The Zeneth Of The Blood - a PSL for Zeneth messing up Black Jewels canon in all the best ways

[chicklet]

Warning first off for massive spoilers for all things Culdcept and all things Black Jewels. Because that's the easy warning.

As for the other warnings: Yes. All the warnings. Seriously, if something might trigger you, there is a chance it is in here. While we as the players will be careful of each other's known triggers, if you are reading this be warned. If you know Black Jewels at all you know that Jaenelle is all the trigger warnings. As this is during the Briarwood part of her life. As for Zeneth... yeah all the combat and violence are potentially, but... I mean, there will be Warlord Princes. There will be blood. And Blood.

You have been warned. 

MWAH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA

Ha.

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[zeneth]

It hadn't been too long since the world of Prasim had been saved from the brink of death. Allen, the one responsible for doing so, had already been offered by Culdra to become a new chief god...

...Zeneth knew that it wouldn't be too long before the cycle of world creation would begin anew. And he felt bitter.

It wasn't often a Cepter treated Zeneth in a way that wasn't indifference at best and hatred at worst. Even though Allen was blunt, Allen was one of the very few Cepters that seemed to treat Zeneth like... a friend?

And yet, Zeneth knew that once Allen would become chief god, there would be no way to see him again. Just like how never saw his most respected rival again...

His eyes dulled the more he thought about it. His last battle with Allen could have been just that: the last. ...and Allen certainly won that time... Allen was already starting to fully surpass him. Just like the Chief Gods before.

He sighed and leaned up against the wall of a nearby building. This endless cycle hurt. Consciously, he wished the Champion from Soltaria had become a War God just like him. An eternal rival, one that he wouldn't have to worry about not being able to fight anymore.

...subconsciously, though... he wanted more than that. He wanted someone he could call a friend... and someone who wouldn't leave him behind like Najaran and possibly Allen...

[witch_child]

Hardly a moment passed after that thought before there was a sense of power, sharp then faded to the background, and a slight rustling behind him, of cloth. Something had shifted in the space around him, but it was hard to tell what exactly had. Or how.

[zeneth]

Zeneth's ears twitched as he heard the rustling, and his dragon eye had picked up on the sudden burst of power. He stood still and remained silent, though he had his hand near his book. Something was there, he knew, but he had to assess what it was.

After all, he could very well be dealing with a threat that was trying to get the drop on him...

[witch_child]

Whatever it was, was behind him, and still as well.

But after a moment a voice finally rose. Small, quiet. Hard to make out. Had someone actually spoken the word "Hello?" or had it been a whisper on the wind?

If it had been spoken it had been spoken cautiously and from behind him, but so quiet it could have been a fancy of imagination.

[zeneth]

He quickly turned around and stepped back, card in hand. A claymore, to be precise. He was clearly on edge, with a bit of shock present in his expression as whoever was nearby somehow got behind him.

...it was even more unnerving because what had been behind him was the very building he was leaning against.

"Who's there!?"

[witch_child]

The wall he had been leaned against was clear just then, even if it had not been so before. In fact there was now an opening beside him into the room he could now see. It was a fairly empty and bleak room, and probably not how it usually looked, with what seemed almost a night sky for walls and ceiling and ice for a floor. The only thing within the room was a figure at the far end of it, so covered in black cloth it was hard to tell of the form was human or not, and if human it could have been an adult sitting, a child standing or anything in between.

But whatever it was, something in those robes was alive, because something flinched back at his sharp reply.

A brittle feeling in the air suddenly. Like something precious about to break.

[zeneth]

Zeneth could immediately tell something very strange was happening right now. His immediate thought was to feel the area he was just leaning against; indeed his hand passed right through. much to his surprise as he almost fumbled forwards from doing so.

His gaze then moved onto the cloaked figure... and it seemed more scared of him than he was of it. He put his card away for now, trusting his instincts that, whatever this figure was, it had no intentions of harming him.

"...I'm going to repeat myself. Who are you?"

His tone wasn't as sharp this time, though a bit of cautiousness was leaking through.

[witch_child]

A hesitation and then the figure responded. "You.. wanted a friend." The voice, now that it could be heard clearly, was both female and young. Like prepreteens young. "I heard you.." almost a whisper.

[zeneth]

Zeneth fell silent, being temporarily frozen from the sheer amount of shock he was experiencing. It took a full minute before he could respond... and with that, he instinctively went defensive.

