Broken sword
Funny how the blood of the innocent can't be washed no matter how much you try. For a man kneeling in salty water for the last few hours trying to desperately wash the blood that was not there that seemed like a nightmare.
Jaune dipped his abused hands once again in the sea feeling the sting of salt in his abused hands. Hours of furiously rubbing them broke his skin and how his blood tainted his hands.
One could say that a fall through the absolute darkness and then waking up in tropical paradise would make him question why? How? When?
Yet that was not what plaguing his mind. No something that would stay with him till the end of his life was now lodged in his brain.
Penny.
The sweet, innocent, and simple soul that wanted nothing more than to protect those that could not protect themselves. A true HERO that went as far as to lay down her life in the moment of need.
A sob escaped Jaune's throat as he grit his teeth. He Jaune Arc, heir or the ancient and esteemed Arc lineage of Heroes had killed an innocent.
Broken Crocea Mors another victim of his, laying down abandoned at the shore. Witnessing his futile efforts to wash away his shame.
Jaune Arc was no hero.
He wasn't even an Arc for someone like him could not be of the same blood as the rest of the Arcs.
"I failed you all" He spoke to no one in particular as due to exhaustion his hands fell limply to his sides as he kneeled in water.
He once had a dream. A dream to become a Huntsman like his ancestors. To wage war against Grimm and save people. To become somebody his family would be proud of…
A bitter laugh escaped his throat at the naïve and immature notion he had. He was a failure that wrapped himself in delusion acting as his safety blanked from the harsh reality. That kept tearing it bit by bit.
Pyrrha,
There went his innocence and naivety,
Weiss,
There went his stupidity and brazenness,
Penny,
There went his heart…
All the people of Atlas died because he was too weak all those months ago to cut Cinder's head off. At the thought of the crimson Huntress, his blood started to boil in a rage so strong he felt like,
Burning
If his mind was a bit clearer he would notice the waves picking up in strength with the crystal blue sky growing dark with clouds.
Yet as soon as the anger came it went replaced by utter hopelessness. Two times he clashed with Cinder and two times he was defeated without much effort.
He was weak, so pathetically weak that an enemy who was exhausted from battling still bested him with ease.
Yet he still lived. Better people died while he kept on living, holding to the life he did not deserve to have. All these efforts all his training ultimately never lead to anything. No matter how much he struggled, how much he put himself through the hell he always lost in the end.
Jaune felt fresh tears slide down his cheeks as he gazed into an endless ocean feeling like the last ounces of himself shattered.
He was no knight in shining armour. No saviour or protector of the weak.
"What am I?"
No sooner did the words leave his mouth, Jaune felt a presence behind him. In one fluid motion, he stood up spinning around. He saw the figure standing at the shore holding his broken sword, yet his mind could not process what he was seeing as shook overcame his sense at the sight. The voice was stuck in his throat as violented shivers when all over his body.
"Hello again"
Then Jaune's world began to burn.