Tales of the Sky Maiden
By LastationLover5000 and Demod20
Chapter 20 - Manipulated Destiny
Bashiff walked with dignity down the vast carpeted corridor of red and gold as he sought out the head of the consort trials. While he was among many caretakers of the potential prince consorts, he had no authority of bestowing the honor of becoming her grace's new husband. Strangest of all, the man in charge wasn't a noble nor a native; he was a sorcerer from a faraway land named Midi and had impressed the previous Visier to be appointed part of the Queen's inner circle.
Approaching the door to the Visier's chambers, Bashiff heard murmurs from beyond the four-headed beasts of Desierto engraved in four cardinal directions on the golden door. He furrowed his bushy brows and slowed his his walk till he silently crept up to the entrance, noting a luminous bluish light emitted from beneath the entry. Swallowing, he cautiously raised a hand and rapped his knuckles on the frame, announcing himself for permission to enter.
The door split in four parts, receding into the walls, ceiling and floor, leaving Bashiff to enter the spacious room. There sat Ja'far on a velvet cushioned golden chair with curled red wings akin to a dragon's, speaking in a hushed whisper into what looked like an ornate Communications Lacrima in one hand while the other motioned for Bashiff to enter.
As he did, the caretaker gave a cursory glance around the chambers. Unlike the previous Visier, this chamber resembled a mage's workshop rather than a royal dignitary of such a high station. Glass tubes bubbling with various colored chemicals steamed and poured into beakers or vials awaiting the transmission of the final product. A strange skull lied on a shelf with gems encrusted in its eyes among a myriad of Lacrima stacked on display. Ceremonial looking blades engraved with familiar symbols hung on racks and chests flanking the man's desk with no visible seam for opening them.
The left of the chamber was a curtain where he presumably slept, which Bashiff had no interest in ogling. Strangely, though, there was a strange odor in the air he couldn't quite place. A perfume or spice of some kind that wasn't present in the room the last time he had an audience.
"How is the progress of elimination, Kuon?" The Visier asked more audibly, as if no longer caring if he was heard by Bashiff.
"More than half of the candidates have either forfeited or have been found lacking in qualities to be a proper Prince Consort. There are less than ninety remaining," Her smooth voice was heard, though her likeness wasn't visible from Bashiff's perspective
Ja'far thinly smiled, pleased the rabble had been reduced to a minimum. Still he gave a humored chuckle and asked rhetorically to the woman, "Is that all? Are you getting soft after so many have been culled?"
"I do not have pleasure or pity. I am an embodiment of her grace and the laws of this land. I do what I must and no more. The fact so many passed the preliminary trial is just a testament to the strength of their character," She answered smoothly, never once breaking under the Visier's snide comment on her performance as proctor.
"Or a failing of an archaic system," Ja'far sighed, rubbing a hand over his strong built face and rubbing the bridge of his nose exasperated. "Very well. I shall join you shortly to start the trials. Proceed with preparation."
"Understood, Visier," She finished, a faint crackling heard as the transmission ended on the Lacrima device.
"You asked for me?" Bashiff cleared throat.
"Ah yes," The Governing Overseer exhaled, standing up and clasping his hands behind his robed back. "I trust you've seen the preliminary trial nearly to its full extent. Tell me, as the oldest caretaker of her majesty, who do you see being the most likely to gain favor among the unseen judges?"
The handler was surprised. He was dragged from his duties of not just relaying responsibilities given by the Queen but also assisting his personal charge of Max Alors, to give his opinion?
No, it was evident that there was an ulterior motive. The Visier has always had one, even if it wasn't transparent.
"I believe there are several likely to go through the trials with flying colors," He carefully spoke in a neutral tone, his eyes never betraying his suspicion of the man standing across from him. "However, the Four Judges have rejected suitors even when passing trials before. Just because I see potential doesn't mean they'll be accepted by them, let alone the courtship of her grace."
"Perhaps that is a mistake of tradition rather than the suitors themselves?" Ja'far inquired back in a rhetorical manner.
"What are you getting at, Visier?"
"What I'm getting at is that it is high time things change for the better for this nation," He spoke, turning to walk around the desk, his stride leaving him within arm's reach to the older man as he continued his point. "If you haven't noticed, our country has more roving vagabonds across this vast desert than citizens living in cities like this one. Consolidating them all and improving the way of living is necessary for improving this stagnating realm, and life threatening traditions such as the Prince Consort Trials need to be done away with."
