Ch. 04: Cursed

Master Makarov assigned me yet another job that requires long-distance travel. This time is different though—I have Yuki's company. It was short notice, but it'd be stupid to turn it down because of the pay. And it's always good to spend time with her; it'd be a party if Sting and Lector were here with us, just like old times. But better, too, because Lady Minerva would tag along.
We were sent to this strange town among Magnolia's outskirts to take down a notorious bounty hunter/kidnapper. Simple enough. Only problem was that we had no idea where to even start looking. This town wasn't as extensive in land as it should have been, considering how crowded it was. I hate crowds, but luckily once we fought our way out of the sea of people, I was able to narrow down our guy's scent from the cloud of must and sweat. In its entirety, the mission only took about three hours.

"Rogue," Yuki looks toward me on the journey back, "how've you been? You've been losing a lot of weight. Not eating again?"

Frosch flies loops over our heads. "I'm fine." I keep my eyes ahead in my usual manner, hoping she won't see anything I'm not prepared to explain. "I actually had a huge breakfast today. What's with the random question?"

"Well…" she hesitates, "I heard about your mission yesterday."

I run my hand through my hair. "I guess everyone did."

"I'm sorry to hear about that." She shrugs, trying to figure a way to make me feel better. "It could've…no…Just think," she suggests, "you did a great job that no one else could do." I glance at her in utter disbelief, and she shrinks back. "Uh…maybe not that one." I sigh. "Why didn't Master Makarov assign a woman?"

"He said in case of an emergency, he needed someone strong enough physically to be able to get away. He didn't want anything to happen to his children. It's understandable." Listen to me defend my cross-dressing duty. It would be tragic, though, if something terrible were to happen to one of the Fairy Tail maidens, or any of the women from any guild. As confident as I am in their abilities to defend themselves, I hate knowing that women are used that way when they're so much more than a pretty face. "I guess Makarov wanted to make sure to protect all of his children. I respect that."

Yukino looks amused, a sort of smug expression on her face that I can trademark as one of Sting's. I cock an eyebrow. "So, you're the big shot hero now, huh? The macho man who spares women from exploitation by throwing on a dress?"

"Yukino, I swear to God," I growl.

She laughs. "I know, I know. I'm kidding." A lock of hair is folded behind an ear with the delicacy of an angel as she gazes skyward at the setting sun. Orange rays turn her hair silver rather than her natural light shade of blue. "So, what do you think is for dinner? I'm starving."

"I don't know." Dining with others is the last thing on my mind. I'd rather snatch an apple and head up to my room. I'm heading back to Sabertooth soon, after Sting. Yuki said she wanted to stay to hang out with the other women for a bit longer. I'm happy for her.

She yawns. "Well, whatever it is, I know it's gonna hit the spot! Mira's such a great cook!"

"Yeah." I smile a bit; I'm glad she's grown so close to MJ. Yuki needed someone to care about her following what Jiemma did to her. I'm contemplating telling her that, but a persistent pressure grows in my head. Multiple knobs being driven into my temples, the sound of cicadas singing is drowned out by this high-pitched incessant ringing. I rub my eyes with a hand to rid the pressure behind my eyeballs to no avail. When I pull my hand away, my fingertips are stained with black. They're cold. I flinch harder than before, but thankfully, Yuki's ahead and off in another tangent about some festival.

"Wouldn't that be great, Rogue?" She spins around to face me, the orange-gold sun behind her. I hide my hands in closed fists. "What do you think?" I feign a smile and nod, even though whatever it is she's talking about, if it includes me, nothing will go as planned.

##

Tonight brings darkness and silence first. Second is foreboding and cold sweats. I can hear the faint sound of this haunting laughter. The kind I've heard since birth that never leaves the nape of my neck. I snap my head towards it, but I find the noise moving from one side to the other. Surrounding me, closing in on me, and granting relief of space in the entire guild. "Who's there?"

~Rogue…~

"Who's there?!" My voice doesn't carry an inch from my mouth. I get out of bed slowly. The mocking laughter continues. My heart pounds so hard, it hurts my ribs. I can't breathe properly. Sweat trails down my face. I mentioned having heard this horrifying voice since birth—but that never guarantees getting used to it. It always returns, stronger, more persuasive than the previous visit. I leave my room and look down either side of the dark hall.

