A/N: A re-upload AND another chapter. See? I'm not always awful.
Welcome to the world of adult language. And we've now blown by the 10k word mark; I'm hoping to average 5k+ per chapter. Stay healthy, stay safe, and I'll be back to y'all soon. As always, please R&R!
The morning light never reached Talia. Mira had closed the blackout curtains without her realizing, and it was almost 11:30 when Talia rolled off the couch. The light from the bottom of the curtains was suspiciously bright for her usual morning routine. It was only then that she looked at a clock on the wall.
She grumbled and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes: "Mira, you know I don't like sleeping in." No response came. She lazily made her way to the kitchen. Flicking on a light—and wincing at the sudden brightness—she spied a piece of paper on the counter:
Talia—I figured you needed a little extra sleep. Come on over to the guild hall when convenient, maybe we'll even spar a bit this afternoon! –Mira
She hummed in acknowledgement, and went about making coffee. The French press was easy enough: sitting on the counter, but finding the grounds might be—"Aha!" found 'em. A bag of ground coffee had been hiding just behind the flour jar. She absentmindedly found a spoon and scooped six spoonfuls of coffee grounds into the glass jar of the French press. Her pale hand began to open cabinet doors, searching for the hoard of coffee mugs she knew Mira kept. On the third door, she found them.
"Good lord, Mira," she caught a small blue mug as it rolled out of the over-stuffed cabinet, and quickly closed the door shut again.
She filled the wide, blue kettle with water from the tap, and set it back down on the stove. After turning the knob and hearing the pop! pop! pop! of the gas sputter and catch, she left the kettle to heat and walked back into the small living room. It was neat and sparse, save the mess of blankets and pillows haphazardly strewn on the couch. She pulled the blankets and sheets off, folded them, and placed them on a table by the wall. She piled the pillows on top and righted the usual, decorative pillows. Little snowmen and snowflakes smiled back at her through shining sequins. She laughed lightly and rolled her eyes. Leave it to Mira to have such happy, silly things.
Talia looked to her own beaten up pack. It was an over-sized backpack and had once been black, but the sun had faded it to a bleeding brown. It had been mended multiple times, and scars of odd-colored stitching thread peppered the top and sides. It was all she had. She reached out and felt the threadbare fabric, smooth and cool. A handful of clothes and nothings filled it, clothes she had bought on her journeys, a bottle of rosemary-mint oil for her skin and hair, and a small box where she kept her money and trinkets. The idea of having. . . snowman pillowcases just seemed so beautifully useless—she loved it.
The kettle soon started whistling, so he cut the burner and added the hot water to her coffee grounds. The grounds bounced and wove away from the water at first, but soon succumbed and settled. Talia found the spoon again and swirled the grounds in the glass jar, letting her mind wander. It hadn't snowed, but It was threatening to. Deep blue, grey clouds swam overhead, heavy and burdened by their own weight. But here she wouldn't have to worry about the ice on the path down to the sea. She wouldn't have to crack ice from water troughs in the morning or mend a shattered, frozen fence post with numb hands. She'd be a working mage again—travel, job, home, repeat.
But what would home be? Her house was scattered along the sidewalk last time she was here. She could get a room at Fairy Hills, potentially. Or try to see if another mage had a room to rent. She sighed. She was lucky to have spent much of the past year in a small cottage in the north—far removed from cities and their troubles. Now even something as simple as finding a room seemed daunting. But didn't have to think about that quite yet. She had this week and the exams first—she'd deal with getting a new place when they returned. If Mira didn't kick her out before then.
She placed the filter-top on the coffee carafe and pressed the pump down, slowly straining the jar of the grounds and leaving the dark brown liquid gold. She poured herself a cup. She hadn't had good coffee in months, and even Mira's generic brand smelled amazing. The steam rose from the dark mug and twirled prettily around itself in the air, dissipating elegantly. Talia picked up the mug and went back into the living room. She set the steaming cup on the floor and settled down next to it. She crossed her legs and her arms automatically relaxed down along the length of her thighs, fingers softly curled up and inwards. She straightened her back and settled her shoulders. Her eyes closed.
Deeper and deeper her stillness took her, sliding and swimming farther down into herself. The darkness shifted slowly to a deep green, and she gradually came into the light again. But it wasn't the light of Mira's living room.
