Tale of the Sky Maiden

by LastationLover5000

In the most dire hour of the Fairy Tail Guild's history the attack of Acnologia on the Tenrō Island, something goes horribly wrong. Separated from her friends of certain death, the young Slayer will have to learn to stand on her own two feet and help the fractured guild remain strong. This is the tale of the Sky Maiden, Wendy Marvell!

15. Welcome to Paradise!

Chapter 15 - Welcome to Paradise!

Written by LastationLover5000 and Demod20

---

The stunned, surprised reaction from the entire Guild was almost unanimous. Whatever anyone had expected their attention to be drawn to — and even if it involved Max — they hadn't expected something like this. It wasn't out of the ordinary for royalty to entertain Guilds as guests, that much was true, but two things made this invitation even more of a swerve.

For starters, it was from a foreign nation. It would have been a different matter entirely if the Royal Family of Fiore was inviting any Guild from their nation to their halls; that's why seeking Fairy Tail's help had not unheard of before. Hisui and her father were neither the first royals of Fiore, nor would they be the last, to seek Guilds or individual mages for their employ. But for a foreign dignitary to send a message to a Guild from another country? That was unheard of. These matters were usually best left to local guilds. The fact that Desierto was inviting mages from a foreign guild baffled everyone present.

Secondly, the letter's contents themselves; it wasn't simply a request for their Guild. If anything, that would have made this slightly less strange.

No, the letter was an invitation to Max specifically, naming him as a potential marriage candidate to the Queen Regnant of Desierto herself. It was that stipulation, more than anything else, which had elicited the reaction of shock from the Fairy Tail Guild members.

Macao, doing his best to act as Master, walked over towards Doranbolt, motioning for the letter. Doranbolt handed it to him without protest, and, despite the fact that Doranbolt had just read it aloud, Macao read it to himself. Once, twice, and then a third time. "The envelope, please?" Macao inspected the back of the envelope when it was handed to him, checking for any sign of fraud that he could recognise. He found none.

Instead, attached to the back of the envelope was the wax seal of the Royal House of Desierto.

There could be no doubt. The invitation, and all of this implications, were authentic.

Yet this merely opened the floodgates for the questions yet again? Why Max? For a husband candidate no less? Why invite their Guild as a whole specifically? Macao handed the letter and envelop back to Max, before heading to take a seat on the bar table, legs crossed. He looked thoughtful, and — though no one would say it out loud — for the first time, like an actual Guild Master. Macao needed to think, and to do that, he needed to concentrate; the man conjured Purple Flare, coursing the deep-hued blaze through his fingertips, practically juggling the fire around the digits.

It was an exercise to help him concentrate, one that Wakaba was familiar with, yet the Guild Members might have instead seen as foolishness. After a moment's more deliberation, Macao spoke again.

"The most important thing to establish first...is what Max thinks of all of this," Macao decided finally, looking down on Max from his perch. The Flare extinguished itself with the grip of Macao's hand, and he rested his chin on his knuckles, his elbow digging into his left leg. "The invitation is for you, kid! We're just your tag-alongs. How are you going to respond to it?"

"I don't know why anyone would be interested in me," Max replied after a moment's hesitation. He ran his hands through his bowl-cut hair, as if the action would assuage his own concerns. Before he'd become a Mage of Fairy Tail, he hadn't been able to reach out to anyone; he remembered quite vividly the pain of being alone. So now, even here, surrounded by friends, it was a strange feeling to be wanted. He scratched his head, deciding firmly that it wasn't him they wanted, but the Hero of Fiore. "...I guess this is the price of popularity?" He chuckled ruefully.

"It's not a bad trade," Doranbolt said simply.

"Doranbolt!" Wendy gasped, shocked.

"I'm just speaking from a pragmatic standpoint," Doranbolt said lightly, shrugging even. "A mage's life isn't always thankful, and the reward isn't always that great. We were lucky last time to have won as we did. Max may want to think of his future; even if it's one proposed by someone he doesn't know." There wasn't a hint of maliciousness in his voice; he was genuinely concerned for the man he now considered his friend.

"That's why, I want to meet her," Max grinned in spite of himself, blushing sheepishly. He knew that he might not have a chance to meet a woman on his own, so against his better judgement — and being the furthest thing from a gentleman, he had to admit — he was willing to respond to the invitation and meet the Queen of Desierto. "It's only proper people meet each other before they decide anything that amazing as marriage, queen or not, right?"

Wendy looked concerned, as if she didn't think Max was doing this for the right reasons either. Doranbolt smiled, tight-lipped.

From his seat on the bar, Macao grinned. "Well then, that settles that much," he said easily. "Now comes the matter of Guild attendance. Our Guild has been invited to visit Desierto, and I'd take that to mean all of us; I don't think it would be wise, however, to leave the Guild entirely unattended." Macao mulled over the new Guilds that had been attempting to rise to fame in the absence of Fairy Tail's strongest mages, and knew that they would simply love an attempt to dismantle the Guild Building with the Master and every single mage away in another country. Grinning broadly, anticipating the chaos, he asked, "Who wants to take the trip, and who volunteers to stay behind?"

The uproar was instantaneous. Near immediately, everyone began to stake their claim, pleading their case to not be left behind, and it was hard to hear the individual voices over the massive uproar. The only individuals who weren't joining in were the members of Team Robyn and Team Wendy — the former due to apparent disinterest, the latter because they would follow Max wherever he went. He was their teammate, after all. Macao waited a moment for the battle to die down, that moment stretching from a minute, into four, into seven, until he stood up on the bar table and let loose a Purple Flare above him, stopping it just short of the ceiling.

This got their attention.

"I understand everyone's excitement," Macao called over the dying hubbub of his Guild. "And believe me, if there was a way for all of us to go, I'd take you all. But we cannot afford to leave the Guild unattended, so one some of you will need to be selfless and stay behind!"

"Why don't you practise what you preach and stay behind yourself, old man?" grinned Wakaba.

"A-As the Master, with the bulk of our Guild visiting a foreign country, it's my responsibility to travel with them!" replied Macao, red in the face at being caught in a hypocrisy. "I'm certainly not going because I want to see the famed beauties of the desert country!"

"Dad!" Little Romeo interjected, looking affronted. "I don't want a street lady for a mom!"

A silence was immediately followed by another uproar. Macao had almost inspired them all for a moment, but with his true intentions laid bare, the entire Guild had gone back to arguing with each other. Some, like Mickey Chickentiger, were simply demanding a chance to get out and see the world. Others, like Warren Rocko, wanted time away from work and saw it as as a chance to relax. And there were others, like Jet and Droy, who just wanted a distraction.

In defiance of all the clamour, Wendy squeezed through the crowd, over to where Robyn sat, surprised by his utter ease and disinterest. "Robyn, why aren't you trying to fight for your spot in the trip?"

"Not interested," Robyn replied tersely, lifting another mug of ale to his lips. This close, Wendy realised the boy wasn't drunk at all — no blush to his cheeks, no slur in his voice. Was he acting earlier?

"W-What?!"

"I'll pass," Robyn said again after a gulp of alcohol. "I'm not going to some stinkin' royal's husband selection ceremony. You guys have fun helping Max fight the single life, but keep me out; unless you want me to depose the monarchy—"

"We don't—"

"Then I don't wanna!" Robyn replied, puffing his cheeks and shaking his head in firm denial.

Wendy wanted Robyn to come with them. Whether it was because he was a fellow Slayer, or because she had someone else her height to talk to around the Guild, Wendy wanted Robyn to come along as a companion. The Dragon Slayer puffed out her own cheeks in frustration, trying to work out a way in her head to convince Robyn. As ever, Doranbolt came to her rescue.

"There's free food," the man said, slyness coating every syllable.

Robyn put down his mug.

"We'd likely get lots of entertainment there," Doranbolt continued, playing into Robyn's own vices as if he knew them personally.

Robyn's eyes began to glisten slightly, the eagerness apparent, even if he was fighting to keep his face straight.

"Who knows? Maybe we could force her to pay for inconveniencing us, after we so graciously saved their kingdom's coffers. Might take some tactful diplomacy—"

"-or we could rub it in their faces!" Robyn interrupted, his face breaking into a malicious grin, revealing bright white teeth. "OK, you've twisted my arm!" Turning his attention to the tumult of bodies, he shouted, "OK EVERYONE, I WANT TO GO TOO!" And so, if anything, the chaos doubled.

Wendy's expression was torn between a smile and a frown. "Thanks, Doranbolt...though I wish he had better reasons for going."

"It's all about the right words," replied Doranbolt, smiling in spite of himself.

"I think he was merely looking for an excuse," supplied Eris, the same motherly smile she always wore on her face as she watched Robyn practically throw himself into the chaos, slapping a nearby Chico C Hammitt in the face with a rush of cold water, briefly reattaining his scaled appearance. "You're living in his head, rent-free, Wendy." She didn't mean it as an insult, continuing to smile in a way to assuage Wendy's confusion. "In our free time, or on missions, he talks about you frequently. Once all of that started, he kept slipping aside glanced towards everyone. I think he wanted to go as well, but didn't want to seem too excited."

"Robyn..." Surprised, and slightly touched, Wendy smiled gently at the tangle of bodies that was her Guild, where Robyn was buried inside, assuredly hitting someone new.

