A/N: This took way longer than it should have, but hey, it's here. Enjoy
Chapter 1
Haunted and Hopeful in the Rain
Everything had gone grey and still. The trees had frozen in the breeze, the flowers caught themselves in mid-bloom. She alone moved, and she alone had color. The grey sealed the dew in place on the grass, and her footsteps didn't disturb it. She didn't disturb anything. She merely passed through, like a wraith.
She was in this damned graveyard. Her heart thudded painfully, and her breath hitched. She walked towards the grave, like she did every month. It was supposed to be raining, she noticed; but the rain drops hung suspended in the air. She was wearing a sundress, an obnoxiously orange one she only wore in the heat of the summer. Goosebumps ran along her exposed shoulders. She was there before she knew it.
Lisanna Strauss
The sight of the grave never failed to bring some hot tears into her eyes. A bundle of roses was in her hands all of the sudden. She dropped them on the grave, then felt her knees give out. The two years of grief seemed to hit her all at once, and she was sobbing like a little girl for her mother.
Her stomach ached terribly, and she felt like she'd be sick. But through her tears, she could see a strange pink glow. It grew brighter and brighter, until she had to stumble backwards.
It was the roses.
As she watched in disbelief, the roses grew and grew. Eventually they formed a humanoid shape. Now the glow was dying, and she could see what had taken the place of the roses; peach colored skin, big blue eyes, and short white hair. The glow had gone, but she still was squinting. It couldn't..it couldn't..
"Mira?"
But it was. Mirajane Strauss was looking up into the eyes of her dead sister, Lisanna. Instantly, the color came back to the world, as did the motion. The rain came pouring down as Mirajane surged to her feet and embraced Lisanna. For what seemed like forever, she cried into her sister's hair, while Lisanna whispered to her that it was going to be alright. Of course it was, now that she was back.
Then rain stopped, and the cemetery faded into a huge field. The sun was setting, shading reds and oranges and purples into the sky. Grass tickled their ankles, and Mirajane found herself giggling, then doubled over with laughter.
"What so funny Mira?" Lisanna asked, a smile of her own painting her face. Mirajane grabbed Lisanna's hands, and spun her around.
"I'm just so happy, Lisanna," she said, taking off at a run into the field. Lisanna followed her, laughing too. Mirajane felt so light. The grass was cool against her bare feet and the air was warm, and embracingly humid. Everything about Lisanna's death, the guilt, the grief all of it had disappeared. If she ran any faster, she thought, she might start flying.
"Mira!"
Mirajane was so caught up in her euphoria she barely heard the strangled shout.
"Mira, help me!"
She stopped running. Mirajane's heart began to clench. Then it thudded so loud it sounded like thunder tearing from her chest. She didn't need to turn around to know what she'd see. But still she whirled around, and was struck by a wave of nausea. Again. It was happening again.
The beast was huge, as big as a building, and held Lisanna in one of its boulder sized fists. And then Lisanna screamed out. Mirajane could feel her pain, like she too was being crushed. Something white hot exploded inside her. Her eyes shone with fierce determination and her signature dark magic. No, she wouldn't let this happen. Not again.
Satan Sou…"
But the words wouldn't come.
Her magic dried up as quickly as it came. Where her burning anger had resided, icy despair took its place. The color was slowly draining out of everything, and the world was freezing again. Only this time, Mirajane too was caught up in it. She sunk to her knees, grey tears of frustration frozen on her cheeks. The cold was setting in as her world itself became paralyzed. She could only watch as Lisanna struggled.
She could only watch as her sister died.
Again.
"Mirajane!"
"Mirajane!"
Mirajane's senses all came back to her at once, all with information that competed for her attention; the steady mechanical noise of the train; the smell of something freshly baked; an hollow aching in her bum from the lumpy seats; the bitter taste in her mouth from whatever she'd eaten for breakfast; a woman with red hair and a chocolate brown eye staring intently at her. Erza Scarlett.
"She wants to know if you want anything from the trolley," Erza was looking at her strangely.
Mirajane looked up and found a middle aged woman in a grey uniform smiling apologetically at her. Behind her was a trolley full of delicious looking pastries, but the smell was quickly becoming smothering; it filled the small booth and assaulted her rather than enticed her. Mirajane found her appetite waning.
"I don't think I want anything right now," Mirajane said, giving the best smile she could muster at the time, "But thank you anyway."
"Okay, dearie," the woman smiled back at her and Erza, then pushed her trolley on down to the next car. The door to their booth shut softly.
Mirajane sighed and rested her forehead against the cool glass of the window. The sky was a bleak gray that promised rain at any time. It was just past sunrise, but the sun was completely train was racing through Fiore's countryside, a league or two in from the coast. They were heading south, if Mirajane remembered correctly. Here, in the tail end of spring, everything was green and alive, and the petals of blooming flowers still drifted in the wind.
The strangely ominous beauty of the day almost distracted her from Erza's piercing glare. She didn't need to look to know that the scarlet haired woman would be trying to burn a hole in the back of her skull.
"Mira," Erza's voice was softer than Mirajane had thought it would be. She turned and faced Erza; her brown eyes were smudgy with concern, and she leaned across the booth to put her hand on Mirajane's knee, "Are you all right? Nervous about the job?"
"No, I'm not worried about the job at all," Truth. Catching some gang lord in some big city didn't scare her in the slightest.
"I'm just a little tired," Another truth. She was exhausted, far too tired to fall asleep.
"I'm fine, Erza." Lie. She wasn't fine, but it wasn't anything she couldn't handle. Maybe if she could get a good night's rest…
"You don't need to do this job, you know," Erza continued, "Nobody wants to see you hurting, Mira."
"Aren't you the one who talked me into doing this, Erza?" Mirajane gave a small, teasing smile. A real one, this time.
Erza's smile was a little guilty, and Mirajane almost felt bad for saying it. She knew, Erza knew, everyone in the guild knew she was going through a phase, and it bothered them to see the normally cheery, delightful Mirajane staring off into space, forgetting to smile, and drooping behind the counter.
Going on a quest, of course, was the standard Fairy Tail cure all.