Bashiff raised his hand to rub the bridge of his nose.
"Lord Visier, this discussion is not appropriate to have when we are in the middle of the trials!" He exclaimed, opening his eyes wide and lowered his voice to a harsh whisper to the younger governing official. "You are an outsider, you see our traditions as chains, but they have existed for nearly a thousand years for a reason. I understand how this may seem barbaric-"
"I had to kill a man today for traditions!" Ja'far hissed, his hand whipping out from his back while glaring back into his eyes. "I am sick and tired of putting up with this act. She is not a god. She shouldn't line up people from the outside for a chance to be her lapdog!"
"The Prince Consorts are not pets! They are a lynchpin within our governing this tumultuous and hazardous country," Bashiff rebuked, feeling himself slip into visible anger at the Visier's audacity. "Not to mention they give some of their foreign experience to benefit our country, as well as provide companionship to our Queen."
"Yet you demonize me for my foreign ideals for change but it was the previous Visier who saw my talent and potential for greatness," The Visier snapped, sighing as he shook his head. "I'm wasting my time. You say you see potential candidates, I just pray one that can bring genuine change is chosen. For all of our sake."
Bashiff felt a bit of pity. The man who was brought out of a faraway land to help govern this one and was barred from helping in his own way due to centuries of tradition.
"Then I'll return to my duties."
"As will I," Ja'far grunted as he left his chambers ahead of the man.
Engrossed in bitter frustration of a never ending cycle.
Wendy was anxious by the time the next trial began.
Wendy was anxious by the time the next trial began.
Given the deaths of the dishonored candidates along with the royal dignitary who accompanied the more entitled one, she was shaken with how uncaring the people were to such violence being admitted. Truly, even those who bore witness to the public beating of an already punished man just the previous day, she got an eerie chill the more she observed these proceedings.
There is something wrong with this country…
As she pondered this, the images of the trial were recreated, this time with more splendor than the vague imprints of sand effigies before. Flawless recreations of the would-be Prince Consorts were seen talking to a faceless stand-in for the Queen, standing within a spacious chamber of beautifully immaculate tiles and ivory pillars that rose up to an invisible ceiling.
Instead of any drawn out proceeding for explanation, the candidates were all left to make up their own mind using intuition or feeling as to go forward. Some walked up and began conversing, others bowed before her to pay homage, some even making flattering speeches. Most differed from each other but all approached with seriousness and respect.
Max and the Silver Knight stood out to her most.
"Care to have this dance, your grace?" Max Alors asked with a gentleman bow and gesture for her hand.
"How forward!" Charle gaped, with Wendy gasping with blushes on her cheeks.
"Did he go too far?" Macao thought aloud as there was stillness involved with his interaction. Then, a hand slipped into his and they began to dance. "She accepted it!"
"Wow! Max is showing actual poise," Wakaba stated with a wry grin, elbowing the Guild Master of Fairy Tail as Kinana and Romeo leaned over their booth's balcony to watch with starlit eyes of wonder at the picturesque scene. "Has he always known how to dance like that?"
"I've never seen him dance, let alone like that," He shrugged, eyeing Bashiff sitting amidst the lower seats of candidate handlers; though he stood out as he was the only one with a proud, bearded smile upon his face. "Though I get the feeling he may have gotten some help since we last saw him."
"He isn't the only one doing suave," Laki beamed, gesturing to the tall armored figure - Der Weiß Ritter - was also dancing with the Queen. Unlike Max who had a more upbeat yet slick movement with the faceless ruler, the knight had a more slow and graceful set of footwork.
This earned a chorus of 'ooos' and 'awwws' from the crowd of both foreigner and citizen. Applause was made and Bashiff nodded with approval along with another caretaker who was responsible for Sir Ritter.
However, a sudden click of the tile was heard by Wendy's dragon ears.
To her horror, Max had stepped on what looked like a booby trapped tile!
"Max!" She cried out, watching with shock along with her fellow Fairy Tail Wizards as a hole opened up beneath Max and the faceless effigy. A compulsion to save him overtook her, and she felt a hand grasp her shoulder, holding her in place with a strong yet comforting grip.