"He won't like you telling her that," Bobbie said, a small grin on her face as well.

"B-But it's honest!" replied Eris, suddenly flustered.

Wendy giggled. It was obvious that Eris and Bobbie cared for Robyn, each in their own strange way. If Eris was the mother, Bobbie was the aunt. "Robyn is lucky to have you two."

The chaos continued to descend into violence, of which Macao had no real control. As the situation spiraled further, no one heard the opening of Fairy Tail's double doors. Joey Fullborn, almost on instinct, turned to swing at the new arrival...

...only to find his fist blocked effortlessly by Jellal, who, far from being caught by surprise, gripped Joey and countered, flipping the musclebound man easily onto his back. Jellal blinked rapidly, his narrow eyes surveying the chaos his Guild was in the middle of: thrown chairs, flipped tables, cracked pillars, and worse, bodies strewn everywhere, exhausted but not severely damaged. Heaving a sigh, he could only form the words reluctantly.

"...I'm back? Did I miss something?"

Meredy, who had trailed behind him, bore witness to the utter wreckage of the interior of the Guild, and shuddered. She fought back the impulse to defend herself, the scene she was witnessing to her brought up memories of an attack rather than the banter and roughhousing of friendly comrades. Her face soured, the small woman looking up at Jellal. "Whatever we missed, I'm glad we did."

"J-Jellal, welcome back," Macao laughed unevenly. Chaos was the bread and butter of Fairy Tail, after all, even without their most troublesome members. However, he'd wanted his newer Guild members — even though they'd already been here a month — to have a better impression, so he felt a slight semblance of shame. "Honestly, it's a long story, but let me explain." The Fourth Guild Master of Fairy Tail explained everything to do with Max's letter from Desierto, the legitimacy of the Royal Seal, and the contents held inside. "And so, we were trying to decide who would remain behind, so that as much of the Guild could go as poss—"

"We'll stay," Jellal cut Macao off, surprising the man in that single instance with such an assured statement. There wasn't any hesitation in the man volunteering away any chance at leisure for what was essentially glorified house-sitting. "Meredy and I will stay behind and guard the Guild," Jellal continued. This is just fine...what I need isn't a vacation...I need more work...or I'll let my mind dwell on you, Erza...

"Am I being volunteered for something without you even asking?" Meredy pursed her, annoyance crossing her face. She didn't mind staying behind to guard the Guild with Jellal — no, Desierto was certainly not her scene — Meredy just wished Jellal had spoken with her before volunteering her for guard duty. Huffing, the young girl balked at the imploring expression on Jellal's face. She didn't need Maguility Sense to understand his emotions here; Jellal desperately wanted to be of use to the Guild in any way, and if he could give them a brief reprieve — one that everyone desperately needed — then staying behind meant nothing to him.

"Hrm..." Meredy groaned. "We'll stay then, Master."

"Thank you, Meredy," it was Jellal who answered with a smile before Macao could even respond.

"I accept that readily, Jellal!" grinned Macao, before suddenly becoming stern. "But don't use this as an excuse to overwork yourself." He pointed a finger firmly at the younger man. "Do light jobs; I want you to be our Guild's primary defender. Meredy, regular correspondence, please; if he tries to do too much at once, I want to know. I will reprimand him when we return."

"Of course, Master," replied Meredy, a hint of smugness on her face now. "You'll know if he so much as blinks wrong."

"W-Wait, I didn't agree to that—" Jellal protested.

"Then we're even," Meredy said, a small smile on her face. "We'll be house-sitting together, Jellal!"

---

Later That Evening, Max's Apartment

Max eased himself onto the soft cushioning of his bed, his back to the wall, thumb on his pointed chin. Everything was arranged. He had given a formal reply, and sent it back to Desierto by messenger. After that, Macao had discussed with the Guild their method of transportation; they would take a train, specifically from Fiore to the outskirts of their country border. There were few trains that traveled that far, but some did exist, and they would be taking one of the better trains.

Perks of being Fairy Tail, Max chuckled wryly. But still...a husband candidate for the Queen of Desierto? That's a little... He sighed. "It's all so over the top. I'm still not sure they haven't made a mistake of some kind. And what if, even after I do meet her..." His words trailed off, yet his thoughts availed him no freedom. He couldn't speak the words aloud, it felt almost childish to admit a fear like this to himself. But the thoughts wouldn't leave his head. What if I actually want this to become something more...and she rejects me? Believes I'm not up to her taste, or something? The Sand Mage shuddered involuntarily at the idea. Long before he joined Fairy Tail, Max hadn't had the best childhood. Beyond his parents, who, while he couldn't say they didn't care for him, were almost neutral to his existence, he'd had no relationships, no friends, no significant others of any sort. Choosing the path of a Mage — when he found he'd had a talent for Magic — only distanced himself further from his parents. They had wanted him to take up a 'respectable' career, to help provide for their family and improve their station.

They didn't want a charlatan as their son... The words stabbed at Max's heart. But he was set on becoming a Mage. It was the only thing he had talent, he had aptitude for. Eventually, in search of a place to call home, a place where he could refine his skills, Max had traveled to Magnolia. He'd heard of a Guild, Fairy Tail, the strongest Guild in the country. Perhaps that was where he could stake his claim in the world, and his parents would take back what they said.

Instead of finding an institution of powerful Mages, Max had found something else entirely.

He'd found a family.

Fairy Tail had welcomed him without a second thought. Ever eager for new members, they'd accepted him without asking about his personal history, his intentions, or anything. It was love and welcome without measure, and Max had never felt anything of the sort before. Makarov, who treated all of the members in the Guild as if they were his children, was a like a father to him, in a way his own father had never been. He taught Max lessons, counseled the young man when he'd made mistakes, and lifted him up when he succeeded. Tears staining his eyes, Max cursed the fact that he hadn't been there on Tenrō Island, to help his father in some way.

I wouldn't be where I am without my Guild, my family, Max clenched a hand over his heart. But for someone else to be interested in me at all...it's a different kind of feeling...I don't want to mess this up...! Tied up by emotions he didn't know how to deal with, Max slumped against the wall, gritting his teeth. To his friends, this was just a vacation — and he desperately wanted them to enjoy themselves — but to him, this could be life-changing. Easing himself onto his bed, neglecting to even remove his day clothes for nightclothes, Max looked up at the ceiling.

I'll try to make this work! This could be what I've been waiting for...! With these thoughts, Max allowed sleep to take him.

---

The Day of Departure, Fairy Tail Guild Hall

The fateful day to leave approached at a crawl. After a three day delay — much of which the entire Guild spent packing, loading clothes and other traveling supplies into rucksacks — Desierto had responded to Max's correspondence. When they reached the border between Desierto and Fiore, the response letter stated they would be greeted by an envoy. Various routes, trade routes included, to get to Desierto were currently limited; bandits lurking within the dunes had made it difficult for supplies to travel from other countries into Desierto in recent months, and the country had begun employing various Guilds — usually those from the countries they were currently trading with — to deliver their goods.

Having agreed on the terms with Desierto, the entire Guild was getting ready now. The past three days hadn't been enough for everyone to pack everything they needed. Some of the Guild members hadn't even been sure the response was going to come, doubtful, even slightly, of its legitimacy. Max, ironically, had been the last one to be completely ready for the trip. He'd agonised over clothing decisions, colognes and other various means of up-keep, and was the very last person into the Guild Hall, carrying a large pack, and heaving wildly.

Everyone who had gathered was wearing something different, something unique for the heat; even by train, and switching to a caravan once they'd hit the border, it would take three days proper to reach the heart of Desierto. No one wanted to change clothes around each other, except perhaps Robyn and Bobbie, neither of whom had much sense of decorum. Max himself had dressed in a looser, white collared shirt, and simple jeans. Nothing too impressive, but Max had dressed this way in an effort to say "this is me".

Wendy had opted for a simple yet beautiful in its design. A rosy pattern was sewn around a flat collar, leaving her neck and collarbones exposed while a satin white dress ended just shy of her lower thighs in a simple tube-shape. The front pattern was a crisscross blue over a lighter azure that it bordered down the middle to a navy trimmed light of dull gold around the skirt's hem. Wearing brown sandals and a jingling pair of silver rings, her sleeveless arms swayed casually with the flow of her red neck-hairpieces that affixed them into her standard twintaills. It was made of looser material than her standard outfits, and Doranbolt had purchased it specifically for her to wear on this trip.

Doranbolt, almost as if he'd wanted to pick out a similar outfit, had adorned himself a brown dress shirt, patterned with similar diamond-shapes to Wendy's dress, merely covering the entirety of the cloth, faded black pants, and simple trainers.

Robyn, however, made no adjustments to his current outfit beyond strapping a belt to his thin waist, attached to which were five large canteens of water. When asked, the young man had said derisively, "We're going to a desert. I am a Water Dragon Slayer. I think I'm going to be just a little out of my element!" The most interesting, however, was Bobbie, who still wore the foreign outfit she had from three days ago, although it appeared new and freshly laundered.

"Bobbie..." Max said slowly, swinging his rucksack over his shoulder and eyeing her suspiciously. "How convenient that you were dressed three days ago for a trip none of us knew we were taking...and are still wearing that outfit even now."