Mirajane had hardly been surprised when Erza had asked her to accompany her, Natsu (and Happy), Gray and Lucy on one of their quests. No matter how easy this quest was, Team Natsu was sure to make it an adventure to remember.
Maybe Mirajane needed some adventure in her life.
As though summoned by Mirajane's thoughts, Lucy ripped open the door to their booth, her hair disheveled and a frantic look in her brown eyes.
"Erza, I just woke up and Natsu and Gray aren't in the booth," Lucy said, then paused to gain her breath and three distinct thumps sounded above their heads, "I think they might be fighting on the roof."
"Those fools," Erza muttered, "I'll be back Mira, after I teach those two idiots a lesson."
"Be careful," Mirajane said, but Erza and Lucy were already gone. She smiled to herself, and rested her head against the window again. She found her eyes drooping shut, but this time when she dreamed, she dreamed of a knight in shining white armor rescuing her in the middle of a rainswept battlefield.
Caerleon City
(Central District)
Once a refuge of playwrights and other artists, a corporate minded group called Artisan took the small roadside town and turned it into the industrial capital of Fiore. More than 20% of all magical devices are made here each year. There is a huge disparity between the upper and working classes. The Central District is home to Artisan headquarters and many other tourist attractions.
The rain still hadn't come when they arrived in Caerleon City, but the clouds had gotten darker, and even at midday, the sun couldn't pierce them. But the train station was huge, and lit by similarly huge clinical magical lights. The walls were painted in rich blues, accented with gold and with soft orange magic flames. There were various vendors all around the place selling wares for traveling mages.
This whole train system (and most other businesses in Caerleon) were run by Artisan, one of three corporate giants that dominated the magical world in terms of commerce. Their client was the regional manager, Ellis Vanunu.
"He's supposed to meet us here at the station, right?" Lucy asked, pulling at her little white jacket .
"That's what he said." Erza responded. Lucy, Mirajane and Erza were sitting on a bench on the perimeter of the station, waiting for Ellis Vanunu to show up. The thickness of the crowd rose and fell with the coming of each train, like heartbeat. There were mages and businessmen; artists and workers. Mirajane thought this city was the opposite of Magnolia.
In Magnolia, everyone moved slowly, because there just wasn't any hurry. To a shop to buy some fish here, to browse some wares somewhere else. Here, everyone needed to be somewhere five minutes ago. Even the guild mages seemed to infected by the industry.
Where everyone was in such a hurry, Mirajane found herself annoyed that their client would be late.
"Lucy!"
The shout came from none other than Natsu Dragneel, with Gray Fullbuster and Happy in tow. Everyone within a fifteen foot radius stared at them as they made their way over to the bench. Mirajane sighed and covered her face with a hand; all of them stood out far too much.
"Lucy, Lucy," Natsu said, over and over, doing a little dance once he reached the three girls.
"Lucy!" Happy echoed.
"What Natsu?" Lucy snapped, her cheeks quickly turning red, "And can you please quiet down. Everyone is staring at us!"
"Look here what I found at one of the stalls," Natsu said, reaching around in his pocket, "Now where did I put it…"
"You put it into your pocket didn't you?" Happy said, sitting down on Lucy's lap, "Or you might have put in in your bag."
Erza looked quizzically at Gray, who simply shrugged, "It's actually pretty impressive, if flame-brain can find it."
"What is it?" Mirajane asked, wondering what they could have possibly found in the ten minutes since they'd gotten off the train.
"It's…ah.." Gray scratched the back of his head, "It kind of hard to explain. It sort of li-"
"FOUND IT!"
Once again, the attention of everyone in the station was drawn to Natsu's shout. Gray rolled his eyes, "I guess he'll show you now."
In Natsu's hand was a dark purple orb. Inside, a strange smoky substance orbited a small crimson ring in the center of the orb. The orb radiated a strange light, and cast strange shadows on Natsu's face.
"I found this at that stall over there," Natsu said, the orb making his face seem oddly evil, "The guy said that it used to be…"
He held the orb around so everyone could see it. The sphere seemed evil and Natsu grinned, looking so much like a villain.
"…a demon's EYE!" he finished, throwing his head back and cackling, for the third time, making everyone in the room turn to stare at their group.
"Natsu, quiet the hell down," Gray hissed slapping a hand over Natsu's mouth, "We're not at the guild anymore, you've gotta turn it down and—OW!"
Natsu had bitten Gray's hand. Hard.
"Are you crazy?" Gray cried, cradling his hand, "You fucking bonfire-breathing bastard, my hand is bleeding!"
"Yeah well you shouldn't have put it over my mouth, then," Natsu responded, waving a dismissive hand at Gray.
Meanwhile, Erza had a small frown. Something was bothering her about the current situation, besides the fact that Gray and Natsu were about to fight. No, no, it was something small, but important; something they usually didn't think about on missions…
"Do you want to say that agai—"
"Natsu, where'd you say you got that orb?" Erza asked, running right over Gray's challenge. She folded her arms and crossed her legs, and closed her eyes. Everyone in the group gulped. Even Mirajane felt the danger that Erza was promising.
"Umm I got it at," maybe Natsu realized he was navigating into dangerous waters, because his from there he continued with clear fear, "one of the stalls."
"That means you had to pay for it," Erza still hadn't opened her eyes, and Natsu tried to say something but it came out as a croak, "How much did it cost, Natsu?"
Everyone's eyes were now on Natsu. The dragon slayer gave a small, sheepish smile, and said in a tiny voice, "It was 499 jewels."
Mirajane looked at Lucy. The celestial key mage just shook her head and put a finger to her lips.
"We shouldn't get involved," Lucy whispered, "This isn't going to end well…"
"The guild gave us 500 jewels for this mission," Erza said calm at first, but in a second she was on her feet and holding Natsu and Gray off the ground by their collars, "We now have ONE JEWEL to finish our mission."
"This is all your fault, flame-brain," Gray murmured.
"You're the one who pointed the thing out, numb-nuts," Natsu shot back.
"Yeah but you—OW!"
Erza slammed both of their heads together, "One of you should have had the common sense to realize what you were doing. Honestly, both of you are such idiots. I should just take your—"
"You are Fairy Tail, I presume?"
