A/N: Well, it's been a while since I made one of these, but I do my best.
Hello folks, it's me, Azrael DarkWings, once again, back with another FanFiction. To whom it may concern, I'm now dropping my old White Dullahan story and rewriting it from the beginning. To be honest, I kinda lost my groove for the old one, and I also found myself unable to balance it properly.
This time around, I'm aiming to up my game, and also publish at least 2 chapters a month from now on.
On my profile, you'll find the new and improved OC Submission form, for those of you who want to send in your OCs both new and old, if you want to resubmit them. Please take note that the story this time starts still in X790, before the Tenroujima Team's return, but White Dullahan will have been founded in X780 this time around, allowing for a better developed feel for the guild. I have my guidelines on my profile, but also note, no god modding or using magics already featured in the manga or anime. Also note, Second Generation Dragon Slayers only, unless you can send me a VERY detailed and Exhaustively well written explanation of how and why.
That out of the way, Disclaimer time~! I own nothing of Fairy Tail nor do I have any connection to Hiro Mashima-Sensei. Please, enjoy.
Prologue: Night Battle
The midnight watch was the shortest straw that could be drawn, and tonight that duty fell on the shoulders of a young recruit who had joined the Endless Serpent mage guild only three weeks before. The young man was only eighteen years old, but the incentives of easy money and training his magic had enticed him to join. He knew next to nothing about the guild proper, but the recruiter had assured him that the Serpents were a guild with a history pushing a century, and were considered a fine, upstanding guild by the Council, accolades that some other guilds could not boast about.
"Still, guard duty in this weather?" the young man groused drearily as he tightened his dark green slicker around himself for protection from the elements, "Anyone outside in this weather'd have to be off their rocker."
"What'a you moanin' about, kid? This here weather's nothing a'tall compar'd ta some o the stuff I've seen out on de open sea," a rough, dirty looking senior member of the guild lisped to the soaking kid, "If'n ya can't take this lil ol' drizzle, you're sure in fo' a time in the days ta come," the younger boy gave his senior handler an even look as the wind picked up, sending a chill down his spine.
"Seriously?" the kid looked up at the imposing figure of the castle like building to their backs, "just what in Earthland's going on in there?" the older mage shook his head, his soking wet hair sticking to his temples.
"I dunno, kid, but if'n you know what's good fer ya, ya'd bett'r keep yar mouth-"
"Pardon me, gentlemen," a seductive voice suddenly inquired next to the two men, "but would you two mind please letting me share your space? I didn't expect the rain to come down this heavily," both men turned sharply, the elder's hands falling on the hilt of a short sword.
"Who are you?" the young recruit asked quickly, his words tumbling out of his mouth as he thought of them. Then out of the rain materialized a slender, feminine figure with raven black hair. Both men gulped in tandem as they looked over the stunning woman before them. Standing around 5'10", the woman's fair complexion stood out against her dark hair and offset he dark purple eyes. Her figure was wrapped in a soaking wet purple kimono that ended just past her elbows and fell three inches past her knees. Her feet were fitted with a pair of wooden geta sandals and a pair of two toed obi socks. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail that fell down to the middle of her back, giving her an appearance of incredible beauty.
"Just a woman wanting a bit of shelter from the rain, if that's alright," the woman said with a slight slur, as she suddenly slumped against the elder of the two men, giving him a blast of alcohol laced breath. The man smiled wolfishly and then slipped his left arm around her waist, pulling her next to his hip.
"Normally, I'd say no, love. But t'night, I thinks I'll make an accepti'n," he turned, supporting the drunken woman as he unbarred the door to let himself into the warehouse. With a quick, sharp nod of his head, he vanished into the building, closing the door behind him and the woman. Alone now in the rain, the younger man bolted the door again and then pressed himself deeper into the doorway, hoping to gain a little more warmth.
"You'd think that the members of such a long running guild would be more… Respectable. Wouldn't you?" he asked to himself.
"Yeah, you'd think," the young man spun around, but before he could do anything else his world went dark, "Right?" a man with medium length silver hair caught the falling young man and moved him carefully into a nearby alcove, out of the rain and out of sight of the door.
