~.~.~
Title: Our Family
Notes: Let's be honest — this is not a plot story. It's just me making myself feel better about this stupid ice family. So eh, believable and realistic are not really high on the priority list.
I think this is some pretty heavy overkill, btw, and Ul and Gildarts alone could probably do it by themselves (though we don't really know how strong/weak it actually was). But safety margins are good!
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9. From the west
Councilman Torch regarded Ul thoughtfully for a moment after she slipped back into his office. "So, Deliora then," he said finally. "You're serious about trying to defeat it?"
"Yeah, I am," Ul said. "It's not like we can just let it keep rampaging all over the country. We have to stop it…"
"The question is how," Torch agreed. He sighed heavily, looking older than ever — and he had retired years ago, for a reason. "A demon from the Books of Zeref… that's not something even you can match. Don't think I have been ignoring it — I asked the Council for help, so many times, but…"
But the Magic Council was always slow to act, even in the face of a crisis, and they were afraid. Everything of Zeref inspired an instinctual fear in wizards who followed the light. Even more than its power, that association made Deliora appear unapproachable and insurmountable.
Ul scowled and clenched her fists. "If we can't count on them, then we'll just have to protect Isvan ourselves," she said. Sighing a little, she thought, 'But maybe I can ask that guy again, even if he is from the west…'
~.~.~
Even the usually flippant Gildarts looked rattled as they watched the thick, dark pillars of smoke billow into the sky in the distance. It went against Ul's every instinct to just stand there and observe while the city burned, but Brago was long gone. They would fight Deliora in its ruins, but there was nothing they could do for the city itself.
Gray's expression was completely blank as he stared fixedly into the distance, at the dark figure among the flames. He clutched Ultear's hand so tightly that his knuckles were turning white, but she held back just as tightly, without protest.
"This is crazy," Gildarts muttered, shifting impatiently from foot to foot. "You're crazy. I'm crazy. I can't believe we're actually doing this."
"Do you want to back out?" Ul asked him bluntly, but Gildarts only huffed and shot her an annoyed look.
"I said I'd do this, and I will," he told her. "I accepted this quest — my guild's reputation is on the line now. And… you know… as a wizard, it's not like I can just look away from something like this…" He seemed oddly embarrassed to admit to being a good person.
"You're strong, right? And Master Ul is with you, so you'll be alright," Lyon assured him.
"Thanks. Having the great Master Ul with me definitely makes me feel better about maybe trying to take on a demon with just two people," Gildarts said dryly.
"Then, you think they're not coming?" Ul asked.
"I don't know who's coming," Gildarts said. "Or who's not coming. It's…" He gestured vaguely. "I didn't get an answer. It's not easy trying to get something set up across the continent, you know? So it might end up being just us. And I've got plenty of confidence in my skills, and yours, but I wish we had some better idea of what we're up against."
The general reaction to demons, especially Zeref's demons, was to run, not fight. So they didn't even know for sure if their magic would work. There were legends… Well, they'd know the truth soon enough.
"Are… are you going to be alright, Ul?" Gray spoke up. Tearing his eyes away from Deliora's figure in the distance, he looked up at Ul with fear and concern. "You said… you said before that even you're not strong enough to stop it, so maybe… if it's too strong… you shouldn't… Ul, I don't want you to die too! Not even for our promise!"
His outburst gave Ul a bittersweet feeling of both happiness and sadness. He'd grown so much, and he was trying so hard, but he shouldn't have hard to bear that burden in the first place. "Thank you for worrying, Gray, but it'll be alright," she said. "It's dangerous, but if turns out to be too much, then we'll get as much information as we can and retreat for now, so we can come up with a better plan." Kneeling in front of Gray, she ruffled his hair with a small smile. "It's probably not the kind of dramatic victory you'd like to see, but we will find a way to defeat it — I swear."
Slowly and uncertainly, Gray nodded in acknowledgement. "Just... be careful, okay? It's not… It's not worth it, if you die too," he mumbled.
"I won't die," Ul repeated firmly. She had too much to live for, and too much to lose. She wouldn't leave her children alone.
"Huh," Gildarts said suddenly. He was staring westward with an odd expression that wasn't quite incredulous, but conveyed a certain chagrined disbelief. "Well, it looks like someone came. I think?"
His confusion was well founded, and the others couldn't help but stare in the same way as they turned to look west. Finally, Lyon voiced what they were all thinking. "Is that… a tree?"
It was. What looked like the foliage of a massive tree was rapidly approaching their location, stretching out from somewhere past the horizon. In moments, it was upon them — a giant branch bending down to the ground and the rest quickly withering into nothing.
Three wizards stepped off, brushing stray leaves from their shoulders. "Good, looks like we made it in time," the shortest, an old man with a thick mustache, commented.
Ul looked toward Gildarts to explain. "This old man is my guild master, Makarov Dreyar," he said, looking annoyed. "He'd one of the Ten Wizard Saints chosen by the Council, so I thought he might have more luck getting them to do something, but apparently not. Though it looks like he did manage to get some help."
Makarov shook his head, scowling. "The Council dithered a lot and couldn't agree whether to send anyone," he said. "The usual — it's a threat, terrible business, of course they should do something, but actually taking action? It'll be another decade before they make up their minds. I tried appealing directly to the other Wizard Saints, but only Master Warrod and young Jura here agreed to help of their own will."
The youngest of the three bowed his head, a serious, solemn look on his young but solid features. "It's disgraceful that the Council would ignore this travesty," he said. "As a member of the Ten Wizard Saints, it is my duty to assist you."
Makarov and Gildarts exchanged a look that implied something like amusement at his youthful optimism and dedication. Only a young fool would volunteer to go fighting a demon in a foreign country on the other side of the continent out of a self-appointed duty. It was easy to tell Jura had only recently become one the Ten Saints. Still, it wasn't a bad thing that he took his position so seriously, especially since it worked in their favor.
"I'm just here to watch!" the last of their group, the one Makarov had called Master Warrod, laughed blithely. "Ah… that's a joke." After a moment of uncertain silence, he added, "Well, not really. My magic isn't much when it comes to attacking. So I can't help you anyway. It would be better to say that I'm here just to observe… But you can leave the children to me. I won't let anything happen to them."
He patted Gray on the head, making the boy stare in surprise — though it might have been the fact that Warrod resembled nothing so much as a talking tree.
It took a moment before anyone could respond. Suddenly, their group had doubled in size, after all, and the situation was looking rather different. Unexpectedly, through the kindness of strangers, the odds seemed to be turning in their favor.
Lyon and Ultear exchanged a look of confusion over Gray's head. 'Westerners… are they really that powerful? Are they really going to help?'
"Ah… All the same, having two of the Wizard Saints fight beside us is a great help," Ul finally said diplomatically. "I… assume you will be fighting as well, Master Makarov? Are you certain? This fight is... dangerous, and you have no obligation to help."
"Yeah, old man. I didn't expect you come in person," Gildarts said. "Spare a thought for your age. We can probably handle it."
"Humph. Don't underestimate me just because I haven't been taking missions for a while. I'm still the strongest in the guild," Marakov said. "And I know you. You're stubborn. Even if no one came, you'd try to take that thing on by yourself. There's strength in numbers — isn't that the purpose a guild? And our guild won't leave anyone to fight alone. Not even a brat as annoying as you."
Watching them bicker goodnaturedly, Ul cracked a small smile. She had never been in a guild, but she had heard of western guilds and the way some of them saw each other as family. 'They really are good people,' she thought, 'to help just because it's the right thing to do.'
Suddenly, she just knew — they would be alright.
They would win.
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