Author's Notes:
There is mild torture in this one. Emphasis on mild. No one is actually "hurt", just scared shitless.
Chapter 100:
Something to know about Verbena was that it was less a town and more a village halfway between civilization and hell. It sat right at the edge of accessibility, having to import everything from the clothes they wore, to the food they ate, to the very water they drank. Now, why would anyone hope to build a town in a place so desolate that the very trees had turned to stone and the rolling dunes fought to eat those little shacks and shanties that the people here called home? As one would expect, money had something to do with it. Not even a mile up some old and beat-up tacks that slouched their way to the rock canyons striped with dazzling red and white, was one of the biggest limestone mines in Fiore.
Somehow, this place seemed even more arid than Chuparosa and lacked the wiry desert trees that offered shelter. Juvia was particularly miserable with her camisole open and drawn down to rest on her shoulders as she fanned herself in the heat. Gajeel knew all this dry weather was hard on the Rain Woman and it had to be hard on her to be so disconnected from her element, but she didn't complain. It would all be worth it, if they could just get in the right direction, he was sure. As they waited at the train station, Hajime's face lit up at a thin, grey-haired man who had spotted them. He waived them over and the three made their way across the sun-stricken ground.
"Mornin' Sam," Hajime grinned.
"Haj," Sam replied kindly enough as he extended a hand to shake Hajime's. The man was very plain and looked more clean-cut than what Gajeel was used to when it came to Sal's connections. His main occupation must have been in mining, as he was garbed with no embellishment aside from his high, sturdy boots and thick gloves stuck to his waist by a loose belt with different picks and tools Gajeel didn't quite recognize but was sure he could guess at the use of. His hair was cropped short and messy atop his head, looking like he probably hadn't done much more than smooth it down with his palm when he left his home this morning. Grey and black stubble coated his face in a way that looked unkempt and tired. All in all, he was far from impressive.
"We won't be takin' much a yer time, here, Sam. We're just tryin' ta hunt down Krew, if ye could point us in the right direction."
"I'll give ya better than a direction," he thrust his thumb over his shoulder as he spoke, "Your guy was headin' for the Dreadwood Valley."
"Dreadwood Valley?" Gajeel raised an eyebrow cynically, "Who named that?"
Sam shrugged, "If he ain't moved onta somewhere else, the man's good as dead. Earthland knows what swallowed him up out there."
"Swallowed him?" Juvia asked, her brow furrowing with concern.
"Big ass sinkholes out there," he said, putting a hand on his hip as he gestured towards the horizon, "The whole ground ain't right. Some guys came out a while back, said all this used to be underwater, see? That's why the 'stone is so good. Some long time ago, the forest out there flooded and became a fjord-" he dragged out fjord, like it might have been two words instead of one, "-now all the trees out there are stone and the ground beneath 'em is all these caves. Ground's so thin ya take one wrong step and yer gone."
"He went to a place like that alone?" Juvia murmured.
Sam shrugged again, "Had his mind set, I reckon."
"How do we get to this Dreadwood Valley?" Gajeel asked.
"You're gonna hear all that and still head that way?" Sam looked Hajime dead in the face, "R'all you guild mages on a death wish, r'what?"
"We gotta find the man, Sam," Hajime sighed rather resignedly, "Just point us in a direction and we'll start walkin'."
Sam gave all three of them a hard look before letting out a weary sigh and turning away, "C'mon. Yer gonna need a sailboat."
"A sailboat?" Gajeel grimaced.
As it turned out, sailboat wasn't a bad term for it. It was a vessel, that was certain, made out of what was most certainly poorly welded pieces of scrap metal into something that resembled aerodynamic, with two offshoots on either side meant to stabilize it on the sand. A ragged sail stood at attention in the center of the sorry thing, made from repurposed canvas and peppered with small tears and holes. Sam hopped inside and rummaged around a beat-up toolbox to pull out a crystalline lacrima that immediately began to buzz with excitement at being held. He tossed them each a long scarf and some goggles.
"Better cover up anythin' ya don't want gettin' dusted," he said, "The sand'll cut ya like glass once we get going."
On the list of contraptions Gajeel hated riding in, the sailboats of Verbena officially topped the list. As soon as Sam took post, wrapping his arm around some rope mounted to the mast, and let the lacrima loose, they shot off like a rocket, leaving a cloud of sand in their wake. The entire thing rattled like a tin can sliding down a gravel hill, and Gajeel dug his hands into the side for his life as his stomach had a grand time learning a new way to tangle itself into his throat. They climbed over one of the high dunes and jettisoned off it, going airborne for a second before crashing back into the sand. Gajeel's entire body rocked and he pitched his head over the side to immediately get sick.
"Your friend alright?" Sam yelled over the wind.
"He's got a green stomach."
Sam's laugh sounded half crazed, "T's always the tough-lookin' boys, eh?"
It wasn't too long before the dunes gave way to harder ground and Gajeel heard the lacrima begin to power down. He looked up and saw a camp nearby of some huts and a few figures that looked to be standing guard. Sam lifted an arm and waived in their direction. One of the men lifted his arm in return.
"Why're we slowing down?" Hajime asked.
"The natives don't like us runnin' the dunes too rough," Sam said as they cruised onward, "Says it makes the spirits under the earth angry, or some shit."
"Forgot you minin' men were superstitious."
"Naw. The drought up north cut off our supply. They're lettin' us use the waterin' hole 'til the rains come back," Sam said, turning his head forward again, "Don' matter what you believe, ya don't piss off the guys who got the only clean water for a hundred miles."
It was over an hour on that damned contraption before their pace slowed considerably. Sam took hold of the lead and made a hasty turn that just about had Gajeel tumbling out the side. He clenched his teeth and pushed himself up woozily, ready to give the idiot miner a piece of his mind, when his eyes caught what the man had turned so suddenly to avoid. There was struck up from the ground a massive tree stump, probably as wide as their tiny sand-glider was long. Gajeel furrowed his brow because the color wasn't quite right. It was near the color of rust and banded with streaks of russet and grey, it's ridges worn smooth and the rings glazed together so it was hard to discern where one ended and another began. Then, as if the massive thing had been felled and chopped up and the job left unfinished, the rest of the massive trunk lay as a shattered column and half-covered in sand.
