A/N: How fitting that this chapter is being published on Father's Day here in the U.S. Here's to Resmond, the least fatherly figure I can imagine!~~~

Chapter 59: Father and Daughter

In the midst of the mayhem, Arturus Excalibur shoved his way to Dreamer and Jezran. "What is the meaning of this?!"

Suddenly, Jezran's hands were on his father's shoulders. His brown eyes were glowering, the kind face now etched with rage.

"Father, you allowed villains into this celebration! Villains who have now captured Syllestra, dear me! Explain yourself!"

"Jezran." Arturus met his eyes, levelly. "If you think for one second that I would allow harm to befall anyone in my Family, then you are sorely mistaken."

"It was Jacque!" Dreamer shouted. "He was using illusions! We have to find her—we have to hurry!" Her screams were bloodcurdling, her eyes retracted to nothing but shaking pupils.

"Yo!" Piper cut through the crowd to them, with a pale face. "It's the snake-bitch! I'd recognize these bastards anywhere! Where's Syllest?"

He looked at Dreamer—at the completely wrecked state she was in, and a weight dropped in his chest. "No, doll… It ain't true."

"EVERYONE! SCOUT THE ESTATE! BRING BACK SYLLESTRA!" Arturus's voice bellowed over the crowd. Suit jackets were all cast to the floor as thugs revealed their true forms. Tattooed men and women with Excalibur crests. Brass knuckles and magical guns. They immediately broke into teams and rushed from the room.

Within moments, they were met with Erik, Gajeel, and Pantherlily.

"Hey, what's going on?" Gajeel said, breathlessly. "We heard Dreamer screamin.'"

Erik gritted his teeth as he listened to the roar of voices in his head. "They have the girl…"

Suddenly, Dreamer had launched herself at Erik. She was clawing at him like a wild animal, landing a scratch on his cheek before Gajeel picked her up by the shoulders.

"YOU!" She was wild. Uncontrollable. "You hear everything! Why didn't you stop them?! You're working for him, aren't you?! You never stopped working for Resmond! I'll kill you!"

Erik stared at her with wide eyes, actually looking frightened.

"Calm down," he snapped. "You've got it all wrong! These guys wear necklaces with those black diamonds on them. There's some kind of dark magic in them that blocks off my hearing, okay? I didn't know about this."

"LIAR!"

Gajeel yanked her hard against his chest, barring her with his strong arms. "Where's Beth, Dreamer?"

"He… I don't know…" She sobbed against Gajeel's arms. "He left me. If he'd been here…"

Gone. Syllestra is gone. He has her. Resmond has her.

She screamed again, flailing uselessly in Gajeel's arms. "We have to find her! Why are we standing here! Pops! Track her! Track her now!"

Jezran was already looking at his pocket watch with a somber expression. "I… I cannot, dear me." He held the watch up for her to see. Somehow, at some point in the night, someone had replaced his magical watch with an almost identical one. The difference was, the inside depicted an image of a laughing snake.

He planned this all perfectly. We were never any match for him. Resmond always wins. There's no escape. No escape. Gone. She's gone.

In a panic, Dreamer bit Gajeel's arm. He cursed out loud and dropped her. In a flash she was running for the exit, tears pouring down her face.

I'll find her! If no one will help me, I'll find her myself! Syllestra, I'll save you!

She had no idea where she was running to. There was no logic, just the wild need to save her niece. Her daughter.

Tears blurred her vision. She tripped, landed painfully on her knees—righted herself. Kept running.

Syllestra. Syllestra. Syllestra.

She collided with something firm. Arms encircled her.

"MOVE! Syllestra! I have to get to Syllestra!"

"Dreamer." His voice was as firm as his hold. Something about it was powerful. Powerful enough to break her spirit.

"Stop," he commanded. "We'll find her. We'll find her together."

"Macbeth…" She sobbed into his shirt. "This is your fault! Y-You left us out there! You were supposed to protect her! You were supposed to be there for us!" She was delirious in her wild screams.

He went rigid. "Enough." He said, loudly. "We will never find her unless you control your emotions, Dream. Look at me!"

She did. Caught immediately in swirling red.

"Hate me if you need to," he said, with hard resolve. "Do whatever you need to do, but you must focus. You must get ahold of yourself if you want to get her back."

She swallowed through hyperventilating, and gave a nod. She kept her eyes fixed on his, the only thing steadying her. "Help me, Macbeth."