"Oh, I read the letter ahead of time," replied Bobbie simply.

"...waityouwhat?" The words stumbled from Max's mouth before he had a proper register of what he was saying, but the confusion and incredulity remained. Max tried to formulate the image in his head; Bobbie strolling out to their mailbox at the earliest hour, rifling through the box, reading the post not sent to her with no reaction to not arouse the slightest bit of suspicion, and then returning to the Guild and changing into the maddeningly sexy outfit she was wearing right now. "How did you...?"

"I am an assassin," Bobbie said slyly. "I'd be ashamed if I couldn't do at least that much."

"You stand out too much for an assassin," Doranbolt said dryly, looking over Bobbie's attire with an unreadable expression. It was times like these when Doranbolt and Charle were on the same page: She's a bad influence for Wendy.

"This in and of itself is a weapon," Bobbie shrugged, before pointing at her body, making shapes with the air. "Most men are all the same, after all — exceptions perhaps like yourself and our little blue bird. They see this and their mental faculties drop completely. Killing after that is easy."

Charle made a face, disgust clearly crossing her countenance, yet she couldn't find the words to come out of her throat. Is she the hussy that Robyn learned how to be a hussy from?!

"How am I an exception?" asked Doranbolt, irritation crossing his face.

"I'm not quite sure where your interests lie yet," was Bobbie's simple reply.

"What are you insin—"

"Enough!" Macao clapped his hands before the argument could escalate, walking between the two of them, both palms at either side. With a quick, and sudden burst of Purple Flare — comparable to the speed of a fired bullet — the two were thrown back from each other. The Purple Flare sparked at the end of both his hands, an added warning to the two charges of Fairy Tail's Guild, and Macao put on his best stern expression. "We're going to be traveling as a Guild, and as long as we're traveling as a single unit, we will need to get along. Please try not to rile each other up."

Doranbolt eyed Bobbie with annoyance; Bobbie's return glance was mischievous in return. Whether she still held a grudge against the man for defeating her wasn't obvious in her actions; she could just be teasing the man. Slowly, the both of them nodded, and Macao grinned broadly.

"Excellent!" Turning to speak towards the Guild, he cleared his throat. There was a surge of magical power, and his voice was magnified, carrying across the entire building. It was a simple spell, and Macao had picked it up only recently, after realising he needed a way to make his Guild listen to him more. "Everyone! This marks the beginning of our journey to Desierto! Though the Guild is traveling largely for the chance to see the world, and to experience new places, this trip is in, at it's core, about Max here! The Fairy Tail Guild treasures its comrades, and this could be a turning point in Max's life: whatever we do, when we arrive in Desierto, we will support him however we can! Now let's make this a trip to remember!"

The entire Guild cheered, stunning Max to his core. He still didn't know what to make of everything, and his nerves had been racking for three days straight. Hearing his Guild cheer for him, and intend to support him felt like a drop of a warm liquid straight into his stomach. It filled him with a sort of strength that he didn't think he had, and he smiled in spite of himself. With the shift in energy from his friends' words, Max joined the cheering.

Pushing open the double doors of the Fairy Tail Guild Building, led by Macao himself, the Fairy Tail mages journeyed out, leaving only Jellal and Meredy at their posts.

"We really joined quite a crowd," Meredy noted. Her face was impassive, and not possessing Maguility Sense himself, Jellal couldn't quite place the girl's feelings.

"We did...but I'm glad you pushed me to do it," he admitted, a long sigh escaping his throat. "Alright, Meredy. We've got our own work to do!"

---

In no time flat, the Guild left Magnolia, boarding the nearest train that'd route them to the assigned rendezvous point. From there they knew they were to meet up with a royal escort across the neighboring country's arid land, ensuring their travel would be safe and comfortable. Getting them all in was its own challenge, however, as there was so many of them that they weren't all going to be able to be together throughout the passage. It would take three days, so they'd have to get comfortable on the Lacrima-powered vehicle all the way to their destination.

As they boarded, Wendy saw Mickey wrestling with Warren for a place on his car, only for Macao using Purple Flare to separate them. Wakaba had to corral Bisca away from Nab for not being able to decide which car he wanted to pick. Reedus's current outfit made it difficult to get into the transport which was its own hassle while little Romeo helped push him in from behind with his dad's help.

It was hectic, but Wendy couldn't help but feel like something about the wonderment of the situation was weighed out by something important. Looking back she saw citizens of Magnolia who were all more than acquainted with the heroics and feats the mages had done since before she even joined. Waving them off, Macao took time to give something resembling an inspiring speech while Wakaba finished getting everyone in the train.

Before she entered she couldn't help but draw her eyes to a recognizable man in shabby clothes worn almost like a moddled-merchant's cloat with a patchwork top-hat. The man was grinning her way, tipping her said hat while winking her way, mouthing something that she could make out as if it was whispered into her ears.

"I told you so."

Shaking it off, she boarded the train, choosing to believe it was her mind playing tricks on her. It was nerves, that had to be it.

With a loud whistle from the conductor, the train revved up the Lacrima engine and began to haul its large assemblage of people to its far-flung destination. Wendy joined with those of the aforementioned 'Team Wendy' coincidentally with Robyn and his two compatriots of 'Team Robyn'. They settled in well enough and took to the momentum of the vehicle with fair ease; it didn't even cross her mind that she should have nausea...

Wendy reclined in her seat, watching the scenery of green blend with the rolling hills and forests that dotted the area bordering the tracks. Her eyes were wide and filled with wonder. It had been some time since she had a trip, even if it was for the purpose for a mission or guild business, that left outside of Fiore. To her knowledge, many of the mages here hadn't left the country ever.

"Aw!" She awed out, pointing at the window over where Charle was seated next to her. "I think I see a cloud that looks like a funny looking dog!"

"Wendy, clouds don't look like-" Her feline companion trailed off, her eyes suddenly blinking widely. Hopping over onto Wendy's lap, her face pressed against it, squishing her wide-blinking eyes at seeing indeed a thin and long shaped dog was in the formation of clouds hanging over the sky that past them by. "Well I'll be...!"

"It's only been an hour and you're already cloud gazing?" Robyn's voice came out dryly across from her.

"But clouds are pretty," The cobalt haired Slayer countered, grinning brightly back at the boy who was seated against the window like her. "They're like Reedus's pictures, but in white fluffy shapes."

"I already get fluffy from Bobbie," The teal haired boy sighed, nudging the dancer outfit aligned breast to his immediate right, causing it to jiggle with a comical 'boing'; for what reason or another, the voluptuous woman stared into space and didn't react to the provocative gesture, allowing the Slayer to continue with a chin resting onto an open palm. "Besides, I can make more amazing things with my talents than simple kid stuff like clouds."

"Right, since you're from the Lazuli family that makes sense," Doranbolt piped up, his brown-shirt crinkling as he leaned casually against his arms folded behind his head against the cushion of the train car they were staying in. "You never did say what your specialty is."

"Specialty?" Robyn blinked long lashes curiously back at Doranbolt. "Are you under the assumption I had a trade within my family's esteemed choice vocation?"

"Well, don't you?" Max countered, interjecting as he jabbed a finger at his pointed hat. "You already made a replacement for the last one we confiscated, right? A magic hat that sucks things in right?"

"...nah, that'd be too easy."

"What would be?"

Sighing, Robyn shook his head and withdrew an elegantly crafted wand of wood shrouded with ice-like texture to it. Twirling it between his fingers, he demonstrated its properties as it generated snowflakes into the air, smiling at the bright glint in Wendy's eyes at the beautiful fanfare he gave off.

Grinning despite himself, he tapped his own hat and replied to Max, "You're right, this is the same as the last. It took longer to make than this ice stave. Took a pretty penny out of my funds, but you'd have to admit it has plenty of uses-"

"Please don't steal while we're in Desierto."

Pouting his lips, he squinted and whined aloud at the four that stared deadpan back at him, "W-Why was that your first conclusion, guyyyyyyyyyyyyysssss?!"

"Past experience," Doranbolt rolled his eyes.

"Gut feeling," Max nodded.

"Your attitude hasn't improved much!" Charle jabbed accusingly.

"I'm just concerned for you," Wendy amended with a sheepish smile. "I don't want us making trouble. After all, we're all guests in another country, and I don't want you to make things...difficult."

With a groan he leaned against Bobbie's leftmost breast and relented aloud.

"Fine, I'll only use it for pragmatic reasons."

"Don't worry about our blue bird," Eris intoned, raising up a green-dress sleeve, pointing airily around at her two companions. "Bobbie and I had a talk and we're going to do our best to keep our leader in line. Since we only follow his lead, we want to ensure that we hold him accountable for his actions, since he's no longer ultimately in charge."

"That's comforting, I suppose," Doranbolt replied, seeing Charle ease up and Wendy place a hand on her chest with a look of relief on her face. Max, however as he noticed, still looked dubious with arms crossed over his new dress shirt.

"Oi, Eris," Robyn replied with a twitching glare from over Bobbie's cleavage. "Why are you talking like I'm not here?"

"Blue bird," Eris replied, turning around to suddenly emphasize with a sudden pressure as her pink eyes bore into his. "Don't give me an attitude, after you had lied to me all that time about who you are. Behave yourself, understand?"

