if you are this quick on the uptake."
The scenery changed. The bubbling pools of darkness from which the Grimm spawned stood amidst a scenery of desert and death.
"The Grimm are created from Destruction itself. The God of Darkness formed them in a mockery of the God of Light's creation, and with jealousy in mind. They seek but to destroy all that has been created, but they are inherently inferior. They are but shadows of the hatred of the God of Darkness, and once the very last blooming flower will burn, then they will cease to exist their purpose spent. Yet even then, the God of Darkness would have them blot out the stars," Jinn sighed. "When Salem fell into the pool from which they were born, the God of Light's curse protected her from suffering the same fate as many others. In so doing, however, it created an all-together different breed of monster."
I watched the scene happen, and then witnessed Salem grip her heart. "She was still capable of love," Jinn murmured. "Happiness, joy, of creating life," her daughters were born one after the other. She was a gentle and caring mother in private, offering caresses and hugs, gently playing with her daughters by using magic, "But when she lost them...she ripped out her own heart."
I blinked at that. Then I saw a scene so gory, I would have rather not have to see it at all. Salem's finger dug into her chest and with a scream, she ripped and squashed her heart with her very hand.
"It grew back," Jinn whispered, "and thus she ripped it out again."
The scene repeated.
"And again."
It happened once more. My eyes were wide.
"And again."
Every time she did so, the veins within her body pulsed angrily as the darkness of the Grimm Pools spread further within her. Then, in the end, she stopped.
"There is no love left within her," Jinn whispered, "No joy, or happiness. She cannot be convinced to stop her task, and she cannot be defeated for as long as the curse of the God of Light stays within her."
"But there is a way," I said in a hushed whisper. "Not to defeat her, not to stop her, but to weaken and perhaps imprison her."
Jinn's giggle echoed in the air. "There are many, some more practical than others-"
A space rocket flying through the air, hefty chains to fully bind her and deep in the bottom of the ocean throw her, or someone lifting her up and throwing her in a volcano-there were many methods, apparently. Yet, they all hinged on something else to happen.
"This brings us to her magic," Jinn acquiesced. "Magic is a gift of the God of Darkness, it is destruction at its finest, the ability to impose one's will on the fabric of creation by destroying its laws." A scene of mages conjuring forth lightning from their fingertips, and using waves to drown villages, materialized in front of me.
"The God of Darkness oversaw that magic would replenish by his will," the all-knowing Genie added. "But as he left, he took the gift of magic away with him. The only ones he could not touch were Salem, whose curse protected her from him, and Ozma, who was dead at the time. It was an oversight," she added, "An oversight of beings that I must refer to as Gods, and with that choice word said, you have already understood," she laughed gingerly in happiness. "My, if only more people had been so interesting as you, it would have made for a less boring imprisonment."
The scene changed. We were witnessing Salem, once more. "Her magic is great. Her father, a great king, imprisoned her within a tower guarded by incredible golems and guardians because he feared her, and what her powers could do. Even now, with the God of Darkness gone thousands of years ago, she still holds on to that great power. She will not use it carelessly, but if her attention is required-" a scene of Salem, sprouting wings out of a Belial's body, "She will use that which she has hand. She is parsimonious, but also callous and cruel," another scene, of Raven and Qrow this time.
They were both standing in the middle of a forested area, and the figure of Salem was apparently traipsing in the woods.
"She can be stabbed, she can be hurt," Jinn whispered as Raven's blade dug into Salem's body while Qrow's scythe-like weapon aimed for her head. "But she cannot be dismembered," the scythe dug into her neck, but stopped an inch away from fully decapitating her, "and she cannot be burned to cinders," flames left Raven's sword, but even those had no effect.
"Is that all?" Salem whispered, amused.
"She enjoys destroying, and bringing forth misery and pain," Jinn acquiesced. With but one hand, merely moved to her side, Qrow's weapon flew off and slammed into a nearby tree. No, it didn't fly off. It was shattered in half.
Raven's blade, she grabbed with an index and a middle finger, and gently pushed it out from her body even as it was clear that Raven was trying her hardest to hold her back.
"Terror is to her like the sweetest of nectar," Jinn mused. "And if you fear her, then she will know."
"So have no fear when facing something that cannot be defeated," I said with a hum, "Sounds easy enough."
Jinn laughed.
I hummed, "Then again, in war there are always more solutions than merely defeating an enemy or being defeated by an enemy."
"Correct," Jinn's voice was a whisper. It was a whisper filled with maniacal glee. It was as if someone had finally asked the question that was the mother of all questions. I reckoned that being created to share knowledge, and being unable to if the question wasn't the right one, might make anyone giddy when someone finally got the right question out.
The scenery changed again.
"Yet in order to get there, we must start at the very beginning," Jinn's voice was mellifluous, and kind. "For when one story ends, then another, naturally...must begin."
It was a palace in ruins. Rubble covered most of it. In the distance, cries could be heard. And from the rubble, a lone, pale hand slowly pushed its way out.
Blond hair, and clear blue eyes, and a tattered cerulean dress.
It was one of Salem's daughters.
It was a survivor.
She was terrified. It was easy to see on her face, "Lent? Autum? Sawra?" she mumbled, looking around her immediate surroundings. "Where...where are you?"
She turned her attention to a corpse standing on the ground not too far away from her.
"Dad!" she shrieked, rushing for him. Ozma's body was unresponsive. "Dad-" she whimpered, "W-Who did this?" she winced, tears starting to fall from her face. "Mom? It was...it was mom."
She swallowed, and then looked around. The village was in flames, and thick columns of smoke rose in the air. The ground trembled, and lightning bolts echoed in the distance.
"It's mom," she whispered. "She's killing everyone-"
She looked around, "She-She killed my sisters-" she clutched her chest, "She wanted to kill me too."
Carefully, the girl stood up, and then began to run away. She ran as far as her short legs could carry her. The forest nearby was tall and dark, but I reckoned it was relatively safe with all the Grimm currently busy by the village nearby.
"Little Wyntr was the oldest, and the luckiest," Jinn mused. "She survived, and made her escape."
I looked at the girl in question as she stopped walking after a short while. Haze left her mouth, and her arms were shaking even as she hugged herself. "As with all tales that have such dark beginnings, a candle's light of warmth arrived," Jinn continued, and the figure of a hunter of sorts appeared from the depths of the forest, two dogs yapping by his side and playfully going in circles around him. The human couldn't be older than thirteen, perhaps fourteen.
His hair was silver, and he had a bow slung around his shoulder, a dead deer around his neck.
His eyes glanced down at the wounded, tired girl, whom the two dogs of his had sniffed out.
I glanced at the scene, and crossed my arms in front of my chest.
"What was the huntsman's name?" I asked.
"Babhdan," Jinn said.
"What kind of name is Babhdan?" I retorted.
"What kind of name is Kagayaku, Shade?" Jinn retorted, and I most aptly shut up.
There was the incredibly embarrassing feeling that Jinn did, indeed, know everything. Somehow, the fact she giggled told me I was right about that.