"Please tell me you held back, Tristan-kun," a pair of figures joined the silver haired youth momentarily, as the shorter of the two addressed the younger man. Tristan sighed and brushed his wet hair out of his eyes.
"Yes I held back, Orochi," Tristan gestured with a gloved hand towards the alcove, "the hex will wear off well after we've done our business here; with no side effects." The elder man sighed, his lined face growing softer.
"You know I dislike the usage of Dark Magics, they bring nothing but trouble on those who use them and those who they are cast upon," Orochi lightly laid his hand on the hilt of his sheathed katana for emphasis, "They are a like a blade without a handle, They can still be drawn; but they will hurt both sides if they are used." Tristan gave the 5'6" Orochi an even look, but then gave him a short, but respectful, nod.
"I understand, Orochi. But they're the only magics I can use, and right now, Ageha needs me as a magician, not as another swordsman," the younger man smiled at the shorter man, a twinkling in his eyes, "She's already got you for that," Orochi returned Tristan's grin, his own dark brown eyes showing an inner brilliance.
"At least we have squared that away now," the third man in the group spoke with a deep, rich baritone voice, "Now, Master, isn't it about time you opened that door for us?" The other two men's eyes widened sharply as the woman who had vanished into the warehouse opened the door, her dark purple eyes sparkling mischievously.
"Ara, I thought I'd erased my pretense completely this time around, Aslan," the 7' tall red head with arms as thick as young trees and the shoulders of an ox gave his team's Master a broad smile.
"You most certainly did, Master, but you must remember that I come from a place where one small lapse in perception can mean the difference between life and death," Ageha rubbed her forehead in response, groaning as she did so.
"I must be getting old; I'd forgotten," none of the men said a word in response, causing Ageha to fix them all with an evil glare, "I didn't expect anyone to say anything, so I'll say this too follow that up, let's go. We've got some snakes to crush."
"Roger that, Ageha," Tristan responded, as he, Orochi and Aslan followed Ageha into the warehouse. As they passed through the doorway, Tristan noticed the motionless body of the man who had allowed Ageha into the building, "Dead or alive?" he asked quietly, as the foursome entered into an area marked with a sign read, 'Tradesmen and Dealers Only.' Without turning around, Ageha answered the question in an off handed manner.
"Dead. Heart attack," Orochi sighed faintly, but none of them questioned Ageha's manner of handling 'hostiles' in the field. The team's job this time around was to prevent a black market operation being handled by the Endless Serpents Guild. As such, any and all people's met in this place, with the exception of the sole boy outside and any human merchandise recovered would more then likely be killed. The date, January 10th, X782. The port town of Hargeon lay to their current position's north and west, far enough away to be unnoticed by the average person, but difficult enough to support an armed raid again.
Enter the four members of the Guild White Dullahan, formed in February of X780, the tiny guild's record was to the public eye sparse and limited, but to those with the proper level of authority, they were a group that dealt with 'issues of a sensitive nature.' Garbage men, cleaners, they had once even been called bounty hunters. But at their core, the group acted on behalf of the Magic Council in exchange for certain favors and liberties, including a very rare 'right to engage other guilds as they see fit.'
"Because of last week's kidnapping spree in Hargeon and the surrounding area, we get called in like a group of dogs," Aslan muttered to himself darkly. Tristan patted the larger man on the arm with a friendly word.
"Still, with this, none of us have to spend our days in a prison cell or on some scientists table. Besides," the silver haired man gave Aslan a grin, "I get to have a place in this unknown world, Orochi doesn't have to be alone, Ageha can atone for her sins and you," he motioned towards Aslan's flaming red hair, "No longer have to carry the Crown of Guilt," the red head's shoulders relaxed slightly at his team mate's word.
"Thank you, Tristan," a feeble smile played around the edges of Aslan's mouth. Tristan grinned in return.
"You're very welcome."