"Calm down, Wendy," Doranbolt said, smiling over at her to ease her worries. Gesturing with his eyes, she looked again as he continued to speak. "Max has gone against riskier things than a trap like that."
Truly, Max fell with her, grasping the royal mimic around the waist as he had moments to spare. Descending out of sight, the pair rose up into the air with a geyser of sand firing from a downward pointing palm. Rising up high, he halted his ascent and discharged a wave of sand for a soft landing amidst the tiled ground he was near to.
"He's okay!" Wendy exclaimed, her nervousness dissipating almost instantly as he kept a firm grip around the mock queen.
Meanwhile, the other candidates were assailed from various kinds of attacks. Pit traps, arrows, and even phantom attackers rushed at each in a measured offensive. What seemed like pandemonium was entertaining for the masses, once again making the outrage and fear the supporters of the candidates feel polarizing.
Elidyr Oladove was the first to react after Max Alors. Despite his attempt at timid flattery and respect, his elven ears twitched and he stood erect. Twisting around on his feet a radiant glow emitted from his body and an ovular barrier of light shielded him from a storm of darts that sought himself and the pseudo Queen. Gesturing, he repelled them away while firing beams of light from his palm that shot like bullets at more projectiles that seemed to appear from varying directions around the chamber.
"Stay close, your grace!" He spoke with unusual confidence, the golden haired elf of Seven clapping his hands and palming the floor.
"Light Magic: Trifix's Cocoon!"
From the tiled ground emerged a complex weave of colored light that solidified into glass-like particles of an octagonal shape around himself and the mock queen. The attacks that rained upon him were not just stopped but eradicated by flashes of light that touched their myriad colored surfaces.
"He's good," Eris commented, Robyn next to her spectating with an amused smirk on his face as she marveled at her kindred's actions. "He may not have charisma, but his magic is sublime. I see why he was selected for these trials; unfortunate this is likely not the norm for combat to a feature for a king."
"He's not the only standout," The Water Dragon Slayer pointed to the shining knight.
Half a dozen wraith slashed at the armored candidate with ethereal blades. Each one whiffed as the figure swiveled on metal heels, pushing the queen away as they drew their sword.
And the armor danced. A blade of pure white struck through each attacker with precision, lethal swathes cutting down the ghosts and leaving them as wisps of mist around the mystery knight. Reminding Robyn of the Jade armored knight in a way, somehow this swordsman was easily defeating a good host of attackers as their numbers multiplied with the measure of their threat.
"Allow me to dispatch them, your highness,"
Der Weiß Ritter spoke stoically, the blade shining a brilliant light from its weapon. Leaping into the air, the shine of the metal instrument became blinding to the audience, forcing all to cover their eyes from its harsh rays.
"Goddess Technique: Luminous Cross!"
With a loud bellow, the blade carved through the mass of wraiths, eradicating them unseen by all while a cross shaped cleave cracked into the arena floor in front of them.
Many marveled these feats of the two similar candidates of magic and strength. However, guffaws were made to the ones that failed; some more than others.
"Too bad enough learned their lessons from before," Robyn quipped as he gestured at some of the other candidates.
While a majority did their best to follow suite of protecting their respective monarch replicas, being injured in the process for most others weren't so lucky. Some abandoned the queen to avoid death, only to find themselves begin to swallowed by darkness that emerged from their very shadows and grounded to dust near instantly.
Max was too busy engrossed in avoiding more traps of propped up turrets that fired arrows from flipped tiles nearby to react to them. Sweeping sand around in streaks to deflect the missiles seeking to impale the queen effigy and himself, he grew annoyed at the sight of other crossfire of nearby contraptions nearly drawing him in.
"Dammit!" He swore, keeping a firm hold of his pseudo queen, raising his hand into the air and collecting all of the sand he formed earlier into a swirling sphere. Blades erected from its sides and what looked like a spinning sphere of earth with particles whistling around it, he took aim and threw it in a curved arch towards the trap turrets.
"Slicing Sand Comet!" He declared, his new spell slashing through one after the other like a buzzsaw, finally hitting the last one-
KRAK-KOOOOOOM!