"Names, however, are not important right now," Jinn whispered, "But they will become important soon."
The figure of Wyntr looked torn, a simple patchwork of furs and leather her new clothing. Babhdan had apparently taken her in, even though he was probably only slightly older than her.
"It's not safe staying here," Wyntr murmured one night, "She might find us."
"The Goddess?" Babhdan mumbled back. "She...she really killed everyone, even the God-King?"
Wyntr nodded, and Babhdan sighed. "Where would it ever be safe from a Goddess?"
Wyntr turned thoughtful at that. "Somewhere she wouldn't think humans could ever live, thus wouldn't go looking for them."
Babhdan blinked at that, "But how would we be capable of living there then?"
Wyntr opened her mouth, and then closed it. She clenched her fists against her clothes, and then looked at the teenage boy in question. "I-I have a way we can manage."
She extended one hand in front of her, and warily smiled as tiny flickers of magic spread around it.
"Is that-"
"Magic," Wyntr whispered. "I-"
Babhdan was on his knees and prostrated within mere seconds. "I didn't know you were the daughter of the Gods-"
"Please don't!" Wyntr exclaimed, getting down on her own knees to grab hold of Babhdan's shoulders. "I'm-I'm nothing like them, but we need to hurry."
The scene changed again.
"Babhdan was an orphan, and without attachments," Jinn mused. "He gladly followed Wyntr into what the locals called the Desert of Ice."
I had a feeling the story was going somewhere.
It was somewhere I didn't really like it to go, but it was where it was headed all the same.
It was clear that years had gone by. There was a village dug in the sides of a mountain by then, and bubbling pools of water that looked like hot springs. Stone aqueducts were dragging the hot water across it and into the caverns, from which people were going about their usual business.
"While Salem went on her rampage, humans scattered," Jinn mused, "And some made their way here, to a place where no human would normally ever think of living."
"This became Mantle then?" I asked.
"Oh no," Jinn shook her head. "Though this is the start of the population of what is now known as Atlas, but the Kingdom of Mantle is quite a few centuries further down the line."
I turned thoughtful, and then watched as an adult Wyntr walked out from her house, a silver-haired kid holding her hand.
"Magic was a powerful tool," Jinn mused, "But not one that could be developed further, not without guidance, and especially could not be inherited, not to the full potential of its predecessors."
Wyntr attempted to teach her son what to do, but it was useless.
"Thus, another solution had to be found."
The creatures of Grimm rarely ventured towards the settlement, but the bigger it got, the more random strays grew interested. One was chained, and captured, and Wyntr took care of it.
"That is where it all began," Jinn said as Wyntr's hand touched the head of the bound Grimm.
Darkness receded, and the whiteness took its place. The eyes turned from crimson red to pale blue, and where once stood a Grimm that sought naught but destruction, there now was but a harmless Grimm, which dissipated into flakes of snow shortly thereafter.
"Niklaus," Wyntr whispered to her son, "I am so sorry."
"For what, mother?" her son asked back, and there was nothing but a bitter smile on Wyntr's face.
"For what I am destining you to become," her hand gingerly touched her son's cheek, and she planted a loving kiss on his forehead. "Through this, become a shield to the people and a sword to rise above all others. I release your soul and let its warmth cloak you, and I promise you, I will always protect you."
The raucous screaming etched itself deeply within my soul.
"It was successful," Jinn mused, "But not painless."
I swallowed, even though my throat was considerably dry.
Niklaus' hair was white now. White as snow, and white as the Grimm that his mother had converted.
"For what are life's greatest achievements, if they are earned without pain and suffering?" Jinn added next.
I clenched my fists tightly. "This isn't how the story ends, is it?"
Jinn laughed.
"Of course not," she whispered.
"This...is merely the beginning of the end."
Before Team RWBY could leave, one of its members was required to open the big, magical door that hid beneath Haven academy. This proved a bit trickier, because the entrance was literally in the main foyer. Now a deserted academy with every huntsman dead and no students was one thing, but one in full swing of events was a bit different.
Thus, we had to skip lunch. It was the only time of the day in which nobody, absolutely nobody, would be in the main entrance hall. Food was sacred, doubly so for huntsmen and huntsmen to be.
Yang was only slightly grumpy about it, and mostly trying to play off her jitters at being asked to perform 'door opening magic', as I had aptly called it.
Qrow had Leonardo's pocket-watch in hand, and as he placed it into the statue's slot, the rumbling noise of it sinking into the floor hid the grumbles of my stomach. I was hungry just as much as any other huntsman, but there was a hint of nervousness within me too. I had prepared the perfect question, or so I hoped.
It was the one question that would be, in my mind, flawless. Even if it wasn't, I still had a second one to further clarify the first one.
But even so, I hoped the first would suffice.
"What if I can't manage to open it?" Yang asked as we made our way down the makeshift elevator.
"You will do just fine," I mused. "Just touch the door, and let the magic do the rest. We just can't bring the Relic outside, or the magic protection will come less."
"Can't believe the headmaster wants you to use this relic thing," Yang retorted. "Weight of the world on the shoulders much?"
"Eh, no more than my usual Monday morning," I answered with a grin, the elevator coming to a halt at the beginning of a large stone bridge, which ended at a golden door gently suffused with a golden glow of its own. "There it is," I said.
"Let's just get this over with quickly," Qrow grumbled, "The sooner we put the relic back where it's safe, the better."
"Uncle Qrow, you're nervous too?" Yang asked, trying to sound cheekily even as we advanced on the bridge.
"You have no idea, kiddo," Qrow muttered, "Psycho brawn for brains gave you a watered down version of what happened, but it's not until you see what you're dealing with that you understand," he shook his head and stopped midway through the bridge, "I'll wait here. Just in case my bad luck decides to flare up again precisely when it's important. Also, watch your back."
"Fine," Yang rolled her eyes, but still advanced. I gave Qrow a nod, and he returned one of his own. We finally halted in front of the massive golden door, and this time I gestured with my head at Yang to do the honors.
She neared it, and then winced as her hands touched the golden surface. It sparked right up, lights shining across the frame as fluttering butterflies of color flew off the surface, the brimming magical energy slowly opening the door and revealing amidst a desert of sand the relic itself, floating gingerly upon a pedestal.
I hopped on the white platforms that led to the pedestal, and stopped once in front of the relic.
My heart drummed in my chest as I grabbed hold of the relic, feeling its weight.
"Jinn!" I spoke, "I summon you!"
It pulsed softly, electric-like currents pouring through my arm and through my body as the blue and golden figure of Jinn materialized in mid-air, in her giant-like form. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, and looked down at me with a kind smile.
"Wonderful, I was expecting you," she said with a smile. "One could even say...I knew you would come."
I blinked at that, but then opened my mouth to speak. Jinn extended a hand in warning, and I closed my mouth sharply. "I can answer that question, make no mistake," she whispered, "and I wish to, for it is quite the intelligent question too. However, there will be a price to pay for it," her smile was sad as she spoke, "To show something is one thing. To teach it, it is another. Your body will not age, but unless you learn, that question may just as well be the doom of your soul."