The floor space of the warehouse's lowest level had been converted from another storage room into a massive stage that covered the entire length of the room and a third of its depth. The remaining two thirds of floor space had then been turned into a cross between a theater and a dinning hall, allowing the rich and influential members of the underworld to seat as they pleased while the auction and other events proceeded. Around a hundred people had turned out tonight, but they were only fronts for their benefactors, as the merchandise tonight had been of an extremely dangerous kind, in the sense that once again, they were selling illegal magical artifacts.
The proceedings had started three hours before, with the items revealed ranging from a variety of enchanted weapons to a particularly dangerous, and previously thought destroyed, magic tome. But now, the main event had finally been reached; and the star of tonight's show was about to be unveiled. "Just look at them, Tralark. This may seem like a small crowd tonight, but they've been meticulously selected from our records as the very best customers and most effective managers." An old man with a thick white mustache and a balding head of hair of the same color said to another, much younger man, causing a smile to spread across his handsome face.
"Thank you, Mr. Sullivan." His words were short and crisp, coming off with a refined air that made most men feel small. Tralark Travellion was a man of some twenty-three years old, with short cut black hair that framed a fair skinned face with a small nose and a firm chin. A beauty mark lay just below the corner of his left eye, which matched the right with an iris of bright orange. Tralark was clothed in a fashionable suit of black cloth with a simple design that easily draw attention away from him, contrasting his otherwise remarkable appearance. His body was neither a mass of muscles nor a pile of bones covered by skin, giving him an unremarkable, 6' build that could vanish into any crowd with ease.
"No, I must thank you, Sir," the older Sullivan bowed deeply at the waist, "for it is due to your most esteemed self that we have the jewel of tonight's show to reveal to our most influential benefactors." Tralark smiled smugly as the old man wrang his limited vocabulary in a vain effort to show his gratitude.
'A simpleton at best, but he does have connection to the Serpents, a very nice looking pawn,' Tralark thought to himself. Then he sensed a shifting in the tensions of the crowd beyond the stage lights, as all one hundred representatives took their seats and fell silent in the span of less then a second. "Sounds like the buyers are read, Mr. Sullivan. Shall we get this final act started?"
"Any idea how to handle this situation, Ageha?" Tristan's voice barely registered above a whisper, but Orochi and Aslan could also hear him, as they held back just within the shadows of the dinning hall.
"The Council wants us to take as many of the people here alive as possible, but I don't think any of those dusty relics realize just how big these operations can get." She cast a morose look over to her team mates, "I'm just glad that this is a small crowd. Usually they have at least three times this number." Aslan's teeth ground together at the thought of an even larger crowd, but before he could rise Orochi gently put his hand on the younger man's shoulder.
"That's why the Council allowed our group to be formed, Aslan-kun. So that things such as this could be stopped by a properly equipped force. That's what we Dullahans do, we judge those who cannot be judged by the laws of normal world." The large red head's anger remained, but instead of raging like a fire it calmed and grew deeper like an ocean.
"I hear you, Orochi-san. But still, I feel my old ways calling out for blood." Tristan grinned at Aslan's words, as a very dangerous idea came to his mind.
"Ageha, want to try a plan with a little more flare to it? This is, after all," he broadly motioned to the space around them, "a theater." A devilish gleam appeared in Ageha's eyes as Tristan outlined his plan, and within moments the four Dullahan's were on their way towards their positions, each of them holding radically different feelings in their hearts.
The first carried the desire to pay back a small potion of the debt a life time of evil had piled up.
The second hoped to find a place to rest from the storms of the world and a home to be a part of.
The third wished to end the world of pain hidden in the dark corners of the earth.
And the fourth wished for nothing more then to guide the other way along the path they had chosen to follow.
"Ladies and gentlemen! Tonight's final lot has come up, and even I must admit that the nature of our final performance is beyond compare to any of our other items this evening!" Sullivan trumpeted with fanfare and gusto through the lacrima to the proxies, some of them being joined now by their masters and mistresses through specialized one way viewing lacrima viewers of their own, "Tonight, I, Willard Alfred Sullivan, present to you the flower of artificial magician research, lot number 272, Experiment S-15!"