-with a loud explosion of sand that tidal waved over the arena as it destroyed many more traps and contraptions around him. The literal sandstorm shredded, bludgeoned and pushed all in its way, effectively demolishing all of the traps, physical and not, that were around his vicinity. Had it not been for the separate location the candidates were placed, a shower of sand would surely assail the spectators as well.
The audience was stunned. Quieted by the feat of magic unusual for such an occasion as this. No longer crying out or applauding, all were still with mouths open and eyes blank.
Ja'far himself stared wide eyed with various members of the royal attendance at what Max accomplished. Many of the candidates who were around him were nearly swept away by the force of his magic, and some actually were. Elidyr and Sir Ritter stared agape as sand swathed around them, staggering them both from what felt like an earthquake that stampeded through.
"Wow," Wendy gasped, blinking with amazement at what she saw.
"Max...certainly has been working hard since that time ago," Charle spoke calmly, yet a tinge of pride showing on her furred lips.
"It seems to be the Fairy Tail style to go overkill," Doranbolt noted aloud, cupping his chin and thinking audibly. "I wonder, what flashy move of my own I can perform?"
"Feeling competitive are we?" Bobbie asked with a smirk.
"More like inspired," He admitted with a smile towards her. "I forget how hard his efforts are. I doubt we would have accomplished what we did those six months ago, when we faced against your little band of thieves."
"Hmm," She hummed thoughtfully, looking down at Max. Sweating yet smiling with relief, he held onto his Queen effigy with a sense of pride. In her eyes, she started to see why he was seen as worthy when before she and some had not.
Standing tall, he, Der Weiß Ritter, Elidyr and a dozen remained standing whereas others were haggard or barely alive.
Kuon stepped forth, raising her hands and clapping once, breaking everyone out of their trance and bringing things forward.
"The Trial of Treachery is complete. Those who have survived yet did poorly are to be exited from the trials. Those who stand tall and successful, we move you on to the next trial; the Trial of Counciling. Please ready yourselves as we will begin shortly," She spoke, stepping back to the royal assembly.
One now suddenly devoid of two notable figures.
Doranbolt, having kept a persistent watch of their lot, narrowed his eyes. Walking over to Macao, he whispered something in the Guild Master's ear before walking quickly away.
Wendy, noticing his departure, turned to Macao with a look of uncertainty on her face.
"Don't worry about him," Macao said with a big smile. "He just had to use the restroom. He'll be back soon."
"Oh...okay," She replied, visibly looking nervous as she turned away. She knew a lie when she heard it, and something felt off. What did Doranbolt notice that she didn't?
Please be careful...
Stealth.
If there was one thing Doranbolt knew better than how to lie, it was how to remain undetected. Neither was a trait he should be particularly proud of, however, at this point, Doranbolt didn't care if he was a decent man. As long as he kept Wendy safe, he would operate as underhandedly as was necessary. That had always been his code, but now he was directed it towards a different purpose.
His mind preoccupied, Doranbolt moved unconsciously. Ever since their encounter in the city, the former Rune Knight knew something was suspicious about this whole affair. He couldn't place what it was, but he knew letting his guard down in this strange land with his charge so close was a fool's mistake. Seeing, however, Ja'far and Kaseem, two individuals who should be paying the most attention to the selection process, missing during the middle of it, set alarm bells ringing in Doranbolt's head. He needed to know where they were, what they were doing, but more importantly...
...how much of a threat were they under?
I'm grateful so many of us came along, Doranbolt thought. This whole thing could be a trap...but I hope I'm just overreacting. Doranbolt didn't need to think about how far he'd go to save Max if something happen. They'd fought side-by-side in Crocus, after all. Even if Doranbolt wasn't sure how he felt about all of Fairy Tail just yet - one couldn't expect to consider a group of strangers family - his time in the counsel taught him the value of fighting alongside comrades. With a twinge of guilt, he remembered Lahar. He's fine. No time to dwell on that now.
Weaving deftly through the halls, Doranbolt proceeded adept at manoeuvring unseen. With a combination of agile, ninja-like movements, and the exploitation of Direct Line to keep himself out of light and sight, Doranbolt kept moving. During his time as a Council spy, he'd had experience in pursuit and tailing, and knew well enough that if his targets were within the building, they would not use any of the rooms he found himself passing.
