Hey guys! So while I've been unable to type very efficiently because of an injury, I've pretty much decided to release a few chapters of some fanfics that I started but never continued. I just feel like some of them deserved to be read, and who knows, I might feel like continuing them.
Anyway, please excuse any typos or mistakes, as some of these have been written as long as three years ago.
So I've always been a fan of Fairy Tail, but this fic spawned from a rekindled love. It's been awhile since I've worked on this one, maybe a year? Anywho, Enjoy!
She didn't remember much from her old life. Her adult years were vivid at least, but she hadn't been one for very long; she had only been twenty-five.
She could barely recall her parents, and that bothered her the most, although, she had admitted to herself that it was for the best, as she would not feel as much loss. Still, she felt as if she had lost a large part of her very self.
The town she grew up in, her childhood friends, and her teenage years were blurry at best. However, the facts, formulas, and trivia she had acquired over those years seemed to be retained; they flowed through her head at an alarming rate. She saw things and knew things she couldn't possibly see or know.
She could practically feel the smooth curve of a violin and the delicate keys on the flute and piano. When she closed her eyes, scales, techniques, and notes swam through her vision.
It was easier to remember how she had majored in music during her college years. They felt miles away compared to a certain, vicious, scene the attacked her head, but she could remember them.
At twenty-two, she had graduated, and at twenty-four she had been give a job as a music teacher for grade school kids. She had loved it more than life itself.
Apparently, he had felt the same way about her.
She didn't know his name, but from their brief interaction, she got the gist of his infatuation with her. It was more than that, actually; it was an obsession.
She only knew him as the janitor, a minor acquaintance she forced herself to be polite to, even though he was unattractive and smelled like the trash he threw out. She had no idea he had built a shrine for her, with a wall completely filled with her photographed face and bosom, that is, until he had taken her there.
One moment she was re-taping some torn sheet music, and the next she was choking on a rag and a terrible, heavy, scent that stuck in the back of her throat like a second layer of skin. Many minutes later, although it had felt like seconds, she found herself nestled on a rotting, moldy, and bare mattress. Dozens of mangled roses littered the surrounding ground, and besides the number of lit candles, there was nothing to see by. She had always been a curious, adventurous one, so despite her pounding head and aching body, she grabbed a nearby candle and rose to her feet. She tried to ignore the fact that her shoes were gone, but the cold seeping into her bare toes was a cruel reminder. Her jacket was gone, so that meant her car keys and wallet were as well. All of her jewelry had been striped away, from her earrings to the piercing on her belly button, which she knew by the throbbing in each step she took. Other than that, she had been left untouched.
That was when she tripped. She landed onto her knee, hard, and tears sprang into her eyes. Perhaps it was actually the fear?
The candle clashed to the ground, hot wax stinging her hand. It rolled to the side, and suddenly flamed roared to life at her side. She shielded her eyes as a previously unseen burlap sack erupted into flames. Well, burlap burned rather tamely, so it wasn't instant, but soon the entire room was lit by an orange glow. That was how she could tell she was in a closet. Brooms and cleaning liquids took up most of the floor and wall space; she had fallen on a bucket. The rest of the walls were covered with her face.
There were hundreds of pictures. Some were of her in the classroom, in her car, in her bedroom. In some, she was sleeping, and in others, she was naked. Often times there were identical photos, twins, but one would be zoomed in on her chest or face. There were even close-ups of her ankles.
The most numerous photos, however, were of her hands. They were bare, gloved, zipping up her coat, unlocking her car, cooking, drawing, conducting, and playing every single instrument she had ever played.
"Do you like it?"
She went stiff, turning, slowly, to see him not a foot behind her. His eyes were sincere, wide.
Her voice stuck in her throat.
"I made it for both of us. I-..." He took a step towards her, reaching out for her. "I love you...So, so much."
When his finger brushed her cheek, he smiled.
It didn't matter to her if she was acting out of fear, disgust, anger, or all three, but the moment his lips curved up, she lashed out. She aimed for his eyes, using her nails to cause extra damage. She viciously dug into something soft and fleshy, her survival instincts and adrenaline controlling her. She heard him cry and scream in pain, and that made her feel good, but in a split second, her tiny hands had been ripped away and captured. Something warm and weightless was still attached to them.
"How could you!?" He roared, blood dripping from his empty eye socket. Bile rose to the back of her throat as her eyes caught his bloodied eye and an optical tube hung from her hands and nails. Her head spun with nausea.
"Why did you do that!?" He cried out, shaking her violently. She shuddered, but somehow managed to spit on his face. He scream again tugged at her hair, making her cry out. Tears flowed down her cheeks in rivulets. His other fist cruelly crushed her hands. The pressure was unbearable. He still pulled at her head, forcing her neck to an unnatural angle. He aimed it downwards, causing her knees to buckle. She had no choice but to slide to the dirty floor. She sat on her feet and knees with a soft, defeated smack. Her heart skipped several beats and her breath quickened.
"Please-!" She gasped, her tears and pain silencing her.
Those were her last words.
Suddenly a black fog settled upon them. The man began to choke and sputter. He released her and fell to his knees, sucking in air in gulps.
The black settled further down.
Too late did she comprehend what it was. Her lungs boiled and her throat burned. She gagged but couldn't recover.
Incoming smoke had turned thick and deadly from burning chemicals. The flames had quickly spread, only after a bottle with flammable contents had combusted and set off a chain reaction. Now the fog was twice as deadly and fast-acting.
She suffocated in minutes, not long after her captor.
She remembered that last moment like she had just watched it on television. She had died. She was sure of that.
But that didn't explain why she was alive now. She felt her breathe and heat, and knew wasn't dead anymore. She couldn't understand why she was still there.
She noticed how short her arms were, but her brain took much too long to process such a simple thought. With her tiny limbs, slow thinking, and inability to move much, she managed to piece together that she was, in fact, a baby: an infant.
Her eyes took much too long to absorb her surroundings and situation.
She was outside, on the ground, of her vantage point told her anything. Trees spiraled above her, as tall as mountains. It was night, and her cheeks felt cold from the breeze, but the rest of her was nice and warm. She was actually very comfortable; that's why she didn't mind that no one found her until morning.
She had dozed off during those lonesome hours, but the rattling ground shook her to consciousness. Someone, someone big, was approaching her.
"What the hell?" she heard a man exclaim. The next moment, she was being lifted in a basket. "A baby!?" he gasped, his black eyes wide. His stubbly chin and his purple hair... She recognized him. Barely, from something far away, but she did.
"What is that, Macao?"
