The Shadow Dragon Slayer takes his own seat next to Nightshade, dressed in a black tux, his hair covering his scar on his face. I sigh, standing up. I move over to him, and pull his hair back behind his ear. "Wear your scars proudly."

I glide back, Nightshade gazing at me hopefully and I smile just a tiny bit. My approval is granted, as long as he doesn't hurt my baby girl.

Bickslow looks at her some more, taking in her dress of deep purple, with a blue sash around the waist and a black piece on her chest, matching the strands wrapped around her right arm. Her hair, a black blue shade, is braided and looped, hanging off her head and down before the final strands coming down to her mid back. A small crown of flowers, light blue, decorate her head, and pale pink rose earrings accessorize the outfit. Her dress is so long you can't see her shoes, which have a slight heel and are black as night, by the way. The finishing touch is her own mask, made almost entirely from gemstones and enchanted to hold back almost any power she has, if she can't control it. Diamonds stop her eyes from truly being seen, the flaws in them creating a shield that's easy to see through on one side; hers.

Nightshade reevaluates him right back, seeing a bit of herself in him and he right back at her. His suit is rather crumpled from where Neloth was pushing him, but the personal touches of the blue and white stripes on the dress shirt are nice. The black suit pants fit well, and go with the jacket. He rolls up his sleeves, and I look around some more, seeing more and more filtering down from the dance floor. Kurohebi and Rustyrose are laughing, the Imaginative man using his magic to add to the story he's telling his Brother.

All in all, it seems like a pretty nice evening.

"Bickslow!" shouts Laxus from atop the staircase. All the team members from Fairy Tail, actually, everyone not in our Family rushes over to the Seith mage.

I guess I was wrong.

This chapter's song is Go To Sleep by Aftermath.

After everyone has finally taken their seats, which took much longer than it should have (182), the waiters start bringing out various foods, suited to the tastes of the future consumer. For example, Lucy has strawberry lemonade and a strawberry cheesecake accompanied by a delectable pasta with delicate herbs, garnished with mint and strawberries. (183)

We all settle down to our meals, although some of ours are just for show. Mine, while full of tastes that would astound a normal person's palate, is merely mediocre to me, as there is no blood in there for me to taste. Bickslow's meal is likely the same, as is Kessie's and, no doubt, Nightshade's. Being a vampire, while lengthening your life indefinitely among other things, sometimes takes away from the experiences of life, while giving new ones. (184)

Another advantage of being a vampire, as well as a High Elf, is advanced hearing. A scuffle is occurring outside the doors on the opposite side of where they entered. The Dragon Slayers are taking note of it, and I mentally send a message to the guards to quiet it down. Almost instantly, the sound cuts off, as if it is just a blip in a system.

I take a sip of my wineglass, as the Dragon Slayers look about in confusion, their Mates wondering what they're worrying about. Pointless. Bickslow, however, looks directly at me and raises an eyebrow. I respond with an eyebrow of my own. I'm just sitting here, sipping away.

I can't do anything about the scuffle until most people leave. Neloth and his idiocy have already screwed up this night enough. I don't really wish another scandal. Through the link, I tell the guards under my control to keep the person causing the ruckus in custody, putting them in one of the cells under the palace, more importantly, one of the darker ones where you can't see anything. Most people I keep in there come out ready to confess in ten minutes. I make them wait an hour at the least. (185)

Moving on, I listen to the conversations around the table. Orion and Nexus, the former directly across from me, are having a very animated discussion about the pros and cons of both of their magics, which quickly devolves into a debate about which Lost Magic would be better in a fight.

"For strategical thinking, nothing could be better than Time Magic!" Orion passionately argues.

"True, but for a straight up fight, Imagination Magic would ultimately be more useful."

"The correct answer is both." Hibiki adds to the conversation, him sitting next to Orion. The pair of arguing males turn to him.

"Actually, Hibiki, Time Magic is very volatile. If you attempt to use it on other people or animals, it can kill you in retribution. Even using it on plants is risky. Lost Magics are all about karma and equal treatment." I clarify, and the arguing persons regard me.