~What are you doing here, Rogue?~

I step outside and close the door behind my back. "What're you talking about?"

~You fool.~ This voice is sinister, guttural, and every time it speaks even one word, my skin rises. I back up, but it moves behind me. On the other side of the door isn't my room, but an abyss of black mist, twisting and churning. From its center are screams and wails, men and women. Tortured, demented cries. I cover my ears, but my eyes won't tear away from the black hole. ~You shouldn't be here in this waste of a guild. You don't need those pixies. You can't be so naïve as to believe they actually accept you. They know what you can do. They despise you, despise your magic. Can't you see? They're laughing at you for being so weak. But I don't hate you, Rogue.~

"Stop talking." My voice is frail. I feel a gust of dank wind brush against my neck, so I draw back, holding the exposed area.

~You don't need anyone, but me…I'll always be here for you.~

"Stop!" I'm reduced to sitting on the floor, compressing my hands into my head to block out the noise, something I haven't done since I was a child. The voice never fades out. It's everywhere, intertwined with my soul.

~It's okay. Calm down and listen to my voice.~

"No…No…!" Make it stop. Someone make it stop!

~Oh, I see now.~ It cackles. ~ I see…You wish Sting were here right about now, don't you?~

"Sting?" I drop my hands. As long as I know he's got my back, nothing can touch me. Those were my words. Right? I look around to find him, my brother, and find that the entire guild has been drained away. I'm standing alone in consuming darkness. I shiver and bring my hands to my head. I can't bring myself to cover my ears anymore. I can't move.

~That's right. Sting. Oh, but he left you to go home, didn't he?~

He's not here…

~He left you here, alone.~

He's not here…!

~All alone.~

I'm all alone. Where is he? Where is he?! Where is everyone?! My eyes well up when I think of Sting, Yuki, Fro and Lector. Gajeel and Kagura. All turning their backs on me as I collapse to my knees. I'm alone.

~I'll never leave you behind.~

"But—"

~There's only one way to get rid of this feeling of loneliness in your heart. Kill him.~

"No." My heart stops immediately.

~You must. It's your destiny.~

I cover my ears again and put my head to the floor. "Just stop…!"

~Do it! You can't deny it anymore! They're holding you back!~

"Stop it!"

~Can't you see? I'm all you have now. I'm all you've ever had!~

I take off running as fast as I can, but to nowhere. It's all pitch black and it seems I'm just running on to nothingness. It repeats the hit list with that same terrifying voice for what seems like hours. Over and over again. Sting, Yuki, Frosch, Lector, Gajeel, and everyone who dares speak my name. Kill them all. I feel it caving in on me with its disgusting presence on my shoulder. It slams me against the wall, and then shoves me down. Automatically, my claws come out and I stab through it.

Only I didn't stab the shadow. I stab Lucy.

My claws are deep in her side, blood gushing out of the wound, out of her mouth, spilling on my arm. She coughs, I freeze. "Ro-gue," she chokes, "snap…out of it. Rogue." Tears fall from her eyes when she places a clammy hand on my fist. "Please…stop…Wake up…"

I am awake, gaping at her and what I've done. "Lucy…." My mind is racing. Praying, I retract my claws into my knuckles and catch her when she collapses, placing her gingerly on the floor. When I place my hand over her wound to keep the blood in, she lays hers over mine. "Lucy, I—" My mouth runs dry. "I'm so sorry, I—"

"Help…me…"

I swallow my tongue when her eyes shut. "SOMEBODY!" My voice echoes. "SOMEONE, PLEASE HELP!"

In a matter of seconds, lights flicker on and everyone comes running full speed towards us. "What the—?!" Levy cries out, glancing at me then Lucy. "Lucy!" She turns to me, angrily. "Rogue, what'd you do?!" I stare at her, matching her surprise. She sees the blood on my hands and advances towards me. I tense up when she pounds both hands to my chest. "What did you do to her?!"

"Calm down!" Gray holds out his arm in front of her. "We don't know what happened yet!"

