Chapter 22 - Show Me The Place

Written by LastationLover5000 and Demod20

Calm.

That's what the Vizier of Desierto felt. It had been nearly twenty years since he took over as the governing official of the monotheistic desert people. The man of laws had been working on the behest of not just the people, but of the royalty that has ruled for over a millennium; he's but one of many in a long line of lawmakers and judges that cast the might of the goddess queen as her proxy.

But, it wasn't going to be for much longer. For Ja'far desired a change to the status quo. One that couldn't be achieved through delegations and speeches, but through swift, decisive action. He has been patient in his dealings with his allies and cautious with those he didn't trust wholly.

But with the arrival of the unexpected variable in Fairy Tail, he felt confident he has all he needs in pushing his plan to the next phase.

Smiling to himself, he gestured, his long spindly fingers aglow with cyan light. The air rippled, the scenery shifted and suddenly his seating wasn't in the palace anymore. No, now it is inside a very different kind of domain and one not for the rulers of Desire to…

Or rather, not the legal ones.

Large croppings of amber colored stone filled an immense alcove deep underground. Stalactites framed the ceiling like teeth jutting down, dropping the odd but of moisture within, the sound of water flowing behind massive mineral walls filling his ears as much as his eyes beheld the one he wished to speak to.

"You're quite punctual, Vizier," A husky voice spoke with a toothy smile, reclining back against a throne cushioned in rich crimson velvet over a custom-made wooden chair. Ribbed contours filled the backrest and coiled seams filled the handrests beneath the plush armrests. "I was just about to contact you."

Resting back, with one leg crossed over the other sat a woman illuminated in orange from torchlight. She possessed a black hood that cast shadows over her face, the lower angular jawline grinning visibly and faint yellow eyes hidden in a veil of shadow glowed intensely. Voluptuous breasts were pushed up by crimson bands of scaled armor, covering every inch of her body in detail; almost as if her thick desirable physique had a skin of plating itself without losing its allure.

As far as Ja'far could tell, like himself, they were alone in this conversation.

"I hope it's to apologize for sending such trash out with weapons I gave you in confidence," Ja'far jeered with an even tone as his own eyes glared at her. "Had it not been for Kaseem's presence, an incriminating Holder Magic Tool would have fallen into outsider hands. And I would be very unhappy about it."

"You should relax, Vizier," She purred out soothingly, gesturing her right hand around while her left hand formed a fist to rest her cheek onto, displaying nothing but confidence. "Even if they had taken it, they would never make the connection. They would have assumed it to be a weapon common of Desiertians. These are Fiorians we are talking about. They are usually quite ignorant."

"Not all of them," Ja'far intoned, his mouth curling into an irritated grimace. "One of the Fiorians tried to spy on me. He is detained but he is not easily broken; not even my hypnotic ability can put him into a trance. A mind that is resilient to resist it would be immune to any concoction I come up with. Whoever he is, he's no simple mage."

"That sounds like your problem," The woman replied cheekily from her lounging posture on her softly padded throne. "Though I'm sure you'll think of something. As long as you hold him hostage, the other Fiorians can't make a move on you, right?"

"Hm, at least you and I are on the same page," He sighed, allowing his previous smile to return. "I do like how unaware everyone is. It makes what you're doing for me so much simpler."

"I figured that is the reason for your call," She hissed with glee, snapping her outreached hand. In a flicker of light, an item materialized in front of the throned woman, suspended in the air - weightless and still. It looked like a collar, banded by gilding of gold with small rubies engraved in intricate symbols that led to a dangling emblem of the royal seal of Desierto; the crimson dragon on a golden background of the Sun.

Ja'far felt his heart race and his eyes fix upon the object. It had cost him a fortune to procure this object. Worse, it was the only one of its kind and thus hasn't been tested yet. If it should fail to help him do what he desired, then the plan may as well have been for naught.