The grass under her bare feet was cool and dewy. She walked along the gentle hill until she came to a great willow tree. He was wide and tall, his wisps—flecked by small purple flowers—swayed in the light breeze. Talia gently pushed the tendrils aside and stepped into the shade of the tree. A small figure was sitting comfortably between the roots—she was greyed and lined, her faded purple dress nowhere near as wrinkled as she. A long, silver braid wound over her shoulder and settled in her lap.
Talia walked quietly. She didn't want to startle the Old One. She came to the tree roots beside her and delicately placed a hand on an age-spotted forearm.
"Old One," she whispered gently and gave a light squeeze. Silver eyes groggily opened, and Talia smiled down at her.
"Hello, child," she said sleepily, "How was your journey?"
"It was simple enough, I tried to stay off the main roads and keep the quieter spaces," Talia said, and followed with a slightly nervous: "Is she here?"
The Old One nodded and called out: "Morrigan! Would you please join us?"
They heard a scoff from above, and both looked up. Above them, sitting in the tree, was a woman in black. Black hair shone as it curled lazily around her shoulders, and her black dress rustled as she swung her legs in the open air. Her black eyes met Talia's green.
"What do you need?"
"I need nothing, Morrigan," Talia said, respectfully, "I merely wish to update you both." The woman in the tree huffed, but stayed. The Old One had repositioned against the tree slightly, and held a small, encouraging smile.
"We're back in Magnolia. I'm sorry to leave Blackthorne, I truly am, but Master asked that I assist with this year's S-Class trials. And. . ." she looked up at Morrigan, "You're right. I've had my time. It's time to get back to life."
"This next week I'll be devoting to training—I'm sure I haven't kept my hand-to-hand combat skills up to par. Any suggestions this week are more than welcome, as always. But none of these fights, even in the exams next week, should be hyper-strenuous. It's an exam, but also a friendly game. However," she paused and looked to the Old One, "I'd still like to keep working toward Triskellion. If I can't chase storms here, is there another point of energy you'd suggest for my meditations?"
"Will your dragon slayers be here, dear?" her voice was like a favorite sweater—worn, soft, and warm. Talia nodded slightly.
"Two are. Fire and Iron."
"Well they're apt to make a mess," snipped the voice from above, "Be near to their jaunts, and you'll no doubt have plenty." Talia nodded.
"Yes, ma'am. Is there anything I can do for either of you?" Morrigan gave a small huff of annoyance and dissolved back into the air.
"Guess that's a no, then. . ." Talia said, the hint of irritation not escaping the Old One.
"Just be patient with her. She means well."
"It's been a year, Old One," replied Talia, and tilted her head back onto the tree in frustration., "I don't know what I can do."
"She's just particularly terse since the rains have gone. Those meditations help her, and it is difficult for her to remain out of suspension without excess energy. Going even a few days without it can be uncomfortable."
Talia winced a bit. She hadn't meditated yesterday. And the few days beforehand hadn't had proper outside energy sources. If Morrigan needed excess energy to keep herself in this realm and out of suspension, she really would be running low. "I'll find something today, but I don't think it will be as clean as with our storms."
The Old One nodded, and pulled a knotted wooden walking stick out from the wood of the tree. It twisted itself into just the right height and handle. She pulled herself up with it-though truly she was quite small, barely taller than Master Makarov—and walked slowly to the edge of the willow. Talia followed.
"Enjoy the time with you family, child," she said, silver eyes warm, "and try to forget the ache of your broken binds." She reached out and squeezed Talia's fingers. The Old One stayed within the willow as Talia began the journey back, back through the darkness.
Green eyes opened back to Mira's living room. Talia sighed. Well that was stupid. Of course missing her meditations would be bad for the Morrigan. She could barely help her out of suspension as it was. She really needed to be better about sticking to her meditation quotas. Her eyes found the clock again.
"Gosh darn it, Mira," she grumbled, "How the hell is it already noon." Her hand reached out for the coffee beside her. She found the cool ceramic and threw her head back with a groan. I can't even have my hot coffee. Nothing left to do but dump the coffee and head to the Guild Hall for a fresh batch. Which is exactly what she did.
She went straight to the Guild Hall. Today was not the day to wind through the streets and live in memories. Maybe she'd test that torment tomorrow, but she'd wasted enough of today already. She pulled opened the massive front door and slipped in quietly amongst the madness inside. Apparently, the boasting had begun.
