A/N: Told ya I'd be back soon. Didn't get as far on the next chapter as I would've liked, but wanted to post this anyway. We're slowly working our way back to scripted scenes, so you'll notice a bit of intermingling with familiar dialogue here.
One of my favorite things, I've found, about choosing a non-main character as a character crux is that there's all of these lovely empty spaces to fill. AKA: There's three months between Tenrou and the GMG. GUESS WHO'S GONNA FILL IT. THIS CHICK. Also: Did nobody get my Alice in Wonderland and Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell references? No? Just me? K.
Thank you to all who took the time to fave/review/randomly glance through.
Guest: Oy vey. You're insane, but fair. I'm looking for a new job, myself, and man does it suck. But if you ever need a pick-me-up or want to bounce ideas/characterization moments, my inbox is open. Your long reviews always make me super happy, so please keep them up if you can!
Fun little fight scene this time 'round, as there will be in the next chapter. Please fave/review/send carrier pigeon/etc.
Strange noises caught the breeze as they walked, Freed now able to hold himself. Talia turned her head this way and that, trying to hear better and to understand.
"What's wrong, Tal?" asked Bickslow, his babies chanting "Tal!" "Tal!" after him.
She furrowed her brows. "I don't know. I hear fighting, but. . . something doesn't feel right."
A red flare shot into the sky, neon flaming shards dripping off as it hovered.
Talia's look turned cold. "Someone's here." She glanced at Bickslow and Freed. They were already injured and battle-weary. But they'd need to get back to basecamp for Freed to set an enchantment around the infirmary tent. First rule of battle—secure that which you cannot lose. "We need to move." The boys nodded and they quickened their pace.
Increasingly often, the clatter and crash of battle reached her ears. Anger and irritation bubbled beneath her skin. Someone has come to my island. Someone harms my family. Her fists clenched.
Old One, Morrigan, she called into her mind. She felt acknowledgement from both. Plan has changed. Someone threatens the guild. This is no longer a friendly game.
Morrigan's menacing smile spread in the darkness. These kinds of fights—clean and simple and clear—these were what she craved.
Talia felt the buzz of adrenaline spread through her, followed by an almost overwhelming sense of possessiveness. It is mine, it hissed. You shall not have it. It drew on her like an addiction. Her fingertips twitched and her eyes darted, searching for a foe. For a moment, all she wanted in the world was to hear the tight snap! of small bones breaking, and maybe even the wider crack! of a femur. To uncork the red rivers dammed up under smooth skin—
A powerful pressure of magic power jolted her out of her thoughts.
"That magic. . ." Freed said haltingly, "the Master is fighting."
Talia's eyes were wide and her breaths shallow. "No. The Master is losing."
Explosions shook the island from every direction. Birds flew frantically from the treetops as roots fought to keep their tether to the earth.
"We need to get to Basecamp. Move," she ordered, and the boys obeyed.
Talia felt her footsteps quicken as they were finally coming up on the meeting site. But her stomach dropped as she entered the clearing.
The camp was gone. Splintered and strewn everywhere, the pieces of their home-away-from-home laid broken around her. And in a heap at one edge of the glade were the two Strauss sisters—unmoving.
Talia screamed Mira's name and sprinted over. She knelt next to her unconscious friend and carefully rolled her off Lisanna. The Animal Soul mage coughed and slowly came-to as she felt the weight leave her chest.
"Talia. . . ?"
"Lisanna, what happened?" Talia demanded as she looked over Mira. She was covered in injuries—bruises were already forming from excessive blunt force impact and she was covered in burns and cuts.
"One of Grimoire Heart's Seven Kin baited her into fighting him by holding me captive. . . she—she couldn't beat him," tears filled her bright blue eyes. "It's all my fault. She told me to run, and I was too stubborn."
"Yes, you were," Talia's words were harsh, but her voice and eyes were kind, "Please, next time, just listen." She turned to the men nearing them, "Bickslow, help me with her. Freed, see what remnants you can gather. We need to make a place for the wounded." They nodded and set to their tasks.
Once Mira was comfortably on a cot, Bickslow and Lisanna began hobbling together a structure to keep the sun off. Levy broke her way through the green walls of the glade, a barely-conscious Gajeel on her shoulders. Talia rushed to her side and took most of his weight. She barked an order to Freed to ready another place for him.