"You confirmed the question was intelligent," I muttered back.
"Yes, but just because something is intelligent, it does not make it wise," Jinn answered. "You are, perhaps, the most interesting human I have ever had the pleasure to know the life of." Her lips twitched in a smile. "And what tangled webs, what incredible lives you have lived," she chuckled as she said that, even though I merely blinked at that strange remark, "I sincerely do wish to teach you. Ask the question, and I will be delighted-incredibly so, but know that whether it is your doom or not, solely depends on your abilities."
"Oi," Yang spoke from slightly behind me. "I don't know what's going on, but if it's something suicidal, I was warned to tell you that there's an angry midget and an even angrier cat-girl waiting upstairs for a report on what went down here."
I chuckled at that and, surprisingly, Jinn chuckled too, as if she knew what my answer would be. "It's going to be all right," I said with an amused smirk on my face. "Differently from my teammates, I do so enjoy learning." I turned to look up at Jinn, who was standing in wait.
"Whatever will be, will be," I hummed, "The future is not ours to see."
Jinn giggled, and cocked her head to the side. "Ask the question, then."
"What are the multiple things that you can teach me, out of everything you know, that could be useful in a meeting with Salem?" and as I asked the question, the world around me disappeared.
The sands were gone, and so too was Yang. Jinn too wasn't there. There was only whiteness.
There was snow, thick and heavy, falling down from the skies like the most turbulent of blizzards.
"You already know how Salem came to be," Jinn spoke, her voice everywhere and nowhere at the same time. "What you do not know, however, are her reasons for hating humanity."
Dots of darkness spread across the whiteness of the snow, Grimm clawing their way out of the ground as they advanced. Amidst them, a pale figure walked, her eyes lifeless and her face a cruel sneer.
"At first she merely lashed out from her hatred," villages were shown burning, some aided by flames sprouted by magic, or earthquakes rippling across the ground, "but even so, she soon realized that no matter how many she killed, humanity would prove resilient, and return again and again."
More villages rose across fertile plains, and upon the ruins of the old ones. The Grimm attacked them, and just as many fell as more were built. "Thus, she decided for another plan, one born of cruel spite."
I could see Salem overlooking the long bend of a river human houses being built alongside it, fists clenched. "If I cannot kill them myself," she muttered, "I'll make the Gods do it for me."
"She doesn't care she might still be cursed with immortality even after that, does she?" I muttered, glancing at her frame as she retreated from the hill overlook.
"It does not matter," Jinn muttered in my ear, "There is no life left in her. She is already dead, and the only thing that she cares about is the destruction of humanity. It is what she has become, a revenant of destruction," she clicked her tongue against her teeth, "She wishes to spite Ozma one last time, destroy his precious humanity for which he sacrificed their daughters, and have the Gods forced to acknowledge their failure, and their fallible existence. She will laugh for all eternity if that were to come to pass, and there is nothing else in her that would make her feel more satisfied."
I turned thoughtful.
"Ah," Jinn chuckled, "You may not have to stay here for long if you are this quick on the uptake."
The scenery changed. The bubbling pools of darkness from which the Grimm spawned stood amidst a scenery of desert and death.
"The Grimm are created from Destruction itself. The God of Darkness formed them in a mockery of the God of Light's creation, and with jealousy in mind. They seek but to destroy all that has been created, but they are inherently inferior. They are but shadows of the hatred of the God of Darkness, and once the very last blooming flower will burn, then they will cease to exist their purpose spent. Yet even then, the God of Darkness would have them blot out the stars," Jinn sighed. "When Salem fell into the pool from which they were born, the God of Light's curse protected her from suffering the same fate as many others. In so doing, however, it created an all-together different breed of monster."
I watched the scene happen, and then witnessed Salem grip her heart. "She was still capable of love," Jinn murmured. "Happiness, joy, of creating life," her daughters were born one after the other. She was a gentle and caring mother in private, offering caresses and hugs, gently playing with her daughters by using magic, "But when she lost them...she ripped out her own heart."
I blinked at that. Then I saw a scene so gory, I would have rather not have to see it at all. Salem's finger dug into her chest and with a scream, she ripped and squashed her heart with her very hand.
"It grew back," Jinn whispered, "and thus she ripped it out again."
The scene repeated.
"And again."
It happened once more. My eyes were wide.
"And again."
Every time she did so, the veins within her body pulsed angrily as the darkness of the Grimm Pools spread further within her. Then, in the end, she stopped.
"There is no love left within her," Jinn whispered, "No joy, or happiness. She cannot be convinced to stop her task, and she cannot be defeated for as long as the curse of the God of Light stays within her."
"But there is a way," I said in a hushed whisper. "Not to defeat her, not to stop her, but to weaken and perhaps imprison her."
Jinn's giggle echoed in the air. "There are many, some more practical than others-"
A space rocket flying through the air, hefty chains to fully bind her and deep in the bottom of the ocean throw her, or someone lifting her up and throwing her in a volcano-there were many methods, apparently. Yet, they all hinged on something else to happen.
"This brings us to her magic," Jinn acquiesced. "Magic is a gift of the God of Darkness, it is destruction at its finest, the ability to impose one's will on the fabric of creation by destroying its laws." A scene of mages conjuring forth lightning from their fingertips, and using waves to drown villages, materialized in front of me.
"The God of Darkness oversaw that magic would replenish by his will," the all-knowing Genie added. "But as he left, he took the gift of magic away with him. The only ones he could not touch were Salem, whose curse protected her from him, and Ozma, who was dead at the time. It was an oversight," she added, "An oversight of beings that I must refer to as Gods, and with that choice word said, you have already understood," she laughed gingerly in happiness. "My, if only more people had been so interesting as you, it would have made for a less boring imprisonment."
The scene changed. We were witnessing Salem, once more. "Her magic is great. Her father, a great king, imprisoned her within a tower guarded by incredible golems and guardians because he feared her, and what her powers could do. Even now, with the God of Darkness gone thousands of years ago, she still holds on to that great power. She will not use it carelessly, but if her attention is required-" a scene of Salem, sprouting wings out of a Belial's body, "She will use that which she has hand. She is parsimonious, but also callous and cruel," another scene, of Raven and Qrow this time.
They were both standing in the middle of a forested area, and the figure of Salem was apparently traipsing in the woods.
"She can be stabbed, she can be hurt," Jinn whispered as Raven's blade dug into Salem's body while Qrow's scythe-like weapon aimed for her head. "But she cannot be dismembered," the scythe dug into her neck, but stopped an inch away from fully decapitating her, "and she cannot be burned to cinders," flames left Raven's sword, but even those had no effect.
"Is that all?" Salem whispered, amused.
"She enjoys destroying, and bringing forth misery and pain," Jinn acquiesced. With but one hand, merely moved to her side, Qrow's weapon flew off and slammed into a nearby tree. No, it didn't fly off. It was shattered in half.
Raven's blade, she grabbed with an index and a middle finger, and gently pushed it out from her body even as it was clear that Raven was trying her hardest to hold her back.