With a majestic flourish that wouldn't seem out of place in a three ring circus, Sullivan moved to the crowd's right and then the heavy purple curtains drew back, revealing a black haired girl, encased in a large lacrima, whose physical appearance could only be described as beautiful. From her high cheek bones and small, thin nose down to her barely showing chest, the girl's doll like beauty was only magnified by her porcelain white skin. He slender frame was clothed only by a simple white slip that left her shoulders bare and fell to just above the middle of her knees. Around her slender neck was a black leather Lollard, which on closer inspection would be found to be enchanted with two spells: one for keeping its wearer docile and the second one for giving the wearer commands. A slavery choker.
"This stunning piece of research sums up the entirety of the efforts of our very own Endless Serpent's artificial magician production research," Sullivan grandly gestured to a series of Archive magic screens that appeared all over the stage, drawing the attention of every bidder in the house, "The package includes all of the relevant data relating to S-15 here, along with all of the necessary research equipment and basic necessity equipment for its care," Suddenly Sullivan's voice grew lower, as if talking confidentially, "But that isn't all, dear customers. Along with this magnificent specimen, tonight's final lot includes this!" With another broad flourish of his skinny arms, the old man drew everyone's to a devilishly dressed statue of a woman which held a long spear in its arms, "This spear is something very special to the research division of the Serpents; the first ever successfully made artificial Cursed Armament: the demonic lance of the Sixth, Epithymó," he declared as the room went still, as the name of the lance echoed in the now dead air.
"Party's over, people. Time for a curtain call," the words were spoken calmly, but with a deep seated anger that caused Sullivan and all of the others present to tremble like leaves in the middle of a storm, "Because the Dullahans are here."
With those words, Tristan Argent appeared on the stage from the left side, a naked, black long sword in his right hand. The were flecks of blood on his dark blue shirt and black paints, and a pair of long, black gloves covered his arms from hands to half way between his elbows and his shoulders.
"Growl, Byakkomaru," a second, feminine, voice sounded out from stage right, as Ageha Kurogane appeared, drawing a two and a half foot long katana from an ornate blue and silver scabbard. As she did so, a flickering, almost fluid, image of an enormous white tiger stalked behind her, giving the appearance of a mistress being followed by her pet, "For tonight you shall feast."
"Within a world of perfect form comes silence, as there comes no more need of conflict," the third Dullahan appeared next to the ornate doors that led to the main entrance of the auction house.
The tensions from within the crowd grew palpable, as several of the formerly greedy bidders found themselves suddenly on a block all their own, a chopping block. "Now, shall we settle this peacefully, or are we going to have to do this the hard way?" Orochi Kirimaru question as her old, yet steady voice seemed to break the spell holding the crowd of bidders in their positions, and their security details in reserve; for as his voice died away, the hall transformed from a place of silence into a hellish display of raw human emotions and instincts.
"Security, seize these fools at once!" Sullivan's voice rose with a shriek, galvanizing the nearby male and female security members to rush at the three Dullahans, "Kill them if you must!" he shouted as a smug grin played across Ageha's lips as the first man rushed her, swinging a massive hammer.
"You think your little show's going to scare us? We're professionals!" he roared stoutly, as he swung the hammer above his head in a great arc.
"Ara, what a coincidence," with an almost casual swipe of her own, Ageha's Byakkomaru cut through the hammer's handle just beneath the head, "I'm a professional too," Unable to regain his balance due to a sudden shift in his timing, the towering security man stumbled towards Ageha with a growl of anger in his voice.
"Don't look down on me!" he shouted as he adjusted as best he could, the man attempted to knock Ageha off balance with a vicious tackle, but instead he suddenly found himself flying through the air and landing on top of several of the auction attendees. Ageha had, upon deciding to not harm the man, allowed herself to fall backwards and then had, as the man passed over her, unleashed her leg upward in a powerful double kick that lobbed him out and into the crowd. From her position on the floor, Ageha used her generated momentum to right herself with the grace of a cat, before turning her eyes on the rest of the security members in front of her.
Meanwhile, Orochi had complete checked the flow of people towards the original exit. With his left hand resting lightly on the handle of his own katana, and his own silent anger projected around him like a pool of water, none dared get close to him. So instead the security members who had magic attempted to break his guard with a barrage of ranged attacks.