The brawl that was about to break out froze in the wake of the comment. It was spoken by a man no taller than four feet. His skin had a fake bronze and was taut across his jaw and forehead, pressed for any and all wrinkles. His hair was a chemical blonde, but his brows were brown; all his hair, from his little beard to his sideburns was trimmed so that not even a hair was out of place.
Mirajane thought he looked rather…plastic.
"Of course you are, who else could you be," His blank, gray brown eyes regarded them from over a pair of false glasses. He looked at each one of them with the same look of trying to solve a problem, his gaze lingering for a second longer on Mirajane. Finally with a sigh he straightened his charcoal suit, and made sure his navy tie was oriented.
"I am Ellis Vanunu," he said, giving a stiff little bow, "I am your client, and If you'll follow me, we can begin to debrief you on what it is I want done."
And with that, he checked his little pocket watch and began to stride off into the sea of people, not even looking back to see if they were following him. Erza was the first to react, dropping Natsu and Gray and rushing after their client.
"Hurry up, or we'll lose him," she called over her shoulder.
Mirajane stood, as did Lucy. Natsu and Gray were still breathless on their knees, thanking whatever entity that was out there for the sudden intervention. Lucy had to get them on their way with a little push. Eventually, Team Natsu plus Mirajane made their way to to the huge revolving doors that led out into Caerleon City. Ellis Vanunu was waiting for them.
"This way, please."
Stepping out into the city was like stepping into a wind tunnel; the storm that had been forming was coming to a head; the sky was now dark grey marbled with black and the wind whipped through the huge buildings of Caerleon with a vicious howl. The wind had also chilled the air, putting a little bite into the spring weather. But for how bad this storm was shaping up to be, there was still no rain, Mirajane noticed.
"We have a car waiting for us just ahead," Ellis Vanunu shouted over the wind, and pointed to a large all black magic car with tinted windows parked across the street. With the tiny man in the lead, their group ran across the street during a stoppage in traffic. Ellis Vanunu slid door to the magic car open and held it so they all could clamber into the passenger section.
Inside the car, there were two rows of seats that faced each other. Mirajane settled into the ruby colored upholstery, relieved at how soft it was. It was heaven compared to the lumpy seats of the train. Lucy settled in next to her, and then Natsu next to Lucy. Gray and Erza sat across from them. Finally Ellis stepped inside and sat down, shutting the car door.
Immediately the roar of the wind and the sounds of the city were cut off, and replaced by the low purr of the engine.
"We're off," Ellis Vanunu said through a small window to the driver. As soon as the car began to pull out, he hit a glowing blue button and a sheet of plexiglass slid into the window, cutting them off from the driver.
"Why'd you do that?" Gray asked, throwing a puzzled look at their client.
"Confidentiality, Mr. Fullbuster," the man said, removing a folder from his coat. He flipped through its contents with mechanical precision as he continued, "Artisan operates on a need to know basis. That way, should any information we have prove to be…dangerous, a good driver like Mr. Stephenson here won't suffer the consequences."
That was plausible, and certainly good hearted of him. Something bothered Mirajane about the way he paused before he said dangerous.
The explanation almost made Gray forget what he was about to say, "Wait, how do you know my name?"
"You, all of you, are prominent members of a prominent guild," Ellis Vanunu responded smoothly, still sorting through his folder of papers, "It would be more surprising if I didn't know who you all were."
Finished with his folder, their employer set it down on his lap. They felt the car round a corner, and the dulled noises of the city began to grow louder. Sirens rang, and the wind was picking up. Ellis Vanunu folded his hands over the folder and sighed.
"Besides I make it a point of knowing who I employ for any job that requires any semblance of competence."
Then he handed out the papers to each one of them, looking each one of them in the eyes as he did so. They immediately began to flip through it, skimming the pages for vital information. It was When he reached Mirajane, he only had one packet left.
"You are not a usual member of Team Natsu, Mirajane Strauss," Ellis Vanunu gave her a guardedly curious look, "So I'll have to give you the original file. I was supposed to hang onto this, but I guess if you're successful it won't matter."
The packet he handed Mirajane began with a single full page picture of a man in a hooded cloak and a blank white mask. He could have been any age, or any race; every inch of his skin was covered. He was standing on a platform, looking out into a sea of people, his right hand raised and three fingers extended. Some in the crowd were responding to his salute in kind.
"This man is called the Ghost," Ellis Vanunu said, calling them all to attention, "He is the leader of a crime syndicate called Spectre, which has been stealing from Artisan for nearly fifty years. They are a group of murderers and thieves, who used to run a racketeering operation that encompassed the entire city of Caerleon. My predecessor managed to set them back monumentally, and they shrank to irrelevance. Now they are back on the rise, with ambitions to reclaim their former glory. I intend to crush those ambitions."
Mirajane listened as she flipped through the pages. The next one was a attempted profile of the Ghost; attempted because whoever put this together knew next to nothing about him. His gender and position in Spectre were about all they knew for certain.
"So you want us to get the Ghost?" Natsu asked, his packet discarded at his feet.
"Yes, but its not that simple," their client picked up Natsu's packet and pointed him to a relevant page, "You'll have to find the Ghost first. The only photographs we have of him were taken during rallies on the south side. That's where we suspect his base of operations is, since Specre nearly controls that whole section of the city but we have no way of knowing where it is exactly. But if we do manage to catch him, it will set Spectre back indefinitely, not to mention send a message."
"So it's a wild goose chase, essentially," Erza said, frowning at her packet, then at Ellis Vanunu, "How can we do what a company with resources like Artisan can't?"
"Well, I've heard Fairy Tail has an unorthodox approach to missions," their client tried to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace, as though their 'unorthodox approach' wouldn't be as much of a boon as he thought it would be, "And you have surprise on your side. Artisan has sent a few agents undercover to infiltrate Spectre, but they have an uncanny ability to spot them. Our thinking is that you Fairy Tail mages won't show up on their radar, or if you do, it won't be in connection with Artisan."