Carefully, Levy and Talia lowered Gajeel onto the mattress, and he groaned as his body stretched out. But his breathing gradually turned peaceful as he began to get some much-needed sleep.
Freed came to Talia where she sat, between Mira and Gajeel.
"We need to set an enchantment."
Talia nodded. But she wasn't fully listening to him—she was listening to the sounds of battle all around them. Some were faint and some were near, but the sheer force behind the percussive impacts were telling. She stood suddenly.
Elfman hobbled into the glade, carrying a limp Evergreen.
"As much as I hate to admit it. . . we don't stand a chance against Grimoire Heart," tears rolled down his cheeks and he fought against sobs, "They're way too strong." His eyes caught Mira's unconscious form. It only succeeded in worsening his blather. "I'm a sad excuse for a man," he sniffled, "I couldn't protect my big sister or my partner from those monsters." The sobs broke through now, warping his speech.
Levy's fists clenched.
"It's time for us to come together. We all wanted to become S-Class wizards so badly that we let the trial drive us apart. I know it was only for a little bit, but everyone was thinking about themselves instead of the guild," Levy's voice quivered as she glanced toward Gajeel's unconscious form. "Well, we can't afford to do that anymore." She sniffled and looked to the sky in a useless attempt to keep her tears from falling. "Our enemy may be overwhelming, but we're the Fairy Tail guild. If we put all of our strength and our feelings together, there's no way they can beat us. Please, everybody," she looked around her desperately, "We have to come together, I'm begging you."
Talia's brows were furrowed as she looked down at Mira and Gajeel's sleeping faces. She wouldn't let them be taken from her.
A light rain began to pitter-patter on the awning that Bickslow and Lisanna had set up. It brought a welcome cool breeze and the sound of the droplets on the leaves was calming. Talia stepped out of the infirmary tent and into the raindrops. She tilted her face to the sky and closed her eyes, letting the rain wash off the dust and sweat of her earlier fight. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
"We will beat them," her voice was heavy with resolve, "but we need to think this through." Her eyes opened again. She turned to Elfman, "You and Ever need to rest—you look like you could topple over any moment." She heard the low rumble of thunder in the distance and enjoyed the feeling of the sounds rolling over her skin. "Freed, Levy, work on the enchantment around whatever we have." She turned and walked back into the dry covered space. "I need to meditate while we have this thunder—" she looked pointedly at Levy and Freed and her tone left no room for negotiation "—you fetch me if anyone from Grimoire Heart comes into this clearing, understood? Do not play the hero." She looked down to her resting comrades. "If they want a fight, I'll give it to them."
Levy was undoubtedly about to say something about teamwork and strength in numbers, but a look from Freed had the words die on her tongue. She swallowed heavily and nodded. The two script mages set to work on the defense enchantment and Talia settled down on the ground by her friends. Her eyes closed and she wandered back into her mind once more.
Those able worked in quiet. Freed and Levy focused on writing and perfecting the enchantment, while Bickslow and Lisanna pieced the camp back together slowly. They managed to expand the infirmary tent, enclosing it to protect from any wind that may kick up. Lisanna righted the forgotten stew pot.
"Should we try to make some food?" she called.
"Only if you can do it without fire," responded Bickslow, "Can't have the smoke giving away our location." She nodded and set to searching for the packs of dry food.
A rustle at the tree line made everyone freeze. They all braced, hopeful that it was one of their guildmates, but ready for one of the Kin.
Pantherlily pushed through the leaves, his small form wading through the undergrowth. He saw the group before him relax. "Good, I'm glad you're all still here. I half worried that you would have had to move camp." He looked around at the destruction, "Though it seems like you've already weathered plenty."
"It's good to see you, Lily," said Levy as she stood to greet him. Lisanna joined her as the Exceed entered the rune barrier unencumbered.
"There should be more joining shortly. Happy isn't far behind."
"Natsu and the others are headed this way?" asked Lisanna happily.
"It'll be so good to see everybody again," chimed Levy.
"Well, they should be here soon. In fact, they're following Carla to camp as we speak."
"Oh thank goodness," Lisanna sighed, "With so many wizards down, we're gonna need all the help we can get. I'm just glad Talia is here already."