Levy's eyes have never looked so bloodthirsty as she fights his hold. "What did you do?! This is how you thank us for our hospitality?! You ungrateful bastard!"

"Levy!" Gray rages, struggling to hold her still. "Calm down, dammit!"

I crawl back again, cowering from the fury of a four-foot-eleven-inch typhoon. "Wendy!" Lisanna calls to the crowd from my right. Wendy comes out hurriedly. "Wendy, can you heal Lucy? You have to hurry!"

She's got tears in her eyes, but she nods and scrambles over, going to work immediately. I stand and back up. Everyone pushes forward to see. I keep backing up when I notice my entire right side starting to stain with black markings. "Shit," I curse, holding my arm. I look up in a panic when I hear Natsu's voice call out to Lucy, demanding to know what happened. In a matter of seconds, he'll be able to sniff me out.

Holding my arm against my stomach, I hurry behind the corner, away from the flickering lantern light and the shaking voices. I hear MJ's voice enter the commotion. She stops, then a soul-crushing scream makes me run further away from everyone. I'm trapped in this position again. I need Sting here. I need my girlfriend. Shame blinds me until I bash my head into my brother's stomach, as I was running with my head down, and land hard on my ass.

"What's going on? What's with all the noise?" Gajeel asks.

He frowns down at me in the darkness, eyes sharp. I remember now why I used to fear him so much as a kid. Uncomfortable, I turn to run away from him. "Sorry—"

He catches the back of my collar. "Where do ya think you're goin', pipsqueak?"

"Gajeel, let go of me," I order, impatiently, daring not to look at him.

He pulls me closer and drops his voice to a hazardous bass. "What'd you do, Ryos?"

"Noth— Something. I don't—"

"Why is Lucy bleeding? Why is everyone screaming?"

"I-I—"

"Why was Levy screaming your name? Dammit, answer the question!"

I land a kick to his head and take off before he even hits the floor. I can feel the black marks slithering up my face in frigid movements, and I pull my shirt to my skin. Hiding. I keep on running and running, desperate to get out of here. I'll apologize to him later for the kick. Not even a minute later I trip over Makarov and land on my face while he's completely unfazed by it.

"Rogue," he sighs over me, "of course it's you. You can't keep running about with your head down and your eyes closed, boy. I'm pretty sure young Master Sting already told you that—"

"I swear, I didn't mean to hurt her!" I panic. He hums in question. "I would never hurt her or anyone!"

"I understand, my boy," he says. "But you see, it's already done."

"Please," I sit on my knees. "You have to help her! I didn't mean to—…I was having a nightmare and it just happened, a-and—" I can't even speak right. I try out a stronger voice, but all that comes out is broken. "I'm so sorry…"

"Come with me." Makarov casually pats my head and leads me down the dark hallway. I look up, watching him walk off. "Get off the floor and follow me. Don't you Sabertooth folk pride yourselves on your strong senses of duty?" I hurry to my feet and fall into step behind him. My heart is still racing. The pressure in my head still disorients me.

"Master Makarov," I begin. "Shouldn't you console your guild? I don't mean to tell you how to do your job, but…"

"Pick up the pace," is my answer. He brings me down to another part of the guild's building and closes the door behind me. "Sit." I do as told and take a seat on the floor without a second thought. He walks over and smacks my leg once. "Cross your legs, boy. Show some manners."

"Sorry," I answer quickly and do so. He walks to the other end of the room and lights candles, one by one, all different colors.

"Shirt off," he orders without turning around.

"What?"

"Shirt. Off."

"What're you going to do?"

"Don't be a prude. Grasp the cloth of your shirt and lift it up until it is off your person."

"I don't know if—"

"Rogue."

I lift my shirt off and put it and my eyes in my lap as he takes and checks out my arm, then the markings on my torso and face. "So…out of curiosity, what are the candles for?"

"They release a spell to make sure everyone upstairs calms down."

"How?"

"Well, nothing special. They just become extremely tired and go to bed."

"And Lucy?"