"Terror is to her like the sweetest of nectar," Jinn mused. "And if you fear her, then she will know."
"So have no fear when facing something that cannot be defeated," I said with a hum, "Sounds easy enough."
Jinn laughed.
I hummed, "Then again, in war there are always more solutions than merely defeating an enemy or being defeated by an enemy."
"Correct," Jinn's voice was a whisper. It was a whisper filled with maniacal glee. It was as if someone had finally asked the question that was the mother of all questions. I reckoned that being created to share knowledge, and being unable to if the question wasn't the right one, might make anyone giddy when someone finally got the right question out.
The scenery changed again.
"Yet in order to get there, we must start at the very beginning," Jinn's voice was mellifluous, and kind. "For when one story ends, then another, naturally...must begin."
It was a palace in ruins. Rubble covered most of it. In the distance, cries could be heard. And from the rubble, a lone, pale hand slowly pushed its way out.
Blond hair, and clear blue eyes, and a tattered cerulean dress.
It was one of Salem's daughters.
It was a survivor.
She was terrified. It was easy to see on her face, "Lent? Autum? Sawra?" she mumbled, looking around her immediate surroundings. "Where...where are you?"
She turned her attention to a corpse standing on the ground not too far away from her.
"Dad!" she shrieked, rushing for him. Ozma's body was unresponsive. "Dad-" she whimpered, "W-Who did this?" she winced, tears starting to fall from her face. "Mom? It was...it was mom."
She swallowed, and then looked around. The village was in flames, and thick columns of smoke rose in the air. The ground trembled, and lightning bolts echoed in the distance.
"It's mom," she whispered. "She's killing everyone-"
She looked around, "She-She killed my sisters-" she clutched her chest, "She wanted to kill me too."
Carefully, the girl stood up, and then began to run away. She ran as far as her short legs could carry her. The forest nearby was tall and dark, but I reckoned it was relatively safe with all the Grimm currently busy by the village nearby.
"Little Wyntr was the oldest, and the luckiest," Jinn mused. "She survived, and made her escape."
I looked at the girl in question as she stopped walking after a short while. Haze left her mouth, and her arms were shaking even as she hugged herself. "As with all tales that have such dark beginnings, a candle's light of warmth arrived," Jinn continued, and the figure of a hunter of sorts appeared from the depths of the forest, two dogs yapping by his side and playfully going in circles around him. The human couldn't be older than thirteen, perhaps fourteen.
His hair was silver, and he had a bow slung around his shoulder, a dead deer around his neck.
His eyes glanced down at the wounded, tired girl, whom the two dogs of his had sniffed out.
I glanced at the scene, and crossed my arms in front of my chest.
"What was the huntsman's name?" I asked.
"Babhdan," Jinn said.
"What kind of name is Babhdan?" I retorted.
"What kind of name is Kagayaku, Shade?" Jinn retorted, and I most aptly shut up.
There was the incredibly embarrassing feeling that Jinn did, indeed, know everything. Somehow, the fact she giggled told me I was right about that.
"Names, however, are not important right now," Jinn whispered, "But they will become important soon."
The figure of Wyntr looked torn, a simple patchwork of furs and leather her new clothing. Babhdan had apparently taken her in, even though he was probably only slightly older than her.
"It's not safe staying here," Wyntr murmured one night, "She might find us."
"The Goddess?" Babhdan mumbled back. "She...she really killed everyone, even the God-King?"
Wyntr nodded, and Babhdan sighed. "Where would it ever be safe from a Goddess?"
Wyntr turned thoughtful at that. "Somewhere she wouldn't think humans could ever live, thus wouldn't go looking for them."
Babhdan blinked at that, "But how would we be capable of living there then?"
Wyntr opened her mouth, and then closed it. She clenched her fists against her clothes, and then looked at the teenage boy in question. "I-I have a way we can manage."
She extended one hand in front of her, and warily smiled as tiny flickers of magic spread around it.
"Is that-"
"Magic," Wyntr whispered. "I-"
Babhdan was on his knees and prostrated within mere seconds. "I didn't know you were the daughter of the Gods-"
"Please don't!" Wyntr exclaimed, getting down on her own knees to grab hold of Babhdan's shoulders. "I'm-I'm nothing like them, but we need to hurry."
The scene changed again.
"Babhdan was an orphan, and without attachments," Jinn mused. "He gladly followed Wyntr into what the locals called the Desert of Ice."
I had a feeling the story was going somewhere.
It was somewhere I didn't really like it to go, but it was where it was headed all the same.
It was clear that years had gone by. There was a village dug in the sides of a mountain by then, and bubbling pools of water that looked like hot springs. Stone aqueducts were dragging the hot water across it and into the caverns, from which people were going about their usual business.
"While Salem went on her rampage, humans scattered," Jinn mused, "And some made their way here, to a place where no human would normally ever think of living."
"This became Mantle then?" I asked.
"Oh no," Jinn shook her head. "Though this is the start of the population of what is now known as Atlas, but the Kingdom of Mantle is quite a few centuries further down the line."
I turned thoughtful, and then watched as an adult Wyntr walked out from her house, a silver-haired kid holding her hand.
"Magic was a powerful tool," Jinn mused, "But not one that could be developed further, not without guidance, and especially could not be inherited, not to the full potential of its predecessors."
Wyntr attempted to teach her son what to do, but it was useless.
"Thus, another solution had to be found."
The creatures of Grimm rarely ventured towards the settlement, but the bigger it got, the more random strays grew interested. One was chained, and captured, and Wyntr took care of it.
"That is where it all began," Jinn said as Wyntr's hand touched the head of the bound Grimm.
Darkness receded, and the whiteness took its place. The eyes turned from crimson red to pale blue, and where once stood a Grimm that sought naught but destruction, there now was but a harmless Grimm, which dissipated into flakes of snow shortly thereafter.
"Niklaus," Wyntr whispered to her son, "I am so sorry."
"For what, mother?" her son asked back, and there was nothing but a bitter smile on Wyntr's face.
"For what I am destining you to become," her hand gingerly touched her son's cheek, and she planted a loving kiss on his forehead. "Through this, become a shield to the people and a sword to rise above all others. I release your soul and let its warmth cloak you, and I promise you, I will always protect you."
The raucous screaming etched itself deeply within my soul.
"It was successful," Jinn mused, "But not painless."
I swallowed, even though my throat was considerably dry.
Niklaus' hair was white now. White as snow, and white as the Grimm that his mother had converted.
"For what are life's greatest achievements, if they are earned without pain and suffering?" Jinn added next.
I clenched my fists tightly. "This isn't how the story ends, is it?"
Jinn laughed.
"Of course not," she whispered.
"This...is merely the beginning of the end."
- Location
- Philippines
So basically he is Wyntr's descendant?
Silver W. King
King of Adventures
- Location
- The Nasuverse
All Schnee are Wyntr's descendants. Holy shit.
IronLucario2012
<Verified Pokémon> <Licensed Mech Pilot>
- Location
- Ireland
I'd guess that since they're wrapped up in the first question still, these questions are considered part of the learning process to teach him all this at all.