His expression was serious, eyes never straying away. "Always."

The others caught up—Gajeel with a pissed off expression and a perfect crescent shape of teeth marks in his forearm—Erik looking equally pissed off, with red scratches on his right cheek.

"Erik," Macbeth started. The redhead shook his head before he could even ask the question.

"My Family is searching the perimeter," Jezran said, as he caught his breath.

"Did anyone see where Sânge or Giseld went?"

Piper shook his head. "I never saw Giseld, only her snakes."

Their expressions were grim. Gajeel's nose twitched and he cursed. "I can't pick up a smell with all these other weird scents all around."

"What do we do?" Dreamer looked expectantly at Macbeth. There was fear in his eyes, but also cold determination.

"Pardon me," the black exceed said. "Perhaps, since I'm lower to the ground, I've been able to notice something you haven't." He bent down and picked something up off the floor. He held it up to Dreamer, who took it with trembling fingers.

It was a pink-diamond tear drop.

"She left us a trail to follow," she whispered, in total awe.

"That's our girl!" Piper said, with a fist pump.

"Everyone, follow those diamonds!"

A balloon-shaped man ushered a young girl forward, in an underground tunnel. She was gagged and bound by the wrists. Tears dripped from her chin, twinkling in the torchlight before they hit the earth below. Tiny, pink tears.

"Almost there, girlie," the man said, as they approached an iron door at the end of the tunnel.

Before they had reached it, it opened with a groan. There stood a curvy woman with forest green hair and slits for eyes. She smiled from ear-to-ear at the sight of Syllest, and bared two snake-like fangs.

"Princess!" The woman rushed forward and pulled the girl hard against her bosom, running her sharp nails through her charcoal hair. "At last, my sweet Princess!"

She grabbed Syllest's wrist and tugged her through the doorway. They entered a basement—a storage room loaded with barrels of diamonds, mechanical devices, carts, and boxes. The round man shut and locked the iron door behind them, while Giseld tore the gag from Syllestra's mouth.

"My sweet child…" She lovingly reached for Syllest's cheek, but the girl jerked her head to the side.

"Who are you?!" Her voice quavered. "I want my mom!"

"Careful, Giseld," Jacque warned, with a breathless sigh as he deposited his weight on a box. "She's a feisty one, that kid."

"Syllest," Giseld smiled, eyes delirious. "I am your mom."

Syllestra's eyes widened, but only momentarily. She stepped back, away from the snake-woman. "No! My mom is Dreamer! I want to go back to her! Let me go!"

Giseld's face contorted with fury at the mention of Dreamer. She folded her arms over her breasts and tapped her nails on her forearms in irritation. "That selfish little wench is not your mother. I am your new mother now, princess. You better get used to it."

"NO!" Since her legs were unbound, she ran. She had no idea where to go, or where it would lead, but she made for a set of stairs at the far end of the room. Before she'd reached them, an image flashed in front of her eyes and blocked the way. A man with black and yellow hair, a pointed face, and a long nose now sat on the bottom step.

She skidded to a halt and turned to run in the other direction, only to be caught by the arms. She was picked up and sat roughly on a chair by a beautiful woman with white hair and slanted eyes, dressed in feathers.

"Y-You're Macbeth's friends!" She recognized them, from the short time they'd been at the guild hall, right before Erik moved in. "Tell them to l-let me go! Please!"

Sawyer avoided her eyes. Sorano crossed her arms. In deadpan, she addressed Giseld. "Were they there?"

"Who?" Giseld examined a broken nail with a frown. "Oh, the assassins? Yes, they were there. But my King's plan worked out perfectly! Too perfectly! In fact, your poison-slayer wasn't even in the building, and the transvestite was too busy giving the wench the cold-shoulder to pay attention to anything around him. It couldn't have gone better!"

"H-Hey, Giseld…" Jacque cleared his throat. "Y-You think the King'll forgive me now? You know… for letting her go before?"

The woman scoffed then bared her fangs at him. "You're lucky my King is so merciful! If it were me, I'd have had you slaughtered for losing the princess!"

Syllest pinched her lips together. She sprung from the chair to make another run, first stomping her foot on Sorano's heeled toes.

Sorano hissed in pain.

"Told you so," Jacque pointed out. "Feisty."