"So can you clarify what exactly it is we're doing, please?" Lucy asked apologetically. A lapse in her attention had gotten her completely lost in the conversation.
"Your mission is to determine the location of the Ghost and either capture him, or relay his location to an Artisan agent. To do this, you'll have to go to the south side. From there it's really up to you how to proceed, but you cannot mention any connection to Artisan, or you won't get anywhere close to the Ghost."
"How should we begin our search? Finding members of Spectre?" Erza too had put her packet away, "And we'll need some gold since we somehow managed to spend almost all of ours."
Natsu and Gray tried not to react to the jab, but both of their knees started shaking.
"Of course, money is not a question," Ellis Vanunu sighed as he looked out the window, then checked his pocket watch, "And on the mater of finding members of Spectre…"
He took Erza's packet off the floor and turned near the back. There was a series of photographs of a huge brute of a man. He pointed to one side profile of the man's head. Above his ear three thick black lines were tattooed into his skin.
"…you see these three marks? All members of Spectre have this tattooed on their body, usually someplace visible, but easily hidden. Ah, it seems we've arrived."
They had arrived at a small, run down looking building, squashed between two gigantic complexes. It was made of brick and mortar, unlike the A glowing sign that 'Artisan' hung over the doorway. In this part of town, practically no one was on the streets; the only ones moving about were people in lab coats and business suits.
"If you need anything else, look in your packets. Go inside that building and our agent there will give your gold and further instructions," Ellis Vanunu looked at them all, and seemed to be in his head working out their chances of success, "I expect to hear word back from you in a week. If you haven't made progress by then, I advise you to give up."
"That Ellis Vanunu guy was such a prick," Natsu loudly complained as they waited in the small brick building, "and his hair was way too spiky."
Lucy nodded her head in agreement and the two began to go on a tirade of the prickliness of Ellis Vanunu, while Happy proceeded to eat some (all) of the snacks Natsu had packed in his bag. Gray and Erza were looking more in depth at the packet on the Ghost, discussing at length how they planned to go about the mission.
Mirajane sat by herself.
This was what Mirajane had been afraid of; she was just an accessory to Team Natsu. Everyone at Fairy Tail were good friends with everyone else, but it was only natural that more closely knit circles would emerge. The Raijinshu, Team Shadow Gear, they were all the best of friends. They had a certain chemistry that made Mirajane a little envious.
Come to think of it, Mirajane hadn't ever really been terribly close with her peers; back when she was active, she only went on missions with her siblings. Maybe it was because she hadn't really known quite how to make friends back then.
"I need to get my mind off this," Mirajane whispered to herself, turning her attention to the room they were in.
When they entered the door, Mirajane had half expected to see some unfittingly advanced, metallic building, that went stories underground, and bellied the outer appearance of the building. Instead, it was a fitting small, and musty room, with a series of chairs in a waiting room and a curtained doorway that led on to who-knows-where.
Mirajane sat in the middle of the room, Gray and Erza in one of the corners, and Natsu, Lucy and Happy at the room's only window. Maybe she preferred to be alone, Mirajane thought for a second, but immediately dismissed the thought. This feeling wasn't something she liked, but something of an unplaceable ache that told her something was wrong.
Even after she changed, her kindness hadn't solved anything. She felt closer to everyone, but the ache persisted; she still hadn't gotten what she wanted. That Mirajane supposed was part of the problem; what did she want? For the longest time she thought it was to have Lisanna back, but now she was back, and Mirajane felt even worse.
"Mira?"
The voice snapped Mirajane back to her surrounding. It was Erza, now seated next to her. Gray had gone over to join Lucy and Natsu's rant on their client.
"There's something wrong," Erza stated simply. It wasn't a question.
"Yes," Mirajane replied hesitantly, unable to meet Erza's gaze, "there is."
Erza nodded, continuing carefully.
"But you don't want to talk about it."
"It's n—"
"And you don't have to want to," Erza plowed right through Mirajane's sentence, "Just let me say something Mira."
Mirajane dutifully closed her mouth and was silent. Erza searched her eyes with a strange sort of plea.
"I'm not going to claim that I understand what you're going through, but I've lost someone close to me, too," Erza looked away for a second and she seemed to be in another place, "and even after I came to terms with it, I didn't really know what to do with myself."
Mirajane nodded Erza frowned, as though scrambling to find a way to phrase her thoughts. Finally, her expression cleared, and she gave Mirajane a strange look; her eyes held so much hope, not just for Mirajane, but also for herself, and it drew Mirajane in. Now she was awaiting Erza's next sentence with something close to rapture.
"You just need to live a little."
"Live…" Mirajane repeated, her blue eyes wide and her mouth open. Something about that had stirred her. Something about that simple sentence and left her completely stricken. She didn't even notice the movement in the room and Erza getting up. She must've looked like a fool sitting there, staring into space.
You just need to live a little…
With that sentence still spinning around in her head, Mirajane turned to see why everyone was gathering.
"Y'all the next set of wizards?" the new, coarse voice rang throughout the small room, almost visibly disturbing the dust. The owner of the voice was a large, similarly coarse woman. Her bleached hair was dreaded and drawn back into a massive ponytail. Her pale features were drawn into a heavily wrinkled frown as she looked down on the Fairy Tail mages.
"Merlin, you wizard types just get younger and younger," she shook her head, then disappeared into the back room. When she came back she was holding a large bin of clothes. As the Fairy Tail mages gathered around the table she began to lay them out on the table.
"Name's Hilda," the woman had a strange canter to her voice that was slightly exotic, and pulsated around her words like the tides, "I'll be outfitting you for your silly little mission."
"Outfitting?" Natsu asked, eyeing a khaki vest with suspicion, "What do we need outfitting for?"
The woman gave a laugh at this and shook her head. She was still unpacking clothes. Her hands we large and looked rough, but her fingers move the clothes with incredible dexterity. She folded them with a preciseness and efficiency that only a mother could have.
"You need to be outfitted because you can't go around the south side of Caerleon looking like mages. Especially if you want to go undercover," she shook her head again, "One of you is wearing armor for Merlin's sake."