Lily's eyes turned cold and suspicious. "Why is she not out here helping you all patch things up?"
Levy turned toward the infirmary tent. "She's meditating. The thunder from the storm helps replenish her magic power and heal whatever wounds she already has."
"I don't like it," snapped the Exceed, much to the surprise of the two women before him, "I know you two like her, but I don't trust her. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if she was a spy for Grimoire Heart."
"What?" exclaimed Levy, "No way. It's Talia. She'd never betray the guild like that."
"Really? She's already lashed out at Gajeel unprovoked. And where has she been for the past year? Who's to say she didn't defect to Grimoire Heart while she was gone and entirely out of contact from the guild?"
"I'll not have you make such absurd accusations," Freed's voice was cool, but the anger laced underneath was deadly.
"Really? Then why isn't she out here helping you all rebuild camp? Why is she alone with our wounded?" Lily glared back.
"You think Talia is going to hurt her own guildmates?" laughed Bickslow, hands on his hips.
"I've seen her do it before. I just don't think enough of her story adds up and I don't trust her."
"You have a lot to learn about people, Pantherlily," Freed said coldly. He turned back to the enchantment, "You're a fool to question Talia's loyalty simply because you don't know every moment of her story." His glare cut back to the Exceed from over his shoulder, his eye black with magic, "Threaten her integrity again, and I will cut you down where you stand."
Freed's words held a palpable anger that lingered around Pantherlily, but he tried to push through it. He turned back to Levy and Lisanna, and noticed that their body language had changed. They were tense around him. He wasn't sure if the cause was his suspicion of Talia or the possibility of him being right, but they were more calculated now.
"We'll be adding one more to the wounded when they arrive with Master," he continued. The women nodded.
A splash of a footstep caught their attention. They all turned to the figure entering the clearing.
"Here's a crazy idea—" he said as he strode confidently toward the camp, "Why don't you surrender? Nothing wrong with that—differences in power abound in this unbalanced world of ours" His glasses caught the grey light as rain soaked his blue coat. He put his hand to his heart dramatically, "Feel your drums pound faster against their cages. And prepare yourselves for oblivion." His cocky smile flashed under the rain. He pointed to them. "Because that's where you're headed."
"Oh yeah?" called Lily, shifting to his battle form, "That's what you think, scoundrel!"
Lisanna looked back to the tent. We can't let him near the infirmary. We already have so many wounded. She looked around at the guildmates still standing. Everyone is already maxed out. There's no way we can beat this guy. Talia's voice rang in her mind.
-"Do not play the hero. If they want a fight, I'll give it to them."-
"The Seven Kin of Purgatory have come calling. My name is Rusty Rose. I spy a feast of dreams waiting to be devoured."
"We'll need to put an end to this quickly—none of us have much power left," Lily said in a low voice. Lisanna and Levy nodded, but the former glanced back at the tent.
"Two young girls and cat guarding the infirmary. . . oh dear. And here I was, hoping to be involved in a more epic battle." Rusty rose sighed, "Well, no matter. This is the hand fate has chosen for me, so I shall play it unencumbered by mercy!"
"I don't understand it—how can you people just be so cold-hearted? Did you get to be the strongest dark guild by preying on the defenseless?" Levy snapped. "How is that supposed to show your strength?"
Rusty Rose turned with a flourish. "It must be done; those poor peoples' souls would never have a prayer of surviving the Grand Magic World," he smiled wide, "So we're simply helping nature run its course. By speeding along the inevitable."
"You'll never create an ideal world by killing whomever you think doesn't deserve it," growled Pantherlily.
Rusty Rose gave a huff of a laugh, "You should use your righteous convictions to stop me. The most affective weapon against darkness is the light that you claim to wield."
He charged suddenly, his right arm transforming into a massive claw. It slashed and threw each of them across the clearing.
"What sounds!" he exclaimed as they howled in pain, "Cries and screams! They provide such a perfect soundtrack to the end of your dreams!"
A shot at his back sent him floundering into the dirt.
"Who dares silence my symphony?!" he roared in anger.
"You're gonna realize pretty quickly," ground Bickslow's anger, "that we don't always like to play by the rules in our guild. We'll do whatever it takes to beat you."