"R-Right," The teal-haired Slayer backed off, melting into his seat with a resigned huff. Straightening himself, he looked back to Doranbolt with a more cool expression, brushing his bangs aside as he decidedly explain the process.

"My craft is modeling, changing and creating Holder Magic Tools," He began, twirling the stave for emphasis. "The process is complex, but it's a bit different than just channeling your spirit to mold magic of your given type. The base of the object has to be threaded by Lacrima, so that it can contain a current of Ethernano and perform the miracle you're seeking. Some items need to be fine tuned so they can properly draw on the user's power, otherwise they may accidentally drain them dry."

"I-I see," Max sweated a bit, realizing just how screwed he'd be if he touched the wrong item and suddenly he was sucked like a vampire to blood.

"The Council contracts many people across the continent for the most pristine Holder Items to be used, en masse if necessary," Doranbolt informed the others, smiling as he lifted a finger to point at Wendy. "Why even this train uses a sophisticated Steam Lacrima that powers it while also being constantly refined through a series of complex tubes that feed it fresh air for the process. Without Lacrima power cores - no matter how well they are made - no mechanism can sustain on itself without an outside power funneling through it."

Wendy remembered the disparaging technological difference between Earthland and Edolas.

Despite the latter having so many neat gadgets and equipment powering the capital city, it was stealing the magic of the surrounding environment and ebbing it away till none existed. In contrast, magical energy was overabundant within this world and can be manufactured to the point of it being consumed and utilized by the non-magic populace at large. One had a container of magical energy, while the other just stole energy that didn't belong to the wielder.

Then, that proffered the question in her mind.

"How is Lacrima made?" Wendy inquired.

"It's a simple but long process," Robyn answered, though with a smile on his face. "There's a special material that catalyzes elements or natural phenomena quite easily: glass. It was said the first mage found this out by catching lightning in a bottle, and found himself, along with the container, unharmed. However these days making glass often uses magic to expedite the process and shape it into whatever kind of container we wish."

"Ohhhhh," The younger Slayer awed aloud with sparkles in her eyes.

"Though there are exceptions to the ingredient. It's quite known that Iceberg can make crystalized ice to form Lacrima at incredible rates," Robyn explained, pocketing the stave back within the confines of his cloak, leaning back against his seat - causing the belt of water bottles wrapped around his normally exposed waist to jiggle - and let out a sigh as he continued speaking. "The main component of a container for magic is that it has to be something that can contain something bordering on the realms of supernatural. Some kinds of sediment, glass, ice, hardened magma, the list goes on."

"Can anyone use Holder Magic Tools?" Wendy asked, causing Charle's ears to twitch and her face forming a weird expression she didn't recognize from the corner of her eye.

Robyn noticed it, but kept his attention to Wendy as he answered her question promptly, "Well, yes and no. Theoretically anyone with magical know-how can use a Holder Magic Tool. However, aptitude is important, and everyone is born with a certain affinity that enables them to pursue a kind of craft of magic. For example, my ice stave can only be used by people with even a marginal ability in Water-type Magic, even if it hasn't been realized yet. You can't give someone a tool that doesn't align with their born talents; so I could never use a Fire-based Holder Magic Tool, and you could never use an Earth-based Holder Magic Tool."

"I see," She replied, nodding with understanding. "Here I thought magic can be learned by anyone. I guess I didn't factor in affinity and stuff like inborn talent."

"It's surprising how much the art of casting spells is closer to science than it was centuries ago," The beautiful boy spoke with a smile. His expression became wistful, looking outside for the first time and taking in the scenery in a casual observation; not truly looking at it, but thinking of something else, Wendy suspected. "My family's mastery of creating anything for the purpose of magic has taught me that nothing is outside the reach of humans, so long as you have intelligence and talent behind it. Though," He trailed off, his face becoming caged behind a colder expression the others couldn't discern. "My brother said, even with hard work, a man can't will something to exist simply because they want it bad enough. Some things in this world are impossible, even with all this magic at our convenient disposal."

It was then that Bobbie finally blinked, and looked over at Robyn. Almost seemingly out of maternal concern, she placed a hand on the effeminate boy's shoulder. He didn't brush it off, but he didn't look back towards the others as he closed his eyes and grit his teeth.

Then, the elf cleared her throat, changing the subject as she looked directly to Max.

"I'm honestly a bit worried for you, Max," Eris brought up with sincerity in her airy voice. "Are you mentally prepared for this?"

"Is any man who is told they're selected part of some convoluted royal selection process for possible husband?"

"Some desperate men are," Doranbolt intoned, unknowingly causing Robyn to visibly twitch with annoyance at his choice of words.

"It was rhetorical, of course I'm not prepared!" Max exclaimed, waving his elegant styled suit-top. It was a blue collared shirt - similar to his plain outfit he ordinarily wore, though this one had golden trim adorned to its hem, collar and cuffs - with a maroon tie with black triangles running down the length, with black suit pants and similarly colored dress shoes. Adjusting the tie as best as he could to keep it good condition, he grimaced while muttering out. "I was so wrapped up in my feelings on the matter I couldn't even find a proper set of clothes. So I just picked something and stuck with it."

"It looks nice-"

"-if you're going to a bachelor's party," Robyn added after Wendy, causing the girl to glare at him while he cheekily stuck his tongue back at her. "If he just allowed me to pick him an outfit, he could actually look presentable."

"Not even acknowledging that," Max grumbled, raising his head to look back at Eris and then over to the others. "What bugs me is that I'm a 'candidate'. That means I'm likely not even the only one. And since the Queen didn't write me, but her official next best - who if we're being real, had someone write for him - means she probably doesn't even know who I am."

"The price of fame is steep, hm?" Bobbie inquired with a curl on her lips.

"I'm surprised you aren't even affected by opinion of the masses, being an infamous assassin," Max retorted with a scowl. "Especially with your," he eyed up and down with disapproval. "assets."

"My infamy gets me well paid clients. My assets, as you put it, aren't ever brought up," Bobbie replied, unfettered his reply as she maintained with a confident smirk. "They know better."

Groaning, Max raised his hands and palmed his face, dragging them with long exaggerative lines that stretched his features with visible disdain. It felt wrong to him that he had to compete for the Queen's affection. Unless he read this wrong, and they're simply going to be lined up and hand picked, that's essentially what he was interpreting from the letter.

Worst, he had no nobility in his bloodline. His family weren't even known for their magic, only their work in trades such as mercantilism or specialization of some form of craft. He was the black sheep of his kin, and the fact he had gotten the spotlight was an even bigger fluke. He even considered contacting his parents when he finished the mission and became a hero; but to no surprise, they never responded, leaving him convinced this was just luck on his part.

"Don't downplay yourself," Doranbolt spoke, surprising the man as he looked shocked over at the scarred teleporter. Grinning, he continued with a nod towards Wendy and Charle. "If we didn't think you were capable, we wouldn't support you so wholeheartedly. The Guild may be going because you're part of their family, but we are going because we have faith in whatever decision you make."

"Doranbolt..." Max gasped, feeling taken aback by such encouraging words from the most pragmatic man of their team.

Charle huffed, shaking her head with a smile as she stood up to be more visible to the Sand Mage, "You proved yourself quite well in our first mission together. So I trust you'll make the right decision, regardless if you choose to stay with us or not."

"This is your chance, Doranbolt," Wendy affirmed with a bright endearing smile, bringing the focus of the dazed man straight to her sparkling amber irises. With raised fists clenched, she nodded with confidence. "This is all about you, so don't worry about anything but what you want. I'll back you up one hundred percent!"

Max felt overwhelmed.

Moisture formed in his eyes and his lips quivered. Raising a sleeve he hurriedly rubbed his leaking orifices while doing his best to hold back chokes of emotion in his words.

"T-Thanks you guys," He hiccuped, clenching his teeth behind his arm.

"Geez, what an emotional wreck you'll be before the Queen," Charle admonished, waving a paw at him motherly at him. "Try to not break down when you get selected, alright?"

"Don't you mean, if?" Doranbolt inquired with an arched brow.

"Given Max is an accomplished Mage, do you really think his competition stand a chance?" The Exceed asked with a narrowed stare at the scarred man.

The scarred man opened his mouth, but then clenched it shut. He pondered if there was a likelihood of his competition being anything short of just the usual humdrum politicians, sons of nobility or some wannabe trying to chomp more than they could chew.

Still, he wondered if Max's skills and personality would fit any criteria for what the monarchy of Desierto was looking for?

---

In the next few days, the Guild had enjoyed bantering and relaxing on their way to the southernmost stop possible in Fiore. Cars were served with top of the line service, providing them nice bunk-rooms for them to rest and gourmet food all while taking in the scenery of the southern half of the countryside. Each city looked less large than the last, showing just how rural the earth was becoming and less established.

Wendy spent time helping Max keep being motivated while asking questions from Robyn about different aspects of magic. In return, Robyn explained much to her delight different facets of the craft of Lacrima, magical tools' multiple purposes and different projects he was considering. Bobbie continued to have odd bouts of staring off into space, never truly falling asleep like the rest of them did; she explained it was to keep herself constantly aware and gain the necessary rest without shutting down her senses. Eris just seemed to enjoy conversing with the others, doting on Robyn while giving advice to Max all the while ensuring Bobbie didn't make smothering advances to Wendy due to her liking of cute things.