It was then that Gajeel looked at the horizon. Squinting his eyes through the sand that threatened at his face, he saw the stumps begin to rise. A few at first, low to the ground and scattered like fallen timber, and then growing taller, denser, until the sloping rises of the canyon rose up from the ground and climbed up into the sky. There, between a wide gorge, towered a forest the likes of which Gajeel had never seen before. Ancient, gargantuan sentinels guarded the entrance to the Dreadwood Valley, swathed in green that didn't sway in the wind and climbed up the old trunks in a way unnatural. As the vacrima's hum slowed and the abrasive wind dulled its sharp edge on his ears, he was taken by the icy stillness of the place.
"It's all petrified," Gajeel gasped.
"Ev'ry bit of it," Sam hummed, "'Cept the green, a'course."
"What could turn a whole forest to stone?" Juvia said as they maneuvered between the fallen trees.
Sam shrugged, "Ya gotta ask the headmaster that one. Somethin' 'bout it all bein' underwater. Trees died but nothin' could knock 'em over, I reckon." He pointed over to the steep bluffs, "Ain't no wind makin' its way down. Trees up front blocks it too. Whole place stays quiet-like."
As they approached, movement caught Gajeel's eye and he pointed towards a mound of brown lounging at the edge of the Dreadwood, "What's that?"
"Mh?" Sam squinted his eyes, "Looks like that's where Krew went in."
It was a camel, laying down in the dirt with its head high like it didn't have a care in the world, and Gajeel supposed it probably didn't. It looked well-fed and content to wait for its master to return and head back into the wasteland, although it had no way of knowing its master would never return.
"Doesn't look like he'd planned on stayin' long," Hajime noted, "All his supplies are there."
"Prolly wound up in a hole, somewhere," Sam said, shutting down the lacrima so the boat would slide to a halt, "Here's as far as 'm goin'."
"Thank ye kindly, Sam," Hajime grunted as he hoisted a leg over the edge.
Gajeel practically fell out of the damn thing, thankful to finally be on solid ground. Juvia hopped out after him with a considerable amount more grace.
"Mind where you step," Sam called, "Stick close to the roots. They're 'bout the sturdiest places to be. I gotta get back. I'll come 'round again after my shift is over at five. Be back here by then or walk back ta town."
Gajeel heard Hajime muttering their goodbyes as he headed for the camel with Juvia in tow. It was very clear Krew had meant to return. The camel had been tied to a post staked into the ground. His pack and bedroll were still strapped to its sides. The thing hardly regarded Gajeel as he approached which was fine by him. He wasn't a fan of camels. It blinked one of its dark eyes at him and grunted before swinging its head to gaze into stone forest. Gajeel followed its eyes.
All his life he'd been in forests, near forests. There was an order to places with ancient sentinels like this, and that order was gone here. Because, despite their impressive appearance from the distance, this place was dead. The green that they had seen as they approached wasn't that of leaves and ferns and grasses, but of moss and lichen and bromeliads. A dry moss climbed up the red stone of the trees, looking nearly black on the side facing the desert, but as the trees receded it turned more vibrant. Mounting, arid plants protruded from knots or the crooks of broken-off branches, and swayed in the wind with long, serrated leaves. But despite the sparsity of the vegetation, it wasn't easy to see into the petrified wood. The low-hanging branches had long been snapped off, left to litter the ground and lean against other trees like a bundle of sticks that had come loose from a wood pile and scattered. The sheer size of the things was incredible. Maybe the Great Tenrou Tree was still a mammoth in comparison, but these titans held lofty places far superior than even the largest of the Sakura Trees in Magnolia. Gajeel had never been in a place with trees so tall that he had to squint his eyes to see to the top of them. Their calcified limbs and vines formed and impenetrable canopy that let in only the thinnest of phosphorescent light from the sun. The shadows drew in close and hungry the farther you gazed in, and the most unsettling nature of all of it was the silence.
"Ah... it's not here."
"What is Hajime looking for?" Juvia asked.
"Remember that briefcase he always kept with 'im? If there's anything worth knowing, it's in there, and I can't find it..."
"Maybe Krew took it into Dreadwood?" she offered.
"Aye... let's hope those bastards didn't get it..."
Gajeel narrowed his eyes into the encroaching gloam. There were no birds, no buzzing of insects, flies, cicadas, or crickets, and just as Sam had said, there wasn't even a breath of wind. Everything stood stagnant and settled as if as soon as you stepped across the threshold of the valley you'd be trapped in glass, pinned and planted like a specimen for study. It was a graveyard of quiet and an abundance of the desolate. He hadn't even taken a single step inside, but just the thought of going in there made Gajeel's stomach writhe. Krew had gone there alone?
A hand grasped his shoulder firmly and he stiffened, "You ain't thinkin' about runnin' off on us again, lad, are ye?"
"No," he replied through tight lips.
Juvia was frowning again, clearly worried, "Gajeel is quiet."
"I don't like the place, is all," he growled back.
"Well, it ain't exactly invitin'."
"Does Gajeel think he can track Krew?"
Gajeel fished his hand into his pocket and pulled out the coin, wrapped in a piece of cloth Juvia had given him. There was a dark stain set into the fabric, shaped in a perfect, bleeding circle. He unwrapped it and stared down at it, how it glinted in the light. It was new, and it was Fiorian, and it must have been enchanted somehow, because when he'd wrapped it in the fabric the blood that swelled from it immediately stopped. Now that it was exposed to the air and the heat of Gajeel's hand, it began to sweat the smallest of red pinpricks on its surface, beetling into each other until the entire surface was consumed by a large drop of blood that spilled onto and stained the cloth. Krew's blood, flowed fresh from the coin as if it were a wound in his skin. Gajeel covered it again and tucked it away.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He didn't actually expect to smell anything on the air. He wasn't a bloodhound and it had been at least two days since Krew had been here at the edge of the valley. No doubt any trace that was left was stale. But he was also more accustomed to tracking in places of heavy traffic, where things became convoluted by wind and weather and other bodies and hands touching and moving and leaving their marks smeared over the scent he was after. It was fortunate for them that this place was so empty, so vacuous. He wouldn't have had it easier than if the man's footsteps were marked clearly in the snow. He gave the stone trees one more cautious look before taking a step into the shadow of the arboreal sepulture.