Lesser fools than government officials have spilled secrets in easy to access locations...no... Doranbolt pressed himself behind a pillar as a dark-skinned staff member walked by, humming to occupy herself. They'll have either gone to the lowermost or topmost floors – an office of some sort where they can speak discreetly.
In Doranbolt's mind, either location was as likely as the next. He hedged his bets, however, on a higher floor. Where better to oversee everything than from above, after all? Praying his intuition was right, and that he'd not lost valuable time, Doranbolt teleported towards the nearest flight of steps - passing directly through someone making a haphazard descent, who didn't notice at all- and taking the stairs two at a time.
Doranbolt's hearing was specially attuned. It wasn't magic, merely a sort of physical training - one that many mages often. Took for granted. Due to his role as a spy, Doranbolt had trained himself to pick up sounds from a considerably larger distance with active focus, and by concentrating entirely on a noise of interest, he could block out everything else and discern what he was hearing. It wasn't near the level of the Hearing Magic used by Cobra of the Oración Seis, but it served him well. He could pick up two people in a heated discussion just another floor above.
Thrilled by his intuition, Doranbolt proceeded to the next floor, and ducked behind a pillar closest to a door which stood slightly ajar. Clearly, its occupants had made it hear hurriedly.
"—that Max of Fairy Tail stands a head and shoulder above the others," the curt voice of Kaseem reached Doranbolt's ears.
"Indeed," came the quieter voice of who Doranbolt knew to be Ja'far. "If I wanted to be entirely candid, the knight and elf show promise as well." There was a pause in his words, and Doranbolt couldn't tell if the man was thinking, or he'd arrived at a very abrupt end to an interesting conversation. Doranbolt kept even his breathing to a minimum, focusing all his efforts on listening in to Kaseem and Ja'far's conversation. They were discussing Max, as well as his Guild. There was something going on...
"I believe our opinions have been swayed, Lord Vizier," Kaseem said again. "You have seen Max Alors. But the issue with solidifying his candidacy, the compatriots of his Fairy Tail Guild are troublesome folk, as we have discussed. They could prove to only further be a thorn in Our Lady's side, should Max be Chosen. Selecting one of the other two promising Candidates may expedite their departure from our land."
"No," replied Ja'far slowly. "We can use that to our advantage. If we do not select Max, the nosier of the Guild may believe they no longer have anything to be cautious for, should they choose to continue nosing around. However, selecting Max - who is already making a very good impression - would continue to ensure their good behaviour until the proceedings have finished."
"You can't mean to want to keep them here, Lord Vizier?"
"Indeed I do," Doranbolt imagined Ja'far nodding at this statement. "For Her Ladyship's sake, of course. We might find Fairy Tail to be more useful to us present and accounted for. And what better way to ensure their good behaviour than with a glorified hostage?"
"If that's the reason, would it not be more prudent to simply abduct Max?" Kaseem asked as if it were obvious.
"No," Ja'far shot the idea down curtly. "Bashiff has already been to speak with me. If we disrupt the traditional selection process, I do not believe even words will keep him amicable."
"If Bashiff is a problem, I can—"
"Will it not be a larger problem if someone as prominent as he goes missing?" hissed Ja'far. "Kaseem, as admirable as I find your bloodlust, it is to be tempered. I did not reach my position by simply spilling blood!"
Kaseem fell silent at this. He was a man of action, as opposed to deliberation; simply waiting did not suit him. Simultaneously, he did not want to cross Ja'far. Every survival instinct told him it was a mistake, and thus he cowed to his superior's admonishing. "Then what do you propose?"
Ja'far smiled wryly. "Firstly, we'll handle the beetle on the wall."
At this, Donranbolt gasped. A presence suddenly became clear to him, and the Fairy Tail mage spun around. It was too late, however. There was a dull thud. And Donranbolt's vision went black.
The Prince Consort Candicacy Selection had concluded. It seemed as if it had taken far longer than it actually had, but the tumult from the Fairy Tail portion of the stands made one thing clear. Their Max Alors had won the selection. He stood in the centre of the stadium, his hand in the air in triumph, and grinning in what he hoped was an impressive way
Wendy, if she had to admit, thought he looked more embarrassed than cool, but was kind enough to never bring this up in the future. She was smiling for him, and cheering with the rest of the Fairy Tail guild.