"She's being taken care of as we speak. Don't blink." He opens my eye with two prying fingers and stares into my pupil. I have no place to be hesitant to his orders after what I did. MJ's scream is still in my head, ringing between both ears. I can't believe I hurt Lucy. She's so kind, and I could've killed her. What if I did kill her?

~Good.~

I flinch and whip my head around. "Rogue." I look at Makarov, whose serious eyes are focused on me.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to move."

"You need to tell me what happened now."

"I hurt Lucy. I mean, bad."

He nods. "Explain. Come on now, aren't you supposed to be a writer? Where's the detail?" As he speaks, he turns his back to me and starts fumbling at the cabinet. The clings and clanks of hollow glass and corks popping dance around in the room. It reeks of spice and dirt.

"I was having a nightmare. I'm a sleepwalker, so I guess I…I thought—…I had no idea she was there at all. I thought something was coming after me, but I didn't realize it wasn't real until it was too late."

He stirs something together and turns back to me with a small, ebony mortar, complemented with a matching pestle. "Hm…"

I stare at the contents when he stands in front of me, takes one of my arms, and starts smoothing the cold mucus-like gel over the tatted skin. "Master Makarov, please tell me she's okay. Did Wendy heal her in time? Please, say something!" He hums and rubs the stuff into my skin. It spreads easily and gathers in bundles where my skin rejects any more of it. After some time, I feel my shoulders hunch as he moves to my other arm. "You're not saying anything."

"Calm down." Makarov looks cautiously at the shadows climbing the wall. "Don't panic. You'll bury the entire town in shadows."

I avert my eyes to my lap. "I didn't mean to hurt her." A sharp chill rattles me when the mucous stuff is paved over my back and chest. I lift my arms as he descends to get the rest of my body. "Whoa! Hang on—"

"Don't get defensive, now. Keep in mind, I'm a father and a grandfather. Relax."

"Yeah, but with all due respect, I was raised by a dragon."

"Indeed you were." His gray eyebrows furrow, inspecting the marks staining my body. "You've opened your Drive in your sleep, huh?" The mortar is placed back on the table.

"Uh, yeah," I say, turning my arms over.

"Try to calm your mind. Focus." He crosses his arms. "Find a better state of mind and then try to close it again. I'm no expert on dragon-slaying magic, but I know enough. Give it a shot." I close my eyes and try to calm down. In my head is some thick barrier—a stubborn wall—that's blocking my ability to grab ahold of my focus. The ground under me is rumbling, but when I open my eyes, not even a pebble has moved. Makarov waves a hand before my face to get me to close my eyes again. It takes another five minutes for my Drive to draw a close. "See, you didn't need me to do that."

He gives me too much credit. "Can I ask what it is you put on my body?"

Makarov hums, "A topical lacrima used to…tamper down a person's magic energy. A downer. I'm not quite sure if it works as strongly for dragon-slayers, but hopefully it should help you get some quiet tonight."

"Thank you," I answer quickly.

"Don't panic and use your magic. It's not a pretty thing, for anyone."

His voice spells it out clearly: especially your kind of dragon-slaying magic. Anger has no place in my mood. He's completely right. So, I nod. "You never answered my question," I push for an answer. "Is Lucy okay?"

"Demanding today, I see."

"I'm sorry, I—"

"I'm just pulling your leg. She's resting." He nudges my arm. "Wendy is very talented. Give your dragon sister some credit."

He's right. I need to remember my faith in her. Relief washes through me, pulling away the fear and panic to drip on the floor with my sweat. A small smile forms on my face—one of thankfulness that fades away once shame kicks in. "You won't have to worry about me hurting anyone else. I'm leaving as soon as the sun comes up."

"Actually," I stare at him, cursing his words before they leave his throat. "You have to stay."

"What?"

"You are a third-generation dragon-slayer from another guild. No one has ever heard of a third-generation before you and Sting. You must stay and face court," he explains. The temperature of the room drops. He reads the obvious why on my face, sees the trepidation in my widened eyes, and studies the upbeat of my breathing patterns as that same panic returns. "All the commotion attracted the authorities. I told Laxus to fend them off for the night."

"O-oh…" What am I going to do?

Makarov sighs heavily. "You're surprised?"