The temperature dropped steadily as they walked deeper. At the mouth, at least, there were ropes tied in order to direct their way through a seldom-travelled path. The way was difficult and crisscrossed by roots that piled and twisted over one another. It was no wonder Krew had left his camel, since the going was already slow and treacherous. By the time they'd made it to the first marker, Hajime's breathing was labored and he sat down to rest while Gajeel picked his way to a metal, rusted plaque rivetted into one of the trees. Above it, a wooden sign much older and in a language he couldn't read, although he could clearly interpret as a warning.
"Warning: Unstable Ground," Gajeel sighed, "This monument is made to commemorate the twenty-three company and four Koimposhe who lost their lives in the pursuit of progress in the name of the Crystal Graniteworks Company. May the spirits of those lost find their peace amongst the caves they so bravely wished to chart."
"An interestin' way to say they paid a bunch a' guys to go on a suicide mission," Hajime grunted, "And back here where people won't even see it."
"Suicide mission?" Gajeel asked.
"Aside from everythin' Sam said? You think the natives woulda sent four guides if it were a walk in the park, lad?"
"Juvia wonders what the other sign says. Can Gajeel read it?"
"What makes you think I can read it?" he wrinkled his nose.
"Gajeel could understand Papá Ohmara," she defended.
"I could barely understand Papá Ohmara speakin'," he growled, "It sounded like Draconic... kinda. I dunno. Anyway, no, I can't read whatever that is."
"Shame. Knowin' our luck it has somethin' important on it," Hajime huffed, getting back to his feet.
They continued down the marked path into the stygian wood. That was not the only memorial slated into stone on their trek onward, although most were humble in comparison. A hardhat here, a single monolith there, and all of it covered in creeping moss that seemed ever-present now. Lush and green against the brown umber of the petrified wood, it shrouded everything in a mocking façade of life and verdancy. All the while, Gajeel kept his nose turned towards the fading scent on the wind of cigarettes and sweat until to his great annoyance another scent began to make itself known.
Gajeel sniffed the air, "Water."
"Yes, Juvia sensed it as well," Juvia said wistfully.
"We're in the middle of a goddamn desert," Hajime muttered.
But there was water, just not where they could see it immediately. Not more than a hundred feet from where they stood, the ground gave way suddenly to a pit. It was roped of as best as it could be, but the ground wasn't stable and half of the markers were jutting haphazardly from the edges where the ground had fallen in over time. Gajeel crept as close to the edge as he dared to go, eyeing bones and shredded clothing sitting on a rock near the water's edge, the ripples of which cast chilling designs on the surrounding stone. The water was crystal clear and the depth impossible to tell. It looked like it could have been only a foot deep, but for all he knew it was fifty.
"That's a wicked fall, now, lad," Hajime warned.
"How deep do ya think that goes, Juv?" Gajeel asked.
Juvia shook her head slowly, concentrating, "Juvia isn't sure. She can feel water but it's so big... like feeling the ocean."
"Can ye please get back from that edge, lad? Ya got me nervous."
"Don't give yourself a heart attack, old man," Gajeel jeered at him, stepping back slowly.
They walked on mostly in silence, stepping over ancient fallen branches and chunks of stone. Gajeel let his eyes drift to the trees, their ancient patterns hardly touched by time or wind, must have looked the way it had thousands of years ago. The place felt untouched despite the vines that curled their way steadily, the dry weeds being the only life that seemed able to be sustained here in the perma-twilight cast by the interwoven roof of branches overhead.
Untouched... mostly.
Gajeel ran his eyes down a branch when his gaze fixed on something. A pattern. Patterns aren't foreign to nature, of course, and Gajeel wouldn't have paid it any mind except that when he looked back up from finding his footing, it was gone. The fine hairs on the back of his neck prickled as he came to Juvia's side. She was saying something about water beneath them, how she thought there must be miles and miles of caves spanning in all directions around them, because she felt like she was standing at the top of some massive tree and feeling about its unending roots, when Gajeel heard something he didn't expect. A cool, damp wind wound its way through the canopy, stilling him in place as it slipped and slithered around overhead and down the path behind them as if the trees were talking amongst themselves.
"Yer gettin' quiet again, lad..."
"Is something wrong?" Juvia asked.
"This place... ain't right," he said eloquently, "I don't like bein' here."
"All the more reason ta get a move on, then," Hajime urged.
Gajeel clicked his teeth. They passed the last marker where the laid path ended into untamed territory. There were wooden signs here, clearly left by the same who had made the original they'd seen on their way in. Repeating symbols reiterated some lost message to them as they kept walking. Gajeel noticed a sign with a bloated face, wide eyes, and a tongue that lolled out of a gaping mouth and curled. He shoved his hands in his pockets and made a point to ignore how he felt he was being watched, preferring instead to keep a close eye on Hajime and Juvia as they followed behind him.
Krew's scent veered sharply away from the original direction, through an area marked with ancient, fallen trunks. They scaled one only to find themselves sliding down the other side and into another, each one nearly the width of a house. Beneath fractured roots, Gajeel could hear the trickle of water as it dripped down into some deep cavern and echoed down in pitch darkness. After over an hour of climbing, they finally mounted the last one and found themselves staring down into what they had been searching for.
Hajime whistled. "Well... it looks like he didn't go quietly."
There was evidence of Krew's magic everywhere. Silver splashed up trees, freezing kicked up stones and pebbles in midair. It was dashed on the moss carpet and spilled over roots. A dark scar marred the ground, falling down into steep blackness. Around the edge of it were ten clear marks in the ground of claws that had tried and failed to keep from falling into the depths. Then he saw it, the briefcase teetering on the edge of the hole in the ground.