"I can assure you, I had the finest artificers of Mistral contracted to help make this device," The woman answered his wordless worries. With a mental shove, the item floated across the air over to Ja'far, falling into an outstretched hand of his own. "If nothing else, you could sell this and create a whole new kingdom on its own. Perhaps that would be easier-"

"You don't know me very well if you believe that to be true, Lathayus," Ja'far retorted with a smirk, raising the golden collar with a hand wrapped around it in brandishing revelry. "This country has been long overdue a revolution. And who better to free its people from thoughtless servitude than I?"

Lathayus grinned. Her relationship with the Vizier may be on mutual gain, but she found herself admiring the zeal in his words. He never showed his true self when conducting business for Desierto publicly, so this kind of performative gesture proved how much he depended on her as she him.

Still, even she was cautious. This device isn't foolproof. If the magical restrain is a little too weak or doesn't provide the right reaction, then a much more ravaging alternative will become necessary.

"Remember to choose your moment wisely, Vizier," The Bandit Queen advised, regaining his attention as he pocketed the jeweled trinket away. "If your timing is off by even a second, then this scheme you've concocted will be for naught."

"Even if the worst is to pass, I've calculated our victory as a certainty. Between the two of us alone, we can crush our enemy and all the rest will fold at our display of might. But, we shouldn't discount this investment so hastily," He assuages, folding his hands in front of himself as the desk shimmered. "This plan will work. None shall stand in our way."

"Then the next time we speak," Lathayus spoke with a toothy grin as her visage and the surrounding environment warped away back to the Vizier's palace quarters. "I shall enter Paradisio a Queen not of bandits, but of the entire nation."

Ja'far sighed to himself in contentment. He knew the details had to be hashed out after the dust settled. He didn't intend to make this Lathayus the public face of Desierto if he is to succeed. A ruler of criminals is hardly inspiring.

No, it boiled down to him and him alone how the nation is to be handled in the future.

Ja'far had a thought, and spoke aloud, "Kaseem, are you there?"

"Always," He replied, stepping out of the shadow of his office door and maintained a shrouded black appearance as always.

"I want you to handle our guest down below," He began to say, his lips curling into a malicious smile. "Perhaps you can innovate a means of making his stubborn mouth talk?"

"Finally," Kaseem growled, his fists balling hidden but audibly beneath the fold of his cloak. "I'll ensure he sings like a canary till he can sing no more."

"Good," He nodded with a thin lipped sneer. "To have him resist my hypnosis, and even my concoctions irks me. We are not dealing with an amateur. Do what it takes."

Kaseem wordlessly nodded and twisted on his heels in a flourish of his cloak. As he left the office, a small, crystalline blue frozen eye observed him exiting, pausing till he was out of sight.

Then, it propelled itself in a near silent flutter of sparrow sized wings. The miniature eye soared through the quiet halls, evading detection where all else would have failed. Slipping through a crack in the palace windows along a long walkway, it descended back into the bright Sun filled day of Paradisio. Gliding past vendors, merchants, customers foreign and domestic it fluttered till it landed on the dark blue collar of a blue sleeved man with greyish hair leaning against a booth expectantly.

Blinking as he received the information from his construct, he glanced over at a dark blue pointed hat silhouette who had slid over to his side.

"Sweet Lyon, did you find out what we were looking for?" Robyn asked in an innocent tone, belying the serious gleam in his azure eyes.

"Our hunches were correct. The Vizier is up to something and he isn't alone," He spoke lowly, being very aware of any passerby that may be a spy in disguise. "And based on how distressed Wendy behaved last night as you described, our missing teleporter may be in their clutches as we speak. He may have found out something, or was about to, hence why he isn't simply done away with like a usual foreign criminal."

"Do we spring him out? Torture isn't even a maybe, it's a certainty when it comes to monarchs and their corrupt officials," Robyn proffered with a shove an hip and a raise of a pointed finger for emphasis.

"Not a good idea," Lyon shook his head while maintaining his head on a swivel to the coming and going traffic. "If even one of us are seen by the eyes and ears of the crown. Our best bet is to wait for an opportunity and hope for the best."

