X696
Fiore
It's a sunny, pleasant day in Fiore, a country blessed with temperate climate.
Although, the forest beneath the blue sky, the one Zeref is moving through, is one of those places which have no palpable reason to exist. The unnatural mist that swirled and sprawled on the forest floor spoke of a strange sort of wrongness. The white substance seemed to possess liquid properties. The smoke made no sound, and only parted to swallow up his feet as he marched through the forest. There were whispers of dead leaves under the mist that reminded him of what atrocities he had done to nature. The forest that was so alive moment ago now chills him, the trees are now no more than lifeless sticks of charcoal.
It's been six years since they parted, and time really did pass by quickly, when he'd spent it all in Alakitasia. Yet, Ishgar never fail to remind him that he is not welcome here every time he returned. Without Lelouch here to subdue the curse, it is just the same as before, the world would reject him as it always did.
He should've listened to Lelouch, and remains in Alakitasia, until they convene again, but there are things that Ishgar have that he has been searching for over hundreds of years.
Acceptance.
Zeref let out a sigh when he'd spotted the slim ray of sunlight from the edge of the forest. His tense body relaxed as the black curse faded away, sparing him a moment of relief as he strode away from his wretched destruction.
Imagine his shock, when he ran into the person he least expected to meet the moment he made his exit.
A genuinely sweet smile greeted him, sending a wave of unexpected warmth rushing through his body. "The Black Wizard from back then!"
"Mavis..." He whispered numbly.
With all of her distinctive childish quality, she made a run toward him with a resounding 'yay'.
"Wa-wait! You remember my curse, don't you?"
"Of course!"
Further protest died in his throat, when she wrapped her arms around his body.
"It was because of you that we won." She said happily, "It was because of you that I was able to save my friends."
It was then, that the moment he took in her unchanging lithe frame, that he noticed it. A sense of dread began to rise within him.
Enca
"Human children are perfectly sized for some of the slimmer crevices in our mines. And I think about this."
"Aiken, child labour is not a productive use of the workforce." Lelouch said in a monotonous tone, shuffling through the documents. "I prefer healthy adults, literate and alive as my workers. A long-term growth far outweighs your suggestion."
"Why, I must disagree, I find it very profitable-"
"There's the matter of cultural difference, the High Council find the use of children quite appalling."
"You humans." Came a high-pitched scoff.
Lelouch sighed, taking his eyes off the documents, turning to the voice. "We had this conversation before, Aiken. You are a mouse..."
On his table, stood the most dignified mouse in the known world. Soft snow fur, a pair of large ear, a pair of pristine black orb, triangular head, and a narrow, small muzzle. There's also the monocle, the top hat, and a luxurious black suit that covered its four centimetres body.
This is Aiken, a diamond tycoon, and one of the founders of the Austellus Merchant Guild.
"...I do pity the poor sod that had mistaken you for a rat."
Aiken's long, thin tail curled around his body as he continues to grumble in annoyance.
"Tea?" Lelouch offered, a tray of tea and assortment of sweets floating toward him as he speaks.
"No milk."
How could a mouse speak, and became the most powerful figure in the Austellus' mining industry?
Well…
"Tch, do not give me that condescending look." An annoyed squeak snapped at him.
"Are you sure you hadn't ought to rethink your behaviour?"
"It's truly astounding how many ways you find to waste our coins."
"Coins which you would not have, had I been elsewhere."
"Safety regulations, minimum wages, free medical services, public schools..." The little tycoon ranted rapidly, "It pains me every time the thought crossed my mind."
Lelouch sipped his tea calmly, then propped himself up, taking a step toward the window. Aiken appeared on his shoulder with a nonchalant pop, still looking miffed.
"Our people are our assets, cogs in a machine." He began, "Their well-being and education are necessities, even if we care little for benevolence and kindness. Three out of ten people could read in Ishgar, whilst within Austellus' territory that number is eight. Soon, the blunder of illiteracy will be eliminated, along with it ignorance and stupidity."
"Skilled, efficient and intelligent they might become, but what use is that if they grow complacent and idle with all their needs cared for?"
The luxurious, silky curtains swept open with a wave of his hand, where the sequin-silver stars like scattered embers of a dying fire illuminate the inky sky. "Have you noticed any oddities among the oligarchy that run this republic?"
Aiken paused for a good while, "We utilise a different language, hold exceedingly radical ideas from the norm than most nations in Ishgar."
"Radical for this world, yes." He replied evenly, Aiken has proven itself a clever and shrewd creature, unlike the mindless beasts born from Zeref's power.
"You intend to incorporate the culture and values of your world to the republic's."
"Perhaps not to that extent, but that is my intention." confirmed Lelouch, "The civilisations of this world pale in comparison to mine. I would pluck the best part of the civilisations I am familiar with, East Asian, European and Britannian, for the republic. I am crafting an identity that is distinct from Earth Land."
"Their drive won't be their individual needs, but their shared identity?" The rodent mused.
"From commerce, industry, science, magic, art, music to cuisine and culture. Excellence, mastery and superiority will be expected of us, it will become natural to associate the Republic and its citizens with brilliance. Our navy will rule the waves, our army the most disciplined, our workers the most productive…"
"I see."
"So, do shut up about our investments in our denizens."
Aiken's eyes twitched, "And there's this absurd rumour that you would step down two years from now-"
"It's true." He spared a brief glance to the cofounder, "What of it?"
"I am not at all concerned by it, regardless of how impolitic it may be, leaving seven years early..." muttered Aiken irritably, "…not that it matters whether you hold a seat on the High Council or not. The question is, where will you go?"
"Wherever I fancy."
"Give a proper answer, wherever you go, I have to follow."
"Couldn't you stay here and enjoy the fruit of our labour?" Lelouch smiled, "I'd wager that you prefer it over anything else."
"Did you already forget?" The mouse raised a brow, "You infused me, with, god forbid, the same runes Zeref bloody Dragneel created his demons. I cannot leave your side, otherwise-"
"Ah." He shook his head in disappointment, "I had expected so much more."
Aiken twitched in wordless outrage, before a stream of profanity and curse exploded at him a moment later, although he couldn't really make out much of it with the high-pitched squeaking.
Aiken is a product of curiosity and was nothing more than a rodent on a pirate's ship years ago. The prospect of creating life was fascinating to him then, seeing what Zeref is capable of. It became apparent soon enough however, that such ability is reserved for Zeref alone, who spent his whole life to research sequences and patterns of Ethernano and brought them together. His effort enables him to create life, and Zeref paid dearly for it.
Still, the deterrence was not powerful enough. He had given up on creating life, but he desired a particular part of the spell, the part which bring consciousness to an animal, an object. Who wouldn't want a kettle that boils itself, or a clock that wakes one up gently instead of ringing maddeningly?