"Fire Javelin!"
"Stalactite Rain!"
"Wind Blade!"
"Aqua Cutter!"
One after the other the spells flew towards Orochi like a cloud of locusts upon ripening field. But the swordsman's eyes remained closer, even as he drew his sword with a speed equaling that of lightening.
"Mist Dragon Style First Art: Jinsokuna Tsubasa (Swift Wing)," the name was nearly unspoken, but those who heard it saw their spells suddenly cut in two, before the magic itself dissipated like mist. With his eyes still closed, Orochi's voice echoed through the minds and hearts of those within ear range, "If any of you attempt such a foolish action again, my next strike shall take away something more then just your feeble pride," the crowd around Orochi froze in place, as they realized that the man before them may as well have been a wall of solid stone; he wasn't going to be moved by anything less then a person of equal or greater resolve, and the power to back that resolve.
"DIE!" the single word punctuated the air as several half angry and half frightened security detail members rushed towards Tristan, who merely seemed to flutter like a leaf in the wind, causing every attack, either physical or magical, to miss him by hair's breath. One young man in particular seemed incensed by the thought of being the one to strike Tristan down.
"I'm going to to put you down and then use your skull as a goblet at my promotion celebration!" Tristan's face remained impassive at the brutal words, as he lightly sidestepped the man's vicious, magically charged punch that upon hitting the floor of the stage busted a hole right through the six inch thick wood.
"Now if your mother could hear you now, what do you think she'd say to that?" Tristan asked blithely, which caused his opponent to howl in fury.
"Ya leave ma outa thi-gaha..." the security detail member's words were cut short as darkness filled him mind, as if someone had thrown a bucket of water over a fire. The young man's body hit the floor heavily, like a puppet with its strings cut. Tristan cast a bored eye over the man's body, and then turned back to the others, who were slowly beginning to back away.
"Now, anyone else feel like using my skull as a goblet?" the room seemed to cool down, as those trapped within felt the overwhelming strength of the Dullahans. None of the trio were even properly fighting with magic, apart from Tristan's usage of hexes, and that knowledge only chilled the hearts of the already terrified auction attendees.
Meanwhile Sullivan, with his tail between his legs, had fled beneath the stage with S-15. The girl was still contained in the lacrima, and although this made running away with any amount of haste difficult, Sullivan was still making very good time. Having decided to abandon the venue, the little man had decided to take with him only the most valuable items of the night, the lacrima encased S-15, a few rare tomes and the lance included in S-15's lot, Epithymó, "Although I hate to leave behind such a suitable site like this, with our location exposed it means nothing," he cast a greedy eye over to the lacrima encased form of S-15 and the lance, suspended mid-air by his own Telekinesis magic, "But these two piece can easily set me up with another location, and the advance payments from the attendees have also been transferred to my account, although that amounts to nothing more then a pittance compared to this beauty."
"My my, getting attached to your merchandise are we, Sullivan?" the old man froze mid-step as Tralark Travellion appeared from around the next bend of the tunnel. Sullivan's heart began pounding furiously and his palms grew sweaty as he looked into Tralark's bright orange eyes, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say that it looked like you were trying to escape," Sullivan back pedaled towards the lacrima encased S-15, an odd mixture of fear and greed on his face.
"You know, Mr. Travellion, once the merchandise is in the hands of the auction house, the unspoken rule is that you cannot regain the items without first filing the proper paperwork and then paying the handling fees and whatever other expenses have been accumulated," as he spoke, Sullivan slowly inched his left hand towards his hip, where, just beneath his coat, a magic sidearm sat snugly in its holster, "As such, I am taking what ever funds I can from this venture and will use all of my other resources in order to re-establish the Auction with all possible haste," Sullivan's hand was almost to the grip of his weapon when Travellion's lips parted with a frightening grin.
"I'm afraid, Mr. Sullivan," he stated as he advanced like a cat towards a cowering mouse, "That the Endless Serpent's affiliation with you ends tonight."