"But if it was used to set up traps?" Nexus questions.

"Excellent question. Most likely it would work out well, but, both points are valid. Ideally, the two could be used in conjunction and defeat most people by trapping them in a time decaying patch of land caged in by imaginative creatures, or something else akin to that." I sip my drink calmly, pleased with the taste, reminiscent of blood. (186)

"Where did the Lost Magics come from?" Rogue speaks up, curious. He looks directly at me.

I smile slyly. "From the combination of different root magics, as I call them. They were the initial branches of magic. Alteration and Conjuration combined together made Imagination Magic or the 'Lost' Arc of Creation possible. I was there when it was first discovered; almost blew up the hold. Thankfully, it didn't, but the person actually could not control the magic, always having it burst out in spurts of magic, uncontrollable. They ended up visiting the Augur of Dunlain, underneath where the original magic had occurred. Unfortunately, the only way it could be controlled was if their magic was locked away, and by my smithing skill and Sergius' and mine enchantments, it was so made."

I swirl my drink thoughtfully. "That was a dark day in magical history. While Creation Magic is beautiful, it caused a breakdown and, quite possibly, the shortening of that student's life. Too much magic energy released in a short time from one individual can shorten their lifespan, literally take off years of their lifespans. It consumes their magic within, that keeps every base being alive. He died a few years later, aging much too quickly. We tried to figure out the cause, and as the removal of the restraints did nothing, we did, in fact, understand why he was dying so rapidly. By that point, though, he was too far gone, and would have required a soul transfer, therefore destroying almost every aspect of his personality or twisting it in some way to something…. either dark, or evil. It was…. a cacophony of people trying to argue why we should or should not help him, as well as delegates from different countries wanting to get their hands on the power to have an edge over one place or the other. We forced them out, but what was an aberration then became commonplace." (187)

"Fascinating." Hibiki mutters, and I look at him, smiling.

"It is. Sad, but intriguing. History often is." I state, and spear a mushroom onto my fork, popping it into my mouth. Normally, a mouthwatering delicacy, a truffle. To me, something that tastes vaguely like what it's supposed to.

Oh well.

"What else do you know, Listener?" Rogue asks, carefully phrasing his words.

I chuckle. "Much that no one else remembers. You will have to be more specific, though." I chew another truffle while they think.

"Was there any race that posed a threat to mankind?" Hibiki asks, genuinely interested.

I frown. "Yes, but not just to mankind. To the beastial races and elves, as well. They were called the Falmer, or the Betrayed, by their non-corrupted survivors. The Falmer were once Snow Elves, living in Keizaal, a place that was rapidly being settled by Nords. They wished it for themselves, and started taking it by force, murdering Snow Elves until war was declared. The Nord forces quickly overwhelmed the Falmer, and turned to the Dwemer, fellow elves that built massive underground cities and had advanced magic, far beyond what we had then. Their steam powered mechanisms frustrated and hindered wizards for years, since they disappeared. The Dwemer, however, betrayed the Falmer, and gave them poisonous mushrooms to eat in terms of them sheltering the other elves. The fungi blinded them, and fueled a burning hatred of surface dwellers, man and mer alike, no discrimination at all. Eventually, they started to rebel under the Dwemer, and when the Deep Elves disappeared, the Falmer retained their bestial rage for all those above and walking in the sunlight."

I pause and sip my wine delicately, refreshing myself. "They languished in the Dwemer cities for centuries, perhaps longer, but eventually started gaining in intelligence again, not to the point where they would be able to actually kill every person above ground. Of course, the possibility remained. As the attacks on surface dwellers by the Falmer became more common, the Empire and the Thalmor came together and, with Dwemer experts guiding forces through the ruins of the lost cities, ended the threat. It happened on the same day at the same time. Battle mages, archers, scouts, infantry and heavy infantry, all of them were involved. Somehow, the Falmer were caught off guard and butchered, almost everywhere. I want to say that it was unnecessary, but, in all actuality, the coordinated attack on the surface world would have happened in mere months, had we not intervened. Falmer translations of their texts found at camps practically everywhere stated the same message." (188)

"That's depressing."

