Mortals had a hard lot in life.
Susceptible to death, their very existence since birth was dedicated to violence. To kill, maim, and battle for the very air they breathed. Like everything else, they had thus developed methods of killing, strategizing warfare, and concocting devious trappings to take away the risk of direct involvement.
So what did this mean to a being that lacked all of the above?
Swatting away my brother's sword, for what felt like the hundredth time, provided me with the answer. As I watched him still, his throat sitting at the mercy of Pale Bloom abandoned by purpose, I once more pulled away, bidding he take up sword in hand anew.
"You're improving." And he was, although my tone could be perceived as insulting. But he knew better, wrapping fingers around the shaft of my stolen power's replica, a moment of judgement, sealed inside an ornate toothpick when compared to the edge of my own blade. Separating again, we charged.
Our first introduction into this bout passed exactly as one might predict when witnessing a master unleashing all tricks of the trade upon a blindsided bystander. He may have been the lord of creation and light, but that flowed against the river he'd willingly swam through. Ruby's memories, at least, ensured he knew the fundamentals. Truthfully speaking, my brother might be considered a master should he duel the common professionals across Remnant's surfaces.
Unfortunately, his opponent was me, and I contained not only the repeated lifetimes of Ruby Rose, but also our son, who unlike her never knew how many lives he'd led. Fighting as a mortal does… I found it quite enjoyable; rough, but bloated with satisfaction.
My once grandiose rage sizzled, blowing out completely after I'd shattered his expectations, humiliated him, and restarted our duel over and over and over. As declared, we kept to mortal limitations, speeds unaltered by magic of any type. Yes, the Humans and Faunus themselves used pinches of magic in the forms of semblances and Dust, but we could not mimic that level of restraint accurately, and so forbade it.
Knocking his sword away again, he finally broke our stalemate - I was winning, but in lieu of a fair fight, I wouldn't count any loss until he could match me.
"I concede." He dropped his shoulders, weapon punting to his feet, absorbed into the clear liquid below. The finality echoed off of nothing but his own subconscious demand.
"I thought you weren't giving up?" Knowing my brother wasn't one to easily cast off his beliefs and proclamations, his strange choice - of which he'd waited endless amounts of forgotten millennia - gave me pause. His shaking head curled my brow.
"I'm not." In a show of our godhood for the first time since disturbing this forgotten sea, a bloom of roots sprouted up from underneath, weaving into an ornate, yet simple, throne. Remembering his previous efforts over our time experimenting with seeding the circle of life and death itself, this feat proved relatively tame. His posture lax, he droned out, "I'm merely changing the focus of my interest, shifting obsession along a different, arguably more sensible route."
"Even if it leaves Remnant corrupt and imperfect?" I copied his action, strolling up and darkening still water which lifted to mimic his own, but daring not to soak a single inch of my dress.
"As you've made clear: Remnant has become its own." His face, crumbling under the weight of incompatibility, still maintained the ability to expose a deeper disappointment and self-reflection. "And the more I stroll through my vessel's memories, the deeper I prod to absorb her skills in violence and war, the more I feel my initial purpose, my place in existence, leave me. I am teetering swiftly from balance, falling into your sphere of change."
"I'd argue you're doing the exact opposite." My opinion pulled from him soft wonder, one discarding lifetimes of torture. Yes, he may have spent eons in agony, but compared to the infinity of our childhood - which itself could not accurately portray our evolution into learning - his imprisonment stood more akin to a single minute; certainly not enough to hold a true and divine grudge, nor evoke any real wrath besides the spontaneous. Even I must admit, my anger, while calculating, had left the second I got what I wanted.
Looking back I see nothing but petty bickering; but I regretted it none, and I knew he felt the same.
"I am light, not dark."
"And, therefore, you are already swamped; oversaturated in one and one alone. Hardly balanced, if you were to seek counsel from me." While I have never questioned my own imbalance, he himself assumed the flawed illusion of perfection. I would correct him here. "To obtain true balance, one must handle adept knowledge and practice of all powers. Though it is tolerable to prefer any given choice, it must never overshadow the others if you wish to claim yourself a practitioner of union. Dear brother: we have lacked balance since the day we separated, after leaving behind this world for the very first time."
"Then why does our creation not represent that?" he asked, once more honest in his curiosity. His fingers, tapping impatiently at their wooden rests, cracked the more actions they performed; his vessel had begun to finally die, caving under his influence. "After everything we've put in to keep Remnant alive and healthy, back before the betrayal, why is it so… so…?"