It took several seconds for her brain to process the second man behind them. He approached tentatively, a pipe in his lips. His hair was blonde and styled in a pompadour.
"It's a kid," was the first man's response.
"Are you shitting me!?" the second man gasped.
"Hey," her carrier reprimanded, "watch the language!"
"It's a baby! She won't understand a thing. Won't you?" His last words were directed towards her, and he used a voice masked in baby-talk.
She understood him, alright, but she couldn't exactly say as much. Now that she had some time to think, this man was familiar as well.
"So what do you do with her?" The second man asked with an inhalation of his pipe.
"Take her to the guild? Not much else to do," said the first.
"Oh, Master'll love this," Smokey drawled sarcastically.
The words 'guild', 'Master', and 'Macao' seemed so familiar to her, but she couldn't place her finger on where she had heard them before.
She hardly noticed when the man who was carrying her began to walk.
Even though her tiny brain processed things more slowly than usual, her mind was still sharper than that of a normal infant. It was nearly 100 fold, actually. That was to be expected of an actual 25 year old. Still, when the man who had been carrying her, Macao, arrived in front of a large, four story building with grand sculpting and designs, she couldn't place where she had seen it before. There was a symbol on every flag that was hung, which was also incorporated into a giant sign above the entrance. There were only two words, but Macao didn't wait long enough for her to comprehend them. He immediately walked through the double doors, his companion right behind him. Her eyes were met with the sight of a furnished bar, and scattered tables. The atmosphere was warm and homey, and laughter and cheers rang out in shared joy. Men and women celebrated, nothing in particular, but they had fun. She blinked.
"What's a kid doing here? Macao, what'd you do!?" a dry voice reprimanded prematurely, although it didn't really sound all the angry.
"Let me guess," a voluptuous women butted in, " you couldn't keep your pants on even though you just got married? Classic Macao!" she howled in laughter, many others joining her.
"Very funny, you faithless troublemakers! And watch the mouth, there's a baby here!"
"Ah, relax, it's not like it understands," a new man draped his arm over Macao's shoulder, peering down at the child's face. She blinked.
"She's a cutie," the newcomer chuckled. "There's no way she's yours!"
More laughter ensued.
"What are you brats going on about this time!?" The laughter ceased, but the mood was still joyous.
"Master!" Macao greeted. The master was a very small man, she noticed, with a receding hairline and a gray mustache. He was no taller than three feet, but how was that possible? Everyone seemed to not notice his height, and even though their necks were craned at the floor, they seemed to look up to him. She recognized him, too.
"What's with the kid?" He questioned calmly, eyeing her bundle with a raised eyebrow.
Macao swung the child down low so he could get a better look, while at the same time, the Master jumped onto a table. He was no more than a foot away from her face, scrutinizing her.
"I found her outside the guild, by the woods," Macao explained.
"Oh?" The master raised his other eyebrow. "So why did you bring her here?"
Macao rubbed his neck, confused. "Was I supposed to leave her outside? What was there to do?"
"The orphanage is within walking distance," the master pointed out. "Or, you could have taken her home to Hannah. You are married now."
Macao's mouth dropped open. "W-what, you mean kept her?"
The master nodded, his eyes serious.
"I-well, I mean... Hannah and I just got married. There's no way we're ready for kids yet!"
"So what about the orphanage?"
Macao bit his lip and looked down at her. She blinked up at him, unable to do anything but. Suddenly, very quietly, yet with certainty, he spoke. "She was left out there for us. Not the orphanage, us. She's meant to be with someone in the guild."
Everyone was silent at his words. They all knew that mages were tricky creatures, and they had to trust their feelings and beliefs.
The man smoking the pipe, who had been otherwise quiet, spoke up at her left. "There's bound to be someone here that'll take her. What's the harm in asking around?"
The master sighed. "You know I would never abandon a child, but this is a guild, not a daycare. It could get dangerous. The best place for the baby would be somewhere where she could be adopted by responsible, normal parents, who are actually prepared to take care of her."
Macao sighed, knowing he was right.
The mood had changed to a regretful one, although it wasn't heavy. It was rather silent, as everyone was lost in their thoughts.
"What about Lilith?" the voluptuous woman suggested, breaking the silence. Macao grinned from ear-to-ear. "Yeah, master, why don't we ask Lilith to take her? If she says no, than we can take her to the orphanage like you said."
The master sighed, folding his arms over his chest. "Fine. Where is she?"
Lilith, as the master knew, had lost a child several years before. She was heartbroken, but she was a strong person, so she survived. It didn't seem so out of the picture for her to randomly adopt a child found in the woods.
"She's on a job right now," one man informed them. "She might not be back for a few days, maybe even a week."
"So what will you do with her until then!?" the master shouted.
Everyone froze in thought again.
"We'll have to keep her here... I can't take her home because Hannah might feel obliged to keep her, and we're not ready for kids yet.
"Same here~!" Smokey and two other men raised their arms and said simultaneously.
"Hey, get your own excuse!" Macao harshly whispered. In an instant, the cheerful mood
returned and chatter began again. Several women hijacked the baby from Macao's arms. They ignored his 'Hey!' and cooed over the baby.
"She's so adorable!"
"I wonder what it's like to be a mother?"
"She's way too quiet. Macao, are you sure you didn't break her or something!?"
"Shut up!"
"Keeping her here wouldn't be practical. Someone has to take her for a few days, until Lilith returns," the master declared, his voice fatherly and conclusive. He took the child from the mob of women.
"Any takers!?" He held the baby out on display from the table.
"This isn't an auction!" Smokey exclaimed, causing everyone to laugh, even the old man.
She couldn't help but stare at the tiny man on the table. If Macao was familiar, he was even more so.
The mob of women and several more crowded the table and the man. He seemed to like the attention.
"I can't take her, but can I at least hold her?"
"No! No! Let me!"
"How cute!"
The master smirked.
It was then that Macao leaned over his back and whispered something in his hairy ear. The two were the only to hear, in addition to the ever attentive baby in the old man's arms.
"You know, Master...babies are real chick magnets..."
"I've made a decision!" the old man announced grandly, almost instantly. He held the child above his head. "I will take her!"
Everyone cheered and hollered, and the old man smugly grinned.
"That old perv," Macao joked to Smokey.
The Master held the baby at eye level, his face happy and his voice crooning.
"Hey there, kid! I'm Makarov, but you can call me gramps!" he chuckled.
She suddenly remembered where she'd known him from.
It took two weeks for Lilith to get back. The woman had no trouble completing her job, but she had spontaneously decided that she needed a serious vacation (in other words, she happened to pass by a beautiful spa and couldn't resist).
