Interlude I
X786
Winter
Soul Eater
The Soul Stealer sat back in his chair, feet propped up on the dark stone surface of the table. Silver eyes watched his ten, and a glimmer of satisfaction flickered across his face, seen only in the twitch of his lips and the gleam in his eyes. These were the ones. It would be time soon.
"Where's Rasul?" Despite asking the question, the Shadow Demon didn't seem to actually care, sharp icy blue eyes focused entirely on the black and silver blade of the katana in his hand. One hand held onto the red hilt while the other wiped a cloth delicately over the metal. The cloth was stained a deep crimson.
"Can't you hear him from the basement? He's experimenting again." Kai looked up, dark brown hair more a black color in the dim lighting, hiding his left eye from view as he stared down the Blood Queen. A crimson snake eye stared back, challenging. After a moment, he scoffed, black combat boots thumping back onto the floor. The motion caused him to jerk forward, nothing keeping the chair he was sitting in from remaining suspended on two legs, and he turned back to cleaning his weapons.
The Blood Queen shook her head almost dismissively, adjusting the black cloak covering the entirety of her appearance. In the brief silence, the faint sound of screams echoed in the room, and a woman with sullen dark eyes nodded her head in time with the rise and fall of the screams. The screaming was abruptly cut short, and her black skull earrings dangled with the abrupt stop of her head.
"That's the ninth one." The Madam of the Damned sang, adjusting the black cloak she wore as it fell off her bare shoulder.
"How long do you think it will be before he runs out?" A mechanical arm moved another piece forward on the chessboard before the masked figure. There wasn't really any eyes to meet; a white mask covered the entirety of the Ghost's face, the black demon's hand that was the Guild Mark taking center stage on the blank canvas in place of facial expressions.
"The accountant lasted a week before she went." The Pale Witch smoothed out her crimson skirt, matching thigh high boots with white laces crossed over one another. She hummed quietly to herself a little tune that would've been creepy had her company been anyone else.
A brunette snickered from their seat, heterochromatic eyes glancing over at the Blood Queen momentarily with a smirk. "You think the mage will last longer?" Marionetta's smirk widened at the thought, fingers brushing the black gem inset into the choker around their neck.
The Ghost looked up from his single-player game. "Is that a bet?"
Their conversation was forgotten as the thick wooden doors creaked open, scraping along the stone. The typically sheet white spiky hair and deathly pale skin were both stained with blood, the long scar running across the man's bare chest an angry, jagged white line. He picked at the white sash holding up his baggy black shorts with slight discomfort. The sash was more of a vermillion than a white, to his slight chagrin. A silver ring glinted on his finger, a single opal inset in the center.
The Soul Stealer frowned. "I thought I told you to keep things quiet."
The Reaper looked up at him blankly, eyes a dark void. "I did."
"I asked him to dispose of some subjects." From behind the Reaper came the Butcher, dressed in a silken white shirt with golden stitching and a gray hunting tunic, his short gray hair spiked up with a little bit of grease. His skin and clothes were flawless, with the exception of a pair of gloves as bloody as the Reaper, which he stripped off with methodical movements.
The two came to sit at one of the few remaining empty seats. "Still, can't believe you managed to pull it off successfully. Guess I have to give you more credit." The Shadow Demon grinned at Reaper, who remained silent even as the others chimed in with their own opinions.
"Where's Copycat?" He spoke abruptly, silencing the brewing conversation.
The Soul Stealer, who had been oddly silent until that point, finally spoke. "Still on her own mission, as is Argyle." He looked around—everyone had straightened up in their seats—and he stood, hands slowly coming to rest atop the table. "When they return, we can finally begin."
Eight pairs of eyes looked back at him, gleaming, and Anima smiled.
X787
Winter
Somewhere in Southern Fiore
Denebola was not expecting to run into Roadkill in the middle of the grassy region, the characteristic oni mask scaring off most people that would think of talking to him. He'd added a jacket over his black shirt for the winter, but the tall, intimidating figure had changed little from the last time they'd crossed paths.
Violet eyes narrowed with the quirky smile that spread across her face, and the silver-haired woman swung the longsword around in her hands—she'd just made it, her newest project, and had been in the process of testing it out until very recently—specks of blood flying off the tip of the blade and landing in the grass. She jogged a little to catch up to him, clapping him on the shoulder and making sure to avoid the red, spiked shoulder pad on his right.
The rogue mage didn't look very happy to see her, and that only made Denebola grin wider. "It's been a while Tenji! What brings you to this part of town?"
Tenji huffed through his nose, handing her a page of parchment that'd been folded up within his jacket. She glanced through its contents; he was on a job dealing with a dark Guild. Den's smile widened. This was just the thing to test her blade. She was trying to see how sharp she could make it, and feather-brained monsters only provided so much of a challenge.
"Mind if I help?" They both knew she wasn't actually looking for an answer; unfortunately, she got one.
"Already taken care of." Denebola huffed; well, that was unfortunate. She handed the ad back to the redhead, fingering the blue bangs of her silver hair. (She needed to dye them again soon.)
