Thus a spark was born, and felt infinite kindling. The First Murderer, Cursed with an Endless Eternity who created and Ate a fruit of Evil alongside three of Life, Good and Evil. When he fell from the eternity Cain felt blood flow from his eyes, yet the pain faded quickly. His curse fueled by three Fruits of Life was not something even witnessing infinity could overcome.
If it was that simple God would have long killed him.
Cain felt his third eye of his soul open, and nearly everything was within his gaze. He saw a world enshrouded in darkness beset by a broken moon, he saw two immortals at war cursed by the gods just like him. He saw a city with an emerald beacon, and a castle in a land of darkness. He saw a silver haired man, and a black haired woman with a better ass than Lilith.
Lilith, grief pierced his heart and tears fell from his eyes. Still he would not waste a drop of God's blood, so he sheathed the knife in a second scabbard at his lower back. At the base a small vial, it was much easier to get a sample if all you need to do is stab something after all. The golden liquid slowly dripped towards the small large hollow glass bead at the tip.
His eye closed and he took strides towards the nearest civilization. A white tower, the same white tower that held his fellow immortal.
"I pra—no he better have tips." Cain silently hoped for the best. Hoped that someone would know how to heal his shattered mind, any wound of the body he could heal. He learned throughout the study of Azrael how to raise the dead. It is in the form of a simple elixir. . . well simple compared to the current Cain. The Cain of the past felt it an impossible challenge.
Miles passed like they always do, too quickly. Hours pass like seconds and existence just snaps between important moments. Cain remembered when he could just sit and watch the world move enthralled, but everything gets old eventually. Even this new world wasn't much different. No Eden nor YHWH simply a God of Light and a God of Darkness.
Cain slapped himself for his rudeness.
"Your going to ask for a favor, you need to bring a gift." So Cain walked to the side of the road and brushed his hand against the tree. The Reenactment of Myth, The Inversion of Concepts, Even From Darkness Light, Even From Murder Life. Thus the tree withered and died and in it's place a single drop of crimson liquid.
Cain raised his other hand and within it a bottle of glass appeared, using his magics the single drop floated and fell within that bottle. Soon a new path into the woods formed with twists and turns leading ever closer to the white tower, and that emerald light. Above a shattered moon sat shocking Cain stupid every time he saw it.
Then something fell from the sky, a contract from an old friend. Luci, you really do spoil me. Cain laughed loud and bright because The Lightbringer might have found a way to actually usurp God. Well, Cain knew where he would be in a few thousand years. They had to apparently wait for the rise and fall of Jesus, and the 1,000 year period of Satan's seal after the sacrifice.
Probably something about that Prophecy God created the moment he created existence. His Plan. Cain idly wondered what he should buy, and shrugged. Power Copying was good, though they called it tallents. Still if a tallent allowed him to learn how to use other's abilities by "training" his Immortality that's great.
The back of his palms itched to slap god with his own move. That is a mans romance! Cain sighed and continued wandering.
—
Yang sat in the auditorium and listened with half an ear to the headmaster. He was yapping about something but she focused on what was more important. Her little silly sister wandered in next to Vomit Boy. Such a loser, wearing armor like that. Armor over hoodie is the fuckin dorkiest! He had straw blond hair that fell in long greasy stripes, and blue eyes that twinkled with. . . special energy.
A NON mechashift weapon at his hip, like seriously? Yang used a pair of gauntlets that were also shotguns! Ruby had a Scythe that is also a sniper, but that Vomit Boy had a sword. Nothing special about it, just a sword. Anyone with a medium or long range weapon could just juke him running and shooting backwards.
She shook her head and glanced back at the headmaster as he ended his little speech.
Silently Yang stepped beside her sister.
Yang pulled the little ball of mechanical genius into a hug, and dragged her little sister silently into the crowd. Raven might abandon her, Tai might be distant, Qrow drunk, but Ruby would always be there for her. The perfect younger sister.
Time passed quickly as Ruby tried to make friends, failed and people slowly started taking out sleeping bags. Slowly people slept, and Yang just vibed. Tomorrow she would get into Beacon, today all she needed to do was sleep.
Then the hall door swung open and a single beam of moonlight cast itself into the dark room.
The half of the room not yet sleeping glanced over, including the Pyrah Nikos, the black haired girl with a bow, and the snowbitch that blew up her sister. Walking in the door, a man in a somber black robe. It gleamed in the moonlight like ink, and caught on his face. The strong jawline, and short curly black hair, his eyes like black pools, but something more caught Yang's eye.
Not just the sheer perfection of his stance, not showing a single opening. Every single instinct in her body screamed that this man could kill her, Aura no Aura knife or with his bear fucking hands. This man could kill her and every single person in this room between blinks, yet his face was twisted with a familiar mourning.
So Yang stepped forward, wary but welcoming, "Hey Stranger, what's a hunter like you doing in a school?" A hunter like you can be taken a lot of different ways depending on what type of person he is. He will probably take it in the way it would be intended for him.