He didn't know however, whether toying around with a potentially dangerous and powerful spell would bring fourth the apocalypse by messing with the law of the universe or not, but he did it anyway. Perhaps this is why humans are so dangerous, attempting to control what they know not.
Then again, who wouldn't hesitate before opening the gate to Armageddon?
Naturally, he needed a test subject, a lab rat, literally.
He hadn't given much thought, and simply plucked a mouse off an old ship and write down the magic glyphs. He had poured quite a bit of power into the spell, leaving him exhausted for days, and lo and behold, when the foul-mouthed language of a sailor came crashing down on him from the mouse. It was a bit peeved by what he had done, and somehow created a maelstrom just right out of the dock. Even now he is still unsure as to what the mouse is fully capable of.
Perhaps he should've cut the 'granting incredibly destructive power' part out of the runes, too.
"Zeref!?" asked Mavis incredulously, "The infamous Zeref, that's who you really are!?"
He gave a strained smile, "Yes, that's why I didn't want to tell you my name."
There is an inkling of suspicion that prods at him, urging him to get right onto addressing the matter. However, rushing it without context would only serve to panic Mavis.
"There are rumours that say you've been living for over 300 years..." She hesitated to finish the question, "Um... Is that..."
"It has really been that long, hasn't it?" Zeref chuckled.
"You're nothing like the rumours say."
"If it's bad rumour, they are probably true."
"No..." She smiled at him brightly, her emerald orbs were almost radiant, "Your eyes are so kind, I don't believe any of it. Not one bit."
Zeref heart jumped, a foreign warmth spreading about within his body. He mustered a smile of his own, "You are far too innocent."
It felt nice. It's been so long since the last time he'd felt anything that resemble this feeling that he struggled to find any other word than nice. He had forgotten what the word even means, and what it feels like to receive a smile like this.
His one and only friend rarely smile, and when he does, it is simply out of courtesy, an empty one. The only moments that Lelouch ever shown any true contentment at all, is in the form of his condescending smirk.
Now that he'd mentioned it...
"Did Lelouch visit you after your battle, Mavis?"
"He did..." Mavis, oddly, simply look puzzled. She then pulled out a tiny hourglass, "It was just right before Fairy Tail was founded. He gave me this, he said it's for measuring time, but there should be more than just that."
"Did you manage to find out anything else?" Zeref narrowed his eyes at the runes carved onto it. Elegant, cursive and overly complicated.
Mavis pouted, "All I could find out is that it can shrink and enlarge to whichever size the holder prefers."
The Dark Mage stared at it for a long while, and he is certain now that this is Lelouch's work.
Runes in one in many aspects of magic that Lelouch took a liking to, because it requires little physical effort to make use of it. His designs are always veiled in many layers, as to hide the true purpose of the runes, and his uncanny mastery over the flow of Ethernano allows him to over-engineered it all without repercussion.
Still, he was the one who tutored Lelouch in this particular art.
"This series of runes are of Mildian origin, its purpose is to measure the lifespan of its owner." Zeref mumbled, his voice dry. "The sand will disappear gradually, until there is nothing left."
"It's been 10 years since I received it...?" Mavis tilted her head questioningly, "The sand's still the same."
"You've stopped growing since you used Law, haven't you?" The mage said, his suspicions confirmed, "You've become... ageless and immortal. Just like me."
"Wha-?" asked Mavis, her eyes wide.
"You made a life-or-death choice using Law, given the circumstances at the time." Zeref continued, "You defied the same god that cursed me, and bring back the soul that is meant to be his. This is the curse of Ankhseram, the more you hold life precious, the more..."
"That's not true!" Mavis protested. Yuri was still alive when the Jade consumed him, he's not-
Her eyes widened, 'I don't know whether he was alive or not back then...'
"I... the people around me are fine!" She muttered, voice trembling, "No one has... died."
"For now, yes, that may be true, but..." Zeref mused, "Right, there was a war that ended just recently. War dulls one's ethical and moral attitude towards life. Because of the war, your attitude towards the living is currently in flux."
"That's... No way!" She was all but shouted.
"You are yet unaware of the true preciousness of life." He pressed on, the earlier she realises her fate the better, "And the day you become aware of it, those around you will begin to disappear."
Sweat started streaming down her face, her body shaking as though the harsh winter of Pergrande has swallowed her whole. "Lelouch..."
"He knows." The Dark Mage gave her a gaze full of sympathy and sadness, "I had an inkling, hearing that you'd used Law. Lelouch dissuaded me from contacting you, perhaps he did not want you to discover your curse so soon."
"Why do you say such terrible things..."
"Because that is the truth."
She bit her lips, "I... I thought you..."
With a blank smile worthy of Lelouch's, Zeref replied, "Have you come to understand just how accurate those rumours are now?"
Mavis had enough right then, fleeing away from the mage tearfully.
'It's not true!' She thought, anger seeping into her, 'I will not believe a single word!'
"You are yet unaware of the true preciousness of life."
'No! Life is precious! To be treasured! I know this!' The thoughts rang in her mind as she fled through Magnolia, 'I am fully aware! I know exactly how precious the lives of my beloved friends are…'
"Pull out his nail."
The order was accompanied with a maddening screech. Blood began dripping down the man's finger, onto the damp floor. The figure heaved, his chalky face gaunt.
"One stubborn cunt, aren't you?" The shadowed figure flashed a ghost of a smile. "Another."
There was a small clank as the tool squeezed down, the metal was heavy, and cold. The pull was nothing more than a sudden jerk, and the man felt nothing more than a paralysing jolt of electric at the tip of his finger, no, the worse part came right after. The scream was the sort that send a shiver down one's spine, it had a raw quality, a realness of a person consumed in pain, echoing down the dark, cold, empty hallway.
"Another."
"S-stop! I'll tell you everything, just-"
"You could've just screamed out the answer instead of begging. A waste of my fucking time… Now, where is it?"
"There's an uninhabited island north of Enca, a day of sailing if the wind is favourable, my accomplices..." The man uttered weakly, panting. "...they're hiding there, in a cavern on the western edge of the island."
"All this hassle over some spies..."
The figure's hand, hovering over its pocket mere seconds ago, disappeared. With a flash of steel, it shoved a dagger into the man's eyes.
Another figure emerged from behind the corpse. "Now, which one of us is going to tell the young master that we'd let one of the Magic Council's dog slipped into the island, into Glacius, at the heart of the city no less?"
"We did find where the rest is hiding, we'll be fine."
"Not when you interrupt him while he's bedding daughters of those fancy Lords from Minstrel."
"Networking he said." Came an audible sigh. "Right, rock paper scissors. Whoever loses will report to Walsingham. It won't be nice, it won't be pleasant, but much nicer than what you might get from the young master."
"Fine, fine, get on with it."
"Come in, Walsingham."