It was during those two week that she grew attached to Makarov. He fed her religiously, gave her mountains of attention, and cleaned her diaper. The others at the guild attributed greatly as well, but it was Makarov who kept her and put her to bed. He took care of her with a tenderness he didn't seem to have when other were around.
She tried to repay him by never spitting up or crying, so she never did. At one point she had been taken into the woods again, this time into a marvelously crafted, cozy house made from a hollowed tree. Inside, Makarov had listed his concerns for her health to an older woman with pink hair (boy, that was a sight). After two examinations, one that a normal doctor would give, and one that a Mage would give, she told Makarov the news.
"She's completely fine. There's nothing wrong with her."
"How can that be? She hasn't cried once. I've had a son, I know what babies are like."
The woman shrugged. "She's just an old soul."
She wondered if this woman actually knew how right she was.
By the end of the first week, she had realized she loved Makarov. She vehemently refused to believe that she felt like that only because he was from her beloved anime series. Makarov hadn't been a character she had really been all that fond of. Now, he was her whole world.
She knew how she felt ran deeper than an animated show.
She wanted a way to show him her love, but she couldn't speak. She would need practice.
So, everyday, when Makarov took her to the guild hall, as she had come to know it by, she would only respond to him.
Women would crowd her (because she was a baby, come on, who wouldn't?) and coo at her and try and make her laugh. She wouldn't even crack a smile until Makarov tried to 'show them how it's done'. No matter what stupid face or silly voice he used, she would alway smile and laugh. Then the women would smile and laugh and coo over Makarov.
Sometimes he would flash her a thumbs up, as if to say, 'Nice job! You're the best wingman ever!'
It made her laugh so hard one time that a nearby Macao had commented.
"Sheesh. It's like she knows what she's doing."
"She'll be a fine Fairy Tail Mage one day," Smokey, whose real name was Makaba, agreed.
Fairy Tail: the guild from her favorite anime. She could remember the show clearly, despite her foggy memory, and despite the fact she had begun watching it in her late teens. The latter half she had seen as an adult, but the entire show seemed to be crystalline clear. She was extremely confused at how she had wound up in this world, but she knew one thing; the guild was even better in real life.
During the middle of the second week, Makarov had begun to ask around for Lilith. That saddened her to no end, but she reminded herself that this had been the plan from the beginning.
But even saying that didn't help how she felt.
One night, after Makarov had changed her diaper and was bidding her goodnight, he tried to tell her comforting thoughts.
"In no time, you'll have a real crib, real toys, and a real mother. You'll like Lilith, because she laughs a lot."
Makarov didn't expect her to burst into wailing tears, and neither did she. He jumped into the crib and cradled her up.
"There, there," he comforted, more surprised than anything. He chuckled, in understanding rather than joy. "Boy, this wasn't supposed to happen." Before she could even begin to wonder what he had meant, he continued.
"I wasn't supposed to get attached."
That made her calm down some, but she didn't stop crying. She didn't remember when she did stop, actually, because she fell asleep in Makarov's arms.
The day Lilith came was a sad one. Everyone seemed to pick up on the mood, but nothing was said regarding it. They hadn't know when she would be here for sure, but that day it seemed pretty obvious.
Lilith was a tall woman with cropped brown hair and pretty eyes. Makarov and Macao had taken her to the side of the guild hall the moment she stepped foot through the door. She watched the woman's facial expression shift from surprised, to contemplative, and finally to hopeful. The trio, finished, approached the baby in a plastic seat. Lilith gently stroked her head, and she would have lied if she said it wasn't pleasant. The woman's eyes lit up and she opened her mouth in a smile, and she turned towards Makarov-...
The guild master had his eyes closed in acceptance, and his face was emotionless, but Lilith saw it. She could see his heart on his sleeve. Even Macao saw it.
She flicked back towards the baby and winked.
"Sorry, Makarov!" She placed her hand on her hips and sighed dramatically. "I'm not ready for kids yet. I can't take her home, because Andy would feel obliged to keep her!"
Makarov opened his eyes in shock, but his face slowly morphed into a fond smile.
"You brats."
"Well, sorry kid, but I guess it's off to the orphanage for you!" Macao mock-sighed, lifting the child up way too slowly.
Makarov scoffed. "Put the kid down, you brat. I've known that old bat at the orphanage for years, and I wouldn't be surprised if she forgot her own name. We can't take a child to someplace so terrible! That'd be irresponsible!"
Everyone, even the eavesdropping members of the guild, burst into laughter.
Lilith bent over the child and fingered her tiny hand. "What's her name?"
Makarov placed his hand on his chin. "Hmm... Well, we were waiting, so we've just been calling her 'kid'..."
She tried to remember her old name, something she had never even thought about. It never crossed her mind that she didn't have a name.
Macao shrugged. "You should name her, Lilith." He grinned at her, and she grinned back.
"I've got a few ideas..."
Three weeks later, after registering and filing the paperwork, she had officially been adopted by Makarov.
She liked the name Wyeth Dreyar just fine.
Wyeth was three months old when she met Laxus. To her complete and utter shock, the blonde boy was with his father, Ivan. The dark man appeared much younger than the one she remembered from the show. Not to mention, he was lacking that air of insanity. Wyeth still thought he was a grouch, however.
He barged into the guild hall, his son by his side. People were friendly in greeting him, and he didn't entirely blow them off, but all he did was nod at them. That seemed like enough to the others.
Wyeth was at the counter, snug in her little plastic chair that was buckled to a stool. Ivan approached her immediately.
"Is this her?" He asked Makarov, who was never more than a few yards away.
"This is Wyeth," he responded calmly.
Ivan 'humphed'. "I won't call her my sister," he shot.
"Think of her as a niece," Makarov suggested. He didn't offer any more words for conversation, but he really didn't need to. Ivan seemed to abide by that.
He averted his attention to the bulletin board. His eyes scanned the dozen of papers pinned to its surface for a few moments. Suddenly, he ripped one off and folded it, depositing it into his jacket.
"I need the kid to stay here for a while."
Makarov nodded. This wasn't anything new.
Ivan spun on his fancy heel, his black cloak whirling after him, and left the guild hall.
Everyone seemed to relax after he was gone, even Wyeth, who hardly reacted to anything with something other than an owlish blink.
That's when everyone seemed to remember the blonde kid on the floor.
He was the same height as Makarov, Wyeth noticed, and she saw the old man's face somewhere in his. They had the same eyes, nose, and forehead. Wyeth saw no sign of Laxus' scar, which caused a question to arise in her. How and when did he get it? Was it when his father implants the lightning dragon slayer lacrima? Or had that already happened?