Mickey Chickentiger was roomed with Vijteer Ecor, Nab Lasaro, and Chico C. Hammit in the car immediately behind Team Wendy and Robyn's. The four frequently bickered, with Mickey often retaliating against Nab's persistence of not being able to decide on anything. From what Wendy saw, Mickey sported a black furred pair of cat gauntlets, her overall decorum maintained tiger prints but now over a black tank-top that left her lower back and waist exposed, with orange-slacks with similar tiger print on it that was complemented by black boots and cat ears on her blonde head. Nab wore his usual sleeveless jacket and skull necklaced attire, as he yet again couldn't decide what he wanted to change into before the trip so he didn't make a change. Chico wore a sleeveless red hoodie with the same cat-like hood akin to her hat, while wearing a backpack which she described as 'pieces of home' so she wouldn't be rendered completely useless.

The car ahead of them booked Laki Olietta, Reedus Jonah, Alzack Connell and Bisca Mulan. They seemed to get along nicely, with Laki having frequent conversations with Bisca which helped alleviate the tension that Alzack was having with her as of late. Reedus spent most of his time making casual banter as he painted things he observed, noticeably having much more detailed artwork in a shorter period of time they'd notice. Alzack, Bisca and Reedus didn't seem to change their attire motif for this adventure, but Laki chose to dress more cool, so she wore a cream colored coat and a short-sleeved version of her normal conservative blue-trimmed white coat, with a short blue skirt and navy blue stockings; her hair had grown in the past month past its bowl cut, and now was its normal wavy length, adorned with a red bow that Wendy complimented as cute.

In the middle of the train was Kinana, Romeo and Macao Conbolt, Wakaba Mine, Jet, Droy, Warren Rocko and Joey Fullborn. Being the other largest reserved car, this left the two senior members of the Guild to be roomed with Romeo and Kinana, taking personal responsibility to look after them since they knew they weren't mages. Romeo continued to study avidly, much to Macao's delight and pride, while Kinana just moved around and tried to be helpful any way she could. Jet and Droy changed their clothes to match the climate, with Jet wearing a bowler hat with a short-sleeved collared purple shirt along with black shorts and black shoes; Droy wore a sleeveless white shirt with a baggy brown pair of pants with an assortment of pockets stored up with seeds for his magic. Warren wore an orange pineapple T-shirt, with white shorts and sandals, while Joey chose to go topless - reasoning that it was imperative for his magic to function - while wearing palm-tree shorts and polka-dotted fingerless gloves to feel more outgoing and festive.

The trek flew by faster than they anticipated. Through all their time mingling and enjoying the luxury of the train cars traversing across their home country, they chose to relax and mingle in their own way. Before anyone knew it, almost 72 hours had passed and they reached the end of their destination.

"ATTENTION EVERYONE! THIS IS YOUR STOP! THE ONLY PLACE WE HAVE LEFT WILL BE A SUPPLY DEPOT AND THEN WE'LL HEAD BACK! DON'T MAKE US WAIT!"

"Charming fellows," Charle commented with a sigh, floating out while Doranbolt held luggage over his back in a parallel to Bobbie doing the same. Wendy carried a briefcase full of her own essentials, with Max having a wheeled variant that he pulled behind himself. Robyn himself just strut in exaggerative strides, his legs swishing noticeably to highlight his supple stocking-clad legs while his cloak swished around with his pointed hat bobbing with his head as his waist-bandoleer of water bottles splished with its liquid containers. Eris meanwhile held a knapsack over one shoulder, humming a melodic tune that no one could make out as it drifted along the air with an occasional whistle breaking from her lips.

As they exited their car onto the station, a rush of warm hair filled with greenery filled their nostrils. The station looked as if it was built into a municipal shopping district, with smaller buildings spreading out with streets and people scurrying about. Apart from the various villages and trading outposts they've saw on the way by, doubtlessly many dotting across the lushly sylvanic nation, this was undoubtedly the largest city down near the border.

"Whoa, it's so big!" Wendy blinked with an open mouth.

Robyn couldn't help but snicker at her word choice, only for Eris to shoot him a glare; prompting him to avert his gaze and whistle innocently.

"I wonder if we can get more clothes here?" Bobbie inquired in her usual monotone.

"Wait, don't you have enough?" Max inquired, noticing the very large pack full of adjacent compartments that seemed to be added on to the base duffel material. It could've been mistaken as a military pack for soldiers in the wilderness, or someone who was avid to trek across places for days at a time.

"These are for the bird," She replied succinctly, not even batting an eye at Max's expression. "All of my necessities are stored away in my Requip."

"Oh...huh, I forgot you had that," He scratched his cheek...only for him to then lurch back and ask with wide eyes. "Wait, why didn't you store that in the Requip too?!"

"To avoid mixing up our things."

"But, you have to carry something that looks to be over a hundred pounds!"

"It's really not that bad," Bobbie answered matter-of-fact, nonchalantly brushing off the sandy-haired man's incredulous reactions. As she shrugged, both metaphorically and physically, her breasts bounced and drew Max's attention to their jingling, swaying motions.

His reddened face turned away and he clenched his teeth as he tried to regain his composure, much to Bobbie's smirking humor.

Thankfully, the rest of the Guild soon piled out - with Doranbolt assisting everyone in retrieving Reedus and teleporting him out instead of having to squeeze him back outside - Macao stood at the head with Wakaba flanking him.

"Alright!" The man turned around, his trademark blue-trimmed white coat flourishing around as his hand twisted about. "We're here not to sight-see, but meet up an escort. Keep an eye out for them, they can't be far."

"You'd think they'd be watching out for us," Wakaba intoned with a grim thin line. "Did we just miss them?"

"Hey," Romeo tugged on his dad's coat, pointing his finger off to the corner of what looked like a bazaar assortment of tents camped out near the entrance of the train station's connection to the shopping complex; the large rectangular-octagonal architecture was a sharp contrast to the smooth squares of fabric and elegant gold trim over red and black colors. "Could that be them?"

"They don't seem to be like a part of the station or the town's stores," Kinana noted, the short-haired waitress looking at the tents with peering eyes.

"Well, let's investigate," Macao thumbed over to the rest of the Guild for them to follow. Marching ahead by ten meters, the four walked casually up to the mysterious looking tent that definitely held a foreign air about it. Once they got within a handful of meters, a shrouded figure of ebony emerged, dark eyes staring at the master and stopping the rest by his mere aura he held.

"Fairy Tail, I presume?" He spoke with an even, cool tone.

"Yes, that's us," Master Conbolt replied, grinning as he reached out a hand to shake the other's. "Pleased to meet ya."

The man turned raised his hands, calloused fingers forming a triangle and bowing his head towards him, muttering a peculiar phrase.

"Blessings be upon you," He intoned, lowering his hands to his sides. "My name is Kaseem Aladrah. Apologies, but by our customs, only loved ones or politicians shake hands. I am merely your guide."

"Ah, no, that was presumptuous of me!" Macao drew his hand back to his head, scratching it nervously as he laughed just as much. "So, did you happen to book a ship or another route across inland?"

"That would take too long, and her grace doesn't like waiting," The man replied, turning back to the tent and grabbing its front flap. Raising a finger, he muttered something under his breath and pulled.

What happened took the whole guild's breath away.

Out from the colorful tent emerged an enormous pair of swelling wings of golden decorum, unfurling outward while a faux head of a draconic effigy spirited out. As it grew in mass, where the abdomen of this golden creature's midsection would've been contained a large three story tall by five train cars long carriage. The wings themselves had multiple engines with balls of Lacrima infused into the containers, with similar propulsors spread around its belly and behind the tail. The head itself looked to be the pilot's chair, with a man who looked to be yawning as he was now just waking up from a nap he was having, adorned in similar robes to Kaseem's.

The door itself opened, and another man of deep tanned pigmentation with a white beard appeared, his red sashed-hood bristling as he grinned and waved over to the shocked, eye-bulging and mouth agape Fairy Tail mages.

"Hop on board the Divine Caravan, everyone," The bearded man said with gusto the guide hadn't expressed. "We can't keep our Queen waiting, can we?!"

"S-Sure," Macao tried to acquiesce, turning shakily to the rest with a shocked expression still on his face. "Y-You heard the man. Let's hop on board, r-right?"

"How did they hide an entire airship that massive within a small tent?" Charle asked with her face still comically oblong on her disproportionately sized body.

"Transformation Magic," Robyn replied, being among the few that recovered from the display that caused other staff of the train station and outlying shopping center to gawk. Keeping his hands behind his back, he shrugged his bare shoulders as his cloak rustled behind his back as he walked ahead sooner than the rest. "A big gauche for an airship design, but not bad coloration. At least we won't have such a long journey ahead of us."

"Do you think we're kinda causing a disturbance?" Doranbolt asked, side-glancing as he saw some of the station personnel looking visibly panicked at the sight of the newly formed vehicle. "This thing is massive, and is big enough to fit between these two massive structures. Can we even take off-?"

"You're thinking too hard," Eris patted Doranbolt's side, walking behind Robyn with Bobbie.