"That's not a realistic plan," The former bandit leader shook his head with a sigh. "If I sent in Bobbie, she could have him in and out before anyone knows it."

"All due respect, my lady," The grey haired young man turned to stare at him fully with a stoic expression. "It's fine if all we had to do is spring him from custody. But at any point he's seen outside while we are here, the Vizier can act without reprisal for taking care of a group of conspirators spying on the crown."

"What other choice do we have?" Robyn huffed with impatience. "Wendy's friend is in danger the longer he stays a prisoner. I won't put her in harm's way when helping out convicts is my specialty."

"It is?" Lyon blinked owlishly.

"Oh! Uh, I mean," The blue haired youth scratched his chin as he began to sweat profusely down the face. "Wow, it's hot out here! What I meant to say was-!"

"You needn't worry about your friend," A voice called from behind Robyn, causing him to straighten instantly and twist around to strike. A palm stopped his wrist halfway, clenching it in a calloused grip. Glaring in surprise, the hooded figure with a cloth mask obscuring his face raised a single finger up to divide what would have been his lips if visible. "Don't fight me. I'm here to help."

This guy…he wasn't physically here a few seconds ago, Robyn realized, his nose sniffing the air and could detect a familiar scent.

Narrowing his eyes dryly, he spoke in a flat tone.

"Doranbolt?"

"I don't know who this Doranbolt you speak of," The masked figure side glanced away.

And in that moment Robyn pulled his cloth mask down and exposed the teleporter's face.

"Robyn!" He hissed, pulling the mask back up. "Are you trying to get us all arrested?"

"You escaped," Lyon gaped with his own surprise. "How?"

"Let's just say they didn't design their cells to hold a mage, let alone one that can teleport," He explained dismissively, his eyes constantly averting a lock on Robyn's piercing, judgemental eyes. "The important thing is that I remain incognito to protect everyone else, as well as coordinate a plan."

"What plan?" Lyon asked, straightening up with a more serious countenance.

"Isn't it obvious?" Doranbolt inquired, speaking lowly as to not be heard by anyone else. "We have to save the Queen."

The Queen's Chambers, Desierto Palace

Time and privilege.

These are what the Queen said that Max, as her honoured guest, had plenty of. And she held true to this. Max didn't know how long he had stayed in her chambers, but what he did know, is that he wasn't allowed to leave. Not until he gave her an answer, one way or another. Food had been brought to them, and when Max needed to tend to bodily matters, a corridor within the chamber suddenly opened up, and lead him to a separate room for such things. Yet, he never was allowed to leave the Queen's chambers, and oddly, she never seemed to need the same breaks he did.

Popping a grape into his mouth, Max sat down again, and frowned.

"Is something the matter?" inquired the Queen. "I do not believe you lack for anything here, Max Alors. And I am, of course, awaiting your decision."

"That's not something that can be so easily decided," said Max, his expression pensive. Chewing the grape slowly, a realisation dawned on him; a thought which pushed his own decision, or lack thereof, from his mind, simply due to how disturbed it made him. Certainly, I've been here for a few days now. It's hard to track the passing of time, but I've definitely been in here for at least half a week. But... Max's eyes fell on the Queen, who had curled back up in a restful state. During the entirety of the time he'd been stuck here, why hadn't the Queen left? Even the attendants who bring us our meals never seem to offer the chance to stretch her legs, or take any action outside this room. Stroking his chin, he frowned.

"Your Majesty...when was the last time you've seen the Royal Capital outside?"

The Queen slowly sat up again, yawning. Her mouth briefly stretched wide enough to reveal pointed canines, almost sharpened. Briefly, Max was reminded of Natsu's toothy grin - these were the same sort of canines - though the thought vanished from his mind the moment her mouth closed, and a pristine pale face stared curiously at him. "What a question to ask, Max Alors. It has been many years since I've last seen the city - not since I took the throne, I believe. My previous husbands and attendants handle the "day-to-day" duties; I merely speak on behalf of laws that would change Desierto as a whole." She added, almost as an afterthought, "And of course, the desert must be tied to someone."

