Kill Them With Kindness - Chapter 1: The Beginning Of the End

EDIT 1: I actually went through and edited all the parts where the language and tone felt a bit off. There were some pieces that felt... alien ...in here. It isn't anything quantifiable as 'wrong', but rather, things that feel wrong. If you're new, great. If you aren't, then re-reading this isn't strictly necessary. You already know everything here, it just sounds leagues better. Also added a writing tip at the end for fun, and to relieve frustration with that particular common mistake.

A/N: I. AM. BACK!

Info on others stories at bottom, blah blah blah review, blah.

Important Stuff:

This contains multiple references throughout, try to spot them and review if you do!

Timeline is slightly fudged, I know this. Don't comment on that, it is stupid.

OH! And also, I am looking for a BETA writer, so PM if that's your schtick.

On with the show! Obviously, narrator is Salem. Duh. Background will be covered in later chapters, if you think its too shallow. I know it is, that is intentional.

"In the beginning, the only emotion man knew was fear. It stood unchallenged for attention. The only emotion; the only thing to exist within the minds of humanity. But then a challenger arose: Hope. From the two sprung every other emotion, every other thought. It was said by many, even myself at one point, that humanity's greatest strength was hope. But I, and they, were wrong. Hope twists the mind. It gives us only visions of a future to which we can strive for. Visions of the future, though, are only illusions. Hope, alone, gives visions of grandeur that rob us of everything: sanity, strength, will, and ultimately, life. No, hope is not the greatest strength of humanity. So I looked again and believed I knew the answer. It was Fear. The original. The first. Fear keeps them alive; fear pulls them back to reality. But that failed too. For Fear in its purity leads only to fools and cowards. It is only a balance of the two that can truly be said to be humanity's greatest strength."

Salem entered the castle with a young child in her arms, a silk cloth draped over his eyes, and his form still as stone. She held him with the air of a woman lost. Every drop of his blood that fell was another tear streaming down her face. None would challenge her love for the little thing.

"Humanity has rejected me. Everyone, everything rejected me. All except you."

A gash was torn across the blonde boy's throat, and blood marred his clothes. It was clear the child was dead. A dainty thing; like a bird whose wings had been so viciously cut. The gash was a mouth, begging for mercy; for a second chance.

"They would tear you away!"

Salem marched to the deepest depths of her castle carrying the boy, her son. Nothing could have injected such hatred into her soul as the sight of the boy. Had she not the forsaken powers of two long-gone gods, it would have been his end. As it was, for her selfish desire he would suffer an eternity of love. And such sweet suffering it would be. Immortality... what a cruel and cosmic joke.

"They see only cruelty and horror in you. But I see more! They are but specks of hope and fear, small candles with barely a flame. And yet you- oh you! -are so much more! If only I were so grossly incandescent as you, little sun of mine. Oh Jaune. If only they could see the beauty you possess. The potential. Those who gave creation to you- the fools -treated you like some toy with which to play. Your heart, so bright, to them it was but a puppet whose corded flesh-bound strings they would pull with their uncouth hands. All for themselves and their ego. Despite your pleas for love, they all but rebuked you. To beset you with such burdensome longing... What sin. I took you from that hell, and lit within you a light that now shines more luminous than the stars."

She dropped the dead form into a pool of sparkling waters, letting his 8 year old body soak in the beauty within that glistening stuff of gods. To take her curse. To take all of this that was her love. Magics were, always, duality in form. How much suffering would her love bring him? How much joy would other's pain bring him? Infinite, for he was now everlasting. And yet... Jaune Arc was nevermore.

"Even death will not steal you from my embrace. Take this gift- Take it! - oh son of mine. Be with me forever more. This pool is filled with the Water of Life. I may not have the powers of creation through right of birth… but through the Taking, the stealing of souls, I can wield it with impunity. Each soul contains a speck of creation, with which I can create one drop of this essence that cursed me. Over the hundreds of years I have waited, I made a fountain; a monument of my love. But I had no idea to what I would devote it… Until now. Bathe in this… be reborn. As my son."

She lifted his glowing form, the cut to his neck already healing, and brought him to another pool. It bubbled with viscous black liquid, reeking of fear and hate. Of destruction. The second curse for him to bear. How many laurels...

"Now, bathe within these waters and know my full plight. Take upon yourself the curse of destruction; for I know you shall overcome it as I have. Twist the greatest force of death and annihilation into the medium of your rebirth. Become as I. Become as Gods. Please... return to me..."