The impulse to rush down and investigate was forceful enough that Gajeel dug his heels into the petrified wood beneath his feet, all but ready to jump down into the clearing and start taking the place apart. But Hajime lifted his hand towards him, cautioning him not to move.
"Feels sorta like an ambush, don't it?" he murmured.
Gajeel regarded him for a moment with a frown.
He hated that the damn place was so quiet. If this were the forest on the hills outside of Magnolia, it would have been teeming with birdsong, the chirps of frogs, and the pulse of life. If this kind of quiet existed there, he'd know inherently something was very wrong. But this whole place was twisted and alien. How was he supposed to be able to tell this clearing was any more dangerous than the path of roots they'd been laboring down? Since their very first steps into this damned forest, he felt like he was walking straight into a trap. It's not like this was any different.
He was running his eyes over the scar again when the faintest of motion caught his attention. There was a pattern again, something that resembled the texture of the long-dead trees' bark. It shifted like an optical illusion as his eyes ran over it, and suddenly it was gone. Gajeel scowled and searched for it again, but it was as if it had never existed at all, a willow the wisp taunting him.
Maybe it all did seem a little staged now that he thought about it. Everywhere else they had walked, the ground was almost entirely made up of those stone roots, but here the ground was flat and the trees widely separated. Gajeel sniffed the air, but despite the scent of water that threatened to muddy everything up, he found Krew's scent still lay before them in that gulley. He knew this was the right way to go.
"Guess it is a little strange..." he breathed.
He cast his eyes around him and picked up a small stone. He tossed it once experimentally before flicking his wrist and sending it skipping across the ground. Or, it should have skipped. It bounced once against the ground with a sharp crack, but when it should have hit the ground again it vanished, dropping through the floor. A moment later, they heard the echo of it hitting stone.
"It's an illusion," Juvia said.
"A pretty damn good one, too." Hajime agreed. "Don't s'ppose most people would think twice 'bout walkin' out there."
Gajeel snuffed and slid down the massive trunk they'd been perched on, landing heavily on the balls of his feet.
"N-now! Be careful lad!" Hajime objected, "We don't know where the edge is!"
Gajeel stepped cautiously forward, trying to listen intently on how the sound around him bounced back at him. There wasn't much in the way of sand or rocks that he could use to try and gage the distance, but he wasn't too worried. He sort of thought he knew where the drop-off was. It just sort of made sense that if you were setting a trap, you'd put the bait right where you wanted your potential victim to wander over to their doom. He eyed the briefcase on the edge of the scar as he tiptoed over, taking care to shift his weight slowly. He couldn't hear anything amiss; no rock shifting beneath his feet or sound of unstable ground protesting extra weight. He took another step, sliding ever closer, nearly holding his breath as he waited. Almost there, he knew it would happen soon. Each inch forward made his stomach clench as he anticipated stepping on nothing but air until it was almost in reach.
He crouched at the edge of the scar, peeking down inside the hole large enough for a man to fall into. It was pitch black down there. He could feel the cold, damp draft wafting up from it. It, at least, was real. Gajeel eyed the marks in the moss where ten fingers had torn through the green in a desperate attempt to keep from falling in. They weren't from Krew. They couldn't have been. It wasn't just nails that would had done that, because the stone beneath was marred by slim white scrapes.
"Did Gajeel find it?" Juvia called, closer to him. He didn't look back at her, but figured she must have stepped lightly in his footsteps.
"I think this is the edge," he growled at the briefcase just on the other side of the hole, "Which means that probably ain't real."
"Nothing can ever be easy, can it?" Hajime griped.
"You feel water under there, Juv?" Gajeel asked.
The Rain Woman looked past him, concentrated a moment, and then nodded.
"Think you could break yer fall if you jumped down there?"
"Now, hold on, there. We don't know what's down there. Could be rocks... or an ambush." Hajime cautioned.
"I don't smell anything," Gajeel replied, "Since when were you so cautious, old man?"
"Since I saw you run off without so much as tellin' us and almost gettin' yerself killed," he huffed, "I ain't exactly keen on gettin' split up again."
"I didn't almost get killed," Gajeel snapped, "If anything woulda killed me, it woulda been you hitting me with fucking lighting!"
"What did ya expect me ta do? I had ta get ye apart one way or another!"
Juvia pointedly pushed past them both, rolling her eyes.
"Gajeel and Hajime are like children bickering." she said sharply, glaring at both of them before jumping off the edge and disappearing into the darkness.
"Ah shit, she's pissed." Gajeel muttered.
"Yeah... she is."
They sat in silence. They never heard her hit the ground, didn't even hear a splash of water. That was a good thing, of course. He knew Juvia could be stealthy if she felt the need, and it was probably smart to do since they really had no idea what was down there in the dark. Still, it made him nervous to sit there so long and just wait. If this truly was a trap, who's to say they would have any idea while they were waiting up here? After what felt like an obscene amount of time that was probably no more than five minutes, they finally heard something.
"It's ok to jump down," her voice echoed weakly out to them, "Juvia will catch you."
"Fuck... that sounds like a big jump."
Gajeel smirked, "You never did too well with heights, did you?"
"Not if I don't have to."
"You can wait here if you like," Gajeel snickered.
"Like hell."
Gajeel took a running leap. He instinctively braced for impact as soon as he saw the ground coming up for him before slipping under. His heart jumped up into his throat just before the water met him. His vision distorted and he hovered for a moment, shocked from the cold, before his eyes caught sight of Juvia. Blue magic swirled around her wrists as she guided him gently down. He spilled out unceremoniously onto a wide stone, gasping and shuddering.
"Goddamn..." he whispered.
