Frantic Hearts

Prologue

The door was open before he could knock.

"Oliver!" Clarion's golden eyes, identical to his own, widened, and she beamed, radiating joy from the ends of her feet to the tips of her blonde pigtails. It was like looking directly into the sun, and was every bit as unbearable. "I was expecting you days ago! You've really been out of practice, huh? But never mind that, you've come just in time, look what just arrived!"

Clarion grabbed for his palm and pressed something into it. Oliver pulled away, determined to set the course of the conversation and not get caught in his elder sister's flow.

Clarion took it in stride, slipping the mystery object back into a side pocket and bouncing off. "Have you had breakfast yet? I've just finished up, but I could scrounge something up for my baby brother," she called back, acting like she was in her living room and not some random abandoned inn he'd found her in.

"Clarion, where the fuck have you been?"

"Here." She hadn't even paused. "Is that a no to breakfast then?" She tilted her head, smiling like he'd told a joke. She looked more like a child then, in her baby blue cotton dress and flats, than a 38 year old woman. Oliver wanted to scream at her, make her act her age for once.

He didn't speak, refused to move from his position in front of the door. He'd spent enough damn time following her tracks. The inn led into a large open space, an area meant to seat the patrons of the inn and feed them comfortably. Oliver could watch her from here.

Clarion waited long seconds, then sighed. She smiled, more to herself than him. "Well it was going to come out eventually."

She made her way back to him, taking her time, moving some chairs that were still on tables to the ground as she walked. Oliver watched in silence, waiting for an explanation.

"It'd be real nice if you helped out a bit, you know?"

Oliver didn't move, still waiting. Clarion continued in the silence. It was a pretty heavy-handed attempt at stalling, but Oliver could be patient. He wouldn't rise to the bait. Clarion would find a way to dodge the question if he said or did anything, and she would run out of chairs eventually.

The first floor of the inn wasn't that big anyway, Oliver noticed, now that he had time to look. Just very bare. There was nothing on the walls, the only furniture were the tables and chairs Clarion was fiddling with, plain wood that blended into the room and added nothing to the atmosphere. There was a bar at the back of the room and a set of stairs that led up to bedrooms, he assumed, to the left, and a door to the right, but that was all the character the inn had. It was all very clean though, Oliver could still smell the artificial lemon of cleaning products in the air.

Clarion had reached the last chair while Oliver took in the inn. She turned it backwards, taking a seat. "You like it? I bought the place, cleaned it up. I started a guild, Oliver." She moved her arms in an all-encompassing gesture. "Welcome to Frantic Heart."

It was the last thing he'd expected. "What? No! You can't just disappear for a month and say that! You can't just start a guild without saying anything, Clarion!" Oliver slammed his fist into a nearby table, needing to emphasise his point on Clarion's ridiculousness somehow.

Clarion had the grace to look apologetic, but not enough to keep the smugness out of her tone. "I already have the certificate." Her eyes wandered to a picture frame he'd somehow missed, hanging on the wall behind the open bar. "I applied last month, the magic council signed it yesterday."

Clarion looked at him, eyes searching. She spoke with no little amount of pride. "I'm a guild master now."

Oliver was flabbergasted. "Are you crazy? What do you know about running a guild?"

Clarion looked at him with fond, laughing eyes, and was utterly perplexing for it. "We'll do fine."

"We?" Realisation hit him like a particularly slow train. Oliver looked at his palm and found a heart with several concentric hearts of interchanging black and white. A guild mark, he realised. The mystery object was a magic stamp tool.

"Oh, no, no, no –"

"We'll do fine!" Clarion's reassurance was as carefree as her laugh, like they were children again and moving into a new town, not starting up a damn magic guild on their own in their 30s.

Oliver grasped at straws, trying to find something that would get through to her. "This is what you're pouring your inheritance into? Dad would be rolling in his grave at how irresponsible you're being right now!"

Clarion laughed, shaking her head, apparently unfazed. "No, I'd say this is exactly what he would have wanted for me."

"You have zero experience! This is doomed to fail, don't you get it?"

Clarion waved him off. "If you're not going to eat breakfast, I have a job for you." She disappeared into the room to the right of the bar and came back a second later.

"At the very least, Frantic Heart won't fail because we didn't try." Clarion slapped a heavy stack of papers into his hands – which Oliver almost dropped – and shooed him out the door. "Now go hang these up around town, I'll stay here to greet the new members."

Clarion saluted him goodbye and unceremoniously shut the door, a test of the doorknob showed that she'd locked it. Oliver could see Clarion peeking out the window, to see if he'd left yet, he assumed.

Oliver marched up to the window, leaning forward and knocking hard on the glass when Clarion turned away and feigned obliviousness. "You know you can't expect that many members on day one! And stop with this 'we' business, you're taking this damned mark off me when I come back!"

Clarion smiled, and then pulled the blinds down.

"You know this kind of immature behaviour just proves my point!" Oliver sighed, resting his forehead on the cool glass. He stayed for a while, half disbelieving his sister's audacity and half knowing that yes, this was exactly the sort of thing she'd pull.

The blinds didn't go all the way down, Oliver knew Clarion hadn't moved, he could see part of her shoe through the window. For the life of him he couldn't imagine the expression on her face. Was she actually happy with what just happened? Was she only know realising the task she'd taken on? Both where worrying in different ways.

He looked down at the posters in his hand.

New Guild 'Frantic Heart'!

Members Needed!

All Mages Welcome!

The stack was about two inches thick, all painstakingly hand drawn. From the words, to the guild mark, to the little doodle Clarion had done of herself in the box at the corner she'd titled 'About the Guild Master'.

Oliver remembered back to their childhood, back when Clarion was somewhat sane. She'd handmade every card she'd given out for birthdays and holidays, and pushed him to do the same. When he asked why, she'd said, "It's more personal this way, it lets people know we care."

Oliver groaned.

He'd drown in guilt if he didn't put these up now. As bad of an idea as this was it was obviously something Clarion wanted, something she cared about for whatever reason. The woman had practically raised him, what kind of person, never mind brother, would he be if he didn't support her now when she needed it?

'She planned this I know it.'

Cursing his softness and selfish, manipulative, elder sisters everywhere, Oliver walked, brainstorming busy places and mage hotspots.

Hey guys, thanks for reading :)

I've been seeing these types of stories pop up around here, and I want to join in on the fun! You can find the OC form on my profile.

As a warning, I'd like to say this won't be first come first serve, I'm going to be pretty picky about which OCs I pick.

For context this story is set in the future, far away from the plot of Fairy Tail, and I will be taking in about 10-15 OCs. (Anymore and I'd be biting off more than I can chew… I might be already…)

As a general rule characters will only be accepted through pms (not reviews), and I won't be accepting any slayers, characters related to canon characters, or Mary/Gary Sue types. (There are always exceptions to rules, but it's a bad idea to expect to be an exception!)

I will end up rejecting characters, please don't take it personally. It most likely won't be because your character is bad, but because your character just isn't right for my story.

I feel I should include that I am a new author and this is my first story. (Heh, I'm just as unprepared as Clarion…) This prologue is a sample of what my writing is like. There is a big risk this fic will end up abandoned, the updates will be slow, or the story will be generally shitty in quality… but I hope some of you will trust me with your characters, read along, and find some enjoyment in this anyway :)