He smiled showing a depth of emotion she couldn't begin to understand, but it was sad "You remind me of my mother." The black robed man shook himself out of his daze while Yang sized him up. A dagger sheathed at his hip, another sheith on his back from the way it pushed his robes. Though that sheath seemed empty, in his hand a clear glass bottle filled with the deepest crimson she had ever seen.
It sloshed with his movements as he said, "Let me introduce myself, Cain son of Adam, eternal wanderer, I'm here to meet the Head Wizard of your school."
Headwizard, did he mean Ozpin? She snorted at the joke and nodded, "Good luck with that he left about a half hour ago to Gods' know where."
His eyes darkened at the word God and she felt the shadow of death before he smiled and stepped past her. Feet guiding him straight to an Elevator. He eyed the contraption as if it were alien before pressing the up button. Yang blushed and stomped before glancing away from tall dark handsome and dangerous over there.
—
Ozpin was slightly surprised when the elevator swung open, and out walked death itself. Something inside him seemed to sing, it begged for him to prostrate himself before this figure and beg for an end to his existence.
Beacon academy, his school and the thousands of students he had taught in his lifetime, the kingdoms he had built, the humans out there living, laughing, loving. No, Ozma can not die yet, Ozpin needs to live on. The weight of the world on his shoulders, and it would just be so easy to flip the board. Stop playing the gods game and go back to his wife on his knees.
Ten, a hundred times she would accept eventually. Then they would meet the gods together as they had so many millions of years ago. An impossible dream, Ozpin sighed, "If you're here to kill me get on with it."
He couldn't die, but there was no way to escape Death before him. The man just blinked, and shrugged, "No, I am not here to kill you Wizard."
Death shook his head and plopped into the chair opposite Ozma himself. The weight on his sholders, the pressure behind your eyes. That screaming drone in the back of your mind that just will not cease. Ozpin's expression lightened as he placed a hand on the man's shoulder, "It's hard isn't it."
Staring at himself, Salem's corruption, his reincarnation. Over and over and over over and over over and over over and over over and over over and over over and over over and over over and over over and over over and over over and over over and over over and over over and over over and over over and over over and over over and over over and over over and over over and over over and over over and over over and over over and over over and over over and over over and over over and over over and over over and over over and over over and over over and over over and over over and over over and over over and over over and over over and over over and over over and over.
As their eyes met they saw the truth in each other's existence.
The First Murdered was branded across his skin, his sins made apparent as the abyss within the man stared back, yet that darkness was controlled. This was no monster, this was an immortal man like his wife who had lived for hundreds of years, someone who just had everything ripped from him. He saw a spear, and a raven haired woman lying in a pool of her own blood.
And Cain saw him in turn. Saw the eons of his engagement, saw the dance between good and evil, love shattered and a family lost their spirits defiled into parasites passed down the generations. Immortals, a curse just like the one cast upon him by the gods. Ozma is no god, and the Maidens are only a cruel reminder to that fact every second.
Third eyes closed, they stared emerald into obsidian before the tension snapped like razor wire, "I come bearing gifts."
A smile grew as Ozpin took in the bottle of red liquid, it was something magical. Something that Ozpin had never seen before and with very little frame of reference he could only guess.
"A healing potion?" Silver hair flipped as he turned his head down to the bottle. That was magic too, sand summoned from a nearby bank and flash forged into a gorgeously ornate glass bottle. It was like a spun rose twisting up and reflecting the light until you saw the stem. At the tip of the stem sat an inverted cross that could be twisted to open.
Ozpin silently marveled at the craftsmanship, he could have done that with earth, but not glass. Glass was much harder to manipulate than dirt after all. Ozpin could see small starbursts of the finely controlled sand grains shifting clicking into place like some celestial puzzle.
Cain brightened at the topic, this seemed to be something he held great pride in. Ozpin could tell why, this was a masterwork, and the liquid seemed to thrum with the vitality of a forest. Crimson, maybe blood but if it was stolen life force it would "taste" more coppery, it seemed almost willingly given. As if the beings sacrificed knew they were being transformed into some new superior state of existence.
Trees he surmised, and glanced out the window deadpan as he saw a train from a random point in the forest. Cain rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, "It's the Elixir of Life,"
Ozma raised an eyebrow at the grand name, "That sounds Powerful." Capital letter intended. Cain received it, and smiled, "Indeed!"
Ozpin sipped his tea.
"Biological immortality in a bottle! It can even raise the dead."
Ozpin spat his tea out, and stared at the bottle with naked greed. Silently he waved his hand a tenth of a tenth of a tenth of a tenth of his total magical reserves used to disperse the liquid.
Ozma silently weighed his options and rose with a smile, "There is something I need to show you, please follow me."
He turned to the giant golden beaver statue in the corner of his room, and tickled its belly. The beaver opened its jaw wide and swallowed Ozpin whole, he flew down the pipe, catching himself with a roll.
He still got it.
—