Makarov greeted Laxus heartily, hugging him. "My, you've gotten big! It's been a while; we don't usually go that long without a visit. What've you been up to?"
Before the grinning boy could answer, Makaba slapped the counter. "Guess what, everybody! Laxus is back!" He rose his mug in the air, and it was followed by a roar a cheers. All the present guild members shouted greetings and the chatter rose in volume. Laxus grinned from ear-to-ear, his eyes alight with wonder. He loved visiting Grandpa.
Makarov hopped back up to the counter and retrieved Wyeth. Just as quickly, he was back in place, extending the child out for his grandson to see. The boy curiously glanced at her face.
"Dad said I'd be meeting my aunt," he admitted. Makarov chuckled. "That's a technicality. Wyeth is more like your cousin." Laxus seemed to understand, for he grinned again and poked the child on the cheek.
"Cousin Wyeth!" He laughed. The other guild members chuckled at his carefree attitude and easy acceptance. Laxus was a Fairy, through and through, even though his father shouldn't have been. After the disappointment of Ivan, one could see why Makarov held Laxus close to his heart.
"Wow! Her skin is so soft!" The five year old exclaimed. That day went on to be filled with joyous laughter and happy acceptance.
Over the years, Laxus was left at the guild by Ivan more and more often, and for much longer periods. He was usually nice to Wyeth, who had, as a three year old, finally began to talk. While she was quiet by nature, she rattled on a lot. And her vocabulary was almost that of an adult's. She and Laxus could go at it like there was no tomorrow (on those occasions when fighting was unavoidable between two young children who spent plenty of time together, even when one of them was really twenty-eight). They could argue like heated teenagers. Laxus was a gifted kid, she'd have to admit. She sometimes forgot he was only eight.
It was around this time that Wyeth had asked Makarov for a violin, when Laxus had made fun of her when she told him she could play one, and he didn't believe her. After all, she hadn't ever seen one. Makarov gave one to her as a Christmas present, and she thanked him with so much passion that tears leaked from her eyes. She hardly ever cried, so whenever she did, Makarov felt touched. The violin was for children, and wasn't very fancy. The wood was cheap and furnished poorly, the strings were horribly out of tune, and it didn't even sound all that pretty, but Wyeth loved it.
The minute after Laxus had finished opening his present, a baseball bat, Wyeth went to work. She hadn't tuned by ear in such a long time, and her hearing as a child was off, but she managed to get the strings to sound close enough to their purposed notes.
She shouldn't have expected to just be able to belt out like she could have at twenty-five. The hands she was currently using had no callouses, and their muscles hadn't been molded yet. She would have to work back her skill up, and this saddened her. She use to be able to fly.
Wyeth supposed she had played better to Makarov and Laxus than to herself, her toughest critic. She had managed to save face by playing much more slowly than the song was supposed to be, but it just didn't sound right to her.
Still, Makarov applauded with gusto, and Laxus grudgingly admitted that she could, in fact, play the violin (but he called her a cheater under his breath, so it was alright to say it).
Over the next few weeks, when playing became easier, Wyeth simply felt joy at the familiar feelings in her fingers. She loved music.
When she was four, she received her first flute, and she went on to aspire for a piano.
The guild loved her music, and she played for them almost every day. Often, nights ended in a dance party, with buzzed adults clapping and spilling drinks when they tried to jump to the beat. Wyeth would play for hours without stopping, whether she was on her violin or her flute. She had a giant range of genre, a large arsenal, and a knack to play what matched the mood. Laxus always called her a show off, to which she responded to with sticking out her tongue at him (hey, she didn't have to act like a twenty-nine year old all the time).
Wyeth had her first episode around the time she was six. She found no rhyme or reason as to why it happened, and it added to her ever growing confusion about how and why she was in the world of Fairy Tail.
One moment she was at the bar in the guild hall, sipping some apple juice deceptively in a mug, and the next her vision had tunneled in on itself.
She lost the feeling in her body, and the only thing she could do was let it pass. In her head, she saw flashes of seemingly random colors and shapes that her brain didn't decipher until they had already passed.
When her sight and bearings had returned, Wyeth found her head laid in Makarov's lap, his concerned face above hers. Her chest was heaving and sweat poured down her face. The other guild members helped her rise to her feet so that she could get to we room. She grabbed onto someone's arm, but immediately had to release her grip from the pain that shot from her hand. Her fingers had been bloodied and rubbed raw, and her nails were cracked and torn. She stared at it in confusion.
She saw the countertop, where she had been sitting before the attack.
A child had been sketched onto the wood, his silhouettes accidentally smeared with blood.
Wyeth recognized him immediately.
It was Gray Fullbuster, as a child.
But why had she etched him onto the countertop? And why had she seen him in whatever that vision was?
That was when Wyeth began to truly question her existence. How had she wound up in this world? And, more importantly, why?
After Porlyusica had deemed the episode as 'something she'd have to live with', the pinked haired woman went on to explain how the event was caused by Wyeth's magical power suddenly awakening. Apparently six was a little early to become a Mage, but being surrounded by such powerful people constantly had made Wyeth an early bloomer.
Porlyusica said she'd continue to look for the meaning of the picture Wyeth had damaged her hand from, but until then she just healed all of the girl's wounds and suggested she learn how to control her powers in order to prevent more incidents. Wyeth stared at the Mage as she worked on her hands. Porlyusica had been the woman Makarov had taken her to as an infant, she knew, but the first visit had been a warm one. Now she was held at arm length with a cold stare and implied insults. She really hated humans, this woman.
Porlyusica was someone not to be bothered often, so she was kind of like a last resort as far as medical advice. Wyeth felt guilty about causing her adoptive father to worry to such a degree, but he really couldn't control anything.
Makarov had somehow fixed the table, no doubt with magic, and daily life returned to normal, save for Wyeth's training. Each day grew more and more challenging, some days leaving her in tears. What was really frustrating was that they weren't really training training sessions; they were mostly meditation. Makarov would tell her how to sit and how to summon what, and how to get used to suppressing this, and other vague orders, but she couldn't figure out what he was talking about. He said he couldn't just tell everything to her right off the bat, because magic was as individual as people, and she had to discover hers for herself. But no matter how long she tried, she couldn't get past the meditation stage.
Makarov couldn't spend all day with her, so she spent most of her days in her room, concentrating, alone. Even when Laxus came to visit (he had long ago received his scar, and refused to tell her how, even when she said please), she remained in her room. The other guild members noticed her lack of presence, and often spoke to her words of encouragement when they actually saw her, but none of it helped. Wyeth had even taken a break from playing music, which was not something she had wanted to do. She still had to work herself up to her old musical level, but she had decided that focusing on one thing at a time was for the best. Gradually her mood grew darker and darker, and over a span of a few months, she barely saw anyone.