"Simply put," continued Freed cooly, "since you've harmed a member of the Thunder Legion, the rules no longer apply."
"Dorian Formation!"
Bickslow's soul-casks spun rapidly in the air until a glowing green eye of magic appeared. The hum of magic grew in intensity before it shot a destructive beam toward Rusty Rose. But it clattered off the massive kite shield that was suddenly in his hand.
"In my left hand, a golden shield, through which no attack shall ever pass," he grinned.
Freed unsheathed his saber and wrote along the wind. Tendrils of purple magic shot toward Rusty Rose, but wings appeared at his feet and he easily dodged.
He cackled, "You cannot defeat my rich imagination! An eternal well-spring of limitless power!" His voice suddenly echoed ominously: "Come forth my guardian saint-beast—Belfast the Wind Storm! May your mighty gusts sing through their bones!"
Pantherlily's eyes opened wide at the massive beast materialized before them, "Where did that. . . come from?" he said incredulously.
"Summoning magic—but like nothing I've ever seen before," said Levy in shock.
"Be careful! This guy is really dangerous!" yelled Lisanna. She didn't know why, but she was suddenly worried for their safety—and her eye wouldn't leave Bickslow's form.
"Oh, we know how to handle this fool," called Bickslow, "Seith Magic: Possession!" A light shimmered over the beast and it shuddered from the spell. Bickslow's voice was cocky and triumphant: "Shatter!" The beast fell to pieces at the Embodiment mage's feet.
Rusty Rose fell back in surprise. His hands were shaking. Nobody had ever defeated one of his beasts with one attack before. . .
"Levy," called Freed, though he did not turn away from the fight, "Rouse Talia. She'll be angry that we didn't call for her sooner."
"No!" snapped Pantherlily, grabbing Levy's arm, "You can't trust her with this. We need to handle him on our own. We can't afford another enemy."
Levy yanked her arm out of his grip and glared acid, "The only other enemy at the moment is you for doubting her." She turned and ran into the tent.
Her small feet padded softly on the cool earth in the shade of the tent. Talia hadn't moved, her legs still crossed and upturned palms rested quietly on her thighs. Levy crouched in front of her and placed a hand on her shoulder. She gave her a light squeeze. Under her closed eyelids, Talia's eyes shifted, and slowly those green pools opened. She blinked out her haze to find her blue-haired friend.
"They're here," Levy said breathlessly. Talia nodded and unfolded herself to her full height.
"How many?"
"Just one. But he uses a strange summoning magic."
Talia nodded again and walked toward the tent flap. She opened it with one hand and strode though. Pantherlily's cold, black eyes bore into her, but she paid him no mind. Her eyes were on the silver-haired man now standing before Freed and Bickslow.
"I thought I told you two not to play hero," her voice was steady.
"Yes, well, couldn't be helped," Freed bantered back dryly.
Talia felt the gaze of the intruder. He threw his head back and laughed.
"This is your champion?!" his voice bounced with an arrogant ring, "A woman in polka-dots? Zeref, save me from her wrath!" Talia's eyebrow cocked.
"Bold of someone with that hair to criticize my attire," she looked over him critically, "So this is a Grimoire Heart mage. Funny. I expected something with half a brain more."
"You will find," he growled, "That my imagination is more than enough to destroy your pathetic joke of a guild!" He barely noticed the growing whine on the wind around her.
His arm shifted to that black claw again and it shot toward her. She gestured lazily in the air. And before the attack could even touch her, it crashed into something solid; the impact fracturing painfully back into his arm.
"What. . . ?" he stumbled back in confusion as his arm returned to normal. He just caught a silver shimmer in the air around her. "My Jet Black Sword can cut through anything. . . How?"
The whine on the breeze grew louder.
"Finish your enchantment, Freed," she ordered, "I'll deal with this one." Freed nodded, and he and Bickslow turned back toward the camp.
"Don't you turn your back on a superior fighter!" Rusty Rose roared, "In my hand appears a javelin, with aim deadly and pure." True as he said, a javelin appeared in his hand; he reared his arm back and threw it toward the fairies' backs. But before it even crossed the empty space, the spear splintered in half; the shards clattering uselessly to the ground. He looked back to the woman.
Her eyes were dead.