The double door creaked open, and the hooded figure strode in. His eyes swept the room, immaculate mat lining the floor, hanging chandelier glowing dimly. The couch is inlaid with a fine green silk; leaves embroidered so delicately that they might have landed there in spring and just sunk in. He's afraid to even sit in case he wrinkled the fabric. The white curtains are linen, its colour white, devoid of dust.
As his sight set on the bed, in the centre of it all, he came to a sudden halt, frozen in his steps.
"Chairman." He bowed, eyes glancing at the dried blood, a knife embedded through the blanket, a slender arm hanging loosely in the air by the side of the mattress.
"Pity, I enjoyed her company."
"I see that we've missed the second one." He straightened himself, peering at his master. Wrapped in a bathing robe, seated by the window, sipping at the glass of wine, unfazed of it all.
"I wonder how successful they were in their attempt on Zeref." Lelouch mused, letting out a mirthless chuckle.
"They aren't here for you." He replied, shuffling about the floor, his face obscured by an ethereal veil of darkness. "Humans fear the unknown. It has been six years since the formation of the Republic, and we're a dark spot on the map of the Magic Council. There are no mage guilds, legal or otherwise, within the territory of the Republic. We have been expecting their arrival for some time now."
With a quiet squeak, an armchair slid into place, facing his seat, pushed by an invisible force.
Helping himself to the seat, he accepted the glass offered to him with a curt nod. "You should stop bringing every attractive wench you see into your bed, it's dangerous."
"Blame the tedium of winter nights." Lelouch muttered, his eyes growing glassy, "Isn't it useful? All I have to do is utter a few soft words and share their bed to have them wound around my finger."
"Few can match you in deceit and deception, you're learning the art of seduction well…"
"It was a much simpler affair, bringing ruins to those who once ruled this land, and navigating the rotten aristocracy with such tools." Lelouch nodded.
"…little by little, you will reach the point where you can no longer tell which face you were wearing."
The young master fell silent, and he continued.
"Deceive others and yourself, eventually you will lose sight of your real self. As time pass by, you won't be able to remember what your feelings for someone are sincere or you are faking them."
"It's unsettling when a spy like you get all philosophical." Came a snide remark, to which he simply chuckled in response. "My agents are getting sloppy, she uncovered quite a bit, and had most of the documents delivered to her accomplices as well."
Always speaking with such certainty, as though he already knew it all… not that he was ever wrong.
"Not at all, they are sending the best they've got. They are getting impatient, after the fourth group have gone silent. After this attempt, they'll stop, they can't afford to waste talented mages for espionage operations in which they are hopelessly outmatched."
"Ah, I've never doubted the capabilities of your network of spies and the expertise of those under your employ." Lelouch returned assuredly, "It must be bizarre for them."
He nodded. "Every mage is under the Republic's employ, and the nature of their work isn't strictly combat. They accept no quests, their generous salaries paid for by the Republic."
"Any fool with half a mind could see the usage of magic goes far beyond combat." Lelouch scoffed, "The quest and reward system are horribly inefficient, any combat-oriented mages would serve in the navy and the army directly. I will not have precious time wasted waiting for mages scraping off papers on a wall, any problem will be dealt with quickly and decisively by the armed force."
"Magic will be molded to be a weapon for one to wield, it is inevitable. Every mage in the world relies on their power to feed themselves, and the quests they've got are mostly violence jobs." Walsingham tilted the glass, and the red liquid seemingly disappeared into the pit of darkness.
"There lies the problem, the segregation of mages from the society at large. Our mages choose their own path, they are where they are out of their own accord. Wielding magic over earth doesn't necessitates one to weaponize such power, they could choose to use it for plowing fields for all I care. They are citizens of the Republic, no different than any other."
Cloaked and hooded, Walsingham simply stared.
Magic have always been an exceptional thing, only one in ten people in the world may possess such a gift. It is only natural, for one to join a guild upon the discovery of their unusual talent. It is more prestigious, more rewarding, to be a mage of a guild than a farmer.
Such system often breeds complacent, for example, it became the norm for a merchant to save a part of his funds in order to employ mages for protection against banditry and other mages. It is the duty of the Kingdoms of Ishgar to ensure order and safety along the roads within their territory for the people, they have failed. The status quo also drives mages to injuries and death, engaging in perilous jobs to earn their living. One could theoretically survive with menial tasks, most simply chose not to. Violence upon violence…
Such was never the case for the Republic, where magic is beginning to become normality under Chairman Lelouch vi Britannia. Every professions are valued, from the clerks seated in an office to the cleaner sweeping the streets. Mages and magic is nothing more than another cog in the machine that further the Republic's agenda, they are no more exceptional than the farmers on the fields or the artisans in their workshops, and they will be treated no better or worse. One can see mages in every profession, utilising their powers in myriads of ways.
The order is kept not by hired mages but a professional peacekeeper force, paid and trained by the Republic, armed with experimental armours and weapons, enchanted with runes that shrug off and pierce all but A-Class Mages' attacks and defences. Expensive certainly, but the Republic can afford it. The force is small, but none can deny their effectiveness. In time, they will grow larger, their weapons and armours perfected, their trainings more effective.
As of now, the Magic Council claimed governance over all mages and is responsible for all events caused by mages. They are supported by most country in Ishgar, and their legitimacy is unquestioned. They have lost control over Enca, Midi and Sin, during the chaos in which the Republic was born. The Magic Council cannot force their way in and violate the sovereignty of a country, unless they were invited, or have the justification such as preventing dangerous mage outbreak by stepping in to keep the peace. So far, they have none, not because there isn't any, accidents happen all the time. For example, the existence of an entity known as Aiken.
Then there's Verdigris, Sablier, Enra… the other… accidents.
The Republic, while far from a utopia, is one in the making. Its existence is an anomaly that would attract unwanted attention, and it is his duty, their duty, to cloak it with shadows, to deceive the eyes of Ishgar until the High Council deemed it the right time to reveal itself to the world.
"How are you faring with your new form?" queried Lelouch.
"I can move, see, listen, speak and kill, that is sufficient. A dead man can ask for no more."
"I've invested a great deal of time in keeping your sense of taste intact."
"...I don't think it is necessary at all, I am grateful for the gesture-"
"Live to eat, not the other way around." said Lelouch sharply, "I trust you have discovered their location?"
It is an eerie sight, if not for the gloved fingers and silent steps of the leather boots, one would think the chairman was speaking to a floating cloak.
"I will wipe the rest out before the sun rises."
"I'll handle it myself." He stood up, the outfit of Julius Kingsley manifested from thin air with a snap of his fingers. "Might I trouble you with the corpse?"
Walsingham scribbled on a piece of paper, giving a knowing nod as he passes the note.
"There's another bottle inside the cabinet, help yourself."
"Gladly."
Ocean waves rolled in long and white fringed. He could make out the damp sand as the tides retreat into the endless blue sea. Behind the sand a think jungle, overhanging branches of the trees hid all behind an impenetrable wall of green, stretching as far as he could see.