With a speed born of desperation, Sullivan drew his magic gun in a flash and pulled the trigger as he cleared leather, "NEVER!" he shouted, as Tralark Travellion's head snapped back and a spray of dark red blood splattered across the wall behind him. Mindlessly, Sullivan kept pulling the trigger, causing Travellion's body to shudder and shake as bullet after bullet slammed into the now lifeless shell. Once the clip in his weapon was empty, Sullivan ejected the spent clip, rammed a fresh one home, and once again began his flight into the tunnels. After several minutes of continual sprinting, the elder man's leg felt like rubber, but he continued onward, thoughts of Tralark's lifeless body filling his mind, "Maybe I shouldn't have shot him," the older man mused, as he turned the second to last corner before the emergency escape area, "No, he would have killed me otherwise! I must live on, for my ambi-ugh!" Sullivan went sprawling as his legs seemed to miss the floor. He couldn't understand what had happened, "How could I have-! Ahhh!" a long, guttural cry burst from his throat, as he saw that his legs were behind him, severed at the hips.
"Now that wasn't very kind of you, Mr. Sullivan," a cold, murderous voice softly purred, as its owner stepped into the life, his handsome face marred with a gaping wound in the left side of his head, "Why did you, a single pebble on the side of the road, even attempt to injure me?" there was an odd mixture of rebuke mixed into Tralark's voice, as if Sullivan were a child who had spilled juice on Tralack's pants, "Can you tell me that?" Sullivan trembled furiously, as his brain lit up with signals of pain from his severed legs.
"How are you still alive?" he feebly managed to ask, as Travellion closed in on him like a hawk towards a rabbit. A playful smile appeared on the young man's lips as he responded to Sullivan's words.
"Because I wished to never die," then, with an expression of boredom on his face, Travellion's right fist decended upon Sullivan, turning the older man's body into a massive splatter pattern that covered the tunnel wall beside him. Afterward, Travellion turned to the lacrima encased body of S-15 and smiled, "Now, to leave with yo-hm?" the sound of fighting reached Tralark's ears just before he could touch the lacrima. From the angry shouts and surging of magical energies, Travellion could sense that the Dullahan's had at least one more member fighting in even this difficult to reach part of the facility, "Goodness, it sounds like a real monster's having its way with the saps left in there, doesn't it my dear?" Tralack's words fell on deaf ears, and a frown formed on his lips, "It seems that I shall not be able to get out of this mess with you in tow, my dear, so I'm afraid, I'll have to leave you behind. However," he paused, another smile playing across his lips, "I shall return for you, someday. But for now, goodbye."
Two hours later, a detachment of Rune Knights arrived and took possession of the captured auction attendees and security members. Sullivan's blood stain had been found by Aslan, along with the lacrima encased girl, but the lance listed in the lot with her, and the items taken by Sullivan himself, were nowhere to be found, "Chalk it up to either a very well played robbery or to a mistake in the records, but I don't think you're going to be finding any of those items any time soon, Captain Reeves," Ageha Kurogane sighed as she and her Dullahan's reported their findings to the leader of the Rune Knights. A grizzled veteran with over two decades of active service to the Council, Jonathan Reeves was both a highly skilled mage and an even more competent leader.
"I understand, Kurogane, but that doesn't make me feel any better," the salt and pepper haired forty year old groused, "You're not the one who has to explain that to a bunch of desk jockeys and stiff necked old codgers who get into arguments over how to treat a couple of Legal guilds who've been horsing around too much, instead of how to deal with groups like this..." Reeves brought one weather tanned hand to his face and mopped it with a clean, light blue handkerchief. Ageha smiled sarcastically at his words.
"Ara, but I though that was the life you wanted, one with a steady pay check and no more adventures," Reeves glared at Ageha but held his tongue, "Anyways," Ageha continued with a sharp glint in her purple eyes, "I'm here to confirm the transfer of funds this time around."
Outside the now cordoned off facade warehouse, Tristan, Orochi and Aslan watched silently as the Rune Knights booked and then shipped off the prisoners. Aslan's fists were covered in scratches and his left hand now sported an ugly, but superficial, burn wound. Orochi skillfully wound a few layers of clean gauze over the wound along with some medicinal ointment. The old man's tanned face cracked into a warm smile as he finished up. "There you go, Aslan-kun. But next time, make sure that your opponents have all been properly dealt with before you turn your back on them." Aslan grimaced at Orochi's harsh, yet well meaning words as he nodded his shaggy mane of red hair.