His form sank, and the destruction tried to wrench from him his life; to render him destroyed as all things would be within the dark taint's grasp. But it could not. It tried to snuff the flame of his love and hope, but this wave of dark could the sun. He was, for this one moment, beyond luminescence. But this dark did all it could do: it conformed. It twisted itself around his being, around his everything, and blackened it. No longer did he shine like the sun. Rather, he glowed like a neutron star whose core had chilled through the cosmic eons: a black orb glowing with heat. His halo of pain.

"Rise, child. For you have become more than human. You have been reborn, as I have, and given new purpose. I wished not to curse you with this; I wished to live only in peace with you. But I see now. For there to be any hope of peace, Ozma must die. This world needs a ruler. I failed before; through pride, naivete, and betrayal. Now… I see what must be done. A Kingdom of Peace can only be ruled through kindness. An eternal rule, only fueled with love. Love is where fear and hope inevitably meet. The balance. You have given me this, Jaune. Or rather... That is the name of a helpless and hurt thing. Jaune Arc is dead. He is.. gone. You… are my child. You… are more. What shall I call you? Oh, I know. An old poem told me this name. A name for a King of Kings. And a mockery of my former lover..."

The child opened his eyes, black pools with a center of blood-drop red, to see his mother standing above him with only adoration on her face. Never before had he known such joy and sorrow. Never before such pain and wonder.

"You have been reborn, little sun."

He was confused as to how he got here. Last he could recall was only a sliver of a memory. He was playing with the Beowulfe in the forest when… a huntsman asked for his mother's name. A good looking man, if a bit dark. Concerned looking. Grave looking. And so Jaune bravely told the name of his caregiver. He could only feel the ghost of pain left as the black-haired man cut open his throat.

"I… I died… momma! I died!"

Tears fell down his face as he told her, clinging to her. She was his rock. A constant source of love and hope; as he was to her. He clung to her as a tree does the earth. He would not let go.

.

.

"I want to… I want to k̸͕̲̙̩̱̫̦̱̏̈́͗͌͠͝ḯ̴̥̠̖̯͎̤̥̓̽̀͋̓̓̔̍͋l̷͎͉̗̹̗̔̅͋͐̅͋͘͜͝l̴͇͇͈͓̺̼̳̭̬̀̐̌̑̿̈́͘ him. D̴̨̗̤͓̄́̐̌͂Ę̷̭̿̐̐͛̃̓̃̈́̈́͋̕͝ͅS̵̢̢̢̞̤͖̝̗̟̰͈̗͗̀̋̂̓̽̈́́̉́̍͗͛̕͜͝͠Ṱ̸̢̛̦͖̣̗̯̬̹̃͆́̂̉̌̀̉̒̐́̈́̐̽̀͒̕R̷͚͔͊̍̒̅͌̇̕̕̚͝͝͝͝͝Õ̷̪͌̋́͌͘Y̵̧̪̠̠̻̺͉̭͕͙̮̫̽̾͗̋̓̓͑͑̍̉͋̆̈́̅̚̚̚̚͝͠ him."

.

Jaune didn't know what to do with these new emotions. He wanted to end the huntsman for betraying his oath to protect humanity. For being a murderer. Jaune's own death be damned; breaking the oath is what truly set the young immortal off. Who betrays their word for something so base as fear? Who ends the life of a child out of fear?

Ozma. But that was...

"I know my darling baby boy, I know. He must be taught a lesson. And you will educate him. But first, your name…"

His name? Why? No, wait. He knew why. His momma told him, while he was slee- d̷̛̘̳̦̬͛́̃̚ȩ̷͍̱̹͓̉̾͆̈́͠a̵̛̞̹̓̃̈̉d̶̾̀ͅ -ping. He has been reborn. No longer did the name of Arc befit him. He was not an Arc. He was not human. Beyond, that was what he was now. More.

"From now on, you shall be named my child in form, mind, and spirit forever... My little prince...

"Ozymandias."

"Humans. They treat their young like their tools to brake. So often. Forgetting that children need love; that children need nurturing. These two are examples of the highest caliber. Poor Willow, I know you are- or at least were, we haven't spoken in a while -a good soul. I am so sorry to take your little songbird. But children deserve to stretch their wings. And, oh! I am so sorry, proud hunter, to take your little Goddess of Victory, but children deserve to be carefree and beloved by those closest to them."