Or at least, they should've been. He had seen dead eyes hundreds of times—he knew what they looked like. But silver irises glinted under the pearled surface as she stared him down. There was a silver magic dripping off of her, and her attire had changed. Long gone were her polka dots, now it was a tattered and dirty white dress. Her throat was red and raw with open wounds as if something tried, and failed, to claw out her windpipe.
He didn't know why, but his hands began to shake. He took a step back. Then, he realized: Fear. Pulsing through my veins, flooding my mind with thoughts of impending doom. He took a steadying breath. Still. . . It is I who has the advantage! He placed his fingertips on his temples and faced whatever creature stood before him.
"These racing thoughts of fear are like my fuel—they serve to spur my imagination! I shall manifest your darkest nightmares!"
Darkness spun around him, and in the shadows twisted screaming faces of tortured souls. "Go forth—Spirits of Brittia! Dine on the souls of fairies!" he cackled.
Her head cocked at an odd angle. And her eyes followed the specters as they surrounded her. But only her, she noticed. Good. The twisted shadows of souls swarmed around her, sticking and trapping her in place as they flooded the air. Her smile grew and her tongue drew over the corner of her mouth.
"Is this all you can do?" he taunted, "Stand still as my spirits swarm? I thought the Banshee of Fairy Tail would have something better to offer!" His smile was cruel, "Or did your fighting spirit die with your beloved?"
Ice shot through her veins and her silver eyes widened. How did he. . . ?
"Such a strange situation—that house collapsing all on its own. And yet no dark guild ever came forward and your Master Makarov barely raised a hand to find the culprit. Is that this light you all speak of? The one that's supposed to save you? The love of your friends who never even bothered to look for your fiancé's murderer?"
She could feel the memories creeping up. That week in Magnolia had ripped open the scabs of that wound. Her heartbeat quickened and she felt her breath grow short. Morrigan pushed from behind.
Cruel words lose their bite with a broken jaw. MOVE.
She took a low breath. "You called these shadows 'spirits'," her voice spun, "But they are merely the shades of ones." Her silver eyes shone angrily. "Besides," she paused, her head tilting further, "You could never touch my nightmares."
His spirits just. . . stopped. Mid-air, mid-movement, they all froze.
"What have you. . ." shock and terror laced his voice.
"Did you truly think," She said menacingly as she walked toward him, the 'spirits' politely moving aside for her, "That you could stop me with magic such as this?" She gestured around them. "Your imagination is lacking." She brought her hand up and twisted it in the air. The black and purple spirits around her turned on their master—slithering around his arms and legs and splaying him out in the air.
"D-Dissolve!" the spirits dissipated around him and he fell to the ground. But she was still there. He felt his heartbeat thunder through his ears. Wait. . . thunder. "Sacred Guardian Beast: Belacusas the Thunderclap!" The massive horned beast appeared before him, and it towered over the glade. Rusty Rose laughed his anxiety away.
"Your comrades speak of light and love and yet you are amongst their ranks! Of all here, you should understand the call of darkness—the power therein!" His creature roared.
Pantherlily looked to Levy. "Do you see my point now? What is this darkness in Talia he speaks of? Why does her power feel off?" They were demands, not questions. And Levy's brown eyes met his with irritation and stubbornness.
"The source of her magic is old. Older than Zeref. As old as civilization. But that doesn't make her evil or wicked."
"Then who is this Old One I've heard mention of?"
Levy glared again, "It's not my magic. Not my place to say. But her magic is stable." She almost said 'It's just old—like the magic the Seven Kin use' but she knew that wouldn't help. Lily was just as fiercely protective of his friends as any of them, and likening the object of his suspicions to their current enemy would be unwise. "Just trust us. Trust her. It'll be fine."
But then the Tenrou Tree fell. Roots buried for an age snapped and splintered as it toppled, the island shuddering with the loss. The mages of the Fairy Tail guild felt their hearts clench painfully, and almost all immediately fell to the ground, clutching their chests. The wind was knocked out of Talia's lungs, and pain spread through her bones. Everyone turned to watch the tree fall, a darkened dread filling the place hope once was.
Rusty Rose's beast attacked—slamming Talia into the side of a rock outcropping at the edge of the glade. She cried out in pain at impact, but forced herself out of the wreckage. She groaned and coughed as she staggered back into the glade. Her pain was obvious, but her glare was fierce. She fell to her hands and knees as she felt her magic bleed out rapidly. The Embodiment mage just cackled.