Fragnostic
Cheshire
- Location
- Neko City
Woah, Gorm was right about Wren being the Promised King but he misjudged WHICH kingdom it was...
Also, Wren can be a God Emperor too, lol.
Also, Wren can be a God Emperor too, lol.
This is the one time I'm going to say this.
FUCKIN CLIFFHANGER REALLY
FUCKIN CLIFFHANGER REALLY
LordOfPears12
Cat girl headpatter
- Location
- Land of pizza,pasta and lasagna.
Damn RoosterTeeth should hire Shade as their story director. And writer.
We need to make a petition. #MakeRwbyGreatAgain
We need to make a petition. #MakeRwbyGreatAgain
Last edited:
Chapter One Hundred and Eighteen
- Location
- https://discord.gg/z9tBvbh
Chapter One Hundred and Eighteen
"Power corrupts," Jinn spoke, "perhaps not immediately, but inevitably those who hold within their hands the power to do as they wish realize that little truly can hold them back. It is their fault, as much as the fault of the people around them."
I arched an eyebrow, even as time went by and the small village kept growing in size, stone and rocks replacing the caverns.
"How does one forge the spirit of a nation?" Jinn remarked, "How does one look at their people, and proudly proclaim them the most advanced civilization? What even makes a civilization? Hardships, perhaps. Wealth, perhaps. Yet even so, Wyntr story met its end on a quiet morning, surrounded by her loved ones, having no other wish but that to see her dead family again in the afterlife. Her son grew to become a powerful huntsman, and by his hand, he did as his mother had taught him, and unlocked the Semblances of his children."
White hair was a remarkable trait that many in the village seemed to share. "When people have similar characteristics, they tend to flock to one another. When divisions are born, when power is needed, then those who wield it become guardians, protectors...or tyrants, and raiders," the snowflake symbol of the Schnee family stood etched on some crude shields made of ice, just as much as another symbol of concentric circles was drawn on others. "They were both the same family, and then they became different. The Snaiwaz, and the Kringels-they both wielded the family Semblance to an art form, but while some sought to protect those around them...others sought to conquer with it."
The Kringels moved away, white-haired and with probably more than half the village behind them. "That is how Mantle will be born," Jinn mused. "That is how the Kingdom of Mantle will see its origin."
The scenery changed to a milder climate. There was less snow involved, and way more vegetation. There were people living in huts and wooden houses, simple wood walls keeping others at bay. "Raiders, what you would call 'Vikings', that was how the Kringels acquired wealth. And through that wealth, and through their power, they forged a kingdom."
The houses burned as white Grimm weakened the defenders, before the real huntsmen arrived to kill, and pillage, and bring slaves back to their own, sprawling city of stone.
Stone walls and stone buildings rose, higher and higher, the concentric circles on banners attached at the forefront of many houses. "The family Semblance was strong, but even so, it followed its own rules. In thousands of years, with it being inherited, it should have spread to all corners of the known world, and yet it did not."
I felt something cold, and unsettling, nestle within my stomach. "I don't like where this is going."
Jinn's voice turned sorrowful, "Perhaps it was an honest mistake, perhaps it was intended, but the Schnee Semblance is finite, just like magic. It is beautiful, like snow, and yet all too easily can it melt away to leave nothing behind. Many a mother wept when their children were born soulless and thus, dead."
I grimaced.
"And much blood was shed, when the answer became obvious as for why," flames sprouted across buildings, people died by the score and white, blue-eyed Grimm teared and ripped into one another with maniacal gusto. "As much as a soul could be infinite, magic was not, and it demanded its price paid in blood."
A lonely king with a crown made of ice stood upon a throne of white marble. His eyes were tired, and nearly as lifeless.
"The kingdom would have fallen to itself, had a solution not been found. Branches of the family were dying off, others were being assassinated," Jinn spoke in a hushed whisper, "And that was when the first King of Mantle decided that only one family would have to remain...and those, long forgotten, would have to be purged."
The snowy caverns of the beginning were now looking slightly better, and the people within lived in harmony, all things said and seen. It was a harmony that the steel and the Schnee Semblance, wielded by viking-like individuals, soon turned into ashes and corpses.
Then, those very raiders were assaulted from behind by another group formed of mercenaries and thugs, of huntsmen with their own semblances, and their own powers.
And the first King of Mantle stood upon his throne and nodded to himself, proud of having saved his family, even though bones littered his every step.
There was no hurling, and there was little need for it. My stomach was empty, and pretty much made of steel.
"And thus the dynasty of the Kringle was secured for the generations to come," there was a chuckle escaping Jinn's lips. "Never more than two," she said, and as she said that, I understood. Never more than two children. Never more than one to become heir, and one to be the spare.
Never more than two, or the consequences would one day be too dire.
And thus it was, for generations to come.
Until one day, the tired-looking last king of Mantle stared into the emptiness of his throne room and sighed.
"Nicholas," a white-haired man wearing a red shirt and a leather jacket looked up at the king, an equally white-haired man, if quite older, and wearing a thick polar bear fur. "You know the family rule. Your brother is already married. He will start a family soon."
"But father-" the youth stammered.
"Never more than two," the king growled. "That is the royal decree. It is the basis of our strength-would you have me order any child born of you and your beloved killed? Is that what you wish of me?"
"You're the king!" Nicholas shot right back, "You're the one who makes the rules!"
"And I am also the one who makes sure they are respected!" the King roared back. "Enough! If you were not my son, I would have you executed!"
"If I were not your son, I wouldn't need your permission to live my life!" Nicholas shot back, before leaving in a hurry.
"Where did I go wrong with the likes of him," the King whispered under his breath, before shaking his head and glancing at the guards still in the throne room. "Leave me be," he ordered, and the guards obeyed.
Silence was all that remained in the large, circular room. He massaged his forehead, and then the side of his face. "He's in love, that stupid boy-I should have never let his mother convince me to give Klaus a little brother. I should have known better." He gritted his teeth as the doors of his throne room opened up. "Who dares barge in without being announced!?" he roared at the offending individual, who didn't really look worried, nor scared.
Salem looked regal enough, even though her appearance made the king gasp in disbelief. "I could not help but hear the King's laments at his unruly son," she said mellifluously. "And I have come to bring a solution, if his Majesty would hear it?"
"And who the hell are you?" he growled back.
"I am but a mere huntress who has seen much of the world," Salem answered amiably, "And what I have seen has rendered me wise beyond my appearance, and saddened by how such a wise king such as yourself isn't in charge of it all."
There was a click of the king's tongue, "I have had my fair deal of sycophants, but you haven't even presented yourself! Let's hear it then, huntress. What do you want from me? I'll have your head chopped off afterwards, but let it never be said that I don't reward bravery!"
Salem laughed gingerly, and then shook her head.
"Under your wise reign the Kingdom of Mantle has grown strong, and powerful," Salem said. "And yet there are certain things that could be done to render it even more powerful. Did you know, oh wise king, that Grimm are attracted to emotions? Not just despair, not just horror-but also joy, and love. For they have learned, you see, that by shattering true happiness they can obtain even more despair."