Mirajane was a bit disappointed, because she rather liked her red dress. Everyone else was taking it a little worse, Mirajane noted. Erza blushed, and brushed at her armor, like it was there against her will. Gray picked at his coat too, and Lucy was glowering at her jacket. Natsu, however, was enflamed.
"What's wrong with our clothes, huh?" Natsu rewrapped his scarf closer around his neck, and crossed his arms.
Hilda's eyes softened, and she for a moment the sadness in her eyes met her age, "I'm not saying that, wizard boy, I'm only saying you look like you're not from around here, that's all."
Natsu de-huffed at this, and almost seemed embarrassed. He scratched at his cheek, murmuring an apology.
"There's are changing rooms in the back. If you need help with fitting, come talk to me."
She had emptied the bin, and placed it on the ground. Now splayed out on the table was an entire wardrobe of blacks, purples and everything in between. With that, she went over to a corner of the room by the window, sat down in one of the chairs and proceeded to light a pipe.
Mirajane instantly saw an outfit that called out to her. She snatched it off the tabletop and threw a smile over her shoulder as she ran to the first changing room.
The changing room was cramped, with only a flickering little light overhead to see by. There was a mirror on the door, but it was almost too close for Mirajane to see her entire body. She hung her outfit on the hangar and began to change.
The pants she'd picked out were skin tight, but probably the most comfortable pants she'd ever worn in her life; they were grey and felt like denim, but were soft on the inside. Tacky sequencing ran down the sides of the legs, and they were patched in a few places. Her shirt was a plain navy blue long sleeve, and over it she wore simple black vest. Finally, she pulled on a pair of short black boots that had a few too many buckles for her to wear normally.
She looked at herself in the mirror, and turned around. She hummed in satisfaction and went back to the main room. No one else was done changing. Hilda was still there, staring at the storm through the window. Her grey eyes were distant, and she smoked on the pipe with the mechanical movements of a life long smoker. When she noticed Mirajane she put her pipe down.
"Well look at you, hun," Hilda leaned forward and laughed, a strangely bittersweet sound. She had a beautifully old smile, Mirajane thought. "Those clothes suit you. Except that vest is a little…come here, hun."
Mirajane stepped forward and Hilda ran her large hands over the vest and found a little tab on the side. The old woman gave it a little tug, and the vest became a little tighter. Finally with a twist she removed the top and bottom buttons of the vest, once again allowing Mirajane to breathe. Hilda looked satisfied at the change.
"You really are a beautiful little girl.." Hilda trailed off and closed her eyes. She picked up her pipe back up and took a long drag, "How old are you, seventeen?"
"Nineteen," Mirajane corrected.
"Just as well. Everyone's too young to be on these streets," Hilda shook her head, and reached into her pocket for more tobacco for her pipe, "All of you are much too young to be chasing after the damned Ghost."
"I'm sure we can handle it," Mirajane smiled, sitting down across from Hilda, "We're mages after all, we've been in some pretty danger situations before and made it out."
"Can't no magic find the Ghost," Hilda gave another one of her bittersweet laughs, "Caerleon is some kind of danger no one's prepared for. Merlin, I'd hate to see you kids get hurt."
Hilda was looking out the window again, and had forgotten to relight her pipe. There was a strange sadness that came from her that Mirajane could almost feel, like a tingling at the bottom of her heart. She wondered what Hilda's story was.
"A lot of other mages have come by, you know that? All of them trying to find the Ghost, and ain't none of them gotten him."
"Mr. Vanunu mention he'd sent other agents undercover," Mirajane said, frowning, "but he didn't say they were other mages."
"Vanunu's a fiend for success, plain and simple," Hilda still was looking out the window. The sun was setting, setting the grey storm clouds ablaze with muted yellows and oranges, "O'course he won't tell you anything he thinks wouldn't help you do what he wants. Even if it could save your damn lives."
"What wouldn't he have told us, Mrs. Hilda?"
"Just Hilda. I ain't been no Ms. or Mrs. in thirty years. The things, girlie, he didn't tell you was, first, that they want the Ghost dead. The second was that Spectre has people in Artisan, had them there since the old days when they were terrorizing the city."
Mirajane eyes went wide as she processed this. Capturing someone was one thing, but killing them. No legal guild practiced assassinations without express clearance from the Magic Council. Handing someone over to be killed was within what they could do, but not by much. But then again, Ellis Vanunu had told them that the Ghost was a killer, and led an entire syndicate of killers.
"But the Ghost is a murderer," Mirajane said, almost cautiously, "Maybe the city would be bette off without him and Spectre."
Hilda was unreadable, her gray eyes looking just past Mirajane, "Would it?"
Mirajane frowned at this and was about to ask Hilda what she meant, but the curtain that lead to the back room rustled and the rest of Team Natsu burst through.
"Why is this shirt so goddamn itchy?"
Everyone else was done changing. And Natsu's shirt was itchy.
Gray wore a pair of creased brown pants and a dark red t-shirt and a huge navy blue, fur lined coat. To top it off, the ice mage had found a matching navy fedora. Natsu, despite his trepidation, had donned the khaki vest with a black thermal shirt underneath and worn out white pants. He had kept his sandals and scarf.
Lucy wore a polka dotted black and blue skirt with a tight, low cut black sweater. Her keys jingled from inside her handbag. Erza had opted for a slightly more risqué look, with a pair of short shorts and fishnet stockings and and a see-through long sleeve. Her boots had just enough heel make them sexy.
"Well good job on picking clothes that fit you," Hilda said, heaving herself up and inspecting the newcomers. She preformed a few minor operations on all of them like she had to Mirajane. When she was done, she put her hands on her hips and nodded, "Y'all look good. But more importantly, y'all look like you're not mages. Just don't talk too much."
"What now?" Gray asked, tipping his fedora to Hilda with a decidedly smug grin.
"God know how long he's been waiting to do that," Lucy whispered to Mirajane, just loud enough so Gray could hear. The ice mage bristled, but Hilda plowed over the conflict.
"Now you mages go to the next stage of your mission, and get out of my hair," Hilda said, giving each one of them a little appraising grin. It shrank as she turned to look out the door, "There'll be a bus out there that'll take you over the bridge onto south side. From there you'll want to start at any inn, 'cause Spectre probably owns every single one of them."