Blinking, Doranbolt looked down at Wendy and asked with a concerned expression, "Am I...overthinking this?"

"I think it'll be alright, if they think so," Wendy answered with a hesitant smile of her own.

"Well, at least we'll go in style," Max shrugged, marching ahead with the rest of the guild with a grin.

Sighing, the teleporter shook his head and walked ahead with Wendy and Charle side by side. Boarding the airship was its own ordeal as so many people had to be delegated by Macao so they wouldn't clog the small doorway. Just as large as the exterior appeared, it was plenty spacious on the inside, proving that it was a luxury ship in more ways than one. Red carpet smooth as silk with gold trim and ebony walls and ceilings with some paintings filling the halls. With separate bedrooms prepared with the purpose of housing up to four each, they possessed a kitchen that was already in the midst of producing wafting odors that was adjacent to a dining hall with window views that filled up all three stories of the airship carriage.

Guided to their rooms, Max was separated by the rest of his team on the bearded man's insistence.

"Uh-?" He turned to look back at Wendy, Doranbolt and Charle with hesitation.

"Is something the matter?" The man - later to be known as Bashiff, the Chief of the Airship The Divine Caravan - turned to blink curiously at Max. "I was about to show you to your quarters, sir candidate."

"I...uh," Max Alors swallowed, putting on his best brave face as he smiled back to the man and nodded with understanding. "Right, understood. I just wanted to make sure my friends' quarters were accommodating."

"My, what a thoughtful gesture," Bashiff applauded with a broad smile; all the while still shuffling him away with a nod, winking back at the others as he continued to speak with him. "It is unnecessary though. You must steel yourself, as the other candidates have been reported to have already been picked up by the others across the continent. You won't always have your friends to support you, so I suggest you take the time to get used to your room; there'll be one just like it when you arrive in the palace as the examinations commence."

"About that," Max brought up, raising a finger as he inquired with a nervous grin. "What's that all about?"

"To find anyone worthy of being Prince Consort to the Queen, one must be tested vigorously and be judged by those entrusted by her grace," He explained, gesturing with grandiose flare as much as his voice brushed out of his firm lips. "You must exemplify kingly qualities, but also ensure you know what it means to be the aide to the Queen. For unlike other monarchies, Desierto prides itself with nominated kings that support our queen everlasting!"

"How long has the Queen been in charge?"

"Are you trying to discern the age of her grace?" The man scrutinized with narrowed, wrinkly eyes.

"N-No, I'm just curious about your culture!" Max implored quickly with raised hands.

Dismissing the possibly rude inquiry, the man shrugged with hands waving around, "Who can say? It is unclear if her grace has had a blessed long lifespan or has handed down her rule to daughters unseen. None of the common folk are permitted to see the Queen you see, and the only time anyone sees her is during the husband selection ceremony. Its quite the occasion, akin to a holiday and is always announced upon the late passing of the previous Prince Consort. That way, mourning doesn't come with loss, but joy for someone new to help fulfill the role with just as much dignity and flare as the previous one."

"So, no one knows for sure?" The Sandstorm Mage questioned, his brows furrowed and his face clearly expressing a dubious look.

"It is not our place to know," Bashiff confessed with a smile. "You'll know for sure if you become Prince Consort, now won't you?"

"I...guess so," Max chuckled sheepishly, as he walked in tandem with the man.

Stopping at the far-end of the first floor hallway, he saw a glamorously outlined pair of red-wooded doors with golden-dragon heads for handles. Grasping them without hesitation, Bashiff pushed them open, allowing Max to see a spectacular glass-framed view of the outside. A spacious burgundy bed with cabinets of a similar color, golden-trimmed carpet just as the rest with a skinned tiger rug at the foot of the bed and a glass chandelier hanging over the center of the room.

"This will be your quarters, sir candidate," Bashiff proclaimed, waving his wrinkled hands around while observing Max's awed expression. "I take it everything is to your liking?"

"It's...quite frankly the best room I've ever seen!" He admitted with a nervous smile. "Sorry if I sound like a...a boor? Yeah, sorry if I sound like such a common folk, but this is almost too much-!"

"No apologies necessary," The man shook his head, waving his hand dismissively. "The Queen's Visier determines the worth of potential Consorts all around the world. Once an invitation is sent, you are as valid to be judged as a noble is to a pauper. Do not discredit yourself until you fail in such a spectacular fashion, everyone will laugh at your descendants for generations!"

"...wow, that really came as the most backhanded reassurance I've ever had," Max lowered his head with a grimace on his face, almost glaring at the older man.

"But you're a hero of this country, are you not?" Bashiff asked, a bright grin shared on his white-bearded, dark-tanned face as he slapped him on the back; straightening him upright from the surprising force an older man showed. "Stiff that upper lip, and be proud. I doubt you'd falter so easily if stopping those brigands that dared to harm her grace's treasury in such a way, hm?"

Max had almost forgotten why he may have been selected. This gentleman was showing him respect and courtesy he had never known, telling him that he shouldn't doubt himself. He now realized why he was separated from the others who've come to support him. If he slept in the same chambers as his friends, how could be emotionally prepare for spending the rest of his life potentially with a significant and important other?

Gripping his hands into fists, he ignored the stinging in his back and understood what the older man said.

Now isn't the time to doubt. Now's the time to ensure I can at least make through this, and see what kind of person the Queen is...and if its worth leaving my family in Fairy Tail for her.

As if noticing his line of thoughts, Bashiff nodded and left the hall, speaking aloud to those in the hall with a sudden exclamation that made Max wince.

"Why are you so FAT?! No, don't force yourself through the door! And you, stop doing that to the wall! Hey, don't run in the halls! What is wrong with all of you?!"

Sighing, Max set his bag down and laid across the bed, staring up at the chandelier as he felt the airship begin to ascend and then take off.

"Glad to see they haven't lost their spirit," Max spoke to himself, raising a hand up towards the glittering prisms that reflected light and danced over his head. Gripping his hand as if he was holding something precious, the man closed his eyes and let it fall over his head, slowly drifting off to sleep.

---

The take-off from Fiore's southernmost city - Clover Town - was a deceptively smooth one despite how large and visually unwieldy the Divine Caravan seemed to be. Maneuvering up into the sky, they accelerated off and moved in a beeline over the gulf and straight across the nation of Minstrel. They said it'd likely take two days to reach the destination of the capital, and maybe three if weather wasn't favorable.

Due to the poor reputation of Minstrel's lawlessness, they kept a higher elevation to avoid being targeted by the territories that was permissive in attacking those who were within range. Thankfully nothing seemed to have come of it, so the guild enjoyed the even more lavish accommodations within the aerial luxury liner.

Bashiff seemed to have been the man in charge of the ship, despite the introductions being made of Kaseem Aladrah. It was explained by the chief that he was in charge of guiding them there, and seemed to know the proper routes across Desierto that didn't possess as much problems as the others did. Accordingly, even by sky, Desierto had harsh weather conditions ranging from sandstorms, fire spouts, and electrical waves bursting from the earth caused by unusual magnetic backlash of mineral deposits.

Eating lavish food, Max was thankful to re-integrate with his friends in Team Wendy at the dining hall. Robyn was busy gorging himself on the food-stuffs, proving that his appetite matched that of other known Slayers; even Wendy herself - despite restraining herself - couldn't help but eat a lot more than she remembered almost a year ago. Perhaps her body was growing and she didn't know about it?

"You look better," Eris noted from across the table, her pink-head tilting as Max scooped up rich meats and vegetables by silverware provided to him. He looked her way and she smiled at him. "I see you found your resolve."

"Wasn't on my own. Bashiff was just being really nice, like the grandfather I never had," Max admitted with a smile, turning to see the elderly man make the rounds of inspecting the conditions of the dining hall.

"He seems like a good man given a big responsibility," Charle noted aloud, her feet resting on several cushions to keep herself propped up at the table's level. "I feel bad that some of Fairy Tail can be a bit...rowdy."

"Doranbolt, stop that-!"

"I must taste the table!"

"NOOOOOO!" Bashiff exclaimed in a horrified bellow as before Max even realized, Doranbolt had an odd bulging-eyed expression as he chomped down on the table next to his plate, chomping it on it like some bizarre-nutcracker would. The older man had to pry him off with the help of Wendy before the scarred man finally regained his composure and fervently apologized, much to Max's chagrin.

"Sorry, I don't know what came over me," The teleporter spoke with his head hanging down.

Robyn let out a massive belch that echoed the entire dining hall, bringing all eyes to him. The long-haired boy just looked around, taking a napkin and daintily wiping his lips, letting out a more quite burp, before saying aloud, "Excuse me."

"Dragon lungs aren't to be underestimated, I see," Wendy fathomed with a sheepish expression overcoming her visage. "As well as stomachs."

"This is nice," Max noted aloud.

"What is?" Bobbie inquired, suddenly beside the Sand Mage without him realizing it.

Fighting back the urge to question his own awareness of things, the bowl-cut haired man scratched his cheek, smiling with sincerity, "Being here, with you guys before everything gets heavy. I just got a feeling things are going to be weird once this stuff starts happening, you know?"

"Hmmm," Bobbie Blondes hummed, slurping up some noodles while everyone else seemed to stay silent in agreement.