With Tenji, there tended to be long moments of silence. He was a quiet individual, and Denebola had found that pushing his buttons either had no effect or got out of hand, very fast. Last time, he'd gone God Mode and between the two of them, an entire small town had been destroyed.
She still felt a bit guilty about that, but she'd left them a note saying they could return the favor, so fair's fair. Probably. She wasn't quite sure how much of that should be divided between the two of them.
Starting to get somewhat tired of the silence—she had been alone in this field for several hours already, after all—Den hummed to herself, thinking of the best way she could have some fun without blowing everything up (again) when her boot thumped against something, and someone grunted from somewhere beneath her.
Both independent mages looked down in surprise to see the hardened face twisted in annoyance. The first thing to notice was the way his left eyelid sagged down a little over a brown eye, that same side of his mouth remaining strangely limp even as the right side moved. His cheek was heavily scarred, and there was nothing to hide it as his black hair was cropped short, the stubble on his chin no older than a few days at most.
"Well," Den stated, because she could, "Aren't you pretty?"
The six foot man grunted as he stood (he still wasn't quite as tall as Tenji though), the bear fur coat hiding most of his figure. A large, two-handed bearded axe was slung over his shoulder, indicating the no doubt muscular form beneath. As a blacksmith, Denebola couldn't help but whistle in appreciation at the site of the man's axe. The grip was dark red wood studded with iron, bands of steel running down each side to make it more durable. The blade itself was etched with runes, and she had no doubt the weapon had some kind of magical properties.
She definitely wanted to test it against her longsword.
Tenji seemed to understand what the glint in her eyes meant—he knew from personal experience, but that was a tale best told another time—as he reached out a hand as if to stop her. Both of them knew that when it came down to it, however, he wouldn't.
"Denebola—"
She swung her weapon wide and down, blocked with a clash of metal by the man's axe, the bearded end of it hooking around her sword and pulling it down. A wolfish grin crossed her face; she'd made it strong enough to prevent him from breaking it.
She leapt back as he swung at her, followed by a jab with the blunt end that narrowly missed her gut.
Tenji seemed disgruntled by the turn of events, though it was difficult to really say for sure with the oni mask hiding his face, but he stepped back, setting his large travelling bag down on the grass beside him and crossing his arms, observing the battle silently from the sidelines.
Denebola grinned as the axe caught her in the arm; a scratch, really, as it didn't even take off the limb, but an injury she could use nonetheless. "Exchange!" The cut disappeared in a searing flash as a new kind of energy flowed through her.
It wasn't a lot of power, but it would last for a while, and her next swing caught the scarred stranger off-guard when there was suddenly more power on it than before.
Tenji continued watching passively from the sidelines, not really caring to get in the middle of things. That is, until the stranger retaliated.
"Shockwave," it was a soft murmur, a spell that didn't appear to do anything at first. But it sounded familiar, and the mage known as Roadkill narrowed his eyes, zeroing in on the other man. Denebola got close with a sharp uppercut that was definitely going to leave a mark later, but before she could react, he thrust his palm into her stomach, and Den was thrown backwards at the shockwave of compressed air rippling through her.
Tenji recognized that move, and this was a fight that would get ugly quick. He sighed; unnecessary environmental destruction would be best before they attract unwanted attention. He doubted the Rune Knights he'd seen a few miles back would just leave a couple of wanted mages alone.
Denebola had already turned her pain into more power, and their blades were clashing once more. It seemed the axe had a similar ability to her Miraculia magic, considering she wasn't immediately overpowering her opponent with pure strength. Of course, Tenji expected as much from a member of Soul Eater.
"Arts of the Crystal God: Crystal Earth," the area around them hardened into crystal, even the grass, his spell expanding miles wide. Denebola smashed a few blades of grass to shards as she went in for another swing, and with narrowed eyes and a sharp movement of his hand, the crystalized ground thundered as it rose, creating a sharp wall between the two.
Denebola stumbled to a stop—even though they both knew full well that with her current enhanced strength, she could probably break through—turning to glare at the culprit. "What the hell, Tenji?"
"If you destroy the entire field, you'll attract the attention of the Rune Knights."
Den scowled, and she drove her longsword into the crystal—or rather, attempted to. The blade wasn't quite durable enough to withstand his magic enhanced crystal, and it shattered upon contact with the force she'd put behind it. Her scowl deepened, and she drove her foot through the crystal, smashing through it this time with her own magic enhanced abilities.
But on the other side, the Bane was gone.
X787
Winter
Crocus
The Captain sighed, lidded golden eyes watching the troops moving about tiredly. Her steel arm tugged at the black cloak draped over her shoulders, and she blinked once, twice. The Council had put her unit in charge of the Games this year, but she didn't understand why they needed to start preparations so early in the year. Her black hair whipped around her ankles in the wind, but it wasn't quite snowing yet. Which was probably a good thing, since she wasn't wearing her winter uniform.
Paris shook her head, pausing as she caught sight of a familiar face. Her frown deepened at the sight of short white hair and sharp red eyes, and quick strides brought her in pace with the woman.
"Azusa Hayashi," the woman continued walking, long brown sleeveless fur coat flapping behind her in the wind. "What, may I ask, are you doing here?"