"Apathetic?" I suggested, stirring up a frustrated hum. I pitied him, not for his sake, but for my own. I once spent so long wondering why all the mortals flocked to him, and only now when I have their chosen lord at my mercy am I able to see the pointlessness of both my sense of betrayal, and said flock. "Have faith when I say, I can't even begin to unravel that particular spool. Maybe they don't want or seek balance because it itself is a lie you're convinced is inevitable."
Equilibrium, according to mortal definition, was the natural state of being in which any given environment or individual body sought to maintain a balance between all the inner workings of the field. For ecosystems, it meant a steady supply of predator and prey who would inadvertently supply and maintain one another. For bodies, it was the internal steadiness which kept them functioning and tame. But the one point never discussed openly was how fleeting each argument's examples behaved.
Yes, ecosystems would eventually return to their balanced state, but for that to happen, the prey would have to thin so much that the predators began to starve; this allowed the prey to thrive and surplus, drawing more predators until culled again. Yes, bodies worked to keep their internal mechanisms balanced, but they constantly swayed and thrived every which way, even breaking certain systems to improve itself; such as with muscles over-repairing every little injury.
For all the "balance" so apparent in life of all kinds, a surplus of imbalance sacrificed the former and benefited because of it. How quaint; the art of balance needed its opposite to even exist.
My brother is order, and I am chaos; he is balance, and I am imbalance. For either of us to thrive, we must constantly ricochet the ball between the two of us. But being as competitive as always - even if he didn't want to show it - the times of which we held the point could vary; eventually becoming equal, but only because our game never ended. We are gods, forever eternal until existence itself grows tired. And from my experience, reality - all that will ever exist - has only begun taking its first wobbly steps.
"If that were true..." Understanding swallowed up his face, retching away any hope for late fatherhood over Remnant he may have been holding on to. "Then there's nothing left for us here. It appears my experiments lay elsewhere, ready to be born."
"I'd say so."
He looked over at me, fatigue finally having settled in.
"Will you be joining me in my endeavors?"
"Really?" I teased curiously. "You ask me now, after all of this?"
"I do."
Sighing, I stood, as did he. Our seats melted back into the shin-height ocean. I reached out, placing a steady hand over his chest. His body gave way, scattering into tendrils of black and wriggling up my arm. I released him, stepping back and admiring his true form momentarily, before spinning and casting out that same hand ahead of us. My own form joined his, breaking down into pure incalculable energy, leaving us both as we were during our time walking atop Remnant.
I'd miss my Human look, but in a new world we would have no need for ties to this one. Our departure would herald an end not only to the twin curses plaguing both Ozma and Salem, but it would also limit the relics' powers; not abolishing their use entirely, but severely weakening their potential... in terms of what they once were, anyway. Atlas, that flying city, would probably stay afloat, but Ruby's divinity-altering wish for time travel to become possible - which the crown enforced via its infinite reconstruction routine - would finally die, resetting the status quo in terms of universal law.
I would join my brother, as he predicted, but not because of anything emotional like hate or love - although I appreciated my new understanding of both - but simply out of curiosity. Overall, while watching the mess of dismissed darkness and light of which we once called ours, I couldn't help but point out his ever-present demanding attitude.
"Even now, you're still so woefully brazen."
"I prefer 'direct' when regarding decisions like these."
"I can still leave you."
"You can, but you won't. While I may have fallen into a new realization, now able to see and acknowledge my previous failings regarding this test, you have remained the same."
"How so?"
"Your curiosity remains boundless, never ending and starved, just as your first children who walk the surface below."
He got me there; I couldn't miss any surprises he had in store for us. And, should I get the chance to inject my own influence, then that's fine too.
And so, with reserved excitement at prospects of forging a new strand of life, I waited eagerly for our successor to arise. Seeing the newformed body, and knowing my son within would come into his own, I settled back down.
Vermillion Rose; a name now better fitting his new physical incarnation.
.
.
Why am I alive?
While I struggled to find the answer, my body wretched from the sudden intake of fluid into my lungs. However, I did not cough, only rip myself from the tomb that was the ankle-high waters I'd become more than familiar with. Unlike many times before, the sky reflected bright blues, cloudless and pure; filled with light, but lacking a definitive source.
And in the reflection below me, of which I reached to touch, peered Ruby Rose... Or so I presumed, before I remembered who looked down upon the waters and reached for the animated tapestry.