He opened a compass, turning toward the west, and began strolling, his pace steady and relaxed.
"Four in the fucking morning…"
"Don't whine." Lelouch gave a light yawn, his eyes casted to the horizon, his attention held by a golden streak, piercing the charcoal sky.
"Well, hurry up then." The bundle of white let out a tired, sluggish voice, "We can't keep my storm going forever, do you know how many ships will be stuck in the port? It's bad for business. Why do we even need a storm anyway?"
"Your artificial storm disrupts the flow of magic. It would be an inconvenience if whatever they uncover somehow make its way into the Magic Council's hand. Thought projection or any sort of long distance communications, I won't risk it."
"I could keep this up in my bed." mumbled Aiken. "You could've sent that shady ghost."
"Now, don't you want to handle the utter wankstains that got us both out of bed yourself?"
"…no."
"Don't be slothful."
"Says who?"
He stopped, tapping into the air with his cane, sending a ripple through the veil of magic, before stepping through a barrier unobstructed. Humming absently, he made his way through the sand, into the jagged shore, the rocky outcrops where they meet the rushing waves. The water washed right through, as though he wasn't there, his body a ghostly apparition, and no sound accompanied his footsteps. Silently, he strode further inland, toward two silhouettes laying in the sand, snoring away, unaware of their doom.
In one swift motion, he pulled out the firearm he'd kept since the departure of his world. The runes on the barrel glowed with a shimmering black colour as he pulled the trigger, sending forth a bullet formed from the thirsting void of darkness, silent as the still wind. Whipping to the other, he pulled the trigger once again, spilling blood, splattering the sand with red.
"I want éclairs for breakfast." Aiken flopped down on his shoulder, peering at the cave resting against the rocky cliff.
"Prosciutto and grissini." He stopped speaking for a split second, continuing before the mouse protest, "…I'll get you a panna cotta with coulis instead."
"Reasonable."
Mavis smiled, her eyes on Yuri, the excitement that poured out him like sunshine through fine white linen. The smile that cracked his face hadn't been seen since the Second Trade War ended.
"He's perfect, Rita." Yuri beamed, he felt the urge to cry as he watches his new-born son, listening to his quiet, even breaths. His wife returned a loving smile, captivated by the child in her arms.
"I don't see why she had to give birth inside the guild hall." A fellow member commented.
"What can I say?" Yuri smiled, "Rita had her heart set on it."
"He should be here, stepping into the world and grows up with the love of everyone…" Rita panted silently, turning to Mavis, "We were hoping you'd name him, Master."
"Wh-what?! Me?!" Mavis stuttered.
Yuri simply nodded with a reassuring look.
"You can't leave it to us, we got nothin'!" Warrod said helplessly, his hand covering Precht's mouth.
With that, her attention returned to the new-born, snoozing away in his mother's embrace. She felt a strange sense of comfort that calmed her heart, sweeping away all the worries in her heart.
"Makarov." She spoke with absolute certainty, "It's from a book I read, the name belongs to a kind king."
"A good name." Rita agreed, sweat streaming down her tired face.
"Makarov!" Yuri repeated, lifting the child up into the air.
"Makarov then!" declared Warrod, and the child beamed as though in agreement, "From now on, your name is Makarov!"
"For the sake of his future…" Rita murmured, her voice growing quiet, her eyes closed "…we'll…"
"Yes." Mavis took Rita's hand in a tight grip, "We all will join hands for hi-"
Mavis eyes widened, the words stuck in her throat as the warmth of life were sucked out of Rita's hand. Her arm loosened as it fell, her body sank into the bed she lay upon, the sound of her low breath absent. The celebration died out, as shock painted their faces.
"Rita!" shouted Yuri, his happiness robbed by pure terror, "Hey, what's wrong?!"
"The delivery took too much out of her!"
"What!? She was fine a moment ago!"
'When you finally learn the true value of life, that it cannot be replaced…'
Her body trembled as Zeref's voice echoed in her mind, amidst their shouting and helpless cries for the woman long gone.
'…that is when the lives around you will be snuffed out.'
A foreign coldness seeps into her very core, her heart raced as dread filled the air. She could feel the jolts of pain in her chest as their tears dripped down the wooden floor.
Unable to bear it any longer, she fled.
Through the buildings, the paved road, the forest, she ran, her mind numbed. She fell to the ground, tripped over a root. She could see the green grass withered away, the flower petals blackened in the sunlight.
"No…" She choked, "Stop it…"
Her cries gone unnoticed as death comes to take its due, grasping at the trees, the leaves, the grasses, the animals that wandered too close, snatching it all away.
Far away, seated upon the desk of Fairy Tail's master, stands an hourglass. The colourful sand withered into the colour of ash, fading away. The symbols carved into the wooden stand glowed an eerie purple and turned black.
"Oi." Aiken called out, his head perked up, "What was that?"
Violent crashing waves pounded the rocky shoreline, the sea grew restless as the residue of ethernano swirled about the air. Where the cavern and the rocky cliff once was, is now a steep precipice
"I changed my mind." Lelouch flipped a pocket watch opened, the ticking hands stopped dead in its track. The cracks that rend the air in front of him receded as power drew back into the steel raven on his cane. "We leave for Fiore today."
"You are making that face again, when things don't go your way." Aiken smirked. The one that uplifted him into a higher form of being always have the penchant for precisions and plans. The steps he took were always meticulously planned and purposeful, he can count on one hand occasions where things have spiralled out Lelouch's control, where even his precaution plans weaved beneath also failed him.
For how often Lelouch lamented the absence of worthy opponents, intellectually or otherwise, and how sure he is of himself, it's truly entertaining watching him thrashing around when he'd failed himself.
He relaxed himself, leaning back, his eyes closed in anticipation of that uncomfortable squeeze whilst they squeezed through space toward Fiore.
Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into- what the actual fuck, it shouldn't take this long.
"Well, what are we waiting for?" He opened his eyes, throwing his partner a glance full of irritation.
Waking up so soon is already bad enough, and now his stomach is rumbling. Neither of them has time for this, imagine the coins spilling down the drain in the absence of his presence in the office!
"Zeref." cursed Lelouch, the magic glyph beneath his feet glowed for a split moment, before sizzling away. "There's a veil of magic…"
"Impressive." He whistled, his smirk widening into a grin, "No one has ever managed to stop you from ripping open time and space before, your field of expertise-"
"It's not that I couldn't do it." Lelouch interjected, scowling. The raven's eyes gleamed with a spark of green, and the reality split itself before their eyes. The insignia of Fairy Tail clearly seen from the other side. "I just can't step through."
Growing impatient, he hopped down from Lelouch's shoulder, the wind easing his way as he floats down. He strolled toward the gap, pushing his arms through as one would an open window. Sensing no resistance, he jumped, only to be repulsed by some sort of force field, throwing him away a good ten meters.