Hilda disappeared into back room for a minute, reappearing with a little purse. She seemed to debate over who to hand it too, finally settling on Erza.
"Here's your gold. It's more than enough to buy a room and some food for weeks, just don't go showing out, or you might find your purse slit."
Hilda looked them all over again, and shook her head. Her pipe was once a gain back in her hands, and she lit it with shaking hands, "Y'all are much too damned young."
Soon the headlights of the bus glared through the window at them through the door. Everyone thanked Hilda for her help, and the old woman accepted it gruffly. They opened the door and filed out, with Natsu in lead, and Mirajane taking up the back. But before Mirajane could cross the door, she felt a large hand grab her own.
"Wait," Hilda said. Her gray eyes searched Mirajane's for something, and apparently she found it. She pressed an ancient looking envelope into her hands, "Hold onto this, and if you find the Ghost, give this to him."
That's when Mirajane saw it; on the left side of Hilda's collarbone, disappearing into her shirt, was the edge of a thick black stripe.
Caerleon City
(South Side)
After nearly bankrupting itself for ten years trying to police the south side, Caerleon City's summarily gave up. As a result, the word of syndicates like Spectre and the Coballition is the only legislature. Here, in the underbelly of the city nothing happens without the knowledge and permission of a local gang lord.
The bus plowed ahead through the wind, but the old vehicle seemed to be shaking apart at the hinges. There was a constant metallic rattling and scraping that made Mirajane wince. The seats were all moth-eaten and smelled like smoke. The engine sputtered endlessly, and getting to their destination without it dying seemed dubious to Mirajane.
The city aged as they got closer to the heart of the south side. The once steel and blue glass buildings were cut together with huge slabs of concrete and bricks and spaced erratically. But high tech lights lit the main streets, and some buildings had exposed wires, making the whole section of the city seem a strange marriage of the old and new.
The only other passengers besides Team Natsu were a few middle aged men dressed in a soot covered uniforms. Somehow, one of them was sleeping through the noise of the bus.
Hilda's words were weighing down Mirajane's mind.
They want the Ghost dead.
How would she tell everyone else? She had to, that much she'd figured out. But how would they react. Even if handing the Ghost over to his death gave Mirajane pause, maybe the others wouldn't think that; maybe they would see it was a necessary sacrifice, not only to complete the mission but to have a killer answer for his crimes.
And maybe it was the right thing to do, but Mirajane couldn't do it, not for anything.
All this thinking and the terrible noise of the train was making her head hurt. As soon as they got to the inn, Mirajane was going to get a few drinks in her then go to bed. And as the bus ride went on, she found some liquor and a warm bed were all she could think about, and wanted she them with the entirety being.
Maybe, Mirajane thought, it was best to stop thinking for a while.
The inn they decided on was called the Cobalt Cave, but was more of a nightclub than an inn. Moody blue lights illuminated the walls, which were made out of a strange stone flecked with luminous blue shards. The bar was in the very back of the room, and a spiral staircase was set into another wall close to them.
The bartender, a young woman, eyed them as they entered, but other than that, they looked like any other set of travelers. It was almost midnight, and the crowds were beginning to thin. A few of the heavy drinkers were just getting started though, and among them was a group of men, all in the same soot covered uniforms that they had seen the men on the bus wearing.
"We'll start our mission in the morning," Erza said, stretching and yawning, "Getting here just took it out of me."
"Yeah I'm beat let's get the Ghost in the morning," Natsu said wearily, his face still a little green; the bus ride had been murder on his motion sickness.
Lucy was practically falling asleep standing up.
"Let's just go pay for our rooms now," Gray agreed.
"You guys go, I think I'm going to get a drink," Mirajane said ignoring their looks of concern and started towards the bar, "I'll catch up with you guys in the morning."
"Be careful Mira," Erza called after her, but Mirajane didn't look back and kept walking. Suddenly their concern for her was much too overbearing, and actually annoyed her.
Be careful? The only danger she would be in would be getting hit on by some drunk guy. As she walked, she felt the eyes of almost every man in the bar glance at her. It didn't even phase her anymore; ever since she was fourteen she had been getting these looks. While she never went out of her way to flaunt it, Mirajane knew that hers was a beauty that drew the eye.
Beauty enough, she would think, to have found a boyfriend or brought some type of love interest her way. Sure she'd had many a man express interest in getting to know her, but Mirajane would be hard pressed to remember any of them that she had also wanted to get to know.
Mirajane sighed heavily as she reached the bar.
Drink now. Think later.
At the bar the only other person at the bar was a traveler. He wore a hooded cloak that obscured his face, and nursed a large mug of ale. Mirajane sat down a seat away from him, but he didn't even notice her.
The barkeep, the same one who had been eyeing them earlier, was cleaning glasses when Mirajane went to order. She was young woman, a little older than Mirajane, with curly blonde hair tied back with a white rag. Her face was dotted with freckles, and she had a small, gossipy mouth.
"What can I do you for?" she asked, not looking up from her glass.
"What do you serve around here?" Mirajane leaned heavily on her elbow, her eyes flitting over the mixers behind the barkeep.
"A traveler, huh?" This seemed to get the girl's attention, and she turned her cobalt blue eyes to Mirajane, "We got some Fire Brandy and guava juice that'd put a dragon on its ass for days."
"I'll take it," Mirajane responded immediately, fishing out the appropriate amount of gold from her own purse and setting it on the counter. The barkeep scooped it up, then proceeded to start mixing Mirajane's drink.
"So how come you're in town? I'm Sarah by the way," the barkeep, Sarah, asked as she poured the Fire Brandy. As soon as it hit the juice it turned a deep, cobalt blue. She put the mix in a tall glass and set it down in front of Mirajane, who took a greedy swig. It burned all the way down to her stomach and she let loose a deeply satisfied sigh. Then she remembered Sarah had asked her a question
"I'm here," maybe it was the Fire Brandy, or how tired she was, because she couldn't stop the words tumbling past he lips, "I'm here to find the Ghost."