Natsu stood on a table, yelling something ridiculous at the Iron Dragon Slayer, who was yelling right back. Talia smiled. Fairy Tail really didn't change. New coat of paint, a couple new members, but still the same heart. She felt warm. And she didn't realize a tear had escaped until she felt the hot streak cool in the frigid air against her skin. She quickly wiped it away, but her smile never faded.
She kept a wide berth of the arguing boys, even with all the extra sleep, she wasn't quite awake. And she didn't especially want to wake up via a chair to the face. Once she reached the bar, she leaned against it, one hip cocked comfortably. Mira popped out from the kitchen door with a platter in each hand. Talia watched her friend set the food in front of her guild mates with a smile and a reminder of their tab before coming back to the bar and finding her way in front of her redheaded friend.
"Somebody slept in," Mira said playfully. Talia rolled her eyes and caught her friend in a faux-glare.
"Inadvertently so."
"What can I get you for afternoon breakfast, then?"
"Just some hard-fried eggs and fruit, please. Raspberries if you have any. And a cup of coffee would be lovely." Mira nodded and hummed her way back to the kitchen.
Natsu and Gajeel were still yelling at each other, though Gajeel was now also on top of the table. As much as Talia appreciated the magic power boost from the ruckus, their sheer decibels were starting to give her a headache. The constant noise was pinging uncomfortably behind her eyes and hammering into the back of her skull. Her brows furrowed and she glared at the two men.
"I'M NEW TO THE GUILD. ME NOT GETTING CHOSEN FOR THE EXAM IS JUST TIMING, FLAMEBRAIN."
"OH YEAH? THEN EXPLAIN JUVIA'S SPOT. SHE'S JUST AS NEW AS YOU ARE, RUSTBUCKET."
"THAT'S DIFFERENT!"
"HOW?!"
Talia rubbed her temples. That's enough. I'm done with this. She glared at the boys and snapped her fingers in their direction.
A silver sound wave pulsed through both Dragon Slayers, knocking them off their table and rocketed them into the closest wall. The wall held, but there were definitely cracks.
"Talia!" Mira whined from the kitchen and Talia gave a sheepish look in return.
"Sorry, Mira." The demoness poked her head out from behind the kitchen door.
"When I told you we'd blow off some steam this afternoon, this was not what I meant," she chastised, but a cheeky smile crept out, "We'll get some food in you and then head out. I've almost got your eggs done, anyway." She disappeared back into the kitchen. Talia turned back toward the now-quieted group, and found them glancing between themselves and her.
"What?" Talia said blankly.
"Are you and Mira really gonna go at it?" Natsu said excitedly as he regained a seat at the table and brushed drywall dust off his blue coat.
Talia cocked an eyebrow and the phrasing and felt a smile creep onto her face: "We really need to work on your phrasing, Captain Innuendo," Gray let out a bark of a laugh from the other side of the table. "But yes, Mira and I are planning to spar this afternoon."
"Can I come?" Natsu squeaked, his eyes impossibly large and glistening with hope. Talia smiled.
"Sure, if you want."
He punched the air in his excitement. The others at the table sputtered along behind him.
"W-wait! I wanna see this fight too!" stammered Gray, quickly.
"Always wanted to see you ladies fight; never thought I'd get the chance for some one-on-one though," Gajeel gave a jokingly sleazy grin. Talia's smile got wider and she rolled her eyes at the Iron Dragon Slayer.
"What about you, Lucy? You want in, too?" Talia baited, but the little blonde mage was quick to decline.
"Uh, no. Thanks. I don't need to die today. But I'm happy to watch if you're sparring."
Mira came out of the kitchen, plate and steaming mug in-hand. She walked down the bar and placed both in front of Talia. Hands empty, she brushed them onto the apron over her blue dress.
"Apparently, we'll be having quite the little audience today," Talia prodded Mira.
"Well that should be fun! We might consider dragging Freed in, then, to set up a damage control barrier," Mira's voice lilted along the hall, "We wouldn't want anyone to get hurt during our little game."
Wendy and Carla walked over to the group, then, having slipped quietly in through the front door. "Did I hear something about games?" Wendy asked innocently. Talia smiled at the girl.
"Mira and I aren't very good at fighting without a directive. We're not the biggest fans of general conflict. So, anytime we spar, we make it some sort of game that we can get competitive about."
"I seem to remember the last time we played Hide and Seek, somebody sliced down half a mountain and still lost," Mira's voice bordered on sickeningly sweet and she batted her eyelashes at Talia, who crossed her arms, huffed, and looked away from the group.