"Fucking arsestain! What sort of cockwomble-"
"Zeref must've prepared magic glyphs around Ishgar in anticipation of my possible interference of… whatever he might plan to do."
"Likely." Growling, Aiken dusted himself off, "I can't imagine the Dark Mage keeping this up forever on his own. Why don't you tell the magic to bugger off with your eyes?"
"Magic possesses a primitive consciousness can, to an extent, understand and be controlled through the will of their maker and reacts to their emotion." Lelouch explained coolly, "My Geass' commands can only be carried out if it is comprehended, and to override the original direction of a seal or someone else's, the commands I must give will prove too complex for that primitive consciousness' comprehension. Much like how a bird, or a cat, cannot understand me, therefore unaffected by my Geass."
"Suppose someone throw a fireball your way, can you turn it back at the source? The magic's done belonging to the mage that flung it after all, gone from their grasp."
"I can't break the bloody laws of physics." Lelouch said incredulously, "Just because I can give the command doesn't mean it can always be carried out. Shall I throw you into the sea and tell you to stop mid-flight?"
"Can always break it with magic." shrugged Aiken. "I suppose you'll need your own magic for that, or magic that belongs to no one or the one that received no order, leaking out of a mage that doesn't know how to control it."
"Quite, my Geass offer complete control over what magic I possess and little else. Convenient, but by no means dominant."
"How long does the seal stretch? You have been testing it out while I wait."
"From the tip of Pergrande to the southern coast of Midi."
It's impractical searching for all the glyphs scattered around Ishgar in hope of lifting this barrier. The convenience of teleportation as a mean of travel is no longer available, which means…
"What a shame." He turned his back on the gap, strolling toward the chairman, face blank, "Forget Fiore, 'tis a silly place."
"We'll have to sail there."
Dread crept up his face as he looked upon the frowning Lelouch. "It'll take at least three months from Midi! Three months! We can't spare three months! The economy!"
"Verdigris." Lelouch whispered, the silver ring in the shape of a serpent rested around his pinky finger swirled to life, its eyes glowing a shade of green, much like the raven on top of his cane. It hissed, eyeing him expectantly, to which he handed a piece of paper, "Take this to Walsingham."
Biting softly to keep the tiny scroll between its jaw, the snake slithered away into his shadow, disappeared without a trace.
"Creepy fuck." Aiken swore, pushing himself from the pebble he'd pressed himself against. "Couldn't you choose something cuter for your third pet? Like me."
"Still nervous around him?" He raised a brow mockingly, "I suppose it's only natural for you to fear your predator."
"F-fear? That cold blooded reptile?" The rodent scoffed, his countenance then turned serious, "You intend to summon all five?"
"We need to get our affairs in order before our departure." Came a curt reply. "The plans I have for Austellus will be carried out to the letter."
"You think they can do things on their own?"
"Those who survive long enough to learn the game tend to learn it well."
This republic's government can be summed up in a few words. Oligarchy, corporate dominions, cutthroat politics, fanatically meritocratic and elements of technocracy.
Oligarchy in the sense that the power rested in the hand of the High Council, the masses have no say in the matter. Corporate dominion in the sense that the Austellus Merchant Guild is the Republic, a merchant guild that grew big enough to be considered a country. Cutthroat politics, meritocracy and a degree of technocracy ensure only the most capable are seated on the High Council.
Whilst the people live in blissful ignorance, the government that rules over their country were built with talent, blood, intrigue and cloak and dagger schemes. The councillors seated upon the chairs of power are highly capable, and so do their subordinates. The High Council does not answer to the people, nor are they beholden to a monarch. They are not elected by the citizens nor born into such position through the aristocracy.
Talent is the only thing that matters.
Democratic? No.
Fair? To a degree.
Efficient and effective? Incredibly.
Of course, with talents, comes ambitions, but the first lesson they all learn from the first step into the world of Austellus' politics, is that the Republic always take precedent. They will place the agenda of the Republic above all else, lest Walsingham's blade slit their throats in their sleep.
"At least let me get my éclair."
Lelouch tapped on the pocket watch, removing the symbols carved on it, resetting the mechanism with an audible click. "…they're open from 9 in the morning to 6 in the evening, we're leaving at 8 today."
The sound he'd heard was not one suitable for human's ears.
…4 months later.
"Dead?" Lelouch repeated the word, his face betraying none of his emotions. "How?"
"She was murdered by Zeref." Precht Gaebolg, now the second Guild Master of Fairy Tail, turned away.
Impossible.
He eased himself into the chair, reaching for the cup of water on the table Mavis had spent most of her time with as the first Guild Master.
If Zeref knew how to kill one cursed by Ankhseram, he would already have offed himself.
As he predicted, Mavis fled the moment the curse was revealed to her. The moment the first life was robbed by her, the hourglass would notify him through a link with the stopwatch in his pocket. He would then make his way over and take the girl in. With time and company, she will come to accept her predicament. It will be a difficult time for Mavis, but someone full of her own conviction won't be so easily broken.
He had faith, that in time, Zeref and Mavis will find solace in each other's company. Their will would transcend the terrible fate that witless god bestowed upon them.
Letting out a deep sigh, he glanced at the empty hourglass from the corner of his eyes, placed atop a shelf, next to a picture of a smiling Mavis and her companions upon the founding of Fairy Tail.
Even if he couldn't reach Mavis first, even if Zeref had told her so thoughtlessly, he should have received a warning from the hourglass. Its consciousness was sustained by that sole purpose, he'd tied Mavis' very soul with it the moment they made contact with each other.
"Did Mavis ever shown any sort of apprehension and uneasiness before she killed someone in this guild?"
"H-how did you-" Precht shot up from his seat, his eyes narrowing, "I don't know how you came to know of Rita's death, but you will not stain my memories of Mavis with thoughtless accusation!"
"My, you are quite perturbed by that question." He smiled humourlessly, "You are aware of the curse she carries. Was it hard lying to your entire guild, keeping them in the dark?"
Precht bit his lips, slowed his breathing, returning to the visage of calm and confident he always possesses. "Just who are you? I didn't think much about the power Mavis obtained during the Tenrou Jade incident, I had my suspicions when you showed up. Then, the Black Wizard came around, dropping her corpse on my doorstep-"
"As if it wasn't already obwious enouf." Aiken remarked, his back against a jar of cookie, munching one as he speaks. Pulling in a stare full of astonishment. "The girl got her power from one of them, and we just conveniently showed up out of the blue after all those years, a short time after her death. They're acquaintances."
Snapping out of his trance, Precht grew silent, gluing his eyes to the wooden table. "She did." He mumbled after a moment.
Another sigh escaped Lelouch lips.
So, was it because she refused to believe Zeref's revelation then? No, no, the moment she found out, the curse would have activated. There shouldn't be months for Zeref to construct the massive veil that covered half of Ishgar, with him as the sole target, or tamper with the tiny tracking seal at the back of Mavis' neck.