My outfit had vanished, leaving me exposed to the lack of elements, save the beachless lake incapable of drowning me. A near perfect copy of Ruby blinked in time with me, twisting and feeling her face as did I. But our hands weren't so dainty, and while our chest matched her original size, our overall shape appeared to have merged together as one; I could tell by the presence of my sword over the place of her sheath, it too sternly altered much like her pillows weighing my top.
Immediately, the urge to expel all contents within my stomach roared to life, not from the sight of my image, but a profound sense of impeccable sickness sprawling within my chest. My heart, constricted in arteries wrapping around and trying to strangle and tear their parent, robbed four hoarse coughs from my scratched up throat. Pain, searingly hot, erupted through my veins.
My toes curled; legs locked apart and crooked. Both Arms clenched inwards to grasp for a heart not shown. Fingers dug through invisible land, tearing in anguish for anything to grasp, although nothing came. My chest convulsed, the tips of its apples trying vainly to flee. The expanding heat below pulsed, rising, but overflowing with pressure, as if being pumped full for the express purpose of popping. All of me, every inch and digit, wished for nothing more than to burst into a bloody geyser.
And I did.
Shivering, any screams or cries I wished to impart on the world lost their volume when all the bloat spilled out, departing oddly enough through my back. The pitter patter of spraying fluid surrounded me whole following the burst, and only when I unclenched my eyes could I see the fast fading droplets of red shooting from my skin.
And the bizarre sextuple of wings spread out behind me; three on each side.
I identified them without issue, but their upsetting appearance provided a whole slew of emotions besides comfort. I suppose that was one positive to my reappearance as my own: my emotions were fully restored, and I could finally, silently weep over the darting memories popping into view sporadically. Whether that was a boon stood for debate, as when one provoked pleasure, another garnered pain; strangely seeming to cancel one another out.
Distracting myself from them in an attempt to yank back control, I studied my new appendages.
Befitting of the Grimm, these coal-boned wings were lined not in feathers, but webbed with crimson skin, which itself was laden with irises; all a blinding phantasmal silver and unblinking, but looking curiously to and fro. They radiated light, smothered with the darkness framing their semi-transparent home. With their birth, parts of my general aspect began to die.
First to go was the clarity of my skin, who marred itself with red pulsating veins; similar to those I had grown used to, but significantly brighter, almost white at points. My skin upheld their Humanity, but ashy and diluted. Sclera darkened again, into a fade of waxen gray. The crimson tips I inherited from birth bleached themselves from my raven locks, on par now with Salem's marble mane.
To be Human, or Grimm? Apparently my body could not decide.
"Welcome back, my son." My eyes whipped up, spotting the Dark Lord beside his brother. "How does the new form feel?"
"W-what happened," I croaked, a bare burn strumming my vocal chords. He chuckled, outright ignoring my vanishing discomfort. I couldn't describe it, but every second of pain departed for grander wilds, leaving me almost cozy with this new state.
"I won; that's what happened." Strolling over as a man, he bent down, lending me a hand. I, without too much hesitation, took it, and was pulled to my feet. The weight of my wings, though unbelievable as it sounds, seemingly matched with that of my chest; I bore experience with neither, but the stability they symbiotically shared allowed me to stand without too much issue. But even with this relief, I swallowed a spoon full of skepticism towards my birth father's claim.
"You... won?" I asked again, a little lost in all honesty. But with those words, everything rushed back in.
The flickering memories from before finally rushed the border, tearing into my consciousness and declaring it their kingdom.
I fell to my knees again by the barrage of senses. Life and death, love and loss; it seemed every experience I'd ever had decided it was their time to shine, crawling to the stage and bearing the weight of every onlooker. But not just my own, though multitudes there were with so many lifetimes repeating to different but similar outcomes. Alongside the initial sense of reliving all I'd ever witnessed, wave after wave of new untold tales piled on from my mother, Ruby Rose. Hundreds of failures and losses, followed by my birth. Then a period of lifetimes where she sought to save me, and then my second birth.
Over four seconds, I sat through it all, recounting and experiencing every miniscule detail of the encompassing eternity. It should have been suffering, had I not also taken her highest heights. General Ironwood's offering of valor, and the cheers of twin kingdoms entwined as one. Penny's uncertain kisses from a newborn biological body, sending lighting down my spine. Pyrrha's weary, thankful face as I held her newborn daughter. Qrow's cocky smile as he turned Roman from Cinder's side. All of these different little victories strewn about lifetimes forever lost, and yet I could taste the remnants of singed dust after a victory over Robyn's most pretentious theft, having tried to steal Amity Arena itself.