"Yes, Kirimaru-san." Orochi nodded smartly, and then turned to Tristan, who was in the middle of fixing his own set of bandages on his arms.
"And you, Tristan-kun, would you please try and take this business more seriously? You could have gotten very severely injured tonight." Tristan merely shrugged his shoulders offhandedly and made his way over to the lacrima encased girl Aslan had found next to the blood stain confirmed as the only remains of Willard Alfred Sullivan. "Please don't ignore me!" Orochi shouted, as Tristan ran a hand over one of the smooth facets of the lacrima.
"Hey, Orochi, Aslan, do we have any idea who this girl is?" Orochi was still fuming at Tristan and turned sharply on a heel before making his way towards the head quarters tent, while Aslan joined Tristan next to the lacrima.
"I'm afraid not, other then the fact that she was a late addition, directly from someone listed only as T.T. in the ledgers..." The large man fell silent as he looked upon the form of the girl, a faint sadness welling up in his heart. "Do you think that the Council will be able to get this girl out of her prison?" Tristan's eye turned to face Aslan, who he could tell empathized with the entombed girl. A playful glimmer sparkled in his dark blue eyes as he responded with a grin.
"With all the cutting edge tech those guys have lying around, I'd bet they can." As he smacked his large companion on the side, Tristan's feet slid out from under him, causing him to fall against the lacrima with a startled yelp.
"Tristan-kun are you alri-what?" The big man's voice rose in pitch as he witnessed the lacrima crystal around the girl spider web with cracks and then completely shatter, causing the girl to fall into his reflexively outstretched arms. "So light..." He said quietly to himself, as several Rune Knights feel in around the threesome.
"What the! How did you break that lacrima, Argent?" One of the Knights asked in surprise, "Our equipment measured this stuff's density as on par with diamond!" At a lose, Tristan could only shrug helplessly as the Rune Knights asked him question one atop another.
From the headquarters tent, Ageha and Reeves could hear the commotion, and were quickly draw out and over to the scene, which left Reeves with his mouth agape and Ageha with a troubled look on her face. "This is certainly unexpected." Without turning to the Rune Knight Captain, Ageha offered him a lifeline, "Do you want to let us Dullahan's handle this girl, Jonathan?" Reeves quickly recovered and scowled gloomily.
"I'd rather not leave such a young child with a group like yours, no offense Ageha, but the uproar she would likely cause is even worst then I can even Imagine. So please do..." Reeves trailed off as he realized the implication of his words, but he didn't have the heart to retract his words, as he watched Ageha gently take the smaller girl from Aslan's awkward arms and then wander off into the night, followed closely behind by Orochi, who was saliently attempting to dissuade his Master from the 'incomprehensible notion of taking care of a child along with establishing a respectable guild.' Aslan trailed behind the pair, the girl taking up the entirety of his conscious thoughts. Only Tristan remained behind, watching his guild mates fading off into the night, "Shouldn't you be following after them, Argent?"
"Jon, is it really okay for us, a group of irregulars under contract to the Magic Council, to be handling the welfare of a child like that?" Tristan's words voiced the one question that Jon had not wanted to answer, but he knew that he'd have too, if only to convince himself and not the silver haired fighter before him.
"Honestly? The answer is no, the four of you are not. Ageha's the former number one assassin from the Endless Serpent guild, and she's wanted in pretty much every country besides Fiore. If she were to cross a national border, she'd be tried and executed without as much as a second thought," Jon rubbed his temples before continuing, "And don't even get me started on Aslan. We don't have any records on that guy and anything related to his existence is kept under lock and key. If I ask anything remotely relating to him, all I get is a stiff rebuke to not ask again. All I have are three words, 'Crown of Guilt.'" Jon cast an even look over to Tristan, "I'll bet my next years pay you know what's going on, but you'll never tell me, right?" Tristan nodded in response.