"Are you now?" Sarah's eyes lit up at this, much to Mirajane's confusion, "Your upper-crust boys ain't romping you good enough, huh?"
"Excuse me?" Mirajane thought she had heard right, but that second gulp of Fire Brandy had hit her pretty hard.
"We're both girls you can be straight with me," Sarah's small mouth was twisted into a sly smile, "Why else would a north side girl like you be down here? I don't blame you though, if some of what the girls that work here say."
"No, no I'm here to catch him because…because," her tongue was officially moving slower than it was a few minutes ago. This Fire Brandy was no joke, "He's bad guy and killer."
Sarah actually laughed at this; it was a high, pitchy laugh.
"I've heard he's a killer between the sheets, too," Sarah said, laughing and going back to polishing some glasses. The cloaked traveler had coughed as she said it.
With one last gulp Mirajane drained the rest of her drink. She could feel it swishing around in her stomach, warming her up. This would make her sleep much deeper, and a hell of a lot quieter. Mirajane stood, thankfully with her sense of balance intact.
"Hey what you doin', honey, leavin' so damn early?"
The voice was slurred with the precision of a well practiced alcoholic. He was from one of the high tables in the regulars' section. He was goliath of a man, rippling with muscles and scrawling tattoos in a tight fitting wife beater and tight pants. His head was covered in wrapping, with tufts of blue hair sticking out erratically. His eyes were bloodshot and cobalt blue.
Behind was a group of men with similar looks, and strangely the same cobalt eyes.
"It's a little late for me," Mirajane said, giving a shaky smile. Maybe she could placate him long enough to get to rooms. But most likely she would have to come right out and say she wasn't interested, and the Fire Brandy in her stomach wasn't going to let her say it nicely.
"It ain't late, ma," He strode up to her, swinging his arms in tune with the jeering from his goons, "Damn you gotta fine body, girl. I ain't seen a booty like that in years. See my name's Jezebel, I run shit around here. I can give you a lifestyle a north side girlie like you can only dream of. "
Mirajane took a step back to preserve her personal space, carefully judging how many steps it would take her to get to the stairs, "You sure know how to charm a girl…"
"O'course I do, honey," he stepped even closer, and put his face down into Mirajane's and whispered. The smell of a night's worth of ale washed over her,"Listen how bout you and me skate outta here, ma. I know a place where we can get…acquainted."
"I'm sorry, but I have some friends I need to get back to," Mirajane responded quickly, a sour look probably on her face as she darted towards the stairway. She thought she was going to get away, but suddenly her arm was caught, and she was jerked back to Jezebel, much closer than before.
He reached his arms around her, crushing her body into his with one and squeezing her ass with the other, "Where do you think you're going, ma? I ain't finished with you yet. "
Suddenly something was set off inside her. Maybe it was the Fire Brandy, or the thoughts that had been eating away at her for the last few months, but Mirajane Strauss had had enough.
"Don't fucking touch me!" Mirajane shouted, her evil magic power coming to life in a purple flash. The surge of power threw Jezebel back and into a table with a loud crash. His table of goons were staring at her in complete shock. The entire bar was now looking at her.
So much for undercover work.
"Oh so you wanna fuck around with magic, huh?" Jezebel was rising to his feet. As Mirajane watched, his tightly curled fists began to glow with red magic. This was bad, and getting worse by the second. A magical fight here would completely blow her cover, if it wasn't blown already.
Jezebel's entire arms were now sparking with red magic, and his eyes promised murder. He was muttering to himself as he walked, "Trying to be nice, and all I get is rude…this bitch's gonna need a hospital when I'm done fucking her.."
And then we was moving faster than Mirajane would've thought possible. In an instant he had crossed the distance between them, his huge fist cocked back. It was probably some kind of movement magic. That or the Fire Brandy was finally doing what the barkeep had said it would. Either way this was going to hurt.
As she closed her eyes, the last thing she saw was a blur of movement between them; seconds passed, but no blow came.
Slowly, Mirajane opened her eyes.
Now standing between them was the cloaked traveler, holding the huge man's fist back with a single hand. The traveler wasn't even a head taller than Mirajane, and even in the cloak didn't look half as big as Jezebel. Slowly, to Mirajane's shock, the red magic that had been gathering around Jezebel's arms was fading.
"You need to calm down," the traveler said lowly, his voice hoarse and barely above a whisper, but Mirajane felt the tightly coiled threat behind it. Jezebel didn't seem to.
"You need to mind your own business, midget," Jezebel said, and tried to reactivate his magic, but it died just as quickly as it had before. The huge man's cobalt eyes widened and he tried to take his fist back but the traveler held it tightly, "W-who the hell are you?"
The traveler gave a hoarse laugh at this, and jerked Jezebel close enough to see his face under the hood. Mirajane saw his eyes go even wider, and his face paled, "You, wha—"
But he never finished, because the traveler slammed his other fist into Jezebel's chest, sending him flying into the bar. Broken glass and spilled liquor rained down on him. The entire bar went silent. The traveler looked at his handiwork for a second, then turned to Mirajane, and began ushering her towards the door.
"We need to leave," he growled, placing his hand on Mirajane's lower back and guiding her through the crowd.
The stairs to the rooms were now all the way across the room,"But my fri—"
"No, no 'buts'." And that was the end of that.
Once they were at the door, the he scooped up a cloak that obviously wasn't his and put it around her shoulders and fastening the clip in one flowing movement. Up close he smelled kind of stale, like he'd been days on the road. There was a crash behind them and a wailing roar of pain.
The traveler laughed as he quickly and deftly fastened the clasp of her stolen cloak, "You sure know how to pick 'em, princess."
"Believe me, I didn't pick him at all," Mirajane responded, but that only made him laugh more.
Mirajane couldn't see his face in the hood of his cloak, even when he was right in front of her. Once he was done with her cloak he drew his tighter around himself and grabbed her hand, pulling both of them out into Caerleon City.
The rain that had been holding off all day was finally coming, and coming down with a vengeance. The traveler had them both at a run, dodging through traffic until they got to the other side of the street. He didn't look back once as he took off at a dead sprint, practically dragging Mirajane along with him. After a block they came to a narrow alley, and he tugged her in with him.