"The rockslide was an accident," Talia grumbled, and embarrassment flushing her cheeks.
Levy climbed up the final stairs from the basement library and joined the group, book in hand and speed readers still on.
"Ah, our Master of Games has arrived!" Talia proclaimed, looking to Levy. The script mage perked at the attention and smiled.
"Sparring day, then? What kind of game are you ladies thinking of?" she sat down at the table next to Lucy.
"Something moderately close-combat. I'd rather not have to keep up with Batwing Express in the sky," Talia teased. But in reality, close combat was exactly what she needed. It was one of her weak points after a year of minimal practice.
"I'd say Capture the Flag, but that requires a few more players," Mira mused. Natsu jumped from his seat—no doubt ready to blurt out that he would volunteer for a team—but Lucy grabbed his scarf and pulled him back down to earth.
"All right, well then why don't we scale it down?" Levy replied, "Each of you tie a ribbon around you somewhere. First person to steal the other's ribbon and survive a 30-second retrieval period wins."
"So if you lose your ribbon and get it back within the 30 seconds, we keep playing?" Talia checked.
"Yup! Whomever steals the ribbon must defend it. If they can survive 30 seconds without it being stolen back or getting knocked out, they win."
Talia hummed in approval. "Makes sense to me. Guess I better find some ribbon."
"I've got some in the store room for holiday decorations. I'll bring you a piece," Mira said, and turned back to the kitchen. Talia cut up the rapidly-cooling eggs on the plate in front of her. She grabbed the hot sauce from the side of the bar, and poured some of the red liquid onto the plate. As she made her way through the food and drink in front of her, she let her mind quiet and relax. Mira came back out, briefly, and placed an entire box of fresh raspberries in front of her.
"No use only giving you some now-you'll eat me out of berries whether I ration you or not," Mira winked. Talia thanked her with a large smile and gladly took them. They wouldn't last long, anyway.
The clearing outside of town was lovely. It was likely an old field left to fallow and forgotten years later. It was wide and flat and unobstructed by trees: a perfect sparring arena. Their group walked a ways into the field so as not to directly disturb those passing on the road. Freed and Bickslow had joined them, having been spotted on the road out of the city for their own training time. Apparently Evergreen had been irritated by Freed's passive rebuff of her skill, and she did not join them.
Freed began work on a large, circular rune barrier, and Levy followed behind, checking his work. While they worked, those not fighting settled into varying pose of comfort. Lucy plopped to the ground and wrapped a fuzzy blanket tightly around her shoulders to block out the chill of the winter air. Natsu, Gray, Bickslow, and Gajeel remained standing, seeming to analyze the terrain and weighing the fighters' odds in their heads. Likely, drinks would be at stake. Wendy sat next to Lucy on the ground, and the latter opened a warm, blanketed arm to the girl, offering a spot next to her. Wendy gratefully accepted and snuggled into Lucy's warmth. The Exceed kept to each other, Pantherlilly and Carla discussing potential tactics, while Happy simply pined after the white-furred Exceed.
Talia stretched her arms above her head and rolled her neck. She shrugged off her black leather jacket and handed it to Levy as she walked back toward the group. Levy promptly put it over her own shoulders and gave a light Thanks! Freed came back to the group as well, having finished the rune barrier.
"I made it a large area, but the runes will keep you both inside until a victor is deemed. It will also dampen any attack that could escape—no damage will accrue outside the barrier from the actions done within it."
"Thanks, Freed!" Mira piped.
Talia spread her hands wide and stretched her arms—fingers splayed out as far as they could. Her dark green sweater hugged her torso, the moderate v-neck and long sleeves looking entirely modest when juxtaposed next to Mira's deep blue halter dress. She didn't know how Mira wasn't shivering in that sleeveless thing—Talia, herself, was very glad to be in her black jeans and black leather tall boots.
Mira turned to Talia with an outstretched hand. In it was a red ribbon. Talia took the ribbon and set to tying it around the upper portion of her right arm. She turned back to Mira and noticed the demoness had tied her own—right around her neck. The thought of something tight around her neck made Talia slightly queasy, and she swallowed to remind herself that her own throat remained unobstructed.