Just where did it all go wrong? Complications with his enchantment on the hourglass? Or did he simply not understand certain aspects of that curse when Zeref explained it to him?
…or did he receive false information? He never doubted-
…
"I see."
"See what?" Aiken inquired, chugging down water from a cup as large as his own body.
"You know…" Precht bent down, hands shuffling through a stack of paper in the cabinet beneath. "Ever since the founding of Fairy Tail, Mavis had devoted all her time for us, and long before that as well. She was selfless, and always place others before herself."
He remained silent, there is no need for a respond.
"We met her on Tenrou Island, in our search for the Tenrou Jade, a relic of her people. It was stolen by a mage guild called Blue Skull before we got our hands on it. One thing leads to another, and we came upon Magnolia here, the town once ruled by that guild, dilapidated and decaying. She had no obligation nor any reason to care about the people here, yet she chose to do it anyway." Precht resurfaced, one hand holding a piece of paper, another pointed to his eyepatch, "We fought, and we lost. I lost this eye during the combat."
"How very touching." Lelouch gave a passing remark.
"I'm sure you already know what happened next." A sad smile graced the man's face, "She didn't know then, unaging, she regretted nothing. Years gone by, and as her dream of adventures remain unfulfilled, bogged down by this guild and this town, she continued her work. Not a single complaint, demanding nothing in return, there hadn't been any personal wish, but this one."
He casted a glance at the worn paper pushed toward him, a map of Ishgar, filled to the brim with lines and arrows, date and time. Crossed out, they're all crossed out, one after another as the paper age, from X686 to X695. She has given up on drafting plans of adventure a year ago.
As he drifted to the end, lines of words crossed out blackened the page, empty wishes and goals. In the middle of all the black, one line stands out with the fading blue ink, weathered by time.
'I w nt Z and L to j in Fai y Tail!'
"I can tell who Z might be, you must be L."
"Thank you for your time." He stood up, plucking Aiken off the table, "We shall take our leave, before your guild members return."
"Wait, I have so much to ask-"
He turned around, Geass symbol flaring in his eyes. "Wipe my existence from your mind, Zeref have no acquaintance, Mavis defeated the Tenrou Jade on her own. I never existed."
"As you wish." returned a monotonous reply to his command.
"Bubble tea…"
Paying no heed to the miserable rambling of the mouse inside his pocket, he strolled out the building, waving the door shut with a motion of his cane, and promptly begin making his way to the coffee house he hasn't visited for years.
"…cotton candy… I want some…"
Damnation, this is what he got after three months spent on that ghastly, rocking ship?
"This is what we've got after three months on that damn boat?"
And the next month scouring Fiore for Mavis…
"And a month in the wilderness, looking for a dead girl."
"Shut up." He smiled, eyes twitching, hand squeezing the mouse's body, "It's irritating."
On contrary to his expectation, Aiken simply stared, black and purple peering into each other.
"Don't blame yourself." The mouse began, its voice the most sincere he ever heard during their times together.
"Consolations from one who knows nothing…"
"But I do." Aiken huffed, crossing his tiny arms, "I am your first and most successful attempt in the field of metaphysics that deals with life, death, the beyond and all mysteries of souls. None of the following ones can talk, can they? Obnoxious twats all of them, especially that cat."
He said nothing, continuing along the paved road.
"My consciousness was a part of you, I have the memories you left unlocked, of your time here." Aiken stopped, waiting for a response, seeing none, he continued. "Her fate was entwined with the Dark Mage far before you step in. You could've told her then, and simply send her to Zeref, you did not. She had all the time you could've afforded her. With or without your involvement, even if you had intended to use her, Zeref would seek her out, latching onto the faint hope for acceptance."
"She is dead." stated Lelouch.
"For cause which none of us know." The mouse shook its head, snow fur brushing his fingers. "A regrettable outcome, regardless, it was out of your control. There was nothing to be done."
"I am well aware of all that." Lelouch rolled his eyes, much to Aiken's ire. "It's the time I've lost that I pity. Now, we could use some alcohol before we return to Enca."
"Cunt, I was being-" Aiken cut himself off, it was the first time that he caught a glimpse of that despondent and haunting look. "…nice."
Pursing his lips, Aiken made his way back into the pocket, leaving Lelouch to dwell in his own thoughts.
It didn't take long for him to reach his destination, and in front of the building, stood a familiar figure.
"Zeref." Lelouch inclined his head, hand moving toward the door of the building, he could smell the coffee beans from here.
In a blur, his arm was stopped in a tight grasp, and the town disappeared, replaced with the sounds of swaying palms and the smell of salt.
"Where are we?"
"Between Ishgar and Alakitasia, in the centre of the vast ocean."
"How did she die?" asked Lelouch absently, taking a step toward the ocean.
Zeref sent him a steady gaze, his face indifferent and neutral. "Love between those cursed by Ankhseram is a contradiction of the power that binds us. This fate of eternal suffering is our punishment for breaching the cycle of life and death. My curse overpowered the very immortality it granted and took her life."
"I see you are done grieving."
"E.N.D will proceed as planned, I will ensure that my demise is irrevocable, and awaits my death." Zeref began with a tone of finality, "You will not interfere with the plan already set in place."
He removed his eyepatch, plucking the glistening violet crystal off, "I have no intention of doing so. The words from ten years ago are no lies."
"Do you really think I would believe that?" Zeref offered him a smile that carries no emotion. "Knowing you, you will try to bring Mavis back, you might even attempt to challenge the god behind this."
"You presume correctly." Imbuing the crystal with power, he lowered it to the pocket sewed on the inner layer of his cape. Aiken's tiny arms wrapped around the crystal, and their presence, both mouse and crystal, disappeared.
"Your arrogance knows no bound." The mage chuckled. "All these times and you never change."
He spun around, smiling, "Time might slide through my fingers, ticking away through the years, decades and centuries. I can watch it drain like water in a tub, dissolve like a mirage across an unending dessert. I might change, as all do, but Lelouch vi Britannia will never fade. An exiled prince to an emperor of Britannia, I rose to ensure that the Holy Britannian Empire would be nought but lines in pages of history. Yet, I embody the ideals which Britannia were founded upon. I am its ultimate culmination of bitterness, hatred, thirsting for vengeance against the father I ended with my own hands. I am its last vestige."
"So long as you stand, the name of the empire you carry will survive."
"Quite."
"We both carry a legacy of destruction and ruination, yet yours have purpose, have meanings, and for the good of many. Mine is only senseless death and despair. The world will be a better place without me."
'Sad' sounds so childish, like something flimsy, something one might cast off with a happy reflection or the smile of a friend. It is nothing of the sort. It lay dormant inside like a seed of depression, lurking beneath until the right moment to send out roots to choke hope and joy out of one's heart. It's the depth in which one struggle to return to the peak, yet, this time, the rungs might be too slippery for Zeref, too far away, or simply isn't there at all.