When she had first seen Pyrrha, training as if her short life depended on it, only to be scolded and harshly, briefly congratulated by her parents… Salem had been near enraged. But, as with her darling first child, she knew this could be corrected with love. A simple moving of stone, a shift of wind, and a safe lunge from a training instructor became a fatal stab through the heart. Her funeral had come and gone, her parents mourning the death of 'their little prodigy.'

"Even then, they think of only her skill and usefulness. They do not deserve the title 'parents.' They are simply fools. But I can give this empty form life. Love."

Salem had stolen away the corpse after all was said and done, and through the same path as Jaune, she was reborn. The two now played with each other, clashing wooden sticks like swords and spears in a mockery of a duel. A pan from the kitchens served as Ozymandias' shield, and a long limb torn from a Bristlecone Pine served as Pyrrha's spear as the two pale kids fought with everything they had.

"Training is not a foolish thing; it's the method of training that is foolish. Children can train and have fun. Live life and achieve dreams. And then, when they find something they are interested in…"

Pyrrha had the upper hand, striking down at Jaune as he blocked with his shield, but this wasn't to last. Jaune unleashed a torrent of magic out at her, air forcing her back onto her butt. She wasn't upset at all, though. In fact, she was in awe. Salem walked over as she saw this, giving a flashy show of magic to her newest child, who was mesmerized by it.

"They latch on. And the training, no matter how hard, becomes the fun. They choose to train; to better themselves. This is how children learn. It becomes how children show their love."

Weiss had been a different tale. When Salem, or her alter-ego Sarah Majeste, had gone to visit the Schnees on a business meeting, she'd seen the young thing. Cooped up in a cage, alone to never be free. A maiden in a tower…

For Salem, this would not stand. And so, a tragedy occurred when a long-time servant of the household had snapped, revealing herself to be a Faunus and a White-Fang member. With one quick slit, her cat-like claws had beheaded the young Schnee heiress. Willow had been distraught, but that is what one gets for being a lousy parent. Weiss would be better loved elsewhere. It did reinforce old hatred of Faunus in them… which could lead to the collection of even more children. Not that Salem minded! No, she'd gladly take them in now! In fact, she wanted more and more! More meant she'd always have loyal and well-deserving Lords and Ladies to rule over her lands. With Ozymandias, her (by the point in time this would come) once little prince Jaune, as the king. As it should be. Weiss had been scared when she was brought back, but the newfound freedom and the siblings she had in Jaune and Pyrrha eventually brought her out of her shell. And with her cage gone, she soared and sang such wonderful song. This was how it was meant to be.

"Children are gifts."

Truly they were. Again and again she took them in, loving them with all her corrupted heart. They were her beacons of hope and fear; creation and destruction as one. Rebirth. That is what they would bring forth: a rebirth of the world. As she gained more and more, the once lonely dinner table filled and filled, slowly needing to be extended as more joined her. Servants were hired, instructors brought in. Builders, toymakers, guru after guru was brought with no expense spared.

And all were promptly made to never speak of what they saw. She wanted this secret to be kept. Kept to the grave. The world's grave. Her many children were her joys. Those who she saved in the beginning had bloomed into beautiful little wicked, gnarled blossoms. The Pale Knight, the Pyrrhic Victory, the Ice Princess, the Revolutionary, the Bull, the Burnt, the Broken Gem, and more. But her two favourite- after Jaune-dearest, of course -were the Onyx Eyed Warrior and her own Little Moon Dragon. Oh, how she delighted in taking them. Delighted, and raged. Their fool of a father, their fool of a mother, and that monster known as Ozpin led to their deaths.

"To let such an asset go… to let a silver-eyed warrior die. And then, for the father, once your wife and long time partner die, to let your child run to the wilderness, and let only your other child give chase... Fools. Lousy, worthless parents undeserving of such treasures. But death… death is not the deserved end for them. If not for me, they would be rotting by now. You should be thankful, but, of course, your blind faith in my traitorous ex-lover is as powerful as any fool's. You'd hate me- nay! You'd blame me. But it is Ozpin and his false, flimsy hope that killed your family. Such poor choices… such bad luck. When hope fails..."