The King looked at her and grimaced, "This is the first I hear of this, huntress. You will have to prove your words," he turned thoughtful, "But you did simmer my rage somewhat. I'll let you leave with your head on your shoulders, just because I'm merciful."
Salem smiled, and bowed her head. The smile on her face was clear as day, at least for me. "Thank you, your highness."
And then she left, the door closing behind her. "How did she even get inside," the King muttered, but then he shook his head, and stood up. "I have other things to worry about-guards! Get me the advisers for the Grimm threat!"
Jinn chuckled, and her voice took over. "With Salem expertly guiding the backstage, it became clear that indeed, emotions such as love and joy were as likely as those of misery to attract the Grimm, though that was not true, not at all. From the shadows, she convinced the nobles of Mistral to ally, and with them-well, the Great War would have begun, had Ozma not interfered as the King of Vale. Yet, in so doing, he revealed his presence and that of the Relics he had so desperately managed to hide from Salem."
Jinn hummed, "He knew he would die if he faced Salem head on. He understood how kings could all too easily fall sway to her, and thus created the Maidens, split his powers in four, and hid the Relics where only a Maiden could open the way. The King of Vale died, Salem taking peculiar glee in doing so and yet still having lost her chance at recovering the Relics. For now she needed to teach someone who would be loyal, and would owe her a debt that could never be repaid in one's lifetime-"
There was a river, and laughing teenagers by the stream. A crying and tearful girl clutched on the tattered remains of her dress, and the next second she wore a form-fitting red one, and corpses stood where once the bullies had been. Cinder's golden eyes looked up to Salem, a cruel smile soon forming on her face.
"As for Nicholas Kringle, he ran from the war, from his family, and found the old Snaiwaz settlement. He hoped to find family there, but all he found were ruins, the Schnee Symbol...and the other side of the tale of blood of his family," Jinn sighed. "Yet this awakened something into him. The desire to explore the world of Remnant, to seek amend, to aid the people. Through finding Dust Veins, through enabling people to be warmed, to be clothed, to be capable of protecting themselves-he sought to remove the tragedy of the war from the minds of the people," I watched as Nicholas Schnee grew progressively older, married, had a daughter that would cry more often than not, earned the nickname of 'Weeping Willow', and through it all I watched as his end came to be.
"And then we come to our times," Jinn mused, "We come to the likes of you," she giggled as she said that, materializing by my side. "But you know the story better than I could ever tell it, is that not correct?"
"I suppose I do," I said in a whisper.
"And yet, you miss the point of the story," Jinn acquiesced. "Who are you, truly? A Schnee is what the soul of Wyntr makes you, but that is not whom you are. Whom you truly are is something even I can but parse across the vastness of the experiences that constitute your soul. You were born countless times, wielded magic and blades, was-"
I blinked at that. I looked up at her, and Jinn furrowed her brows. She inclined her head to the side, "That is wrong? But that cannot be wrong. I can clearly see them. The lives you lived-atop a golden...Chocobo? No?" she grew further puzzled, "How strange-I see them, I know them! If they were stories, I would know of it! To grasp at the soul of things-I know of the tale of Golden Locks and the three bears, and how there is similarity-and of the Red Riding Hood and the big bad wolf, the Cruel witch and the wizard of Oz-and yet, even the rest, all of those are stories?"
"I-I think you're treating everything I've written as belonging to my soul, or something like that," I acquiesced. "But...shouldn't you know that?"
"Oh, oh! Of course," Jinn chuckled as realization seemed to dawn on her. "Your Semblance. I thought it asleep, but it truly never was-"
"Jinn?" I asked, "What are you talking about?"
"It is knowledge, and it might prove useful," Jinn remarked. "Thus, this too, is part of the first wise question someone finally deigned to ask me!"
I was glad she had found some kind of sense of it, because I hadn't.
"Then...explain?"
The scenery changed. "The God of Life breathed life into the world, gave humans their souls, and awoke in them their Auras and their Semblances. When he left, he knew humans would be reborn, and while he hoped they would learn how to use their Auras and Semblances, he did not teach them how. Humans found out by themselves-and all human souls are thus bound by the magic of Creation, and by that of Destruction. But yours-yours is not a soul of this world."
I blinked. "Wait. What."
"The Sword of Destruction may make you bleed, but it cannot destroy you. The Staff of Creation can heal your wounds, but cannot bring you back to life. The Crown of Choice cannot force you to obey its wishes. The Relic of Knowledge, myself, cannot truly know you. And the Gods-the Gods are powerless to the likes of you, for you do not belong to them."
"That helps me with Salem because..."
"Because-" Jinn grew quiet. "I cannot tell you."
Her eyes widened. Her breathing hitched. She looked down at me and I stared back at her with my brows furrowed. "I cannot tell you," she repeated. "For of the many things I can say, a few I cannot. I cannot hint at what they are, but they are clear to understand. They-"
"Against the gods, their creations hold no power," I muttered, and Jinn nodded, a loud gasp of relief leaving her lungs. "You cannot speak of their weaknesses, you cannot speak of what might damage, or hurt them-you cannot even reveal if they are anything else but Gods, but even so...the absence of an answer is sometimes an answer by itself."
I frowned, "Her curse," I muttered. "I-I can destroy it."
Jinn's arms engulfed me to her chest and she squeezed, lifting me up and pirouetting me around. She didn't speak, but her actions spoke volumes, just as much as her bountiful properties spoke volumes once more. "Aw, you," Jinn teased amiably, before letting me down.
I gasped for air, and then sighed. "Need to get close to her, though."
"Oh, but you will," Jinn acquiesced. With her hand, she changed the scenery around us. A white-haired man wielding an ax and looking every bit like a Viking, was extending his free hand by his side as the Schnee Glyph appeared. It was white, it was beautiful, but it was not the shape of a snowflake.
It was the shape of concentric circles, and it stood in place against the battering of an incoming attack.
"All that your ancestors have practiced, all that they have discovered and then was forgotten-" another Schnee wielded two Glyphs, spinning them around his hands before throwing them forward like deadly slicing chakrams, "all that the Schnee family semblance can do, even that which was barely possible-" from a summoning glyph, a large blade materialized in the hands of an unarmed Schnee, "You will learn, for that is one of the many things I will teach you."
I looked up at her, and there was something eerily akin to lust in her eyes.
Because to Jinn, apparently, knowing things was obvious, but teaching them...
...teaching them was the greatest of pleasures for her.
I-I think I need an adult!
"Power corrupts," Jinn spoke, "perhaps not immediately, but inevitably those who hold within their hands the power to do as they wish realize that little truly can hold them back. It is their fault, as much as the fault of the people around them."
I arched an eyebrow, even as time went by and the small village kept growing in size, stone and rocks replacing the caverns.