Lelouch's smile faded, "I too, killed my first love."
Zeref's offered no respond, but shock was evident on his countenance.
"Euphemia li Britannia, just like Mavis, a kind-hearted, naïve girl, who seek to treat all around her with respect and kindness. Born into that wicked family of mine, her light remains undamped, shining until she took her last breath. Always believed that she could change it all from within." Voice laced with sadness, Lelouch continues, "It was never an accident like yours in my mind. A foolish jest at the wrong moment, and my power tainted that pure, innocent heart. I shot her, and it remains one of the greatest burden and sin on my soul, I will never be able to forgive myself. You and I, we are not so different..."
And so, they stood there in silence, letting the warm breeze try its best to warm the cold that gripped their heart.
"…of course, I'm far more intelligent and attractive."
Zeref blinked, shaking his head at that familiar smirk that donned Lelouch's face. "Lelouch, I intend to set you into a slumber on this island, until E.N.D is here, and I depart this world, you will not wake."
"Have you got any idea how long that is? How much time will be wasted away?"
"I do-"
"I met a girl the other day, tomboyish, short-haired, tanned, energetic and exceedingly cute."
"…"
"I'll have her in my bed by the next day, how will I do that if I'm sealed away on some god-forsaken island?" Lelouch titled his head, frowning.
"Just how many have you sullied in all these years?" Zeref asked, face blank.
Lelouch's sight fell to the sand beneath, adopting a thoughtful countenance. Time passed by, and the waves rolled in and out. "Dear me." He looked up, "I've lost count."
"I can't imagine someone promiscuous like you mourned for your first love, Lelouch."
"Now, now." He waved his hand dismissively, smiling, "Don't taint the name of Lelouch vi Britannia like that, until I feel melancholic enough, you may call me Julius."
Zeref, for his part, simply stared. Like father, like son, indeed.
Lelouch sighed, "You won't change your mind."
"No."
"You must realise that I will not come quietly."
"You cannot win, Lelouch." Zeref said, arm crossed, "Don't make this more difficult than it has to, my power far outstrips yours. You might match me for a time, but you cannot keep up forever."
"If you can die, it would be an entirely different matter."
The air next to Lelouch's hand twisted and became distorted. Blood oozed down from the mirage, and Zeref narrowed his eyes. From within, he could make out what seemed to be an arm, pale and soaked with red, a black sleeve that covered the elbow…
Eyes widening, he sends forth a burst of magic, shattering the illusion around him to pieces. He could see a trail of blood on the sand, from where he stands to Lelouch, who reappeared a good fifteen steps away. Turning sharply toward his right arm, he could see it is still there, yet his sleeve was missing, and a deep cut was closing itself off. The twinge of pain paralysed his arm and sent a jolt of panic through his mind.
"W-when?"
"When you began talking about sealing me off." Lelouch threw the arm down, and it withered away, turning to dust. "It was not easy, casting it without your notice, numbing your senses and telling your mind that I was still standing here."
Zeref said nothing, a drop of sweat dripped down his face as his feet move into a battle stance. His enormous magic power, wild and random bursts that sucked life out of his surroundings now restrained and under his complete control. Standing before Lelouch, is no longer the pensive, downcast mage, but the cold-hearted Zeref spoken of in legend.
A terrible dark clarity descended over Lelouch's mind, perceiving, observing his opponent. Pure, untainted ethernano surged from his body, joining the magic in the air, waiting to carry out their master's biddings. His gloved hand clutching the cane, the steel raven and the serpent ring flashed a spark of burning emerald. Whipping his cane up, the air in front of him cracked, the raw ethernano gathered fuelled the magic in the air, funnelled into one direction. Such gigantic quantity of magic is chaotic and powerful, impossible to properly control otherwise, yet, his Geass flared, and he forced all that power through those tiny cracks. The air boomed with the splintering of space, sending forth a colossal shockwave, further reinforced by the energy gathered, soaring toward his opponent.
Dark magic erupted around Zeref, waves of black whirled into a great dome that touched the sky, then seethed across the sand with a sweep of his arm.
Black and grey collided, one seeks to consume and vanquish, the other to tear and rip. From the epicentre, magic ruptured and gave birth to another shockwave, gushing out in every direction. Carnage ensued, trees writhing and flailing, their groans of pain carried away by the vibration. From the shore to the depth of the forest, magic swept through behind the wind, flattening them all. The sands beneath, over a meter thick, were swept into the air, flung into the roaring waves and the flattened layer of green, revealing the bedrock buried deep under. The earth quakes and rumbled, sending a ripple through the sea.
To Zeref, who now surrounded himself in a protective dome, it is the most terrible sandstorm with dust that shielded all from his sight. Landing on the rocks, he waited with the assurance of his black arts, impenetrable and impervious, proven by the long centuries. A sudden look of shock dawned his face as something pierced through the dome, he felt no pain, only a tight pressure in his shoulder. Blood spilled and soaked his black garment, into the white toga. It was but a moment, before the curse of Ankhseram closed off the wound.
"Goodness, what was that look?"
Lelouch's voice was full of amusement, quiet as it is against the crushing ocean waves, stirred into a wild thrashing by the shockwave, he could hear every word. As the sand settled, he could make out Lelouch, who took no step from where he stands, that damnable smirk still on his face.
"Does it hurt?" asked Lelouch mockingly, leaning against his cane, his right hand holding the pistol, glowing with violet runes. "I imagine no one has ever come close to drawing your blood during all these centuries."
Zeref's eyes sparked a crimson colour, countless orbs molded from dark magic soared toward Lelouch. Tiny cracks of reality appeared in their trajectory, sending forward raw wave of magic with unmatched precision, ramming into the core of each orb, dissolving each other. Whilst the mini game of throw and catch that would have ended with the ultimate demise of the any other mage continues, Lelouch and Zeref were locked in combat, exchanging blows with greater magnitude. From blinding purple streak of lightnings surging forth from Lelouch's gloves to piercing bullets of darkness against the unending dark magic. With the speed of light and bullets, dodging prove an impossible task, and dark magic far too dangerous to risk taking a hit, both were forced to resort to deflections through vast concentrations of magic. Feats of unprecedented mastery over magic from a prodigy against the absolute power of the cursed mage, none can afford even a second of mishaps.
Zeref eyed the gleaming raven with narrowed eyes, he could sense the enchantments that amplify and rein in Lelouch's unstable, chaotic and powerful magic, borne from his domineering spirit and energy forcefully taken from the flow of nature. With that gone, this battle of attrition will end far sooner. The Lelouch he knows is defined by his intelligence, arrogance and pride. Physical deficient has prevented him from any serious training in close quarter combat, and his pride is an obstruction toward the correction of that weakness. His pragmatic qualities may outweigh his pride, but that hardly makes Lelouch proficient in close quarter.