"A 30-second timer will appear when someone's ribbon is stolen. Remain unsuccessful in retrieving your stolen ribbon in the 30-second period and your opponent wins. Retrieve your ribbon back, and the timer disappears," Freed chimed, and stood next to Bickslow. They were both looking forward to this match—maybe something within it would help them in the S-Class Exams, some sort of weakness for either mage.
Talia and Mira met eyes.
"Ready?"
"Ready."
They walked into the makeshift arena together.
Purple runes shimmered in the air as they entered the perimeter, and line of runes stretched outward into the field, giving a visual of the boundaries. Nobody comes, nobody goes, thought Talia, feeling the hum of her own power warm her skin. Each woman took their place ten paces apart.
"If we're actually going to use this as a training session, you should probably start in your normal form and go from there," suggested Mira.
"Are you trying to capitalize on my burning hatred of cardio?" Talia shot back, playfully.
"Hey, I'll be the one dealing with your whining about it all week, so I may as well have fun with it." Never underestimate the mischievousness of a Take-Over mage.
"You ladies ready?" called Levy from down the field. Mira and Talia both called back in the affirmative. "All right, then let's begin!" A bell sounded within the runes and the game was officially afoot.
Except. . . neither of them moved.
"You sure you don't just want to give me that ribbon, Mira? We can go back home and I'll make you a nice cup of tea to warm up with."
Mira smiled fiendishly, "As lovely as that sounds, I think I'd rather have your ribbon instead. You could just give it to me and forego all that cardio you hate." She batted her eyes sweetly.
Talia smirked, "Tempting. But I think not." She flicked her hand forward, toward her opponent, a silver shockwave blasting in-between the two. Talia had jumped back, as had Mira to dodge.
The dust settled quickly in the cold air. It seemed that Mira was ready to up the ante—instead of her usual cheery form, Talia was greeted by the imposing form of Mira's Satan Soul. Great bat wings beat behind her, floating her in place, and a wide, black tail slithered in the air behind her. The red ribbon still laid prettily at her throat. Talia huffed at the sight. Fine. Let's play. Talia took a deep, steadying breath, and felt her power beat with her own heart.
She launched toward Mira at an incredible speed—the demoness barely had time to raise her arm to block. Talia pulsed again and jolted right, suddenly behind the mage. Mira's tail came up to swat her away, but she was already gone. Back to the front again, hand out and ready to snatch the red strands at Mira's neck. The Demoness flipped backwards, aiming a kick at Talia's chest that barely missed.
Wendy was enthralled, "She's so fast!"
"She's collecting and pulsing sound waves beneath her feet to get that speed," Freed supplied to Wendy's silent question, "But I've never seen her able to control them this precisely before." He gave Bickslow a pointed look. If even her basic magic had improved this much, there was no telling what else had improved.
They were a flurry of limbs, but for every punch Talia threw, Mira blocked. The sound waves packed behind Talia's elbows for extra momentum had begun to leave bruises, and her breath came deep and ragged. She leapt back from the demoness. This is getting me nowhere. I'll never snatch that damn ribbon at this rate. She shook her arms out to her sides—they had started to go numb from the quick, successive movements. She glared at the silver-haired mage cross from her, and was met with a menacing smile. Tch. Screw this. She stood tall and closed her eyes.
"Is she insane?" exclaimed the little black Exceed, "Why would you close your eyes in front of an opponent like this?" A shush came from Natsu.
"This part always freaks me out," said Gray, uncomfortably. His feet didn't move, but every other part of him stretched away from the fighting pair. Even he got chills when Talia fought.
"What do you-" Gajeel began, but trailed off when he heard it. It started faintly, barely more than a tattered whine on the breeze, but it quickly built intensity. The three dragon slayers covered their ears as it went higher and higher, piercing to the point of pain. It was a primal, soul-shattering wail and it coursed like ice through their veins.
Silver wisps of magic power swirled around Talia, her red hair flying wildly. The scream rode the wind to her and seemed to wrap her in its agony. The silver now fully encased her—a quick slip of red their only clue that she hadn't been swallowed up by her own magic.
And then it stopped.
Silver tendrils dripped off of her and dissipated into the air before they touched the ground. Gone were the black jeans and boots—a ragged and tattered dress, the color of forgotten bones, clung to a sickeningly pale frame. The skirt was shredded and dirty, and she wore no shoes. Her hair floated gently around her, twisting around sounds in the air. Her head was cocked at an odd angle and the unhinged smile on her face was unsettling to all who beheld it.