Ruby had run off at the news of her mother's death, hoping to get away from the pain as Yang gave chase. Ruby and Yang had died at the hands of an oddly large grouping of Grimm. A coincidence. Salem had never meant for their deaths to occur. It just goes to show the powers of fate. They were gone in ten minutes. Sliced to ribbons, easily, if not for Salem's intervention. However, death, as Salem vowed, was not the end.

Yang transitioned smoothly, enraged by what Salem had told her: the truth. Enraged at her father's actions- or rather, lack thereof. Fueled by the hate in the essence of destruction that flowed through her veins now. Ruby had been a point of intrigue: what would happen to those silver eyes? As it turned out, when Ruby was reborn from the Pool of Destruction, her eyes had become tainted forever. No longer did they shine silver, and they didn't reflect sweet pupils of blood-drop red as all the others. No. Her eyes were pure pits of Dark. Empty eternities that shattered auras with a glare. Onyx Eyes, Salem dubbed them.

"My children, so sweet. Love swells within this heart, mixing with hate. Perfectly balanced, as all things should be. Love and hate; War and Peace; Death and Life; Destruction and Creation. I see what the Brothers Grimm had seen all those eons ago. Balance is needed, and since they are gone, I will bring it myself. For I am better than they."

In the end, she would. Balance. It would be her greatest gift to the world, and her greatest insult to the gods: to best them at what they did best. She would show the gods that she was better than they ever were. That she, and not them, could create an eternally balanced world. And in the meantime, she would love and be loved. Her children, her proteges. Everyday she woke to the goal of making her children believe it was better than the last. Teaching, guiding, sculpting them into the perfect little lords and ladies for her eternal kingdom. And at the center was Jaune. The first one. He had just recently moved out of her room and into his own, twelve years of age being too old to sleep with mommy. Every night, that is. He still sometimes slept with her. She was his mother, after all. The one who saved him, the one to which he'd give his all. His siblings filled his brilliant soul to the brim; that dark sun burning with twisted passion at each new member added to his family. Dark desires of eternal peace through his iron rule filled his dreams. He was simply perfect, wasn't he?

"Ozpin knows not what he faces. Ne'er again, shall he find victory. He is but a fool. When he looked at me, just as when Juliane Arc looked at Jaune, he saw only a failure. He saw what I was, and he believed despite my unending love for our children that I was capable only of hatred. He believed the words of the two gods over mine. Two gods who punished me for my devotion to him. I admit that I was wrong back then. I am to blame for much, and shall be to blame for much more. But at least I have tempered myself. Fear and hope, in unity and balance. I did so on my own, when I could've done so much faster with his help. I spent so long trying to snuff out hope, only to realise that it wasn't hope that needed extinguishing, but rather, his own style of it. The twisted hope that preyed on others. It was time for the end. For his end. For peace."

Time moved along, and Salem, as always, moved with it. Around her, as a gift and as a disguise for her children, she forged a town from which they could come from. A 'home' of sorts. A way to hide their origins. And with that town, an estate was built. All of this under the name Sarah Majeste, a kindhearted woman who wished to see others flourish with her wealth. Afterall, to an immortal nigh-on goddess… what was money? Well, it was a way to please her children. Happiness could not be bought; but that which brings happiness could be. Her children lived in comfort, but not luxury. They would not be weak and pampered. No, they would grow to be strong and independent.

And part of that process would be to go out and become official huntsmen. She loved the idea of Ozpin and his creations training his own end.

Peace and happiness would strike him like a bullet to the back.

In order to do this, she needed a cover for them. The town she built acted as such. Each person in the town came from around the world. From settlements that failed, the poor, the downtrodden, and groups seeking acceptance. It built her a town of nearly 7,000. All worshiped her as their goddess. Rightfully so. Her children were revered as gods. Also rightfully so. Those in her town served as cover. Already, three years of graduates from the local training academy had gone on to serve in the Huntsmen Academies around the nations.

But now, it was time for her children to take flight…

"YOU! What's your name, if anyone asks?" Salem shouted as she pointed to Jaune.

He scrambled, clearly surprised by the sudden shift in tone.

"Ozymandias Jaune Majeste." He replied smoothly nonetheless, "But you can call me Jaune. Smooth. Short. Rolls off the tongue…"

"And ladies love it!" Yang added in, smiling at him while he tried to hide his blush.

Everyone gathered were in their 'human' forms. Well, less forms and more disguises. There was no difference between them other than appearance and what medical tests would result in. All due to magic, obviously.