"How does one forge the spirit of a nation?" Jinn remarked, "How does one look at their people, and proudly proclaim them the most advanced civilization? What even makes a civilization? Hardships, perhaps. Wealth, perhaps. Yet even so, Wyntr story met its end on a quiet morning, surrounded by her loved ones, having no other wish but that to see her dead family again in the afterlife. Her son grew to become a powerful huntsman, and by his hand, he did as his mother had taught him, and unlocked the Semblances of his children."
White hair was a remarkable trait that many in the village seemed to share. "When people have similar characteristics, they tend to flock to one another. When divisions are born, when power is needed, then those who wield it become guardians, protectors...or tyrants, and raiders," the snowflake symbol of the Schnee family stood etched on some crude shields made of ice, just as much as another symbol of concentric circles was drawn on others. "They were both the same family, and then they became different. The Snaiwaz, and the Kringels-they both wielded the family Semblance to an art form, but while some sought to protect those around them...others sought to conquer with it."
The Kringels moved away, white-haired and with probably more than half the village behind them. "That is how Mantle will be born," Jinn mused. "That is how the Kingdom of Mantle will see its origin."
The scenery changed to a milder climate. There was less snow involved, and way more vegetation. There were people living in huts and wooden houses, simple wood walls keeping others at bay. "Raiders, what you would call 'Vikings', that was how the Kringels acquired wealth. And through that wealth, and through their power, they forged a kingdom."
The houses burned as white Grimm weakened the defenders, before the real huntsmen arrived to kill, and pillage, and bring slaves back to their own, sprawling city of stone.
Stone walls and stone buildings rose, higher and higher, the concentric circles on banners attached at the forefront of many houses. "The family Semblance was strong, but even so, it followed its own rules. In thousands of years, with it being inherited, it should have spread to all corners of the known world, and yet it did not."
I felt something cold, and unsettling, nestle within my stomach. "I don't like where this is going."
Jinn's voice turned sorrowful, "Perhaps it was an honest mistake, perhaps it was intended, but the Schnee Semblance is finite, just like magic. It is beautiful, like snow, and yet all too easily can it melt away to leave nothing behind. Many a mother wept when their children were born soulless and thus, dead."
I grimaced.
"And much blood was shed, when the answer became obvious as for why," flames sprouted across buildings, people died by the score and white, blue-eyed Grimm teared and ripped into one another with maniacal gusto. "As much as a soul could be infinite, magic was not, and it demanded its price paid in blood."
A lonely king with a crown made of ice stood upon a throne of white marble. His eyes were tired, and nearly as lifeless.
"The kingdom would have fallen to itself, had a solution not been found. Branches of the family were dying off, others were being assassinated," Jinn spoke in a hushed whisper, "And that was when the first King of Mantle decided that only one family would have to remain...and those, long forgotten, would have to be purged."
The snowy caverns of the beginning were now looking slightly better, and the people within lived in harmony, all things said and seen. It was a harmony that the steel and the Schnee Semblance, wielded by viking-like individuals, soon turned into ashes and corpses.
Then, those very raiders were assaulted from behind by another group formed of mercenaries and thugs, of huntsmen with their own semblances, and their own powers.
And the first King of Mantle stood upon his throne and nodded to himself, proud of having saved his family, even though bones littered his every step.
There was no hurling, and there was little need for it. My stomach was empty, and pretty much made of steel.
"And thus the dynasty of the Kringle was secured for the generations to come," there was a chuckle escaping Jinn's lips. "Never more than two," she said, and as she said that, I understood. Never more than two children. Never more than one to become heir, and one to be the spare.
Never more than two, or the consequences would one day be too dire.
And thus it was, for generations to come.
Until one day, the tired-looking last king of Mantle stared into the emptiness of his throne room and sighed.
"Nicholas," a white-haired man wearing a red shirt and a leather jacket looked up at the king, an equally white-haired man, if quite older, and wearing a thick polar bear fur. "You know the family rule. Your brother is already married. He will start a family soon."
"But father-" the youth stammered.
"Never more than two," the king growled. "That is the royal decree. It is the basis of our strength-would you have me order any child born of you and your beloved killed? Is that what you wish of me?"
"You're the king!" Nicholas shot right back, "You're the one who makes the rules!"
"And I am also the one who makes sure they are respected!" the King roared back. "Enough! If you were not my son, I would have you executed!"
"If I were not your son, I wouldn't need your permission to live my life!" Nicholas shot back, before leaving in a hurry.
"Where did I go wrong with the likes of him," the King whispered under his breath, before shaking his head and glancing at the guards still in the throne room. "Leave me be," he ordered, and the guards obeyed.
Silence was all that remained in the large, circular room. He massaged his forehead, and then the side of his face. "He's in love, that stupid boy-I should have never let his mother convince me to give Klaus a little brother. I should have known better." He gritted his teeth as the doors of his throne room opened up. "Who dares barge in without being announced!?" he roared at the offending individual, who didn't really look worried, nor scared.
Salem looked regal enough, even though her appearance made the king gasp in disbelief. "I could not help but hear the King's laments at his unruly son," she said mellifluously. "And I have come to bring a solution, if his Majesty would hear it?"
"And who the hell are you?" he growled back.
"I am but a mere huntress who has seen much of the world," Salem answered amiably, "And what I have seen has rendered me wise beyond my appearance, and saddened by how such a wise king such as yourself isn't in charge of it all."
There was a click of the king's tongue, "I have had my fair deal of sycophants, but you haven't even presented yourself! Let's hear it then, huntress. What do you want from me? I'll have your head chopped off afterwards, but let it never be said that I don't reward bravery!"
Salem laughed gingerly, and then shook her head.
"Under your wise reign the Kingdom of Mantle has grown strong, and powerful," Salem said. "And yet there are certain things that could be done to render it even more powerful. Did you know, oh wise king, that Grimm are attracted to emotions? Not just despair, not just horror-but also joy, and love. For they have learned, you see, that by shattering true happiness they can obtain even more despair."
The King looked at her and grimaced, "This is the first I hear of this, huntress. You will have to prove your words," he turned thoughtful, "But you did simmer my rage somewhat. I'll let you leave with your head on your shoulders, just because I'm merciful."
Salem smiled, and bowed her head. The smile on her face was clear as day, at least for me. "Thank you, your highness."
And then she left, the door closing behind her. "How did she even get inside," the King muttered, but then he shook his head, and stood up. "I have other things to worry about-guards! Get me the advisers for the Grimm threat!"
Jinn chuckled, and her voice took over. "With Salem expertly guiding the backstage, it became clear that indeed, emotions such as love and joy were as likely as those of misery to attract the Grimm, though that was not true, not at all. From the shadows, she convinced the nobles of Mistral to ally, and with them-well, the Great War would have begun, had Ozma not interfered as the King of Vale. Yet, in so doing, he revealed his presence and that of the Relics he had so desperately managed to hide from Salem."