They were on a ledge jutting out from the wall of a massive caldera. If he hadn't just jumped through the illusion, he never would have known it was there. Looking up, he could see straight into the twisting, calcified branches that now seemed miles away, as if the whole thing was a giant, two-way mirror. How deep were they? It was so hard to tell. Juvia's magic cast dark shadows everywhere, their only illumination aside from what little could shift through the twisting knots overhead now dying as she delivered Hajime safely to Gajeel's side. The large pocket of water she was manipulating she dropped into a pool a few dozen meters down below, dashing away mist that was regrouping just over the surface.
There was no moss here, no thorny plant life fighting to survive amongst the crevices, and so Gajeel decided this sink-hole must have recently fallen in. He could see discoloration along the walls high above them, proof that the chamber must flood from the rains that couldn't quite make it to the other side of the mountains. How far did these caves stretch on for, he wondered? All the way to the limestone mine, miles away? And if they even stretched beyond the mountains, that must make them unthinkably massive.
Juvia snapped him out of his thoughts, "Can Gajeel smell Krew down here?"
"A little..." he said, glancing around.
He could smell Krew, although the humidity was making it more and more muddled. He could also smell something else, something musky that made his lip curl, but he couldn't quite determine what it was. He looked down into the water below, at the debris piled up and breaking the surface. The ceiling must have caved in during the fight. He could make out large chunks of rock as well as the shattered remains of goliaths, the trunks so round Gajeel figured he'd have no problem walking on them. Here and there was a splash of silver betwixt the mud and stone from Krew's magic still clinging to life.
"I ain't goin' down there," Hajime crossed his arms, "Don't even ask."
"Yeah, yeah," Gajeel sighed, "Give me some light, will ya?"
"Be careful, Gajeel," Juvia called as he jumped down into the muck, "The water is deep."
It was a strain on the eyes to see, what with Hajime's magic being the only thing lighting the caldera. His lightning was a livid red and cast everything in scarlet.
So, when he hit the water below, he had expected his feet to sink into the silt, sure, but not to be damn near sucked down into it. The sediment was looser than he'd thought, and slipped away from his weight so that he had to cling to the nearest thing jutting out of the water in order to keep from going under. Despite this, the water around him was still mostly clear and he could easily see to the bottom all around him. He clicked his teeth as he trudged forward, sinking down until the water clung to his waist, and began the task of picking through the debris of the collapse.
Pale, blind fish darted around in the depths, frightened by his movement and noise, and huddled in the shadows of cervices. A large fish, far larger than anything he'd ever seen in a cave before, startled near him, flashing its tail as it rushed away and splashed him with cold water. He snarled at its track in the silt when something caught his eye, something dark and smooth. He took a breath and sank down into the water, running his fingers over it and digging into the sediment until he found something to grip onto, and immediately regretted it. The ridges, the dips and curves, there was no mistaking what it was. He spluttered as he surfaced.
"What is it, lad?" Hajime called.
"Just some bones." Gajeel raised it up for them to see. A skull, browned with age and brittle from what Gajeel could only assume was decades of being underwater, smiled up at them with only it's top teeth. He lobbed it away back into the marl.
"Fucks sakes, Gajeel! A few years outta the business turn ya white-livered already?"
"It surprised me!" he snapped back.
"Should Gajeel maybe figure out why it's down there?" Juvia called.
"I ain't an expert, Juv," he huffed as he sloshed his way deeper. He took a minute to catch his breath and look around, finding some silver magic and deciding to make his way to it, "You can tell the place floods. Could've been one of those miners that got washed down here from somewhere else. Could be older... some idiot who fell down here and tried to swim out..." he started muttering to himself as he turned his eyes to the caverns that fell off into forever in all directions around him, "Wouldn't that be the worst? Falling down here, no light, no way to get to higher ground... swimming until you're so tired you can't anymore..."
He climbed atop the broken tree and stood up tall, examining the water around him until his eyes alighted on a faint shimmering in the water. He jumped from one piece of rubble to the next until he was as close as he could get. Laying there in a halo of silvery sheen down where the cave floor dropped back into darkness, was the briefcase he'd been looking for.
"Did Gajeel find something?"
"Sure did, Juv," he replied, crouching down low on the massive piece of an old tree he'd perched on so he could get a good look.
Here and there were splotches of Krew's magic still clinging to the calcified wood, and he ran his fingers over the bit of magic gently, feeling a shock of pain as it pulled the blood in his fingers to a grueling stop. Krew didn't often fight with his magic. It wasn't exactly good for that. But to say he was defenseless also wasn't true. He had a particularly nasty trick that he liked to use when his hand was forced, a spell that would literally freeze all matter and time in a certain amount of space. If you could imagine suddenly being frozen, your lungs stopped, heart stopped, everything in your body suddenly unmovable, that was exactly what the spell did. A flash of pain ran the length of the body like a heart attack, lungs, unable to move, would burn because they couldn't gulp down any air; in a minimum of three long minutes, the victim would be unconscious, and then brain death wouldn't come for another seven. Eyes still open, everything would look the exact same as the moment the spell took over, aside from the silver light that lined the body. The magic would lift and they'd fall stone-cold to the ground, dead. It was a scary spell, yes, but Gajeel knew that casting it took a lot out of Krew. The spells he invoked had some amount of natural perdurance, but to keep this particular spell lasting for so long would have taken a massive toll on him physically. It was strange that there was so much of Krew's Time Magic sticking around. Spending so much magical energy, especially when he was on the run and with no backup coming, had to have been done for a reason. Hopefully, he'd just found it.
Gajeel knew he couldn't just dive down and grab the briefcase or else he'd be trapped in Krew's influence, so he stood and glanced around for anything he could use to try and pull it to him and out of that silver ring. His eyes landed on some rubble not too far away. With a huff he hopped back into the water and waded over to it, clamoring on top and starting the tedious process of looking through debris. His body stiffened when he heard a noise, faint and weak, but definitely something alive. He stared at broken pieces of rock, half submerge and slowly sinking. He curled his fingers around one and shoved with all of his might. There was a sharp intake of breath below him, and a sob, and Gajeel found himself staring down at navy scales. Wide, round eyes were one moment dazed as they drew themselves up to meet his, and in the next moment they were panicked.