Pursing his lips, Max turned on his seat and looked at the sighing Bashiff, and questioned from where he sat to the older man, "Hey, we only have another day before we reach the capital, right?"

"An estimation, according to our guide," Bashiff replied, recomposing himself in a dignified straight posture. "Weather can be especially fickle in Desierto. Apart from the capital, nothing is quite certain. That and there's always other dangers, such as wildlife and-"

The whole world seemed to tilt to a ninety degree angle to the right. Dishes, tables, and surprisingly everything apart from the dining patrons remained in place despite the laws of gravity at play. It dawned on some that some form of enchantment kept the inside of the airship stable and centered, even when jarred. However, the movement was so abrupt it wasn't completely cancelled, and indicated something akin to an alarm.

Then came a stream of fire that painted the glass-observatory of the dining hall's three stories, barely a few dozen meters from where they were coasting moments ago.

"W-What was that?!" Charle cried out with alarm.

"Bandits," Bashiff answered, with certainty as much as he was finishing his own earlier statement. "To think they would be so bold as to attack her grace's escort? How could they have known about our movements if not for-?"

"Should we assist?" Doranbolt asked, standing upright from the table.

"No! You are guests, not combatants!" The older man refused outright, placing his hands on the teleporter's shoulders with a firm grip behind his wrinkled fingers. "Please, remain calm. Our guide will protect us."

"But he's just one guy!" Max protested, standing upright with a look of seriousness locking onto Bashiff's. "If bandits are attacking, then actual non-combatants on board could be in danger. The crew, and some of our friends as well. Let us help!"

The old man looked stunned. Even as the airship rocked back the opposite end, dipping and pulling up as more streams of fire sought purchase against the elegantly designed craft, he felt a sudden charge in the air. He looked over and saw more and more mages stood up, eyes looking at each other with a glint of determination across their eyes. They all looked towards him, and he couldn't help but let out a sigh and shake his head.

"May she forgive me for this," He muttered, pulling out a glass orb - A Communication Lacrima, no doubt - and spoke into it as it showed the face of the pilot. "Lower our altitude."

"But sir, the guide said that-"

"Our guests...no...Fairy Tail said it wishes to fend off our attackers on no urge of our own. Lower to an altitude that'd allow us to dock," He impassioned, bringing a smile on Max and the rest's faces.

"Understood, Chief Bashiff. I see a dune up ahead and it seems these bandits are mobile. We should meet them shortly after touchdown."

---

The majestic golden dragon angled its wings to deliver its large statuesque frame to a particularly square-shaped dune in the distance. Landing with ease, a billowing dust cloud was released from the lander-propulsors kicking up the grains and swathing it in a thick silhouette of its draconic shape. It was plainly visible by way of greyish-yellow spotted lizards that swayed sinuously through the sand as their legs kicked up the sand while barely sinking into its pliant surface.

Numbering nearly a dozen, the creatures were easily as large as a house - or a moderately sized cafeteria back in Magnolia - while hoisting eight to ten individuals on their backs on cramped saddles with a number of large bags strapped to their sides. Hissing out flame from their toothless mouths, eyes darting in opposite directions as they instinctively kept track of their environment.

At the head of them was a man with a wild mane that sprouted from a ponytail while the rest of his skull was shaved bare, replaced by black claw tattoo that wrapped around his broad jawline. His face was painted as if it was a skeleton, with the rest of his body enamored bare-skinned apart from some ragged cloth intertwined with leather-straps adorned over his pelvic region, shins and arms, leaving him mostly without any real defense. It didn't matter to him, as his massive body seemed to dwarf the others as he took up the whole saddle himself while the others of normal bodily disposition of varying shapes had cloaks, armor of a light maneuverable kind.

"Gehehehe, they're landing? Looks like they don't want to crash and burn; must have valuable cargo aboard along with one of them candidates," The leader of the bandits proclaimed aloud, grinning so that the faux-painted teeth spread in conjunction with his hideous black ones within his mouth. Turning to look over his shoulder, he pulled on the reins of his mount, raising what looked like a chainsaw sword in hand as he bellowed out to his men. "Ransack the ship! Leave the candidate alive so we can ransom him; the rest you can do as you please!"

As soon as he said this, the cloud of sand began to swirl around, fiercely till it resembled a twister than a simple veil of visual obstruction. Rising up like a serpent, the head of the spiraling vortex of grain then thrust towards them like a massive spear, aiming to bowl through all of them in a single bound.

Without provocation, the Sand Salamanders' necks swelled up and then vomited out geysers of fire, all crashing against the sand wave that sought to crush them. The intense billow of heat and grains of earth clashed in an intense flash of light and desert soil, causing the bandit leader to grimace and raise a massive hand to shield his eyes from the shards of glass that was bouncing from the melting heat. The scoundrel then widened his eyes, hearing something swell over his head and he looked up-

-just in time to see a spritely figure jumping in the way of the Sun of Desierto, with a rush of hot air filling her lungs that caused her dainty sized body to expand; right before unleashing a massive pillar of wind straight down towards them.

"You son of a-!" The bandit leader began to swear, pulling back his chainsaw blade and swinging it with a ripping roar, shredding the air wave that sought to pulverize him and separating it into two blasts that kicked up dust around the mounted bandits.

"That's impressive. You must not be common raiders to possess creatures and weapons dangerous enough to counter magic," A voice spoke up ahead of the settling glass fragments. The bandit leader squinted his eyes, seeing a white-coated man strutted forward. Flanked by him was a man with a pompadour and a green tee-shirt, his baggy pants flowing as he smoked on a pipe that puffed up a noticeable white cloud around himself. Encircling the horde of bandits was the entirety of Fairy Tail, with all of them clenching fists, glaring ahead and some of them smiling at the idea of a challenge.

"Who the Hell are all of you?!" The bandit leader yelled out, clearly enraged at the idea of being counterattacked. "Why are a bunch of mages on a ship like that?! You don't look like consort candidates!"

"So you are targeting me," Max stepped forward, the bowl-cut man's hair fluttering in a sudden hot wind as he raised his suit-jacketed arms up with sleeves pulled back to his elbows. "Sorry if you didn't get the memo, but this is my family; you're dealing with the most fearsome Guild of Fiore now!"

"Tch! It doesn't matter how many of you there are!" The man yelled out, veins throbbing across his painted face as he raised his chainsaw blade, revving it up with a pull on the cord as a magical engine howled, causing the teeth of the weapon to light up like flames. "I'll tear your friends apart, and sell you off for a fortune!"

The salamander's mouth opened, preparing to unleash a massive geyser of flame towards the frontline-

"TOO SLOW!" Macao yelled, throwing his hands out and forming a large violet hand that grabbed the Sand Salamander's mouth and slamming it shut.

The lizard's eyes bulged, tearing up and then suddenly swelled up like a balloon before snorting out fire while shooting cartoonishly backwards with the leader still on his back. Crashing into an adjacent dune, the rest of the thugs tried to have their mounts unleash their deadly payloads likewise only to have their mouths suddenly clenched shut by a series of plant-like vices.

"Plant Magic: Green Knots!" Droy declared with a grin, being propped up on Jet's shoulders in a humorous style of piggybacking teamwork from the quick blur of motion they performed in tandem with one another.

Like the others, the salamanders' ballooned up and thrashed against against the sandy terrain with massive blasts. But, unlike their dangerous steeds, the bandits emerged explosively and howled with maddening ambition. Swinging their weapons, they'd be surprised to see numerous fists of smoke and purple flame slamming into their chests, faces and arms, sending a good number of them flying backwards with ease by the two senior Fairy Tail Mages.

"Sorry, but this is a free-for-all," Wakaba intoned with a sly grin watching the bandits look shocked at the power of the mages that dealt with nearly a third of their number so easily. "Don't expect us to take it easy on you or fight fair. You did start this after all."

"Who says about fightin' fair?" A wiry thin thug sneered, diving into the sand as if he was a swimmer. Twisting in and around the ground he'd emerge upward like a serpent, bodily twining himself around the pipe-adorned mage and constricted with bone-crushing force; only to find that he puffed out in a cloud of smoke.

"W-Wha-GAH!"

"That was a Smoke Double," Wakaba spoke aloud as he landed a few more gaseous punches from a distance, a few more appearing beside him taking up cocky stances around him. "You must have an interesting body to do that. You sure you're not a mage?"

On the other side of the field of chaos, Doranbolt was seen casually rushing up to thugs, grasping their arms just as they'd make contact with their weapon and then porting them into one another with a few streaks of motion. Several others were handily chopped and kicked by Wendy, while Eris nimbly dodged and weaved, making a few other bandits strike each other in comical fashion. Bobbie, on the other hand, just watched with a dull expression that was mirrored by Robyn raising a hand to yawn as they observed the rest of Fairy Tail dispatch the sturdy bandits with ease.

"Man, this is a drag," The beautiful boy drawled out, fanning his face with a free hand. "I'm out here in the insufferable heat because of some notion of nobility. Like, I get the satisfaction of comeuppance, but did I need to be out here?"

"Do you want to return to the ship?" Bobbie asked plainly.

"I mean, it's funny watching these fools get their just desserts," Robyn grinned halfway. "Reminds me of the ruffians and scoundrels I recruited not long ago. Though these guys definitely are a big tougher. Must be because of the harsher environment."