Jinn hummed, "He knew he would die if he faced Salem head on. He understood how kings could all too easily fall sway to her, and thus created the Maidens, split his powers in four, and hid the Relics where only a Maiden could open the way. The King of Vale died, Salem taking peculiar glee in doing so and yet still having lost her chance at recovering the Relics. For now she needed to teach someone who would be loyal, and would owe her a debt that could never be repaid in one's lifetime-"
There was a river, and laughing teenagers by the stream. A crying and tearful girl clutched on the tattered remains of her dress, and the next second she wore a form-fitting red one, and corpses stood where once the bullies had been. Cinder's golden eyes looked up to Salem, a cruel smile soon forming on her face.
"As for Nicholas Kringle, he ran from the war, from his family, and found the old Snaiwaz settlement. He hoped to find family there, but all he found were ruins, the Schnee Symbol...and the other side of the tale of blood of his family," Jinn sighed. "Yet this awakened something into him. The desire to explore the world of Remnant, to seek amend, to aid the people. Through finding Dust Veins, through enabling people to be warmed, to be clothed, to be capable of protecting themselves-he sought to remove the tragedy of the war from the minds of the people," I watched as Nicholas Schnee grew progressively older, married, had a daughter that would cry more often than not, earned the nickname of 'Weeping Willow', and through it all I watched as his end came to be.
"And then we come to our times," Jinn mused, "We come to the likes of you," she giggled as she said that, materializing by my side. "But you know the story better than I could ever tell it, is that not correct?"
"I suppose I do," I said in a whisper.
"And yet, you miss the point of the story," Jinn acquiesced. "Who are you, truly? A Schnee is what the soul of Wyntr makes you, but that is not whom you are. Whom you truly are is something even I can but parse across the vastness of the experiences that constitute your soul. You were born countless times, wielded magic and blades, was-"
I blinked at that. I looked up at her, and Jinn furrowed her brows. She inclined her head to the side, "That is wrong? But that cannot be wrong. I can clearly see them. The lives you lived-atop a golden...Chocobo? No?" she grew further puzzled, "How strange-I see them, I know them! If they were stories, I would know of it! To grasp at the soul of things-I know of the tale of Golden Locks and the three bears, and how there is similarity-and of the Red Riding Hood and the big bad wolf, the Cruel witch and the wizard of Oz-and yet, even the rest, all of those are stories?"
"I-I think you're treating everything I've written as belonging to my soul, or something like that," I acquiesced. "But...shouldn't you know that?"
"Oh, oh! Of course," Jinn chuckled as realization seemed to dawn on her. "Your Semblance. I thought it asleep, but it truly never was-"
"Jinn?" I asked, "What are you talking about?"
"It is knowledge, and it might prove useful," Jinn remarked. "Thus, this too, is part of the first wise question someone finally deigned to ask me!"
I was glad she had found some kind of sense of it, because I hadn't.
"Then...explain?"
The scenery changed. "The God of Life breathed life into the world, gave humans their souls, and awoke in them their Auras and their Semblances. When he left, he knew humans would be reborn, and while he hoped they would learn how to use their Auras and Semblances, he did not teach them how. Humans found out by themselves-and all human souls are thus bound by the magic of Creation, and by that of Destruction. But yours-yours is not a soul of this world."
I blinked. "Wait. What."
"The Sword of Destruction may make you bleed, but it cannot destroy you. The Staff of Creation can heal your wounds, but cannot bring you back to life. The Crown of Choice cannot force you to obey its wishes. The Relic of Knowledge, myself, cannot truly know you. And the Gods-the Gods are powerless to the likes of you, for you do not belong to them."
"That helps me with Salem because..."
"Because-" Jinn grew quiet. "I cannot tell you."
Her eyes widened. Her breathing hitched. She looked down at me and I stared back at her with my brows furrowed. "I cannot tell you," she repeated. "For of the many things I can say, a few I cannot. I cannot hint at what they are, but they are clear to understand. They-"
"Against the gods, their creations hold no power," I muttered, and Jinn nodded, a loud gasp of relief leaving her lungs. "You cannot speak of their weaknesses, you cannot speak of what might damage, or hurt them-you cannot even reveal if they are anything else but Gods, but even so...the absence of an answer is sometimes an answer by itself."
I frowned, "Her curse," I muttered. "I-I can destroy it."
Jinn's arms engulfed me to her chest and she squeezed, lifting me up and pirouetting me around. She didn't speak, but her actions spoke volumes, just as much as her bountiful properties spoke volumes once more. "Aw, you," Jinn teased amiably, before letting me down.
I gasped for air, and then sighed. "Need to get close to her, though."
"Oh, but you will," Jinn acquiesced. With her hand, she changed the scenery around us. A white-haired man wielding an ax and looking every bit like a Viking, was extending his free hand by his side as the Schnee Glyph appeared. It was white, it was beautiful, but it was not the shape of a snowflake.
It was the shape of concentric circles, and it stood in place against the battering of an incoming attack.
"All that your ancestors have practiced, all that they have discovered and then was forgotten-" another Schnee wielded two Glyphs, spinning them around his hands before throwing them forward like deadly slicing chakrams, "all that the Schnee family semblance can do, even that which was barely possible-" from a summoning glyph, a large blade materialized in the hands of an unarmed Schnee, "You will learn, for that is one of the many things I will teach you."
I looked up at her, and there was something eerily akin to lust in her eyes.
Because to Jinn, apparently, knowing things was obvious, but teaching them...
...teaching them was the greatest of pleasures for her.
I-I think I need an adult!
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Psychonix
Dreaming and Scheming
- Location
- Ŭ̊̎͌̌̀̈́ͨͤ̉̽̽͢͏̷͈͕͈͔̳͔̮̬̱̖͜K̈́̂ͮͥͭ͒́ͯ̆ͦ̃͡҉̢̲̖͇͉͠ͅ
Silly Wren, Jinn is an adult.
Rogue Gemini
Wanderer without a Twin
- Location
- Here
BAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!
- 30 seconds later -
Okay, now that I'm getting that out of my system, I am genuinely excited to see Shade work towards defeating Salem. Right now though, can he survive Jinn's -ahem- "teaching methods"?
- 30 seconds later -
Okay, now that I'm getting that out of my system, I am genuinely excited to see Shade work towards defeating Salem. Right now though, can he survive Jinn's -ahem- "teaching methods"?
GameDragon
Too Hot To Handle
- Location
- Challenger Deep
Jinn: Now, now, there's no need to worry. I'm going to teach you such interesting things~ Maybe you'll teach your sisters what I taught you someday~
LordOfPears12
Cat girl headpatter
- Location
- Land of pizza,pasta and lasagna.
Gibbe the P0ssy B0ss, feed my children. Ah ah oh yeahhh.
N-nani?
Awesome exposition scene. Good fan service, Wrentastic chapter.
-1/10 not enough fan service. -IGN
Fragnostic
Cheshire
- Location
- Neko City
Wasn't Ozma the Old Wizard BEFORE being the King of Vale? The maidens were already there for him to use as keys.
- Location
- https://discord.gg/z9tBvbh
Eh it's a fifty fifty. Apparently the magic doors are one use only, and Ozpin had no magic juice left to remake them. So it's either he did it before the King of Vale battle, pulled the relics out for the battle and then resealed them, or he did it afterwards.