"Look what we have here," Gajeel found the corner of his lip twitching upwards and the chameleon lurched away from him, stopped by a piece of debris pinning his arm down. He cried out and sank deeper in the sediment. His eyes flashed with panic, turning quickly between Gajeel and the detritus that was sucking him down. Something mean and vindictive curled in the pit of Gajeel's stomach so he quirked an eyebrow at him and smiled, "Need some help?"
He thrashed about unsuccessfully, letting out a distressed hiss at his arm where it was trapped. He muttered something, refusing to look up at the dragon slayer. It was more lizard than the Major was, being all scaled with no human skin visible at all. This thing at Gajeel's feet couldn't really be considered human, could it? What was more, he had to have played a hand in Krew's capture. Even still, the smell of fear filled the air and Gajeel could see tears gathering in the corner of his eye as the realization sank in that there was nothing he could do to get away. He was young... or he looked young, and clearly terrified and exhausted. Begrudgingly, Gajeel slowly began to realize that watching the chameleon struggle didn't sit right, which was... which was wrong, wasn't it?
Gajeel scowled and ran a hand over the slab of stone that held the chameleon down, looking for anywhere he could get a good grip. The kid whined and shrank away from him when Gajeel stepped over him, planting his feet as best he could in the shifting silt. He glared over at him before putting all of his strength into trying to lift.
"Don't you fucking run." He warned.
His feet immediately began to sink in the treacherous ground and he was extremely aware of the compromising position it would put him in if the kid decided to suddenly turn on him, but that didn't end up being a problem. The chameleon sucked in a hiss and wrenched his upper body, finally succeeding in wriggling free. He lurched into the sand, clawed hands sinking in as he scrabbled for something to give him purchase so he could pull himself out. Gajeel gripped a hold of his arm and dragged his waterlogged boot from the silt to brace it on the rock. With a strong pull, he dragged them both out of the quick and onto the more stable stone. He didn't get a moment to rest though, because the chameleon wrenched free from his grasp and staggered back, eyes wide as he whipped his gaze around frantically.
"Don't run," Gajeel growled, but the chameleon did just that, darting off with inhuman speed towards the side of the caldera. "Juvia!"
"Juvia's on it!"
The chameleon hadn't yet made it to the cavern wall when a blue magic circle erupted at his feet. Water rushed up around the chameleon and he cried out and thrashed but was unable to escape as it encapsulated him, forming a bubble that hovered just above the cave pool's glassy surface. His body curled and he whipped his tail along with the motion, trying to swim out of Juvia's control but only succeeding in remaining suspended as Juvia brought him towards the ledge where she and Hajime waited. Gajeel pulled himself up onto the rocks and chased after them, making it to the ledge just as Juvia dropped the chameleon on the ground. While he coughed and sputtered for air, Gajeel summoned his magic and hurled iron bands that snapped around his wrists and threw him into the wall, anchoring him in place. The tang of fear seeped into the air and Gajeel watched as the thing they had just captured quickly began to realize he once again couldn't get free.
"Honestly didn't think we'd actually find one," Hajime said, coming to Gajeel's side, "Alive, at least."
"Yeah..." Gajeel snarled, "Me neither."
The chameleon sank down to his knees, breathing heavily. It must have been a burst of adrenaline that had gotten him so far, because now he was shaking. His tail circled around his feet, like maybe he thought it would keep them out and away. Looking at him now, he really didn't look like Davian or the chameleon in Oragatohl'i. When Davian's glamour dropped, he turned angular, rigid, and keen, like a viper coiled and ready to strike. This chameleon's face was rounder, and his eyes weren't yellow, but maybe a yellowed green. His deep blue scales lacked the iridescence that Davian's had and there were no feathers in his mid-length brown hair that hung in wet and grime-covered snarls around his jaw. It wasn't like looking into the face of the chameleon in the temple where Gajeel immediately knew there was a relation to the Major because of the uncanny resemblance.
"What's your name, kid?" Gajeel crossed his arms. When he didn't respond, he tried again, angrier, "Oi, kid. What's your name?"
His head raised slightly and he looked stricken at realizing he was being addressed. He shook his head slowly.
"What were you doin' here?" he growled. The chameleon didn't answer, just let out a sound that might have been a sob and shrunk further against the wall, shivering.
Hajime sighed and Gajeel heard the tell-tale sound of him striking a match to light his cigarette, "We'll be here all week at this rate."
Gajeel turned his eyes back to him, "Didn't you used to lead interrogations? Hm, Titan?"
Hajime blinked at him for a moment like he might ask if he was being serious, and then looked past him at the chameleon. He clenched and unclenched his fist, sparking red lightning in his grip as he thought, before ultimately letting his face fall soft, "Ah... well lad, I mean... he's... well he's hardly much older than Maia?"
"Can't separate work from home?" Gajeel groused, knowing damn well he wouldn't press the man.
"Well, it ain't a job if ye ain't payin' me, is it?" Hajime snapped back, "This is your ass in trouble. You make 'im talk."
Gajeel gave the kid a long, hard look. It wasn't that Gajeel was new to the idea to torture that made him hesitate, but more that he was shit at it. Jose had him alone in a room with a rival guildmember many a time, putting them through hell before Jose would ultimately kill them or send them back as an example. Getting information, though, he was notoriously bad at. He was always too fast and loose, always made them pass out from pain before they would talk. Of course, the kid shivering before them was no mercenary trained to have tight lips caught in the middle of a mission that turned south. This kid was exhausted, terrified, and no doubt sleep deprived from spending over a day in the cold water half-crushed by rocks. He should be easy to crack...
Before he could even take a step forward, something in his head started screaming at him so loudly, he could have winced. Was he really going to do this? What were his options? Break his fingers? Dislocate his jaw? It wouldn't be difficult to trap the kid's arms behind his back and lift until his shoulders popped out of socket, or even break one of his arms. He could hear the echoing cries of agony somewhere in the depths of his memory from where he'd done just that before. Gajeel's stomach twisted because he didn't want to do this. This kid helped take Krew, he tried to remind himself. Appearances, especially with these things, were deceiving. But he knew from experience what genuine emotion looked like, and he found he couldn't convince himself to move an inch further, not with malicious intent in mind.