"As the mighty tree falls, so too shall the fairies! Your demise is inevitable: you should die with grace while you still can. The Grand Magic World will not suffer your existence!"
Talia glanced to the camp—everyone was down in the mud. Freed and Bickslow struggled to their knees, but it was obvious there would be no cavalry to come for her rescue. This was her fight. To protect her friends. She had to do something.
He sauntered over to her as he gloated, and looked down on her with sadistic disdain. He kicked her, again and again, her body convulsing from the force.
A massive fireball appeared in the sky—someone, somewhere, was fighting with everything they had. Fighting to the last breath. She had to push through this. To protect her home. To protect her family. Her eyes pinched shut in pain and desperation.
Morrigan. . . Old One. . . I—
Talia suddenly felt a veil lift. Her senses were clearer, the pain of the Tenrou tree dulled. Blood was hot in her veins, and she felt her strength return. But it was a different one than what had been lost; this was old and thick and electrifying.
Show him something beyond his feeble imagination, growled the Morrigan.
She had lifted a safeguard—a buffer between Talia and her full, unbridled power.
Talia threw a massive sound wave at the man over her, catapulting him halfway across the glade; but as soon as he was gone, his creature was there in his stead.
The massive beast attacked again; its claws slicing toward Talia—except she wasn't there anymore. Her white and red form flickered in the air as she pulsed around the monster, drawing its attention dartingly to too many places to aim. Until finally she was above him. She slammed a pulse-packed kick down at the joint of its shoulder, the massive sonic boom shattering the beast's armor and forcing it to its knees.
Rusty Rose, having caught his feet, staggered backwards. His second monster was defeated. His spirits twisted into turning on him. What could possibly have magic like this? His hands shook as his mind raced to find a solution. This wasn't just sound. Sound couldn't control the souls in his spell.
Talia hopped to the ground, unsettling smile on her face as she stared down her foe. Behind her, the beast clattered and thudded dully in the wet dirt as it fell forward. It dissipated, fragments falling and dissolving into the puddles.
"Darkness, demons, and death," she giggled. "For what silly things you search." Her head cocked to the side and her pearled eyes sparkled with a wild, murderous mirth. "If you wanted to meet Death," her smile glinted as fangs in the grey light, "You should have come to me sooner."
A sense of unavoidable dread surrounded Rusty Rose, his earlier fear a mere fragment compared to this. The world dropped away and there was only her. But not as she was now, no. She was blackened; dark wings extended from her back and her eyes burned red—like a knife caught through an artery. A circlet of blood splatter adorned her forehead, the droplets glinting like rubies against her pale skin. Sightless ravens looked out from her shoulders, and he could hear the flapping of their maledictive wings shuddering the void around him.
"Keener's Cry."
The magic pierced his heart, caught his soul, and ripped it from his chest. Every ounce of warmth he ever felt abandoned him. He was as empty as the chasm that surrounded him. His mouth opened and closed uselessly, his wide eyes unfocused and terrified. He could feel the soil swallow him slowly, shovel by shovel. He felt his flesh decay, the worms and mushrooms nibbling down, into, and through him. His bones slowly splintered and disintegrated into the earth. Everything was dark. Everything was numb. Everything was. . . nothing.
Her voice cracked around him; sound all-encompassing:
"Now get out of my sight."
And as quickly as it had appeared, the void was gone. Talia had returned to her polka dots, and the rain pattered lightly around him. Rusty Rose dropped to his knees. His lungs burned, but it was as if his body forgot how to breathe, he could barely sip the air, as desperate as he was. He collapsed, shaking on the wet ground. He didn't get up.
Talia stared down at the man with cold eyes. "What arrogance to think that magic extends just 400 years."
A stray beam of sunlight shone through the clouds and the mysterious pull on her magic lifted. The dull ache faded, and the rest of the guild carefully regained their feet.
She turned to her friends and walked back to camp. Freed was the only one she spoke to as she returned to her place in the infirmary tent. Her green eyes met his blue.
"This time, I didn't miss."
She moved the tent flap out of the way with a light hand and stepped into the shelter.