But perhaps the most heart-wrenching of all had to be Salem's sorrowful hug, before watching her stand with relics in hand and march off to silence the world.
Gasping for air, I retched. My mind, regrettably incapable of losing the endless conflict of feelings, latched on to every little moment posthaste. Every word, sound, flavor, and dream spilling over into a swell of unintended omnipresence.
"Strange, isn't it?" My father teased, shaking his head at my expense. "Many dream of power along the level of ours, but you can see first hand how it isn't all that great. To recall a mortal's life, as divinity, it to become all they are in whichever memory you choose to glance upon. Although, I guess in your case, you weren't so much choosing as you were forced to watch the reel."
It hit me then, and I reared on him incredulously.
"You m-made me a god?!"
"Someone has to take our place," the God Of Light stepped in, however he was stopped by his brother.
"Not quite so," the God Of Darkness countered, peering down upon me. "I just felt you were owed a reward for your efforts."
"You said I'd be gone," I reminded, standing unsteady, and fighting off the urge to fall again - sickness, as I would come to learn later on, meant nothing to me. "Erased of personality and memory."
"You were," he tossed back, dismissively. "And you could have stayed forgotten had I kept you a part of me... But I decided not to."
"Why?" I tried one final time, yearning to know the reason he'd abandoned my sacrifice. A mortal body would allow him to walk Remnant whenever he wished, so why did he give it up.
"Because I don't need it," his response flowed like it was the most obvious fact in the world. While this irritated me for a moment, it didn't last, and he gave a more concise explanation. "Remnant is neither my brother's, nor mine, to command. I care little for tampering with it now."
"She spent years... LIFETIMES! Fighting off your mistakes... And you're just... leaving?"
The rage of a man may be great, I can attest to that, but the wrath of a god stood stars above. Having seen it all, breathing the air and feeling the breeze, I had become a faucet of my mother. Ruby may have walked the path, but her efforts were shared in me, and to have them thrown away as yesterday's garbage riled more than a little fury.
"Yes," he said curtly, his voice firm, but playful. "She spent lifetimes fighting for a future she never should have had. Ruby Rose suffered through a torture of her own making, all because she wanted a chance for more. Tell me, my son: will you blame me for her decision."
My instincts salivated at the idea to answer yes, and to face the twins in a head-on battle... But my mind, my rationale, It knew better.
"No," I spat, grief-mixed hatred drawing poison tears down my cheeks. I stared back, defiant, and more than ready to hold them accountable in my own way should they test me. "But you are responsible for Salem, and thus the doom she heralded for all these lifetimes."
"Yes," the Dark Lord agreed pointedly. "My brother is responsible for that. And, as such, I have felled and humiliated him myself. His punishment is complete."
"One defeat isn't enough to absolve all the suffering his arrogance wrought," I proclaimed, a new despair salted in hopelessness flaring my nostrils.
"Oh, not at all!" He laughed, almost hearty. Soon, he settled down, expelling the crux of his argument. "But his punishment hasn't ended here. He will never again be allowed into Remnant, and neither will I. Hence why I brought you back."
"And not Mother?" I brought her up half because I believed she deserved to know her efforts weren't in vain, and half because I now wore her appearance partially. Unfortunately, one of my fears came to life, but in a palpable way.
"Your mother is living her life as Ruby Rose down on Remnant: the up and coming huntress who skipped two years and lives as a prodigy. Her memories, as you can guess, will not return if left to her own devices. Without the crown's foothold on the world being powerful enough to shatter it anymore, the lingering effects will be locked away forever. Perhaps deja vu will pop up from time to time, but she'll not recall her eons of battle without outside intervention."
"And this?" I laid my hands over my chest, accentuating the obvious. "What am I to make of it?"
"She was just as much a part of this as you were, but since her soul exists - now whole - on Remnant, I couldn't just revive her as I did you. But for the sake of honoring her memory, I've mixed her shell with yours, creating for you a divine body befitting of your new stature."
An eternal reminder of her suffering.
"My new stature..." I sat on the idea.
"As God Of Remnant," He proclaimed evenly; the idea sickened me no less than my awakening before. "Without us, I found it fitting that the true overseer of Remnant be one of her own, and what a better form than the one you wear now: a true representation of all it provides. Man and woman; mortal and immortal; darkness and light; creation and destruction. you are everything, and everything is you."