The corner of Azusa's lip twitched at the question. "On a mission; what else would I be doing here?"
Paris' eyes narrowed; if she didn't know better, she'd say the Abyss Queen was a member of Fairy Tail. The Council's Guard Dog still remembered the last time they met—the Dragon Slayer had been put on trial for the destruction caused in Crocus at last year's Games—and first impressions weren't easily changed. Granted, the destruction wasn't actually the fault of Mermaid Heel, but it had somewhat soured her opinion of some of their members.
"Just because you managed to win last year's Games doesn't give you permission to stake out the grounds this year."
Azusa didn't answer, and Paris sighed in defeat. They were going nowhere fast with that conversation, though she supposed that was to be expected. The two of them didn't exactly get along very well.
"Fine. What mission are you on?" She closed her eyes for a moment, reminding herself to remain civil. Once she convinced the Slayer to leave town—or at the very least, the area—she could return to her work. (Boring as it was at the moment.)
When golden eyes opened again, they found a crumpled piece of paper thrust in their direction. "A couple of dark mages causing trouble. I took care of them."
It was the same group that had been the reason for Paris' unit to be there, since they'd been causing some trouble with the Games. Azusa really deserved a thank you. Paris gave her one, if begrudgingly. She had to give credit where credit was due, after all.
"Thank you."
Azusa rose a brow, finally glancing in her direction. "For what?"
"Nothing you need concern yourself with. Now I'd appreciate it if you left the area soon; I do have to do my job after all." Azusa snorted derisively as Paris tried to regain a bit of her professionalism. If what she'd heard from her sister was true, she was definitely going to have to keep an eye on the seals and barriers when they were set up. Some Guilds had members that got out of control fast, and really, Mermaid Heel should be the least of her problems.
Paris stopped, not wanting to get too far from the stadium, watching as Azusa continued on. The Slayer waved. "See you around, Cerberus."
Only Azusa could make it sound like an insult.
X787
Winter
Spirit Walker Cemetery
It was quiet in the cemetery, with the exception of the soft crunch of footsteps in the snow.
A young man weaved a path between the stones, moving slowly, almost as if with hesitation. His weather worn skin was flushed from the cold, but he didn't seem to mind, wrapped simply in a coat pulled tight around his body. Dark hair was flecked with flakes of ice, looking silver in the evening light.
He didn't stop or pause, heading straight to the back of the cemetery, staring at the blank slate with a stony expression. He stood there for a long time in the silence, emotions travelling too quickly to register properly. None of it showed, not even in his eyes.
When he finally spoke, it was soft, quiet. Raw.
"I'll never be who you remember, Shekinah. I can't forgive you. But he would want me to visit you. So here," he laid a small bouquet of varied zinnias atop the dirt, next to the cyclamens and the tea roses. "These are from the boy you loved. I would wish you luck on the path to heaven, but we both know you're not there."
He left.
Varied Zinnias mean thinking of an absent friend, or in memory of an absent friend.
So we meet a *lot* of characters this chapter haha. And you've met our main villains now, yaaay. :D Well, most of them, anyways.
And I'm sure some of you noticed that I spent my time on other things instead of finishing this. :P To be honest, I got stuck on this chapter a little, haha, so I decided to put my creative energies elsewhere until something came to me. Also that Z Nation fanfiction called to me. (I wrote it in record time, that's how bad it was.)
Characters We Met:
The Soul Stealer – Known by his Guild as Anima, the mysterious Master and Founder of Soul Eater. He's younger than most expect.
The Shadow Demon – Otherwise known as Kai, a twenty-two year old that's been a member of the dark Guild for five years. By WhitewolfLune
The Blood Queen – A member since its founding, this twenty-four year old is one of the senior members. By GiantPsychoGecko
The Madam of the Damned – This twenty year old is the most recent addition, having joined only two years ago. By akuminogo1996
The Ghost – One of the youngest members at nineteen, this dark mage has been a member for five years. By Captain Lassiter
The Pale Witch – The oldest member at forty years, she joined eight years ago. By Dragvil1996
Marionetta – The member the others know the least about, they've been around presumably since the Guild was formed. Their age is unknown. By GiantPsychoGecko
The Reaper – Recently returned, he's twenty-seven and has been around since he was twenty. By GiantPsychoGecko
The Butcher – Rasul is twenty-nine, and has been a member for eight years. By Torsa
Copycat – Twenty-three, this currently absent member has been around for seven years. By TenaciousTurtleDuck
The Bane – At twenty-three, Argyle has been a member for four years. By Torsa
Denebola El-Rafil – The Harbinger of Miracles, this nineteen year old independent mage has a rather large bounty on her head. By Hofund
Tenji Kakou – A rogue mage, this twenty-four year old is better known as Roadkill. By DragonK1ng
Paris Payne – AKA Cerberus, the Guard Dog of the Magic Council. The twenty-six year old is a Captain in the Rune Knights. By LittleMage1996
Azusa Hayashi – The Abyss Queen of Mermaid Heel, an S-class mage that's been with her Guild for eight years. She's eighteen years old. By altajir95