"Goddammit..." he swore. He could feel Hajime and Juvia's eyes on his back, driving into him with intensity. His shoulders slumped and he ran his hand over his face, guilty and shameful, "I... can't."
Juvia let out a tight breath and it made Gajeel turn around to look at her. Juvia was pressing a hand to her chest, a look of relief clear on her face.
"Thank Mavis," she whispered, turning her deep blue eyes up to look at him, "Juvia will do it."
"No, Juv-"
She shook her head, a subtle, assuring smile coming to her face, "Juvia won't hurt him."
She stepped up next to him, and Gajeel could feel her magic surge and smooth like the tides of the ocean. She raised a hand towards the chameleon, fingers splayed as she summoned a magic circle into being just out of her reach. She glanced over at Gajeel before making her face blank, "Give Juvia a signal."
Gajeel nodded and made his approach. They were truly all bark and no bite, so appearances mattered. He squatted down to be at the kid's eye level and crossed his arms. The chameleon cringed away from him, gaze darting to Juvia and inciting a fresh wave of terror. Gajeel could taste the stench of it in the air and it made his heart race. It was almost too real for him to handle and he had to fight the urge to buckle and call off their little charade.
"You took one of our friends," he said evenly, "Where is he?"
The chameleon babbled... something. Gajeel could hardly understand if it was an actual sentence or not. Gajeel asked again in Draconic, and the boy's eyes widened for a moment before they squeezed shut again and he babbled the same broken syllables. When he opened his eyes again, he looked like he might start to cry.
"Slower." Gajeel said.
The chameleon's eyes watered and he shook his head, letting out a sob. Gajeel's stomach writhed. Without glancing back to Juvia, he snapped his fingers. The reaction was almost instantaneous. An orb of water blinked into existence, just large enough to surround the chameleon's head. Yellow eyes widened in horror and he wrenched against the metal that had him trapped, desperate to get away. Juvia was watching closely, noting the way he jerked and moved. Just before he would have opened his mouth to swallow water into his lungs, the bubble shattered and the sound of water falling to the ground echoed all around them. The kid gasped and shivered, his body shocked from the frigid water as he fought to catch his breath.
"Let's try again," Gajeel snarled, "Where's our friend?"
A black tongue flashed out and in, followed by an audible whine. The chameleon was quaking and his eyes dashed over to Juvia who stood waiting. Gajeel snapped his hand forward and grabbed his chin, forcing him to look back at him.
"Don't look at her, look at me," he bared his teeth and dropped his voice, and asked again, "Where is our friend."
This time, when the kid spoke it was a rush. His voice pitched up in despair as he spilled his guts about something but Gajeel couldn't understand what. When he finished, he looked deploringly up into Gajeel's eyes, begging to be let go as hopeless tears began to streak down his face. Gajeel released a steadying breath and snapped again. The water returned, this time with Gajeel's hand holding the kid's chin so he couldn't fight. Yellow eyes squeezed shut and tears mixed with the churning water.
Hajime must have read something in the set of Gajeel's shoulders, because his voice sounded hesitant and careful, "Can ye understand what he's sayin' lad?"
Gajeel shook his head.
"...and that probably means he can't understand you?" he sounded as frustrated and resigned as Gajeel felt.
"Yeah."
This time when Juvia dropped her magic, Gajeel activated his. The chameleon coughed and flinched as fingers turned into talons.
"Last chance," Gajeel dropped his voice so low that his chest shook with a deep growl with each syllable he spoke, "Where is he?"
Between labored gasps, the kid turned his eyes up to him. To Gajeel's surprise, he froze. First confusion and then something strange, something Gajeel definitely didn't expect to see, recognition and then awe. He was breathless, whispering as he looked up at him, and then as if realizing something, he went rigid. He was speaking quickly again, but this time far more excited than afraid. It dawned on Gajeel that he was excited to see him.
"What's goin' on, lad?" Hajime asked warily.
"I... don't know," Gajeel grunted, stepping back away now that it was clear fear was going to get them nowhere, "Kill it, Juv."
Her magic dissipated and the chameleon's voice took a nervous edge as Gajeel curled his fingers around the iron cuff at his wrist and pulled. It came off easily and for the first time in three solid minutes the kid stopped talking, staring in dismay at the iron that clattered to the ground. Davian had been able to rend his metal, Gajeel noted, so this kid must not be nearly as strong. Gajeel figured as soon as the second cuff was removed, the kid would run away. So, you could imagine his surprise when instead he stumbled a clumsy step forward and then dropped to the ground at Gajeel's feet. It suddenly dawned on Gajeel that the kid hadn't been whispering, but praying.
"Gajeel?" Juvia asked worriedly, stepping up next to him.
"Hell if I know," he hissed, "Hey, cut it out."
When the kid didn't stop, he started to get angry, "Kid, stop."
It was like he couldn't even hear him. Absolutely still aside from each quick breath he took before he'd begin again, face buried into the ground, he carried on without missing a beat. Gajeel didn't like it, didn't like the thought he was being prayed to. It made his skin crawl in a way that was unfamiliar and nearly overwhelming. He reached down and grabbed him by the nape of his neck, tearing him up from the ground.
"I said stop!"
The chameleon yelped and fell back away from him, pushing himself as far into the wall as he could in an attempt to get away. Gajeel swore. The kid looked like he'd hit him with how he shrank down small and shivered. He could still feel Hajime and Juvia's eyes at his back and to be honest he didn't really know what to do. The fresh fragrance of terror made him think he should just leave. But of course he didn't do that, it was too reasonable. Instead, he let out a tense sigh and walked up to him, thrusting out his hand and waiting expectantly for the chameleon to take it.