As if answering the unsaid question, a loud rippling roar was felt as much as it was heard. Turning his head with Bobbie, the pair would see a crimson spiraling blade carving the sand while propelling from beneath its waves, maneuvering towards the group like a hungry shark of the loose grains beneath. Realizing whom it belonged to, the blue haired boy raised his right heeled boot and slammed it into the ground-

-causing a massive carving fissure of water to tear through the earth and halt the charge of the carving blade's trajectory to the rest of the mages of Fairy Tail.

Expelled from the ground, the giant bandit chief revealed himself with blade in hand, etched with a furious expression as he swung his blade around as it continued to roar in his grip like a wild animal.

"You...dare?!" He snarled out with red veins painting the whites of his eyes.

"Stand back, Bobbie," Robyn told her, taking off his hat and tossing it to her, revealing the finned-ears and scales that sprouted along with his gloves and legs as water already began to swirl from his body. "I want to see how I fair in this climate."

"As you wish," The buxom blonde nodded, deftly leaping away just in time for the fiery teeth of the bandit chieftain slammed into Robyn's front.

A savage grin turned into a wide-eyed snarl, witnessing Robyn's slitted eyes looking up defiantly at him. Holding the fiery blade still, halting its chains endowed with flame in a revolving current of water as formed by his partial use of Armor of the Maelstrom, he pushed it back upwards with surprising strength for his size.

"This is a neat toy," Robyn commented with a sharp-toothy smirk, his watery claws digging into its framework. "But it's not nearly strong enough to deal with me!"

Yanking it forward, he slammed a foot straight into his chest, causing the giant man to lurch as a torrent of water spun into his chest and sent him flying off his feet. His enormous stature took some of the barely standing bandits off guard, crashing into them and slamming into the dune face they were docked in adjacency to the chaos. As the dust settled, Robyn sighed, disengaging his dragon slayer magic and returned to his normal human appearance.

"Over already?" Robyn shook his head with a smirk. "I guess I underestimate my strength sometimes."

Doranbolt eyed the androgynous man warily, seeing the giant chieftain struggle to get back to his feet, coughing up blood as he did so.

"No sissy...is going to beat me...in a single blow," The giant bandit growled, veins throbbing all over his body.

"You can barely stand," The 2nd Generation Dragon Slayer noted aloud, calling out to him from the distance while gesturing to the rest of his crew bloodied and bruised in the ground. "Your men are beaten, and so are you. Might as well give up."

"I still got...this!"

The bandit chieftain brandished a sudden an elaborate curved dagger, fitting into his hand the size of a scimitar to anyone else. It hummed with an ominous energy, and radiated magical power all its own. Chuckling through the heaves of effort of his chest, he began to call out an incantation, "Oh Lord of Sacrilege, Defile me so they taste humilia-"

In an instant, a blur of instantaneous movement was seen as Doranbolt slammed a fist into the man's jugular. Choking out with bulging eyes, the teleporter grabbed his head with both hands and slammed both knees into his nostrils, breaking the nose and flipped up over him and threw him into the ground with prejudice. In a loud crashing impact, the man loosened his grasp on the blade and lied limp in a heap while the scarred man sighed with relief.

"D-D-Doranbolt!" Robyn cried out, the man blinking and turning to look at Robyn's puffed up face. "W-What the Hell, man?!"

"He was about to use something dangerous," Doranbolt answered matter-of-fact, pointing to his unconscious form. "So, I stopped him."

"But that would've been cool to see!"

"...and risk endangering everyone else?"

"GRAH!" Robyn stomped, Bobbie appearing by his side and placing the hat on his head as he squat-walked back to the ship as he averted his gaze to Doranbolt, grumbling under his breath the whole time.

"Did...did I do something wrong?" Doranbolt inquired, looking over to Macao, Wakaba and Wendy as they walked up to him with Max and the others in tow.

"No, you were right. Nice quick thinking to hit his vital spots before dropping him," Macao complimented with a smile, patting Doranbolt on the shoulder. "Come on. Since there's no authorities out here we'll just leave them as is and they can reflect on their mistakes. No use executing them here."

"I suppose," Doranbolt turned, his eyes looking down at the man's side where the dagger was. "Wait a minute...it was just here."

"What was?" Wendy inquired as she reached the man's side.

"That strange weapon that had its own magical energy. It's gone!"

"Maybe it's in the sand somewhere-"

A sudden eruption of blood filled the air. Everyone's eyes widened as their return halted at the sudden movement that the sand itself rose up and cut through each of the fallen bandits, butchering them into piles of meat. Even the giant didn't escape, leaving everyone to see Kaseem standing at the top of the dune where the airship was parked, pulling a blade out of the loose earth and revealing an elegantly rune-engraved scimitar in hand; in the other hand, was the smaller dagger-like curved sword in his grip.

"Return to the Divine Caravan at once," He ordered, his eyes glaring down at the rest of Fairy Tail as he sheathed his sword on his hip while pocketing the other weapon in his cloak. "We will tolerate no more delays because of personal whims."

Max, Wendy and Doranbolt now knew why Bashiff said their guide would protect them. The fact he could land such brutal attacks from a distance showed that he was likely waiting for the bandits to get closer. What was disturbing was the fact that he confiscated the suspicious weapon, and then executed the unconscious men without hesitation; criminals or not, it painted him in a light that didn't sit well with the rest of Fairy Tail.

With reluctance, they boarded the Divine Caravan, and took back into the sky towards their course.

---

Wendy didn't know what to make of their escort.

On the one hand, Bashiff had been nothing but a great host - if not an exhausted one - while showing them kindness and patience all throughout their short time spent together. However, unlike him was their guide, Kaseem who seemed harsh and unwilling to show even a moderate sense of courtesy. He had remained silent and distant throughout their trek, not interacting with any of them throughout their skyward journey.

As she processed her thoughts, she was eventually joined at the top of the dining room observatory window by Max.

"Hey Wendy," Max greeted her with a small smile, nodding to her at the rising Sun horizon in view of the Airship. "You're up early."

"I guess I couldn't sleep much," The Sky Dragon Slayer admitted with a sigh. "But, you're up early too."

"Still a bit shook up from yesterday I suppose," Max confessed, scratching his cheek as he stood up next to her. "That and the anxiety of what's to come."

"You'll do great, Max," Wendy assured him.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because, just hearing your words gave us all so much confidence and stirred us up into action," She placed a hand on his shoulder, her amber eyes twinkling up at his surprised gaze. "You have the makings of a great leader. You'll do fantastic at whatever you want to do."

The man smiled, placing a hand on Wendy's head and rubbing it affectionately, much to her giggling chagrin.

"Thanks," He said, looking towards the horizon with his spirit renewed. "I know I got this. I'm just scared, is all."

"We're all here for ya!"

"I know," Max nodded, gazing at the sparking Sun in the distance.

Then, the Sun glimmered, and out from the sandy sea came something fantastic.

"Whoa, is that-"

"-the Capital?!"

The two finished after one another, seeing the enormous city unfold in scope before their approach. An enormous crystal-shaped dome rested over a series of square-blocks, all gleaming of the color of the Sun, while its surrounding smaller structures all had a similar tangent of yellowish-bricks and crimson flags brandishing the standard of the nation of a two-winged dragon soaring up high into the sky on a red backdrop. With hangars holding similar airships encircled around the outer perimeter, one could see a river that rose up out of the sandy sea that ran within a third of the outer area of the capital before diving back into the loose grained soil. A white-blue fort lied across from a circular stadium, while pockets of villages rested along solid roads that managed to be made beyond the walls that encircled the whole of the capital that seemed to be just as substantial if not larger than Crocus itself.

"Amazing view, isn't it?" Bashiff said, walking up to the two in tow with the rest of the guild, all rushing to get a good look as they ooh'd and awe'd at the spectacular site just within reach. "Welcome to our pride and glory: Paradisio."

---

A/N:

LastationLover5000: This was one heck of a chapter to work on, everyone! By far, this is our longest chapter yet, capping out somewhere around 15k, and I'm glad to see our new arc — the Queen of the Dunes arc — is seeing its first chapter set off with such a splashy beginning! My section was sadly the smaller, but I tried my best to make it as good as I could; Max is a character my co-author and I are both coming to enjoy, so I wanted to expand on the man a little, give him some backstory without conflicting with the very little bit we know. Macao is another person I'm trying to make reliable; notice both he and Wakaba got to shine in different sections? My co-author's section got nice lore expansion, our first real look at Desierto, from its culture to its criminals, and even their technology. And best of all, we ended it making it to the Capital! I cannot stress how excited we both are for this new arc, and we hope you all will be here to enjoy it!

Demod20: Oh man, this chapter is a *doozy*. Not only did I write the largest portion yet, but this is the largest chapter yet. Lots of character development, changes in appearance, and interactions made while world building is a'going. Even some classifiers for bandits on how they operate differently than criminals within Fiore, with their own special skills and weapons, with even fire breathing lizards. I enjoyed characterizing every bit. I thank my partner for his first bit of helping establish the beginning of preparation for the trip and I had a blast writing the twists, turns and comedic to dramatic moments. I'll look forward to the next chapter, and establishing Paradisio, the Capital of Desierto! ^^