Wyeth was so determined to learn magic because she had to, eventually, investigate her existence. She was never someone to just sit by and wonder, and if she didn't know something, she would ask. She didn't know who to ask, in this case, so all she could do was prepare herself. She had a gut feeling that something would come, but she couldn't say when... Or what.
Through meditation, Wyeth discovered that although she had rough time summoning magic in the first place, it got progressively easier. There had been improvement from the start of her training, but it didn't seem like much to her in the long run. At that point, after six months and a birthday, Wyeth could open her magical senses almost instantly, even though she had to force it and t didn't come naturally. She did, however, have a rather high amount of power, that Makarov had blamed for her difficulty in summoning it. The same concept could be found in weightlifting; it was smarter to start out with less and work your way up. Well, it wasn't like she could've chosen how much she had. Besides, she had a feeling that'd she'd be needing as much magical power as she could get.
When she was six and a half, Wyeth made a breakthrough. It wasn't from diligence and hard work, but the opposite. She had done it while taking a break.
Wyeth had eaten supper and was rinsing off her used plate. Like Makarov, she simply ate all of her meals in the guild hall. Since she lived upstairs, she had special access to the kitchen behind the bar. Actually, anyone could be there, but Wyeth felt like a true member of Fairy Tail when she helped the waitresses in the back. Until she mastered magic and became an official Mage, that would have to do.
As Wyeth rubbed the last dish dry, a concerned Lilith had approached her from behind and placed a warm hand on her shoulder. The two had been as close as anyone, besides Makarov and Laxus, so seeing the woman was not surprising.
"Wyeth, will you be playing for us tonight?" Lilith asked her. "Macao just got back from a long job, and he was really looking forward to it."
Wyeth blinked up at her in thought. Her meditation had become stressful, which was probably counter-productive. When ever she had been having trouble with a music piece, she often took a step back and took a breather. More often than not, when she returned, she could fly through it.
Besides, she hasn't played her violin or flute for weeks.
"Alright," Wyeth agreed. She placed the plate into a cabinet and followed Lilith through the kitchen doors.
The sight in the guild hall that met her made her freeze.
Makarov, Wakaba, and Laxus, who hadn't been for a visit in a few weeks and hadn't been there that day at all, stood with every other member of the guild that Wyeth had ever met, even the ones who were supposedly on jobs. There were people she even only talked to once or twice, but they all had warm smiles on their faces. Macao, grinning mischievously, wheeled a huge, covered wagon behind him. Wyeth watched it with a face flushed with joy. She could tell what it was.
Macao rolled the cargo into a spacious corner, where a polished bench had already been placed.
"This was a rather difficult job..." Macao sighed dramatically, turning to face her like the rest of the guild.
Makarov cleared his throat. "While getting stronger is a good thing... Try not to forget about those who care for you. They should be your reason," he fathered, sternly. Wyeth opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Theses people... The guild... They had been worried about her. She had been growing more and more reclusive, and had unconsciously been pushing those around her away. Wyeth immediately felt guilty for pushing them aside like that, when they, all of them, had been the reason why she lived the way she did. Macao had decided to bring her to the guild hall in lieu of the orphanage, Makarov had taken her into his home and family, not a single person rejected her presence, not even Ivan, Lilith had given up a her whole life as a mother to make her happy, and Laxus was like her brother. She could even only use magic because they had accepted her to be with them.
She was so grateful. Especially when Macao took Makarov's following silence as a signal to uncover the tarp. Underneath was an ivory grand piano.
Wyeth felt tears flow down her cheeks, and she tried to wipe them away with a hiccup.
This caused joyous laughter and whoops from the guild. People hugged her and patted her shoulder, guiding her to her gift. Laxus called her a baby. Macao lifted her in his arms when she was a foot from the piano. She embraced him and he chuckled, patting her on the head. He released her back onto the ground so she could do the same with Wakaba, and finally she wrapped her arms around her adoptive father, no lifting required.
"I love you," she whispered, sniffling. Makarov had tears in his old eyes, something she had never seen before, but they were happy and emotional. Wyeth faintly realized that this was only the second time she had ever cried in this life. She wondered if she should tell Makarov about her actual age or not, and decided that she would, but not at this time. Now she just wanted to play.
After a playful punch from a eleven year old Laxus in the arm, Wyeth crawled onto the bench. She ran her fingertips over the Grand Piano's smooth wooden cover before she flipped it open. Pearly keys glowed up at her , and when she tested them, she felt shivers run down her spine from their sound. They resonated with her heart, causing another wave of tears. It was beautiful.
Wyeth, like with most other things, didn't hold back and pretend to be her age. Instead, she played to her best abilities, despite that she was never supposed to have even seen a piano before. Her hands were yet again well trained from her small flute and violin, and she was pleased with how they moved. She wasn't perfect, since she hadn't played in six and a half years, but notes flowed through her head like she was reading them. The rules and techniques she had drilled into her head through four years of college had not been forgotten, like everything else she learned in school. She played some Beethoven and Mozart, though not entire pieces. After the initial shock of her aptitude, the other guild member itched to dance and laugh and cheer, so Wyeth transitioned into happy, quick tunes that lightened the mood. Makarov joined his brats with a prideful smile.
Wyeth's heart was so light and warm, she thought her cheeks would break from her large smile. The sensations of warm acceptance, satisfaction, and closeness made her feel... Like magic. Her friends were magic, her life was magic, and her music was magic.
Her music was magic.
After hours of partying, an exhausted and sore Wyeth hugged the remaining adults goodnight and returned to her room, promising another day like that one.
Wyeth hurried to her room with a renowned vigor. She was eager to get to work with her meditation.
Wyeth had been holding her breath for Cana's arrival at Fairy Tail, but it was still shocking when she suddenly appeared. Gildarts had been speaking to Makarov in terms of farewell, since he was heading out for another job. Wyeth had known him since the age of two, but they never really got to speak very often. At first, she was too young to form words, but when she could, he always seemed to be leaving. He was of fan of her music, however, and sometimes requested some songs on the piano. Wyeth played often, almost everyday. She kept tabs on the songs he liked and played them when he happened to be there, before he even asked. He usually grinned and winked at her, like they were sharing a secret. Wyeth liked him.
"Don't be reckless," Makarov reminded the Mage. Gildarts grinned at him cheekily, hoisting his bag over his shoulder and readjusting his cloak.