"...you're crazy, kid. Wanting to befriend a War God, someone who is dangerous enough to kill someone even on total accident!? I may be able to feel your power, but are you even strong enough to handle even a friendly fight!? I'm sorry, kid, but it feels like I'd accidentally break you without even lifting a finger!"

He was clutching his chest; the child-like figure could perhaps feel the pain in his heart despite his defensiveness...

[witch_child]

Her head tilted under the cloak. "God?" she asked. "What's a god? Is it like a Warlord Prince? And why would friends fight?" She sounded so perplexed.

[zeneth]

"You don't even know what a god is!?"

He sounded just as perplexed as the cloaked figure in front of him. And whatever a Warlord Prince was... well... it did kind of sound like him, though? From what his Dragon Eye helped preserve... he was a prince at one point, right...?

"I guess I'm like a Warlord Prince? As for why why friends would fight... for many reasons. For fun. To test strength. To settle disagreements. Are you even a Cepter? I'd think a Cepter would know all of this..."

[witch_child]

"What's a Cepter?" she asked. "Is that some sort of ma..." she started to ask, walking forward, but a foot caught the edge of her cloak and she tipped forward, windmilling her arms.

[zeneth]

The red and black clad War God was finding himself even more perplexed. But then, it finally clicked why she would be this clueless despite the clear magical power she had.

"You not from this wo-WOAH!"

His thoughts cut off by the child-like figure toppling over, Zeneth dashed to her, his arms outstretched as he was ready to catch her. If she was as fragile and weak as he thought she was, the last thing she needed was to fall onto the ground and hurt herself...

[witch_child]

She fell into him, and as she did the hood fell back, and he could finally see her.

She was pale. Almost unhealthily so. Her blue eyes were a dull sky blue, but sunk under dark circles. Her face was all sharp angles that might be lovely when she grew into them but was mostly awkward on a child. Especially one so thin that her cheeks were almost hollow. And the hood fell back enough that he could see a hint of bruising on her neck. Her blond hair showed some sign of care though, being styled in huge sausage curls. Sadly they did not suit her at all. But they did show that someone at least put in some effort.

"Thank you," she said softly. "Maybe I should take off the cloak?" she added with a giggle.

[zeneth]

He tried his best not to squeeze her as he wrapped his arms around her, his arms being a little shaky from trying to be gentle. It felt like he was holding a porcelain doll in his arms...

The moment he gazed upon her face and noticed the bruising on her neck, his blood ran cold.

It was no wonder she felt weak. If it was a Cepter that was beaten up in battle, it would have been one thing. However, this seemed like an innocent kid that went through physical abuse and neglect.

"...Your neck... who hurt you!?"

A slight bit of a growl could be heard in his voice. Underneath his horror, a bit of anger was slipping through...

[witch_child]

She paled a bit further and pulled the collar of the cloak up a bit higher. "It's fine," she said quickly, starting to tremble some. "I'm fine. Really." She looked scared now.

[zeneth]

The anger faded and his expression softened, though Zeneth did feel awkward for scaring this kid. He made his embrace slightly more secure in response to the shivering.

"...there's no need to hide it. I already saw it. It would be like if I tried to hide my dragon eye now; there's no point. Anyway, sorry if I scared you, but you look awful. As in the kind of awful like you're physically unhealthy. THAT kind of awful."

He then looked at the girl straight into her eyes.

"I'm not mad at you. As far as I know, you didn't do anything wrong."

[witch_child]

She offered him a small timid smile. "Dragon eye?" she asked, fixating on that. She reached up a pale hand and touched his face around that eye with cool finger tips. Her sleeve fell back to show bad bruising on her wrists. "No wonder I liked your eye so much! It reminds me of my friend Lorn!" Her smile became brilliant at that point.

[zeneth]

Before he could react about the bruises, the area around his dragon eye had been suddenly touched, making him flinch and have all of his focus go to her touch. For the young girl, the skin around his eye felt a little rough, and was warm. Warmer than the average human body temperature at least.

As he processed the compliment, he blushed a bit.

"Um, thanks...? Wouldn't be here without it..."

[witch_child]

She beamed a summer sunshine bright smile at him. "Then I love it extra!" she said happily. Then she started squirming, trying to get free.