She ran behind boxes to hide. I have to be strong… Like Mommy and Macbeth and Romeo. I have to be brave, like a real fairy! I-I'm not scared! I'm not!

She searched desperately for something to sever the ropes on her wrists, while the adults talked casually back in the center of the room, as if they weren't concerned in the slightest about her escaping. She gritted her teeth and cried as she tried to wiggled her hands out of the binding.

"Enough," said a new voice. "You will make yourself bleed if you force it."

"Sânge!" Giseld exclaimed.

A white-haired man had materialized out of a red mist in front of Syllest. He looked down at her with serious, dark-red eyes. The little girl stared up at him, her mouth parted, lips trembling.

"Blood is precious," he continued, gravely. "You should not waste a single drop of it."

Syllest swallowed nervously, then fell to her knees in front of him. "H-Help me, mister!" she cried. "P-Please, I want to go home! I want my m-mommy! I'm scared…"

Sânge's pale lip twitched in a frown. He looked at her with a sad expression.

"Please! Y-You're nice, I know it! You have eyes like Macbeth! So please, please, let me go home! Let me see my mommy! Please!" she sobbed at his feet, petitioning him with everything in her little body.

He kneeled down to her level and held out a gloved hand. "You would like to see your mother again?"

"Yes!" she whimpered and clutched his hand for dear life.

With unfeeling eyes, he said, "So would I."

Syllest screamed at the top of her lungs as Sânge dragged her to the stairs. Sawyer stepped aside to let them pass.

"At last! A family reunion!" Giseld ran to catch up, but the blood dragon-slayer held up a hand to stop her.

"This is none of your concern, Giseld. The King wishes to see his daughter alone."

Giseld pouted as the rejection sunk in. Syllestra's screaming stopped at his words.

Daughter…

She remembered when Dreamer told her the truth about everything. About who this bad man really was.

"NO! NO I DON'T WANT TO MEET HIM! LET ME GO!" She writhed and panicked in Sânge's grip. Sawyer raced to stuff the gag back in her mouth, then helped prod her up the stairs…

To meet her father.

"Here." Jezran pointed at a hatch in the ground, outside the walls of the Excalibur estate. The trail of diamonds led here.

"That tunnel leads to the ruins on the planes to the south of here," his brother—who had come along with them—said.

"Then that is where his base of operations is," Jezran responded.

All along. Resmond had been planning this all along. Operating less than five miles from Jezran's very own estate.

"I will gather the militia and we will surround the ruins," Terrence said. "You should continue to follow the trail underground."

"Be swift, dear me."

The younger brother was gone in a moment.

Gajeel and Erik were prying open the heavy shaft-door. Piper was rolling his dice with a strained expression. And Macbeth's hands were on Dreamer's shoulders, his eyes level with hers.

"You should stay," he said, quietly.

"Are you insane?!" she was still shaking. She hadn't stopped. Not since she realized Syllest was gone.

"Dream." His expression was grim. "If you panic and lose control, he'll kill you."

"I can't leave her, Macbeth." She begged him to understand. "I can't let him have her too."

"I'll bring her back," he said, never once dropping his gaze.

"No! I can't stay behind! I have to be there with her!"

"Doll, Mac's right," Piper walked up while putting his dice back in his pocket. "I hate to break it to you's, but… Our numbers aren't lookin' hot. This ain't luck we can afford to push. You's oughta let us take care of it."

"NO!" she clenched her fists, the tears continuing to flow. "I have to protect her! I have to protect her from him!"

"Doll—"

Macbeth shook his head at Piper. He lifted Dreamer's chin with his fingertips, willing her to look at him again. "Don't leave my side."

She stared wide-eyed, then nodded in determination.

His grip on her chin tightened. "I'm serious, Dream. If you leave my side… I'll make you pay." There was just the tiniest hint of a smirk on his features, despite the gravity of the situation.

Somehow, for some completely irrational reason, she laughed out loud.

"Hey, lovebirds!" Gajeel shouted. "It ain't time to be flirting! We've got ass to kick!" He jumped down into the tunnel.

"Yo! Nobody kill Res until I get a chance to punch 'im square in the jaw a few times!" Piper followed, boots thudding on the ground in the tunnel below.

Dreamer and Macbeth shared one last look, a brief nod, and then they too dropped into the tunnel. Jezran and Pantherlily followed closely behind.