"H-her eyes. . ." stammered Wendy, terrified.
Talia's eyes had the opal sheen of half-death, but silver irises flashed as liquid mercury. She staggered toward Mira on a stilted and uneven stride, that unnatural smile never faltering. The white scars on her neck had turned angry—red and raw as if torn anew.
"What the fuck. . ." shook Gajeel. The whole sight was just so. . . wrong. He knew he was called The Banshee, but he didn't know it meant. . . this.
A distant church bell tolled, the echoes wide and sad.
"Give me thy ribbon, sister-dear," Talia cooed, "I wish to catch the moon with it," her voice was twisted and hoarse, a battered echo of a scream thrashed one too many times across a mountain range. But it still lilted in an odd, mad way, like joining a song only she could hear.
"You'll have to come and get it—if you can," Mira teased. Talia's mouth contorted into a smile of menacingly bared teeth. She lunged forward.
"Her entire style of movement has changed," said Pantherlilly, stunned.
"In this form she can channel those sound pulses through her body and travel, although haltingly, at the speed of sound," supplied Freed. He crossed his arms across his chest. He watched as Mira began to have difficulty blocking Talia's attacks. The latter's hand-to-hand technique wasn't perfect, and her endurance had surely eroded over the past year, but even rusty he wouldn't want to face her. Not that he did any better against Mira during the Thunder Palace Games—he shivered at the memory.
Mira dodged a kick from Talia and flew backwards into the air—her breathing beginning to labor. Talia just watched her, eyes focused neither here nor there, body swaying slightly.
"The moon has cracked and broken, where it sits upon the sky. I shall stitch and stach and snicker-snatch it back to where it lie," the sing-song way of speaking only added to the observers' discomfort.
"What is she even saying? That makes no sense," said Lucy, utterly confused and borderline terrified. Whatever Talia had become, it made the hair on the back of her neck prickle.
"That's how she is in this form," replied Levy, thoughtfully, "It's all riddles and rhymes and twisted songs. It's like the fae-speech my Grandmother used to use when she was telling me bedtime stories."
"It's still Talia, no matter how different she looks or moves or sounds, just. . . odd," Freed added.
"Her scars. . ." Levy said quietly, "Those weren't there before, were they, Freed?"
Freed squinted, focusing on the flash of red at Talia's pale throat. He couldn't remember her having scars before she left. Wait.
"No. And the only time I can recall her injured there, was right before she left," He looked up at Bickslow.
"That's right. . . she was so wrapped up that I almost forgot," said the sieth mage. "But that's why they're scars at all. She had a panic attack when she came-to in the infirmary. Ripped off the bandages on her neck and refused to have them replaced."
"I remember her screaming," Levy focused on the grass at her feet, "we could hear it all the way in the main hall."
"She thrashed so much, Laxus and Elfman had to pin her down," Freed's eyes were hard as he watched the two dark mages still conversing in the field. He could still see her struggling ferociously against the two men; like a desperate animal caught in a snare.
Talia felt the hiss of the grass in the breeze, the crackle of dead leaves on branches, and the whistle of wind off the mountain. They tickled her skin and danced through her, leaving her feeling crisp and jittery. I just want the ribbon. Please won't you give it to me? Thought and action blurred in this form, so she wasn't sure if she had spoken. Feral in the purest sense—a lack of inhibition or pause—this form was terrifyingly freeing. Half here, half. . . somewhere, nowhere, everywhere at once. Alive and more-than-alive and long dead.
But she wanted that ribbon. Her body swayed at the lightest ghost of a breeze, and her arm raised up toward her demon friend. Her tongue lolled out and swiped across her cracked lips. She saw Mira brace.
"Pandemonium."
Mira's eyes went wide and she flapped her black bat wings in vain to escape. But the silver tendrils slithered around her in the air, pulsing with magic power. More and more gathered and swirled around her as she desperately looked around for a way out. But more and more silver surrounded her. And then everything was noise.
She was pummeled by sound in all directions. Her ears felt like they were being shredded from the inside and her eyes vibrated from the pressure. She couldn't hear, she couldn't see, she could barely think. She collapsed into herself, hands over her ears and knees tucked into her chest.
The black magic circle by Talia's outstretched hand turned lazily in the air. The black letterings were old and twisted through each other, linking the circle within its own layers. She waited. She knew that her skill had improved, but she also knew Mira's strength. She just needed to gauge the right angle. . .