"Really?" I lifted a brow. "Quite the grand title for a pair of tits and some wings."
"For now maybe..." he handwaved away. "But given time, you'll find ways to leave your mark. And when Remnant permits, you may again walk her surface."
"And what's stopping me from doing so right now?" I questioned, getting a less jovial reply.
"While I've given you a new body, your ascension into godhood required more than a kiss and a rub. Remnant currently forsakes the divinity my brother and I possess, and to prepare you for this role, I had to allow both my own core essence, and that from my brother which seeped into Ruby's corpse, to remain a part of you; enhancing both to a degree. Remnant will not allow you back until our influence has washed away entirely, on the day our power fully becomes your own."
"What?" I didn't understand it at first... Or, maybe I simply didn't wish to admit it, given the implications.
"You are the master of both light and darkness, creation and destruction; a perfect mixture of both my brother and I." The God Of Darkness, lacking a face, still managed to express a semblance of guilt. "But even so, Remnant still calls the shots; for now, at least, until she accepts you as her child once more."
"Then... what am I supposed to do?" I... wanted an answer; yes, I wanted it.
"Whatever you wish. Don't worry about the stereotypical stuff like creating new laws or ruling and guiding the dead. The laws of the world present will uphold it until you are ready, and the systems of birth, death, and rebirth will commence without your hand. You must discover your powers and purpose on your own, as did we, because believe me, our help will only limit you; just look at how long it took us to grasp mortality and emotions." He stepped back, his following word a whisper. "All you can do for now is be patient and experiment. Your power will come naturally; just give it some time. Farewell~"
They vanished following the final word.
They were... gone; for good it seemed. Disappearing from the eyes of both myself and the world. No mentions of how I'd uncover my abilities, only that I would; no advice for what to, and not, to do. Instead, I'd been left to my own devices, free to try at my leisure, and perhaps discern a purpose for my evolution that I myself desired. My desires… My wants… Without mother's fate ruling over this realm, perhaps we could all follow our own sought after paths.
Was this the coveted "freedom" Remnant had lost? Was this truly a boon, or merely an excuse to allow at least some sense of accomplishment into my eternal, unbeating heart.
Mother's creation of fate had been for Remnant's benefit, but she became ensnared in it as well. Forever forced to waltz a fragile life, only to slip up in routine, and fall into a new one, her future unforeseen. But while I could ponder over whether her choices had mattered, none could attest that they led us into a new land; one free of meddling brother gods, and their lingering legacies.
All I could do now, instead of moan over whether any of this mattered at all, was linger on; endlessly trapped until Remnant decided I was allowed to return home. But then again, this was my home now, and within its empty expanse of steady day and patient sea, I reaped the reward of our combined labors.
Unwavering solitude, and a sense of longing for all that we had sacrificed.
.
.
No winds would blow their whistles; no birds could spread their wings.
No elders moan and cackle; no children spin in rings.
No women traded gossip and no men here to complain.
No wolves would ever howl and no sheep could stalk this plain.
I stood upright; unflinching. Regret? Perhaps with time.
Instead I ever wallow, ready to lose my mind.
Here I stand eternal in this place I now call home.
Ever marred with burden.
Forever all alone.
~Fin~
Author's note (Next Time: The Epilogue)
...
Well... we did it. This is it: the end of Beyond Destiny.
Forgive me if the ending poem is... more than a little rough; I literally have not written a genuine poem in years, but hopefully it does the job. V finally completed his journey, and now stands as Remnant's new god, entirely ignorant of what he should do - if anything.
Not a super uplifting ending, but at least a little hopeful.
Stick around for a little more though, because while this may be the end of Beyond Destiny proper, we still have an epilogue to run through, and it's an important one you probably want to see - hence why I mentioned it above. Granted, with the moon full and a few extra mentioned "quirks," you may want to tune in.
Anyway, I extend a grand congratulations and thanks to all of you who not only stuck around, but made it all the way to the end. It was a bumpy ride, littered with faults I know, but an ultimately enjoyable one... Reviewing died a bit ago on this story, so I can't really tell anyone's thoughts anymore.
Feel free to let me know whether this was worth it though, or if the story's length ruined any chances it had at being enjoyable.
One final chapter remains; just one more Friday to go. After that, I can finally tick this story as complete.
Until next time.