Sânge instructed Sawyer to leave, once they'd made the seemingly endless trek up the spiral stairs to the top of the tower. His grip remained tight on Syllest's hand as he knocked on another metal door.

"Your Majesty," he loudly declared. "I have brought the princess."

There was no answer for a long moment. And then finally… "Come in."

Syllestra was still sobbing, tiny whimpers wracking her body, kept muffled by the cloth jammed in her mouth. Her small form shook violently, as she walked into the room.

There stood Resmond, the King of Diamonds. As tall as Elfman, but sleek and lean. His hair was the same charcoal black as hers, and swept the same way—a waterfall of layered raven feathers. Atop his head was a crown, and his hands were clasped behind his back.

"Hello." He looked at her with shocking yellow eyes. She whimpered and stumbled backward into Sânge.

She recognized this man. He was the shadow in her nightmares. The electric darkness that kept her locked in a cage. He was the monster that Dreamer protected her from, by taking her nightmares away.

His yellow eyes scanned her over, appraising her like a prepared sacrifice, not like the child she was. "You look like me," he pointed out. "Which is a little disappointing."

She quavered under the sound of his voice. It was familiar, like she'd heard it long ago, before a time she could remember.

"I had hoped you would look more like your mother. It's strange that her sister shares a closer resemblance than her own daughter. My genes must be strong." He continued to stare, never once changing his stiff posture. "Sânge, take that thing out of her mouth."

Sânge looked down at Syllestra in an expression of horror. "Your Majesty, I… Do I have to touch it?"

"You have gloves on, don't you?"

Sânge winced, but reluctantly obeyed. He pinched the corner of the gag and pulled it out of her mouth with an expression of disgust. He immediately discarded both the rag, and his glove, into the trashcan by the door.

Now Syllest's whimpering sobs could be heard.

"Are you afraid?" Resmond asked, with a blank expression.

Syllestra couldn't answer. Terror had paralyzed her tongue.

"Will you show me your magic?"

She shook her head, sending tears flinging around her. His gaze drifted to the ground, where a sparkling pink diamond remained. "Sânge."

The blood-dragon slayer blanched, even whiter than his normal skin tone. With his remaining gloved hand, he hesitantly leaned and retrieved a tear, before humbly offering it to his king.

Resmond took the diamond and examined it closely. With one hand, he created an orb of darkness around it—or at least tried to. The diamond sparkled, and the darkness shattered.

"It's pure," he said, in monotone. "That's good." He looked at Syllestra again. "Do you want to see my magic?"

She shook her head, vigorously.

Resmond didn't heed her. He put his hands together and began to craft something out of diamonds, the same way Syllestra would. She stared in terrified awe as he easily created a black-diamond dagger. It had taken her weeks and lots of practice to make the pink one Dreamer had found in her pillow. Resmond did it instantly.

"See?" He held it up for her. "It's cool. But… unfortunately, my diamonds are not pure. Not like yours, Syllestra."

He strode forward, moving for the first real time. She gasped when he was suddenly holding the black blade to her throat. She closed her eyes and whimpered, tears streaking her face.

Sânge looked away, red eyes filled with shame.

"Come look at this with your dad," Resmond ordered, in the least dad-like tone imaginable.

Syllestra stumbled forward, driven by the terror of the cold mineral against her skin. She went to the balcony railing, overlooking the massive diamond structure below.

"You're going to help me break that pesky diamond case," he said. "Do not worry, once we've completed that task, I'll stop threatening you. I promise." He did not drop the blade. "You have a merciful daddy, don't you?"

She cried silently.

"Sânge, catch." Resmond reached in his cloak and threw something to the other man. Sânge caught it, carefully, his eyes gleaming brightly. In his hands was the blood lacrima, pulsing rapidly in sync with his heartbeat. "I recommend inserting it immediately," Resmond said, without looking at him. "It is likely we will have company before long and I would like you to successfully kill Macbeth this time."

"No!" Syllestra cried out, breaking her quivering silence. This seemed to surprise Resmond, who glanced down at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Are you worried about him, Syllestra?"

"Y-You can't hurt M-Macbeth! H-He'll kill you! He's g-gonna come save me! Him and my mommy!" Somehow, this child spoke these words with all the bravery of an adult, despite the blade pressed against her artery.

"Sânge, why are you still standing there?" Resmond kept staring at Syllest. "Remember, you will need to remove your heart to insert the lacrima. Try not to die, please."