It had been an awful mistake, and Gajeel should have known by the way the chameleon regarded him that this wasn't going to end well. He lifted his hand slowly and then hesitated. The light glinted off of his black talons as if they'd been polished. Gajeel's scales were still up, so a physical attack wasn't something he was concerned with when the boy slipped his hand up past where he should have gripped it, instead grasping him firmly by the forearm. In an instant, the world around him faded into something very different. Every muscle in his body snapped taught, his eyes widened as everything played out before him like a cinematic fantasy.
He was in a place that felt far too much like Oragatohl'i for him to be comfortable, although it was devoid of the symbols and reverence that Gajeel had seen and felt within the stone walls. He was staring at a bright portal, the light beyond so powerful he could hardly see what was beyond the stone archway. He felt nervous tension and fear as he took a step out from the comfort and cool of the underground into a cacophony of sound and vine. He shivered, eyes turning up into the green canopy that stretched for what looked like miles and took a deep, drowning breath of fresh air... for the first time.
He was crouched in the high branches of stone, a single goal in mind. Grab hold of the human and don't let go. That was all that was expected, to wrestle it under control and keep it still. It was well known he didn't know how to fight, we wasn't one of the Yaoyo, none of them were. It was strange none of them had come but there must have been a reason beyond their meager comprehension. You do not question or, dare he think, doubt one of the Chosen Rite. Gajeel spotted Krew through the petrified trees. There were at least six others watching, waiting.
Krew looked and smelled weak. None of them had ever encountered a wizard before. They didn't know what to expect. The thing was as crafty as the stories made wizards out to be. They hadn't realized what the silver sheen to the trees and their roots had meant for them when the trap was sprung. They'd bolted but he hadn't been quite able to make it to safety as the others had. He'd dug his nails into the rock but wasn't able to get a grip. He'd called out to the first person he could see but what a waste it had been.
Golden eyes swept coldly to him; the Rite that had been carved into his body was alight with divine power as he gripped the prize he'd been after by the throat. Gajeel immediately recognized the chameleon as the one from Oragatohl'i just before he slipped down the edge and fell to what he was certain would be his death. The rest was a blur of agony, of fruitless struggle, and the realization that he would not die before the rains on the other side of the mountains came. If no one came for him, he would drown here...
The chameleon threw himself away from him and wretched. Gajeel just stood staring at his hand, vaguely aware of Juvia hanging onto his arm. Or rather, she was keeping him up. The memories mixed together, twisted and contorted, giving Gajeel the feeling something had gone wrong. Gajeel swallowed and focused enough to stand upright.
"What did he do to Gajeel?" Juvia asked, voice tense with worry even as he freed himself from her grip gently.
"Don't-don't worry 'bout it, Juv," he drawled, "I just... saw what happened."
"Does 'e know where Krew is?" Hajime demanded, standing with red lightning sizzling up his hands, prepared to fight if something else were to happen.
"No... I don't think he does," Gajeel breathed. The defeat was evident in the way Hajime's shoulders dropped, "He might be gone, Hajime."
The man's eye grew tight and he turned, stomping off towards the ledge. He muttered something about going to get the briefcase and jumped. At the audible splash, Juvia gave him an apologetic look and followed after, presumably to help him or just make sure the old man didn't hurt himself. That left Gajeel alone with the chameleon who was still shaking and clutching his gut, like maybe he'd been sucker punched. Gajeel walked up to him and the kid drew his eyes up hesitantly, tears again streaking down his face.
"What's his name?" Gajeel asked gruffly, "What's his name?"
The chameleon sobbed, looked hopelessly at the ground. They didn't speak each other's language, but that didn't mean he couldn't find a way to get his point across. He knelt down next to him, careful to make sure he didn't do anything that might scare him away. With a pointed talon, he began to draw fluid lines into the stone. He pictured the man in his head, the sly smile and golden eyes that had laughed at him in the temple. He did his best to make the symbols above and below his eye and when he finished, he tapped it, speaking slowly. What had he said in Oragatohl'i? They don't call me God's Hunger for nothing?
"Who is he? God's Hunger?"
The kid's eyes blew wide, his pupils shrinking down to slits in his fear. The terror that Gajeel sensed off of him became exponentially more intense, to the point Gajeel clicked his teeth and flinched. The kid audibly swallowed, crying as he muttered something over and over again. Through the shaking in his voice, Gajeel could almost guess at what he was saying. He's going to kill me.
He wrote two symbols, the likes of which Gajeel couldn't hope to read. He pointed at each of them and said them in turn before combing them together.
"Oro... trushit."
He stood and eyed the edge of the caldera. Maybe they didn't find Krew, but at least he wasn't empty handed. With a solid jump, Gajeel neatly cleared the edge. He treaded easily up to the largest tree he could find and with knife-tip fingers began carving the symbols he'd just been shown large and fearlessly, followed by the name. His stomach rolled with iron and his anger got the better of him. He dropped his magic and pulled the knife from his boot. With barely a thought to what he was doing, he slashed down his palm and smeared in blood the characters again.
"Say the name and derive power from it." Gajeel snarled, remembering the words Papá Ohmara had said, "Orotrushit. Am I getting closer to the right question?"
Author's Notes:
Some backstory for Sam just for shits and giggles:
He is a drug pusher for Sal. Gajeel mentions that he looks more clean cut than most of Sal's guys, mostly because Sal's guys are a super rough group who you could probably guess at a glance were up to no good. Sam used to specialize in shipping paraphernalia hidden in cross-country shipments of limestone, mostly to high dollar clients, until one day he was caught strung out on his own product. Sal runs a notoriously tight ship with a strict policy for keeping his guys sober, especially when they're on the job, so Sam was politely asked to get straight or be prepared to find himself stuffed in a crevice somewhere so deep no one would find him. You can hazard a guess at what he chose. He hates being sober almost as much as he hates his day job sounding the roof of the Rock Bottom Mine, owned by none other than the Crystal Graniteworks Company. In his younger years, he'd fought off rival drug gangs, evaded Rune Knights, and survived many a cave-in, even on one occasion blasting his way out with some spare TNT he'd scrounged up from... somewhere. At this point in his life, very little gets him excited. People who have seen him crack more than a sardonic smile usually end up missing. His codename is Blank Cobra.