"See ya, Gramps," he said, ruffling Wyeth's hair when he passed her on her piano. She nodded up at him and he walked out the doors. Wyeth had gone back to tinkering with a rift inside her head, but Wakaba caught her attention.
"Looks like Gildarts had another fan!" He hooted with laughter.
He lead a timid Cana out from the bushes she had been hidden in. She stumbled after him, reluctantly accepting his offer for a meal (on him).
Cana had been six, just like Wyeth, so the two bonded almost instantly. They were both little girls who spent the majority of their time in a guild meant for adults, so how could they not?
Cana's retelling of her mother's death was heartbreaking, but Cana was a strong girl, and she never dwelled on one thing for too long. Wyeth wondered if she should tell Cana that she knew her secret, since she sort of felt like she was invading her privacy, but she decided to stay out of the matter all together. That was Cana's struggle, and it helped make her into herself. Something that huge was altering, and bringing it up could have premature actions. That couldn't happen, not just because of Wyeth's presence; she wouldn't allow it.
Wyeth grew closer and closer to Cana, and soon all woes were forgotten.
Gray's arrival had not gone as smoothly. Wyeth had not been expecting him. She was so sure that the Take-Over Sibling had been their before him, and she really regretted not digging up the exact details.
He was just how she remembered him; he was was loud and abrasive, but also light hearted and... Mostly naked. Wyeth had seen naked men before, so a child was nothing to her, but Makarov still hit Gray when he stripped all the down after an hour of being introduced to everyone. Apparently, Wyeth's virgin eyes had been tainted, but her nonchalant demeanor had the other witness shaking their heads.
"I'll bet she's seen gramps naked during his sponge baths," Lilith chuckled loudly, purposely allowing Makarov to hear. He ceased giving Gray a full-fledge nuggie (with pants on) and glared at her. She forced her laugh to go even louder.
"Stupid old-fart!" Gray jumped in, rubbing his sore head.
Makarov enlarged his fist and whacked the newcomer into the air. "Shut up, you Purity Wrecker!" Makarov returned. The two argued similarity until Macao broke them up, claiming to be neutral and unbiased while hinting towards Gray's point of view. He sat a fuming Makarov down for a timeout while he introduced Gray to the rest of the Guild hall. Wyeth let him press a few noted on her piano, a privilege few had obtained, causing Makarov to cry out in protest. Wyeth just laughed robotically, hinting that she had done it to take Gray's side with a glint in her eye, like Macao. The Mage stood behind her and laughed in the same way.
It was a light-hearted day, and Wyeth knew it was something that the new coming Gray had needed.
He appeared just like the boy she had etched onto the countertop years ago, although that had been quite cartoonish. His hair was spiked in all directions and his necklace was nestled onto his chest.
It was almost ironic that it happened while she thought about the episode for the first time in many months. Just like before, Wyeth was fine one moment, and not the next. She stood next to Macao, adding in details about the guild hall so that Gray could get used to its layout. In an instant, her vision went black and images flew through her head. She couldn't decipher them.
Suddenly Macao, Gray, Cana, and Makarov were leaning over her, concerned. The entire guild hall was silent with baited breaths. Makarov sat her up, careful of her bloody hands. Wyeth caught a glimpse of the image carved into the floorboard.
A girl clad in armor stared back at her, her left eye bandaged and a sword in her hand. She stood strong and tall, but on the floor, it looked like a doll had been dropped. Her long hair had been carved out entirely, in lieu of being outlined. It was filled with blood, like a pool, giving the girl striking scarlet hair.
Erza Scarlet.
"I'm taking her to Porlyusica," Makarov declared to Macao. The older man had scooped Wyeth up in enlarged arms, gaining confused glances from the others.
Wyeth didn't have a chance to tell him that she was fine. He was out the door in seconds, leaving behind a worried Cana and a speechless Gray.
Wyeth was grateful of Porlyusica's skill in the art of healing. Her hands were only a little numb by the next day. After Gray's arrival, things at Fairy Tail grew a little more lively. With the acceptance of four children, three eight year-olds and a twelve year-old, Fairy Tail was suddenly known as the young guild. Even when outsiders gave Makarov crap about endangering children, especially orphans, the other Fairy Tail Mages jumped to his defense and credibility. It was like one, big, rambunctious, happy family.
Porlyusica sighed, rubbing her temples. In her tree cottage, the healing Mage spent most of her time in solitude. She was rarely asked to use her abilities. Even Makarov had reserves about asking for her help, thanks to her request and his wisdom. She was grateful that he understood to give her her space, but during other issues, the Guild master's sharpness was bothersome. He just wouldn't believe her when she told him to drop it, that there was nothing she could do about the visions, and that they shouldn't be too dangerous. While the child had, more or less, done as she had hoped and had brushed this second vision off has she had the first. Makarov, however, was not easily abated. He was constantly guessing what she was thinking, constantly knowing what she knew. She couldn't afford slipping up, not now. She'd have to be careful.
Wyeth was nine when she met Erza. Similarity with Gray, the red-head just arrived one day. Makarov had already taken care of the details, so she was introduced as a new Fairy Tail member rather than an outsider. Wyeth was dumbstruck by her beauty; her hair was vivid and her skin was fair. She was only ten, and she could have been a tame supermodel.
Wyeth had forgotten the introverted personality Erza had had when she was first accepted into the guild, and it came as quite a shock to her when her handshake was ignored. Wyeth had given the older girl her name and hand, only to be met with silence. She dropped her hand awkwardly, playing with the hem of her skirt. Suddenly, interacting with one of the characters she had adored the most for years was something she dreaded. Like with Cana, Wyeth felt like she was invading Erza's privacy. After seeing her depressed state, Wyeth knew she wouldn't want anyone to know about the tower. Especially not someone she had barely said two words to. Wyeth felt like she could somehow fix this by not pressuring a friendship out of the poor girl, at least not until her emotional scars had healed. Or her physical ones, as her eye was still gone underneath the medical patch. Wyeth felt sorry for such a defeated looking girl, but she tried not to show any pity. She treated Erza with kindness, but she didn't try to make her feel better or break away from her state.
As it turned out, Wyeth didn't really have to worry for very long. Sometime after Erza's eye had been flawlessly replaced (save for its lack of ability to produce tears), Gray had broken the girl's protective shell. Wyeth didn't know how he had done it, as it had been in private, but she was okay with that.
Erza approached her, her hand outstretched this time. She asked Wyeth if they could start over, and the strength gleaming in her eyes made Wyeth's heart soar. She agreed and the two became friends.
Erza loved music quite a bit; she just had little talent for it. Wyeth attempted to teach her the simple basics of Piano, using methods she had acquired from college for her career as a teacher. But Wyeth had still been new to her job and didn't have much practice under her belt, and Erza was a problem-case. She couldn't keep a beat to save her life.