"No, not really." If I have to present myself in court, there's no way this can turn out in my favor. I'm a slayer, I sure as hell can't afford a lawyer, and all the proof is evident in the blood on my hands. Owing it to my list of sins, I probably won't be granted the luxury of a legitimate trial.

I bury my face in my hands and when I look up, Makarov's staring at me, serious and stern. "You need to be present in court, son. Immediately. Trust me, I really wish I could deny this, but it's—"

"No."

"You're not listening. You need to."

"No."

"Rogue, listen." He grabs my shoulders, then lets go. "I know you're not a bad person, but you need to show that to the higher-ups."

"No," I decline, "no, they'll kill me." My voice catches, so I take a moment and recollect my thoughts and emotions. "I can't…die like that." There's only one person whose hand I'll gladly die by. There's only one way I will accept dying—least in their eyes. "I know you've read the Act."

"I don't know what the outcome will be, to tell you the truth." I'm listening to his words, but I'm not grasping them the way he needs me to. "Look at it this way. If you run, you'd be pleading guilty, but unwilling to compromise, and that's when you'd be executed on sight. If you plead guilty and show up, you may be spared for coming forth as a man."

I sigh. "The law sees me as an item of mass genocide and catastrophic disaster." And it's not far from the truth.

"Prove that you're human enough to realize your wrongdoing."

"What if they order my execution?" I predict his next choice of words to be: then you'll see that even guildmasters can be wrong.

Makarov sees this on my face and shakes his head. "Chances are, they won't. You've kept a clean slate so far, right?" I look anywhere but in his eyes. "And you're Sabertooth's guildmaster's right-hand-man." I gulp because my slate has been everything but clean, stained with the blood of thousands of people. I gulp because against the court, the Magic Council, even Sting is powerless. "Rogue," I jump with a start at his voice cutting the dense air. "You're zoning out again. Be verbal."

"Um, I…" I stutter. "I was just thinking about Lucy." The gel on my skin activates, like a crisp breeze rushes through every pore and bursts with a wintry reminder of my sin tonight.

"She'll be fine." I hold my silence for a long time, letting it float through the guild. Maybe he's right, but I just can't shake the thought of what I just did. "Go back to your room," he orders. "Don't take it the wrong way, but it would be better to lock your door."

"Sure," I say, doubtfully. "I'll do it." A locked door has never held back a dragon. But if it gives everyone a peaceful state of mind, then that's what I'll gladly do. "Master Makarov, I should thank you for the kindness you've shown me. You're very thoughtful, and it reflects on your guild. I don't know what would've happened if you didn't help me." I bow my head. "So thank you."

Makarov pats my head. "Don't you worry about that. You and your guild are family now. You ever need anything, you come right back here to your favorite grandpa!" I smile and nod.

"Thank you so much."

He smiles. "Get some rest."

As I take my leave after dressing, Laxus is right outside the secret room. Arms crossed and waiting for me. He stands in my way and doesn't move. I roll my eyes up to him. "You're lucky Gramps's here." He leans in close to my face enough that I can smell what he had for dinner. "I don't give a damn if you're special. You're just another kid trying to play dragon-slayer. Sorry the load's too much, shorty."

Because there's nothing I can say, because I have no right to say anything back, I brush past him mid-sentence, not stopping to listen to his rant. The words smack me upside the head, but I keep walking. One thing I learned from being bullied is that you can't give them the satisfaction of seeing that they got to you. I'm not afraid of him. He's more annoying than scary. He should be the one making distance. Dragon-slayers in general aren't monsters; the monster is the one who can't control his birth-magic. My hands shake in hard spasms, so I tuck them close to my stomach and cross them tightly as if to conceal the torrents of darkness. Walking in the dark sends shivers up my spine, gripping me whole. When I muster enough courage to raise my eyes, I can see my shadow's menacing grin. I don't know what's scarier—the shadow or the fact that I can gaze straight into its eyes and see my own manifestation. Thoughts like these are what draw me nearer to my death date.

When I catch notice of my reflection, I see the black markings spreading up my face again. I run through the corridors and don't stop until I reach my guest room and cuff myself to the bed.