Mirajane fought to catch her breath hands on knees, but her savior seemed to be at complete ease, leaning up against the building.
"Jezebel Lawrence is the head of a gang called the Coballition," he said as he waited for her to regain her breath. The hoarseness was disappearing from his voice, replaced by a strange canter that made him easy to be heard over the roar of the rain, "They run this part of town, and that dive, the Cobalt Cave is their hangout. No one from around here would go in there and do what you did."
Mirajane just stared up at him, still to winded to speak, with a look in her eyes that said 'So?'
He obviously picked up on it, "You must not be from around here, is what I'm saying."
Mirajane noticed he had a similar accent to Hilda's, but it was less pronounced; the way he accented his words rose and fell like Hilda's, but it was very hard to notice if she weren't listening for it.
"Let's go."
He reached into the shadows and took hold of a rope ladder that Mirajane hadn't even seen. The other end was at the top of the adjacent building, almost a story and a half above their heads. The thing looked ages old, and was frayed in places. He offered the old ladder to Mirajane. She looked at him incredulously.
"You want me to go up first?"
She heard him cluck his tongue impatiently from within his hood, "Who's going to catch you if you fall? Now let's go, before Jezebel's men catch up to us."
Mirajane sighed as she began to climb the rickety ladder. Already she was finding it hard to justify the situation she was in; on the run from a gang with a mysterious stranger, while she was supposed to be on a mission. She felt the ladder shake as the traveler joined her in the climb. She reached the top of the building, despite the death trap of a ladder.
The view blew her away.
The entirety of the south side sprawled before her eyes. All the buildings were around the same height, connected by little wooden board bridges and she could see all the way to the river at one side, and the city limits at the other. The rain gave all the lights of the city a blurry corona, and came down sounding like the applause of ten thousand people.
You just need to live a little.
The rain beat down on her and she turned towards the heavens, and opened her mouth as though she was going to inhale the storm. The rain tasted like acid, metal and smoke, but it was strangely satisfying. Even with the cloak, she was soaked all the way through; she was shivering, and goosebumps ran over her entire body, and in that moment, she felt more alive than she had in two years.
She saw out of the corner of her eyes the traveler had joined her. He held out cupped hand, and caught some rain, and let it fall.
"We haven't had a good rain in too long," he said, almost to himself, and looking around him. Finally he seemed to orient himself, and pointed west, "This way."
He began to jog, crossing over a shaking piece of wood that connected this building to the next. Mirajane followed him, but took her time. They continued on like this, him silently leading her in a winding path towards their destination. He moved with complete assurance, as though running along buildings was a regular thing for him (as far a Mirajane knew, it could very well be).
Falling seemed to be a thought that never crossed his mind as something that could happen to him.
Eventually, they reached a building that didn't have a wooden bridge to walk over. While the other gaps had only a couple feet, this one was nearly five feet across. The traveler stopped, as did Mirajane. She looked to him expecting him to say that they would just go around, or climb down.
"We'll have to jump it," he said simply.
"Jump it?" Mirajane was beginning to doubt her savior, who had shown passable judgement up until this point.
"Whoever laid thee bridges down did it before this building was built," he said as he backed up, almost to the other end of the rooftop, "So no boards will connect it from anywhere."
He began to run, picking up speed as he reached the edge and jumped; he flew through the rain for a second, then landed with a slight bend of his knees. Even when she was in top form, Mirajane doubted she could match that athleticism. Now, two years out of practice, she was sure she couldn't.
"I don't think I'm going to make it," she called across the gap.
"Don't worry, I'll catch you if fall," he called back with a laugh.
It definitely was not the time to be laughing, Mirajane thought angrily.
She quashed her inhibitions (with a little help from the Fire Brandy), and began to run in the same manner he had. She gathered speed until the rain was blurring the world around her, and she was at the jump. Maybe it was the lack of practice and maybe it was the rain, but the next thing Mirajane knew, she had slipped.
She was falling.
She felt her world turn and she was now looking up at the black clouds, and the rain was splattering all over her face. Then there was a shadow that crossed the gap, and a rustle of a cloak being whipped about in the wind. Her descent suddenly jerked to a stop.
Below her was the traveler, now having saved he for the second time. His hand and feet were bracing his entire body and Mirajane against the wall, suspending them twenty feet off the ground. His other hand secured Mirajane too him, keeping her from moving at all. His body was stretched, and she felt his core quivering with the effort of keeping them both in this position.
"Told you I'd catch you, princess," he said. Mirajane looked up, and she couldn't stop a noise of surprise from escaping her mouth.
His hood had fallen back.
The traveler was a young man, no older than Mirajane. His skin was a few shade darker than hers, with a head of long unruly sandy blonde curls that were in need of a cut. His chin was covered in stubble, like he hadn't shaved in days. A linear pale scar ran from his neck, through his lips to right below his left eye. He had thick lashes, that framed a pair of strange eyes; they were simply pale, like witch's eyes. As she looked, she though they could have been tinted blue, gray or even green, but they were almost the same white as the rest of his eyes.
He cracked her a sinister little smile that made his scar look quite threatening, "You're a damn fucking handful, you know that?"
Mirajane didn't respond. Minutes passed, and as the rain fell on them, Mirajane realized that her savior didn't even know her name, and she didn't know his. He seemed to read her mind.
"What's your name, princess?"
"Mirajane," she said, meeting his curious gaze. Heat was now seeping from his core into hers through their rain soaked clothes. To Mirajane it suddenly seemed they were far too close.
He opened his mouth like he was about to say something else, but seemed to think better of it, "I'm Kalan."
Mirajane found that she could't win their little stare down, and let her gaze fall, to his chin and then down to his neck. She took a sharp breath; there it was, on the side of his neck, as though the situation she found herself in couldn't get more complicated…
…three black stripes, tattooed into his skin.
A/N: Oh. Oh damn. Is that a cliffhanger? Sorry, but it had to be cut off somewhere, and this was a surprisingly satisfying ending.
Drop a review if ya liked, or even if you didn't telling me what didn't work for you.
Until next time,
SA