Thankfully, Erza seemed to gradually realize this, and was totally accepting of the fact. After some bonding over useless lessons, she and Wyeth would hysterically laugh and make jokes about it. Wyeth was a very quiet and observatory girl, many had believed, and her behavior was a tad out of character. Over time, the two had an audience out of the guild, and soon everyone was learning the basics of piano.
Wyeth was flushed with joy, because she cared for these people deeply, and she had the honor of retaining the job in her old life that had been her whole world. Fairy Tail had many noise complaints racking up from the music played every night.
Everyone's happiness seemed epitomized when Macao and his wife Hannah finally had a child together. Macao spoke of him often, bringing him to the guild practically every other day. Wyeth was so happy for him, and she knew how great of a kid their son would grow up to be.
By the year X777, Wyeth had been well prepared to meet Natsu Dragneel for the first time; heck, she was excited to.
She had believed, up until that year, that the Strauss siblings were to be a part of Fairy Tail before the Salamander. However, time had run out for that. Not to mention, Wyeth had had another episode. She was up in her room at the time, braiding her hair to sleep in, when, just like before, she had woken up after a flash of colors. Luckily, she had been writing some notes in one of her music book that was at the foot of her bed, so a pencil had been available. Apparently, she used whatever means and mediums that were available.
Wyeth flipped through the sheet music, stopping when she saw the page she had attacked. Natsu Dragneel stared back at her. It was a difficult decision, but Wyeth opted to not tell Makarov about this vision. She didn't want to worry him, and besides, she hadn't damaged her hands at all. But she still tried to decipher her episodes.
Obviously there had to have been some sort of a pattern or trigger for these episodes, but she couldn't think of anything similar in all three attacks. But, when she thought about what they could mean... Hadn't the people she had drawn joined Fairy Tail in the same order? Why hadn't she drawn Cana? Wyeth was determined to come to a conclusion, but no matter how hard she thought, she couldn't solve anything.
Natsu, while a very memorable person, fit into Fairy Tail seamlessly. Despite what he believed, he and Gray quickly became brothers. Erza was someone he looked up to unconditionally, and he constantly wanted to fight her. She had received quite the reputation for her abilities. Natsu wasn't exactly jumping to fight Wyeth like he was with Erza. In fact, the two got off to a rocky start. Not that they disliked each other, they just didn't click right away. They both made assumptions about the other and never attempted to break the ice.
They didn't talk, not until after the future Salamander had called one of her songs boring, causing a huge uproar. Wyeth had been straight faced through the whole thing, even when Macao gave him a punch in the head. The boy refused to apologize, but Wyeth's small voice rose up and reprimanded him.
"Music is never boring," she scolded, and then she proceeded to play the same exact song, despite Macao's reassurances that Natsu didn't mean it. It was a short rift, and each time she went through it, she started over, speeding up each and every time. The song grew into a new one almost entirely, and soon the whole crowd was clapping to it and whooping. It ended with a crash and a rush of adrenaline.
Natsu never apologized, and the two didn't talk much, but he and Wyeth had come to somewhat of an understanding; they were both pretty cool, and any member of Fairy Tail is a member of their family.
Finally, in the same year that Natsu had joined, three new children had been accepted into Fairy Tail.
The Strauss siblings took the place by storm, adding another element of closeness. Even when it seemed like Mirajane was constantly at odds with Erza (the two were an awesome sight), they just seemed to up the air of healthy competition and rivalry. Gray and Natsu really thrived off that particular vibe, and the both worked to be stronger to beat out the other. They helped each other improve. At age eleven, the same age as Elfman, Wyeth found herself bonding with the boy. She liked Lisanna and Mirajane (sometimes) just fine, but the younger sister was practically attached to Natsu's hip (and vice versa) and heaven forbade the Demon Mira actually liked anyone, so Wyeth did not spend time with them anymore than others. Elfman, however, was soft spoken, the opposite of how Wyeth had seen him in her old life. He just meshed well with her, since she was also quiet and hardly spoke out. For an eleven year old boy, Wyeth admitted, he was very clean and polite.
And he was familiar with the piano, which was probably why Wyeth was drawn to him in the first place. He was quite talented, especially for a true eleven year old, and Wyeth recognized him by allowing full access to her grand Piano in the guild hall. It was an honor that the adult Mages assured the boy was nearly impossible to achieve, which made Elfman blush.
Eventually, with the awakening and development of his Take-Over abilities, Elfman grew more and more outgoing, and he gradually adopted his 'man' mantra. He was still the same lovable oaf, but suddenly Wyeth wasn't his only friend anymore. That made her proud, and happy.
What didn't make her happy was her predicament with Laxus.
She should have been expecting how he had slowly distanced himself from the guild, and she knew it was something that would've happened whether she had been in this world or not, but his sudden coldness felt personal. She knew it was coming, but she wasn't prepared.
The blonde had visited less and less over the years, and had grow moodier as a teenager. At sixteen, Laxus only spoke to Wyeth maybe once a week, and it wasn't with his old sibling why; when he insulted her, he meant to hurt her feelings. It deeply troubled Wyeth. He often commented on her appearance, calling her flat chested and plain. Wyeth knew she shouldn't take it to heart, since her body was only eleven and hadn't fully developed yet, but it still hurt her feelings. Every time Laxus mentioned how she looked, she spent days absorbed in her mirror.
While she appeared more or less like her past self, she was more hygienic and kept. She still felt like a thirty-six year old, with a freeing body and little responsibility, of course, so she felt plain without make-up. She had, however, promised herself to avoid getting into the stuff this time around, save special occasions, so she didn't do much to put down Laxus' claims. This made her more self-conscious than she would have liked to admit.
Laxus' attitude only got worse when his father Ivan was excommunicated. Makarov neglected to share the details of why he did that to his own son, but Wyeth knew it was painful for him, so she didn't pry. Laxus, however, was furious.
Makarov broke the shocking news to the two of them together, in his office. Wyeth had just finished training, and was happy to take a seat when Makarov asked them to sit. Laxus stood by the wall and leaned on it, his arms crossed. He was dressed in a plain tee and dark jeans, and his signature, spiked head phones were covering his ears, momentarily turned off. Wyeth wondered what he liked to listen to.
It already seemed that Laxus was aware of Ivan's status, which wasn't that surprising since he had probably already spoken to his father. Wyeth didn't act surprised when Makarov told her the dark man was no longer part of the guild. She could tell how sensitive Makarov must have been, and something that serious was not something she dared to lie about in any form. If her adoptive father thought anything was strange by her reaction, he didn't point it out. Then again, Wyeth was pretty mellow about most things.