"Yes! Yang, that's perfect! Now, what is your name?"

Yang looked a bit embarrassed as she tried to quickly remember it.

"Uhh…" The platinum blond responded, "Ophelia Salene Majeste. "

"Cover story?" Her mother continued.

She was blushing and wiggling under the attention as she scratched the back of her head in a sheepish manner.

"I'm Ozy's twin sister. We were born before Weiss' and Ruby's characters. We have complimentary semb-"

"Good Enough! Ruby, what about you?"

The more sandy platinum blonde quickly looked up at her mother when called to. Her smile was eager, and her eyes bore into her mother's skull.

"I'm Onyx Saphiria Majeste! I'm the youngest of the group! I love weapons, and my siblings. I am named after my onyx eyes."

"Good good good! Now, finally, Weiss…"

The last one of the group, Weiss, smiled serenely back at her mother, giggling in excitement.

"My name is Willow. I am named after 'your good friend.' I am the middle child. I love singing and dancing. My preferred weapon is the rapier."

Salem stood back and looked down at her children proudly. Well, she didn't really look down on them now, seeing as they were all grown up, but it still felt that way. Since she cheated and used her floating ability. She couldn't believe how close her plans were to coming to fruition. So close…

"Good. Now… hey! Wait, where's Pyrrha?"

"Right here!" A shout came from up the stairs as Pyrrha came rushing down them in her huntsmen get-up, "I am so so so so so so sorry! I got up late! I was-"

Salem sighed, but still smiled.

"It's alright. Now, tell me your alter ego."

Pyrrha nodded.

"I am Naenia Dio. Long time friend of yours and Jaune's. Semblance is 'gravity control' a.k.a magic." She said, giving a bit of flair to the end by making her sword float.

Salem chuckled at how similar she sounded to Jaune. Especially the end of her description. It was a very 'Jaune-esque' thing to do. He had written the same emphasis on magic on his report when he handed it to her the previous night. Both had always been enticed by magic. In fact, they had always been fascinated with nearly the same things. Such fun to see how well those two got on...

"You're all packed?"

She received a set of nods.

"Well then, best if you get off. I have all your siblings to deal with." She said with a loving smile, "And remember your cover stories! Especially you, Yang!"

For now, they were off... to Beacon Academy.

A/N:

Hoooooooo wow. This story comes from a request by someone who's name I refuse to mention because they don't deserve attention. Lame ass bugged me for a while to do this. Well, not this but a RWBY fic. I get why, since I am basically the corrupted!hero x villainess guy... and Salem fits my bill quite nicely.

But still! Anyway, I got around to researching and watching RWBY. Jesus this took more effort than you probably think. I am nowhere near caught up. But... I had this idea, so...

I tried to depict Salem in a matter of someone who always believes they are right in their actions. But, still give her enough reasoning to make her not seem totally evil so you'll route for her and her kiddos.

Next Chapter: Initiation of The End. Yes, this stories chapters will follow a pattern of being _ of the End.

So, for anyone who is waiting on other stories: I am halfway through Chapter 1 of a Class 1-V full rewrite. And, if I dare say so myself, it's pretty damn good so far. Probably one of my best works.

I am also mostly done with the first chapter of OnePiece: Son of Im.

Oh, and I am almost finished with Chapter 1 of my Eveningshade rewrite. Stop spamming flamers or PMs of the Lemon. It was intentionally stupid. I will continue to delete your Guest Review Flames.

On that note, have a good day.

And STAY SAFE OUT THERE, KID!

Writing Tip of the Day: Whether and Rather

Whether is used to show there are multiple possibilities:

"Whether we wanted it or not, we've stepped into war."

Rather is used to show that one possibility was chosen or is preferred, despite another being available. It is commonly used in a contradiction:

"He didn't love her. Rather, he sought to control her."

Think of them as: Whether would be used before the outcome is shown, Rather is used afterwards.

"Whether through speech or through force, I will succeed."

Vs

"Rather than talk, the king decided force was necessary."

Rather can be used as an adverb, and has a similar meaning to 'Prefer', but with a more negative connotation.

"I would rather die."

or

"He would rather it be vanilla."

I see these two mistaken a whole lot, especially with people new or inexperienced with written English, but it can be very distracting to readers. It only takes a little focus to fix this error as well, so that's why I'm putting this here.

That is all for today! Good luck! Also, should I continue with this section? Review or PM