With his mind made up, Zeref rushed to close the distance, his death orbs' offensive halted in favour of interference against Lelouch's offense. The move was sudden and decisive, he left no room for hesitation and pressed onward. Lelouch was taken back, pulling in his dispersed power that was sent out to deal with the orbs. Alas, the stygian blast circles, flame-like dark matter gathered in his hand, and he shattered the smaller, but sizable reserve that formed an intricate barrier, overpowered it with the enormous power at his disposal.
It was too easy, far too easy, his hand was already on the cane. He did not notice that something was terribly wrong, until the left side of Lelouch's lip tugged upwards, creating a sinister smirk on his face.
An audible click, and the sound of steel sliding out of a scabbard reached his ears. It was far too late, as the steel flickered with a royal violet light, hidden in the cane's body, slashed through his toga, leaving a deep gash.
Dark Magic poured out, inverting the colour of his surroundings immobilising and freezing time. Yet, Lelouch remains unaffected, his eyes flaring a bird-shaped symbol, a crack appeared in the air between them, and he could feel his body freezing up as his magic shattered, a layer of time and dimension eclipsed his own. The sharp tip of the slim double-edged sword pierced his shoulder. With a blur, the pistol's barrel was set on his chest, and Lelouch pulled the trigger, again, again and again.
Zeref screamed, a torrent of dark magic erupted, the pillar reached so far it touched the very sky. The steel slid out of Zeref's shoulder, and the force pushed Lelouch off, skidding away a good 50 meters.
Thick and sluggish, blood flowed down like a lazy river, his life fluid drained out of him in its garish red. He could feel the bullets went through his bones, and his tendons pulled everything out of place. It burns unlike anything he had felt before, the curse of Ankhseram struggling to patch it up.
Lelouch's cape fluttered in the wind, his left arm is gone, smoke sizzling from the charred fabric on his left shoulder. He gave a hysterical laughter at the sight, falling to the ground. "Bloody hell, it is painful."
"Poison is a woman's weapon." Zeref spat, spitting out a bulge of blood, red, jelly-like substance instead of liquid.
"Is a man's head so inferior to a woman's that we are to be denied such a weapon?" Lelouch cursed, clutching his shoulder, emerald light of the serpent ring faded away. The last drop of venom, courtesy of Verdigris, dripped down the hidden blade.
"How did you come out unscathed in our first clash? It was as if you had disappeared from the world entirely, I couldn't sense your presence and magic at all."
"Had I mastered that before you pulled me here, you would have fared far worse."
"What is the point?" Zeref questioned, clenching his teeth in pain. "I cannot be killed, you would have driven yourself to exhaustion just like this. You've lost an arm-"
"Did you think I haven't tried slitting my own throat once or twice? That wicked man I called father left me a parting gift I hadn't discovered for a long while." Lelouch hissed, he can imagine why C.C is the way that she is. His shoulder has already gone numb. "Centuries gone by, you must've forgotten what pain feels like as the infamous Dark Mage. I simply reacquainted you with the fear of death and pain, to remind you why we shun away from such things."
"And you are the one to speak?" The dark mage scoffed, "Look at you, writhing in pain. Lelouch bloody Britannia, an untouchable Emperor, whose serious wounds only inflicted upon him in his last moments."
"As I said, you and I, we are not so different."
Zeref blinked at the remark, prompting a chuckle from both of them.
"Any last words before I seal you off?"
"I should have pulled out your finger nails, skin you alive, even drown you in a pile of manure, drug and sell you to a brothel. Something worse." Lelouch let out a long sigh, the blue sky is starting to fade, the exhaustion is setting in… "Make sure the bed is comfy, the air conditioned at 21 degrees Celsius, and-"
"…right."
X784
Magnolia, Fiore
"Master?" Erza pushed the door open, stepping into Fairy Tail guild master's office.
"Yes, yes." The voice of Makarov Dreyar escaped the mountain of paperwork, filled to the brim on the desk.
Erza pursed her lips disapprovingly, pulling in a seat, "You summoned me?"
"I did." The short, elderly man smiled, pushing a stack of paper aside, which promptly crashed down the floor, with papers floating in the wind. "Don't worry about it, I'm sorry for calling you up so soon, right after you dealt with Lullaby too, but this is a request from the Magic Council..."
"How odd. The Magic Council do not hold us in high regard."
"Ha!" Makarov laughed, grinning from ear to ear, "They need everyone they've got, especially when it comes to that merchant guild."
The Titania frowned, "Austellus?"
There isn't a single person on Ishgar that hasn't heard of the Republic, the only country without a king or queen, consistently ranked first in everything but population. Then, there's the conflict between the Magic Council and the Republic over authority on mages and the line of national sovereignty that stretches back for nearly a hundred years since their founding. It's not unheard of for mages, even dark mages, to flee for the Republic, away from the Magic Council's laws and rules. Save those powerful and integrated well into their society, every single one is deported right into the Magic Council's hand, or even outright killed. The two have established a mutual understanding, but it is fragile at best and nothing but a public show at worst.
Even she has to agree that the Rune Knights are a joke in comparison to the Republic's peacekeepers. This is a shameful stain on the Magic Council whose sole purpose is peacekeeping and magic regulations.
Makarov poured two cups of tea, pushing one toward Erza. "There has been sporadic burst of large dark magic somewhere far away from the ocean, much farther west of Caelum. If something that far away can ruffle the monsters under the sea and panicked the cattle-"
"I will head out right away." Erza nodded, all ready to leave.
"So hasty." Makarov shook his head, "How will you get there?"
"Ah." Came an exclamation.
"The sea belongs to Austellus, only their ships can sail far out in the ocean and survive the horrible weather and monsters out there." Makarov said, taking a sip from his cup, "Everyone who tried to venture out too far is either killed or get lost and gone missing."
"We need their help." Erza cupped her chin thoughtfully, "The council need their help."
"They are trying to expand into Fiore, and bad weather along with restless monsters is bad for travelling. In return for their assistance, they ask that we allow someone from Austellus to accompany you." The Fairy Tail master donned a face full of confusion, "They are really insistent about it, I wonder why…"
"That's fine, Master." assured the scarlet mage, "There are lives at risk on the treacherous sea, including the Austellan, I'm sure they'll send someone capable."
Makarov nodded approvingly, turning toward the door, where a faint knock could be heard, "Come in, come in."
A figure strode in, cloaked and hooded with black, his steps silent and steady. "Guild Master Dreyar, Miss Scarlet." bowed the figure to each of them. "I am the representative of the Austellus Merchant Guild."
Erza stood up, offering her hand, cladded with armour to the figure. "Nice to meet you, your name is?"
The cloaked figure straightened his posture, and she was taken back. Where a face should have been, is a veil of dark mist, sprawling along the hood's opening. The thin leather glove grasped her hand, and she felt as though there was nothing but air behind it.
"You may call me Walsingham."