Wyeth was still when somehow the tense conversation had been hijacked. Laxus had inserted himself and turned some obviously pent up anger towards Makarov, stealing the attention for himself. Wyeth knew he was just a kid, and he didn't understand how much his words hurt his grandfather, but it was hard to remember that when he dragged her into his rant.
"Everybody's been looking at me through rose-colored glasses since I was a kid, just 'cause I'm your grandson. It doesn't matter what the hell I do, it's always 'Well, he's Makarov's grandson,' and 'His grandfather is the master of Fairy Tail, after all'... I never get any proper credit for anything!"
Makarov rolled his gray mustache in his fingers. "You're thinking about this way too much. 'Proper Credit' is a remarkably difficult thing for anyone in this world to achieve," he added lightly, trying to appease his grandson.
Laxus ignored him. "It pisses me off enough without you adding that shame on me..." the scarred blonde said in reference to his father. "Don't you have any damn feelings?" he demanded. Makarov looked away, his face set in a grimace.
Laxus wasn't satisfied with just silence. "Why the hell did you excommunicate my dad, dammit!?" he pressed.
Makarov closed his eyes, and it was a long while before he finally answered, in a quiet voice. "He is a danger to the guild.
"Okay, so he's done a lot of stupid things! But he's your son, isn't he!? He's family, dammit!" Laxus retaliated with fire.
"Family or not," Makarov was quick to come back, "I cannot allow a man who endangers the lives of his comrades to be a member of this guild. Like the generation before, I will protect this guild; that is the way of Fairy Tail," he said, finalizing his decision.
Laxus scoffed. "You have no idea how my dad feels! You abandoned him. Worse, you replaced him, with some...!" Laxus shoot towards Wyeth in her seat, who had been a silent spectator during the whole argument. "You replaced him with a defective, heartless bitch of a child, who not even her parents wanted!"
Wyeth's eyes grew wide, and a sharp pain hit her right in the chest. Her heart broke. Not because of what he said about her 'parents', (because who knew if she actually had them in this world) but what he had spat about her being defective. Defective. He may as well have called her hideous and useless, or spit in her face.
"She's not our blood; she's an outsider! And yet, you treat her better than you've ever treated your real family. How do think that makes your son feel, when you blatantly love someone else more than him?"
Wyeth wished Laxus would have stopped at her defectiveness. Her heart had been ripped to shreds before, but now he was just stomping on it; it was over kill. Wyeth couldn't even wonder what her face looked like. She felt numbness chase the pain away, and she just sat there, just as quiet as before.
"Laxus!" Makarov tried to interrupt, his voice hot with rage.
"What?! Are you gonna kick me out too?!" He spat. "Not like that'll do anything! I'll just join the guild my dad founded!" He spun toward the door on his heel.
Makarov appeared shocked, and Wyeth realized that he hadn't known of Raven Tail yet. "The guild he... Founded?" he echoed. His eyes widened. "D-do you mean to say you know where he is right now!?"
Laxus kept on his way to the door. "What do you care. You're the one who chased him away," he grimaced.
Makarov jumped up in a panic. "He has very sensitive information about Fairy Tail! We must find him or the guild could be in grave danger!" he cried.
Laxus didn't heed his words or tone. He was already at the door, his hand gripping the handle.
As if as in an after thought, he looked over his shoulder one last time.
"I'm going to surpass you..." he swore. "Not for my, not for anyone else... For myself!"
His eyes flicked to Wyeth one last time, but she hardly noticed. She was blinded by something wet pouring silently down her cheeks; something she knew but wasn't familiar with. She closed her lids so she didn't have to see Laxus' face again, and when she opened them again, he was gone.
Then she really wailed. Nothing Makarov said could cure her shattered heart. Eventually, she just went to bed in her room and cried there.
By the next year, when he was seventeen, Laxus had achieved S-class status. He hadn't quite fulfilled his vow to surpass Makarov just yet, but he was getting there. Every time Wyeth saw him, he grew more and more arrogant, and that terrible pain would reappear in her chest. She would never look him in the eye for too long, or go out of her way to talk to him like she use to. Laxus seemed to pick up on her new behavior, and occasionally he would pause in his speech, like he wanted to say something, but it always went unsaid.
Eventually, Laxus sometimes went entire visits without barely saying anything to Wyeth. Or was it Wyeth who didn't talk to him? It was hard to tell, but it bothered the twelve year-old to no end. The two had been best friends for years, and suddenly they were tense in the other's presence. As much as she wanted to go back to their old ways, Wyeth never confronted him, and Laxus never brought it up.
Wyeth threw herself into her training, developing her magical abilities even farther. While she had a tough time in the physical department, such as running or hand-to-hand combat, she had a wide array of spells. Her supply of power was large as well, but when she compared herself to the other children, she was dissatisfied. She knew she was well above average, especially for a twelve year old, but Fairy Tail was filled with monsters. Wyeth shuddered for the fate of anyone who angered Gray, or Natsu. Their raw power was astonishing.
While Wyeth was friends with everyone, she was almost like the designated introvert. Even when she wasn't playing, she sat at her piano rather than one of the tables. She hardly ever spoke up, and shied away from conversations. The other Mages didn't take anything into offense, thankfully, and understood that was just the way she was. No one ever outed her, and a steady stream of teasing (mostly thanks to Macao) kept her involved and close.
The addition of Happy to the family was a... Happy one. Not only was he a fantastical specimen of the feats of magic, but he was a bundle of personality. He became the child of Fairy Tail, almost like a mascot, but still one of the family.
If it wasn't for Happy, Wyeth wasn't sure the Salamander would've made it through Lisanna's supposed death.
To be honest, Wyeth had completely forgotten about the whole thing. When she had first met the youngest Strauss, of course it had been the only thing she thought and worried about. When she talked with Elfman, it was something she always had in the back of her mind. But time had rolled forward at such a slow pace that Wyeth had begun to let her guard down.
She tried to be there for the remaining two Strauss siblings, but she felt so guilty. She saw their grief, and how changed MiraJane had become, and she couldn't help but believe that she could have prevented it. She could just have warned Elfman not to use his Take-over on something like that beast, or she could have told him that Lisanna was still alive. But she was silent, as only a shoulder to cry on.
Who said she had to follow the anime?
Thanks for checking this out!
So because I'm not continuing this, (****There is still a possibility that I will) I am willing to answer any questions about the future, if you were just DYING to know! Just review or shoot me a PM.
Also, I'm not opposed to the idea of adopting this out.