There was, however, a member of the Guild not whooping and shouting with them. Doranbolt had not returned, and it was because of this that Wendy's cheers, while genuine, were half-hearted.
Where are you? She wondered, scanning the stands for her friend. Doranbolt...!
Macao seemed to have noticed Wendy's preoccupation, and dealt with ot as best he could, cheering even louder for Max. He wondered where Doranbolt was as well, but Wendy had enough to deal with without adding more worries to her plate. Best to appear confident, he thought.
In the Stadium itself, Kuon practically manifested out of blackness next to Max. Her amethyst-hued eyes stared blankly at him. "I did believe you would be the one to win," she said quietly. "Come with me, Max Alors."
"Already?" Max looked questioning. "I'm honestly exhausted, I'd love to get a break in and go relax with my friends."
Kuon shook her head. "This is of the utmost importance. Once a victor is selected, the final judge is to be met immediately." She created a portal out of her and Max's combined shadow, beckoning imperiously. "Please."
Max stole a glance towards his guild mates, still cheering, and looked back at Kuon. Sighing, he followed her into the blackness
It was quiet. No, perhaps that was an inaccurate statement. The silence continued. That was more accurate. She wasn't acquainted, after all, with the hustle and bustle of everyday life. That meant nothing to her now. She turned over in her bed, sheets of finest silk concealing a body from view, despite the absence of any eyes to see it.
The room around her was a surprising mixture of quaint and luxurious. It had enough space that she didn't feel confined, and the bed on which she rested was in the direct centre, replete with velvet cushions, crimson sheets and white veil curtains framing its overhead dark frames. Its body was gold plated, gleaming with its own light. Dotting the walls were ornaments, ornate and handcrafted, with the sole purpose ro be decorative.
It was her sanctuary.
Until a voice broke through the silence. It was crisp, and female. A handmaiden. It so ded through the sole entry and exit of the room.
"Your Majesty! The Selection Process has concluded, and the finalist is being brought to you via Kuon. He will arrive momentarily!"
A rustle of sheets and a yawn was the only reply the handmaiden received, but it appeared to be enough. The coverings fell from the individual's body, revealing the beautiful woman beneath them. She had an oval face, her cheeks full and healthy with a hint of her cheekbones present beneath shimmering green eyes; radiant as they were rare in this part of the world. Her thin brow was framed by ebony locks cut neatly to cover her brow but not touch her eyes, leaving long locks to cover her small ears and drape to her shoulders, the rest of her black tresses lounging on the cushions around, under and beside her like a curtain due to their voluminous thick nature. Her breasts were supple yet pert, large enough to be ogled but not overbearing that the thin black fabric with golden lace was enough to cover the center mass of her bosom while leaving her generous cleavage on full display. A smooth belly of pure near milky textured flesh dipped down with her back back past sensual broad hips and a hint of her supple posterior, her pelvis region covered by similar black silk with golden rings and trimming, her thighs wrapped around in golden snake-shaped bands that her slender forearms possessed. A pair of golden-banded stockings of black with another ring of jeweled gold around the calves covered her smooth toned legs down to the top of her feet, exposing her soles and toes with golden rings wrapped around each digit. Her crown beheld a golden cobra, with several other bestial images laced around her head; each one symbolizing the four guardian beasts of Desierto.
To many, her outfit would seem to not conceal enough. It mattered little to her. She was Queen, after all. What was presentable was what she decided.
"Let me see then," she spoke in a voice like bellchime. "The man who believes he will stand by my side."
A/N:
Demod20: A long time coming. That's what this chapter feels like to me. Did really enjoy what I did write here. Max truly shining as the character of focus, and everyone taking notice. Wonder what Ja'far is up to, and what happened to Doranbolt?! Can't wait to show you what my partner and I have in store for you. Until then, hope you enjoyed this chapter!
LastationLover5: Hey everyone! Sorry for the lull in updates, been busy but trying our best! This arc requires a bit more thought than my usual Dragon Ball fare, so we appreciate your patience! I like that things are picking up: pieces falling into place, and now Doranbolt has gone missing? But I wonder why? And how does the beautiful Queen factor in? My cowriter and I have a lot to share, so we'll see you soon!