"Until Aslan is ready, my lips are sealed," he said as Jon sighed heavily.
"I expected as much, and I've got even less on Kirimaru. The guy's a one armed death machine with that sword of his, but I've got nothing on him at all."
"You've got that right," Tristan chuckled in response, "And I'd be willing to bet that he's got the most dangerous sword style out of all of us, even more so then Ageha," Jon leveled a sharp look at the sheathed sword on Tristan's back thoughtfully.
"Then last but not least is you, the silver haired sword wielder who fights who uses a freaky kind of curse-like black magic that steals away the strength and will to fight from those around you," Jon fixed Tristan with a critical look, "Do you have any idea how much we're spending to take care of the people you've 'hexed' over the past few years? I swear, we're getting so crowded that there has been talk of opening an asylum for all of the patients..." Jon trailed off as a minor headache caused his temples to throb, "By the lord harry, I'd swear that the lot of you are going to be the worst parents in history, if any one of you can find a suitable mate even," Tristan grinned at Jon, and then began to walk away into the pitch darkness of the night.
"If it makes you feel any better, Jon, if this fails, you and Kendra are going to have to adopt this one along with your own two little ones," before Reeves could retort, Tristan's silver head had vanished into that shadow, as if he himself were a shadow. Sighing again, Reeves took out an old pipe and lit up, taking a long, deep puff to calm his nerves.
"Even if you tried to fail at taking care of that kid, I doubt you could do it, Tristan," Jon said quietly to himself, as one of his men drew near to him, a sheaf of papers in his hands, "Because every time I look at you Dullahan's, even if you're in the middle of a battle, I feel, deep down, that you four are some of the best people I've ever met, and that the monstrous powers you carry are only there for one reason: to put an end to the darkness of this world.
Ending A/N: Whew, that was a lot longer then I expected, but it felt good to write like this after so long.
Hello, honored guests, my name is Azrael DarkWings, and this is my glorious comeback. After failing to preform for so long, I hope that you folks have enjoyed this piece, and will come back again for the next chapter.
For those of you asking questions: this time around, White Dullahan was founded in X780, and will be accepting characters as of mid-X783. Yes, in this case, S-15 is going to be the reason why they start accepting more members, but beyond that, my lips are sealed.
If you want to submit an OC, or resubmit an old one, please go over to my Profile and use the sheet there. Please note: I'm adding one more section in the XXX/100 part, Magical reserves. The idea for this came from another fanfiction, the name escapes me, but thanks for the idea. Magic reserves would translate into how much magical energy a character has, like your MP gauge for those of you who play rpgs, Final Fan*asy anyone?
Anyways: one of the biggest factors this time around is also going to be age, as I don't want to wind up with a guild full of kids. So don't make your characters too young, otherwise I will not accept them. At this time, I have received three guild members besides the ones here, all of whom are made by me, with a few others on the way. In order to keep this momentum going, I'm going to ask that you folks allow me 1-2 weeks worth of time to make the next chapter, more likely 2, so as to buff up my character count.
Other rules for Ocs, only two, possibly even only one Slayer will be accepted, and even then Dragon Slayer, due to Canon, are going to have to be Second Generation, aka artificial, Slayers, unless you give me one hell of a detailed back story. ManhattenProject, I'm looking at you. D.A. was just about perfect in that regard.
Goodness, in regards to current word count, I've almost hit 7000 for this chapter at this point! When did this happen?!
Anyhow, thanks for reading this, all you beautiful folks out there. Please come back again, as the story of the guild White Dullahan takes off to newer and higher heights then it previously did.
P.S. Major Notice: If you do not send me your OC via PM, I will not even look at them. No characters from the comments section ever again.
And with that, I'm signing off for the night. I'll have this chapter up, as I hoped, before the month changes, and I'll do a much better job this time around. So I swear upon my honor as a writer and as a package handler. Please 'Follow' if you liked the story and 'Comment' on what you liked and, hopefully not, disliked about the story so far. I'll be shouting out to, hopefully, a few of you commentators at the start of the next chapter, and I hope to deliver a good time to you lovers of Fairy Tail, just as much as I enjoy writing it.