"Yes, your Majesty!" Sânge was gone in only a moment, cradling the lacrima to his chest like a precious gift.

"Why do you like Macbeth more than me?" Resmond frowned. "I'm your father."

"No you're not!" Syllestra cried. "You're just… you're just a bad man!"

"Oh…" he gave a long, heavy sigh. "Your mother called me names, too." There was no emotion here. No indicator that the name-calling had upset him—or had any effect on him at all. "Do you scream like her?"

Syllest said nothing, just continued to shake and cry, praying for someone to come in the door and save her. Praying for Macbeth to come and turn into a giant monster and smash this horrible man against the wall.

"I really want to know…" He dropped the blade from her throat then suddenly picked her up by the collar of the ball-gown she still wore. Then, he lifted her legs over the railing and dangled his daughter over the deep tower shaft.

Her scream echoed off diamonds and stones. Blood-curdling. Ear-shattering. Enough to make the slaves all pause below, to look up at the child flailing over the drop.

Resmond closed his eyes in pleasure.

"Just like Rosy."

A/N: I loved all of your reviews for the last chapter, friends! I knew Macbeth was going to break some hearts there during the dance. xD Simana, I liked your guesses as to the battle pairings. You miscalculated though, because Sawyer and Sorano will be involved in this final confrontation. ;)

Development Section

I promised to talk about how I came up with Sânge and Resmond, so it's time I deliver.

Resmond... Oh, Resmond. I have created a number of villains in my time as a writer, but very few have given me as much trouble as The King. I decided early in development that Syllest's father would be the baddie, before I even decided if Syllestra would be Dreamer's daughter by blood. I was drawn to the idea of Syllestra inheriting a dangerous magic, leading her to a life of decisions regarding how she would use that magic, whether for good or evil. So, I needed to create a dangerously powerful and evil father for her.

I threw around a lot of ideas about how to connect Resmond to the Fairy Tail universe. I thought about giving him connections to canon characters, but nothing seemed to work the way I wanted it to. Plus, it felt much more personal, to have a completely original villain, disconnected from all but my other OCs. I wanted his presence in Dreamer and Syllestra's life to be personal, real, tangible. He is *their* villain, not just some universal douchebag. He is the phantom that haunts them, specifically.

The hard part was his personality. Why did he kill Rosy? Did he actually kill her or was he framed? Is he an antihero, not a true villain? Is there redemptive qualities in him? What motivates him? Why does he want to shake the earth and destroy continents?

Honestly, I couldn't answer most of those questions until I was drafting Chapter 51, where he was officially introduced. Let me tell you... I have never had as much difficulty writing a chapter as I did with that. one. stupid. chapter. I wrote, deleted, rewrote, deleted, cried into a coffee mug in the morning, cried into a wine glass at night, set the chapter aside for three days, came back to it... All because I didn't understand Resmond at all. When he spoke, it felt fake. When I made him move, he felt like a puppet. I couldn't wrap my mind around him. I ended up pacing in my room with my eyes closed, trying to put myself in his shoes; trying to imagine what it would be like to be the King of Diamonds.

I'm not sure how it happened, but suddenly I understood where I had been going wrong. I was trying so hard to tack motives onto this character. I was trying so hard to make him feel something, be driven by anger or revenge or lust or anything. And it occurred to me that I couldn't do that with Resmond, because he is the complete antithesis to Dreamer. Everything that she is, he is not. And what is she? She's an emotion mage, deeply empathetic, who feels everything so strongly... The reason I couldn't get Resmond to work for me, was that I was trying to make him have emotions.

He doesn't.

Resmond is a textbook sociopath. Charming, devilishly handsome, but completely unable to experience emotion. A hollow man, who only ever felt a single spark of excitement when he heard his wife scream. He's the type of villain who's supposed to make your skin crawl, because he's mysterious and handsome and you want to understand him so badly, but you can't. He's a decently powerful wizard, sure, but what makes him so dangerous and terrifying isn't his magic, it's his cold, calculating ability to achieve whatever he wants to achieve. Staking his hideout right outside the Pergrande estate? That was an obvious choice. He knew he just had to lure Dreamer to her Excalibur family, which is something he could have done whenever he wanted, really, but that's the beauty and terror of Resmond. He acts whenever it suits him.

You guys will get a better feel for him in this final arc, of course. Hopefully, he has delivered as a worthy, frightening villain in your eyes!