"History usually is, funnily enough." I sip my drink. Nothing on my plate is very appetizing at the moment.

"Were you always confident that your team would win the Grand Magic Games?" Rogue asks, quietly, but everyone hears him.

I smile and look at him. "You are a joy to be around." (189)

He doesn't even blink, and I tilt my head to the side, still staring him in the eyes.

"I had my doubts, yes. But a bit of doubt is much better than overconfidence and arrogance. Because those lead to downfall. Downfall leads to destruction and betrayal. I take care to avoid those. But my question is, did you believe you could beat us?"

His eyes move away from mine, and he considers the question. Good boy.

Rogue opens his mouth to answer when Bacchus stands up and yells from across the room, "WE CAN ALWAYS BEAT TYRANTS LIKE YOU!"

The drunkard approaches me, and I sigh, nonchalantly sipping my wineglass. Always making trouble, these Quatro Cerberus wizards….

Rocker joins him in his mad dash towards the most powerful person in the room. (190)

"WHY? BECAUSE WE'RE FROM A GUILD THAT VALUES FAMILY!"

"Friendship!" Lyon slams his fist on the table, Sherria beside him glaring angrily at me.

"Power!" Jura stands up, adding his voice to the mix, Hoteye moving with him.

Rocker tacks on an, "OH YEAH!"

I sigh, swirling my drink one more time, take a big sip, and tap into Blood Magic.

"You all partook in my hospitality, did you not?" I ask, innocently.

They all stop, taken aback, and glance at the others. Of course, they all had done so. Others in the room, not standing, also regard one another, curious and slightly scared.

"Your point is?" Richard, Hoteye, asks. Ah, yes. One of the Oracien Seis, former member. What a wonderful assassin he would have made.

"You ate something that allows me to pronounce your death with a single word." I whisper, but the silence in the room is absolute. In no way can someone not hear me. Just my words reverberate, and gasps follow.

That's right people. I'm evil.

"You're bluffing." states a disbelieving Lyon. Sherria, right beside him, nods vigorously. "There's no way we wouldn't have noticed it."

"Would you like a demonstration?" I whisper, smiling and showing off my fangs. They glint in the light, and the tiniest of flinches appears on his person.

"I don't believe you."

I sigh, but shrug halfheartedly. "I warned you. Diin."

The Rotmulaag rumbles through the room, and, for a moment, nothing happens. Lyon smirks victoriously, before a wrenching sound echoes throughout the hall.

182- Laxus couldn't stop crying. For some reason.

183- It works.

184- A new wine came out about a year after I became a vampire; everyone noted the hint of persimmon, while I could barely taste it. But, pureblood Volkihar Vampires are often not noted for their taste, but rather their prowess in battle and bloodthirstiness. Both of which somewhat pale in comparison to tasting subtleties.

185- More often, it's 3. But sometimes I'm merciful.

186- I wonder if there's such a thing of a drink combining wine and blood…. It could be interesting.

187- The student died in peace, without pain. Collete and the Augur made sure of that. Their magic combined was…. beautiful.

188- I personally hunted down the last of their kind, killing their leader. It made me sad about how this seemed to parallel the Snow Prince's fall. But, it had to be done.

189- I'm not being sarcastic here; no one else asks me this kind of thing Not even Nightshade, and everyone else in my organization wouldn't dare. Well, Noctus and Morrigan might, Nexus wouldn't care, Orion wouldn't think of it, the 'reformed' ones, assassins from previous guilds would not wish to ask this for fear of it being seen as subordinance. Decimus is too sweet, he just wouldn't ask it.

190- Eh, kind of. Bickslow has grown in power and against each other, definitely, it would be a stretch. So it's open to debate. Mostly which one of us strikes first.