The silver sphere exploded, rays of purple magic scattering in every direction. Mira stood, grounded now, and shook her head to clear her senses. Slowly the ringing stopped, and the white light bled into the colors of the world. And directly before her was. . . Talia. She registered—too late—the feeling of the ribbon loosed from her neck and peeling away in a light tug. Then a flash of a crooked smile, and she was gone.
A large purple timer appeared in the air above them. A buzzer sounded and the clock began to count down. 30. . . 29. . . 28. . .
"Shit!" panicked Mira. A whimsical laugh sounded all around her.
"Where, oh where, my dearest be," floated Talia's twisted voice, "For she'll surely come back in search of me."
Silver eyes flashed at the edge of Mira's vision. She turned, but the air was empty. Wait. Air.
24. . . 23. . . 22. . .
Talia hopped and skipped along sound pulses in the air above Mira, the red ribbon in her hand fluttering lightly.
Mira felt the air shift above her—it was small, but there was a reverberation of movement.
"Evil Explosion."
A purple arc of power sliced through the space above Mira's head as she twisted around to spy her foe. Talia bounced out of the way of the blast, prancing through the air like a drunken dancer. She flipped back down to the ground, landing on her feet and steadying herself with one hand to the earth. Her tattered dress splayed out around her and her eyes were wild.
"I spy thee ribbon-less," Talia said sweetly. She glanced up to the timer. 17 seconds.
But that glance cost her—she was still for just a moment, but a moment was all Mira needed.
"Soul Extinction."
Freed froze. That spell had shot him out of the sky and left him in the infirmary for two days. Surely she wasn't using that in a friendly sparring match. . .
Talia realized her mistake too late. She turned her gaze back from the timer and found herself point-blank against one of Mira's strongest attacks. She tried to brace herself, but there wasn't much to be done. Purple magic energy hissed and burned through her before exploding. The blast sent her careening out of the sky and threw her back to earth. The ground split where she fell, and everyone felt the tremors.
Waiting for the smoke to clear, Freed glanced up at the timer. 14 seconds.
. . . 13. . . 12. . .
She still has the ribbon! His excitement spread as the rest of the group realized the same. Gajeel's jaw had dropped, and Natsu let out a short huff of a laugh. The smoke continued to clear, and a dark figure was visible through the hazy light.
"She's still standing?" exclaimed Lucy, shocked.
"That's our girl! Get'em, Tal!" Bickslow bellowed, his tattooed tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. A smile flashed from behind the clearing cloud of dust.
10. . . 9. . .
Talia turned her head and spat blood onto the ground beside her. "Ow," she said with an irritated tone.
Mira lunged, gold-clawed hand outstretched and looking to sink into anything it could grab from the sound mage.
But Talia was serious now. She was winning, but that didn't mean she had won just yet. Her silver eyes locked on the Take-Over mage before her, and she quickly put up both hands in defense. A silver sphere caught the light around her for the briefest moment-a shield of pure sound. Until it wasn't a shield anymore. She pushed forward, and the sphere detonated outward in all directions in a pin-pointed thunderclap.
Everything convulsed, and the air felt like it had fractured in the resonance. Even though the runes around them refused to allow damage to exit the arena, the collection of mages still felt the aftershocks. Pantherlilly panicked at the sound, screeching and holding his ears down as he hid behind Gajeel. Lucy and Wendy were stuck between awe and a visceral terror that rang through their bones. Natsu, Gray, Freed and Bickslow all watched with resolute faces—this was a foe they would have to fight in the Exam, and they needed to figure out how to survive.
Gajeel was struck silent, his eyes wide. He knew that she was called The Banshee. He knew that she was a sound mage. But he didn't know. . . this. How in the hell was that fucker, Dimitri, able to twist her into his personal punching bag? She could've cracked him in half.
Mira had slammed into the rune barrier and dropped heavily to the ground. She let her Take-Over fade around her, leaving her back in her blue halter dress. Battered and breathing heavily, she watched the timer run out.
3. . . 2. . . 1.
END flashed purple where the time had been, and the rune arena faded into the wintry breeze.
Talia closed her eyes and felt her magic cocoon around her. She sighed and released her power to the wind. The silver wisps around her faded, and she was left in the clothes she began in—black jeans, boots, and dark green sweater. She held up the tattered red ribbon triumphantly and waved it in the air to her friends—an ecstatic smile on her face.