Since she took the throne... Max tried to understand how long this was. She didn't seem to be older than her late thirties, though he know monarchies would be very strange about inheritance and that sort of thing. "That still doesn't tell me how long it's been."

The Queen tilted her head curiously. "I believe you and I have different understandings of the passing of time, Max Alors. But if this helps it make sense to you, you would not have been born the last time I truly saw my city."

The Fairy Tail Mage made a face. She almost felt like a prisoner in her own castle, yet completely unaware - or maybe unintentionally complicit? Max stood up, walking towards one of the walls. Carefully, he ran his hands along the smooth, stone face of them. Walking along the length of the room, Max found no openings; the entrance he'd through had been sealed seamlessly, as had the entrance to the lavatory. No exits or entrances, except when they decide to come in... His hand felt along further, and his fingers slipped through the window. A window, just wide enough to allow for air and light, but not enough for a human body to fit through.

From her seat, the Queen was watching Max carefully, almost amused. "Max Alors, is there something you find unsatisfactory?"

Max walked back towards the Queen, and looked down at her, his face determined. "Would you like to see your city?"

"Would I like to—what are you proposing, Max Alors?" inquired the black-haired woman. "I cannot possibly stroll about the city."

"We'll worry about that when we get out there," said Max, gesturing to the outside. "But that is your city, your country, and you're cooped up in here?" He didn't want to say what he really thought, what he suspected - that she was being held prisoner by her own people, or perhaps even her own negligence. He extended a hand to her. "I can't give you an answer yet, Your Majesty. But it will be much easier to decide if you come up with me."

The Queen hesitated. It was brief, Max saw the uncertainty in her bodily movements. "Is there something you think you can show me, Max Alors? Something you - a foreign man who has never stepped foot in my nation before now - can show to me, the Queen?"

"I've only been here a few days, but I'm willing to bet I've seen more of your Kingdom than you have in a very long time, your Majesty," replied Max firmly. From any other person, this would have been an absolute slap in the face. Perhaps it would have even been grounds for execution. Max truly did not realise how he disrespected the Queen by saying something this bold.

Yet her following smile surprised him nonetheless.

"I admire your honesty, Max Alors...even if I consider it foolhardy," said the Queen. She inhaled slowly. "Fine. Let me see my Kingdom with you." She took his hand, and allowed him to help her stand. "I take it you have a plan to get us out, then? I don't believe you'd like me to ask the guards."

Max shook his head, grinning. "Now you'll get to see my talents. I am a Mage, after all." Placing his hand on the wall, Max slid it along the surface in a circular motion. "Solid Crumble." Muttering the name of the spell, the polished stone collapsed in the circular motion following Max's hand, and sand began to flow freely from the spot, rushing to the ground below. "I'm a Sandstorm Mage," Max explained, gesturing to the freshly made hole, which was easily big enough for a human. "With a bit of practise, we can even crumble solid rock."

Sparkles lit up in the eyes of the Queen. Walking over, her thin, pale hands touched Max's darker, wider ones. She looked them over, apparently very pleased with what she was seeing. "You are indeed a Sandstorm Mage. The sand loves you, I can feel it."

To Max, this made no sense, at least not at face value. Sandstorm was simply the magic that came easiest to him; he'd tried different kinds of elements, even attempting something as bold as Air Magic, which would have given him massive control of many possible situations. All of them had largely ended in failure. However, Sandstorm was a magic he found he could do, and hadn't required a load of practise. Sure, he knew there were mages who could perform a multitude of various Sand and Earth based magics, but he was happy with what he had.

At the same time, the Queen grabbing his hands made him flush a deep crimson. Her hands were soft, and surprisingly cold. He wondered if it was the lack of sunlight that was responsible for her icicle touch.

"Yet if we go out as we are now, it will certainly arouse suspicion," the Queen thought. "I have not walked these roads in far too long, and you should be well known in my city by now for having won my favour."

Max nodded, feeling slightly put out at this. He'd not given it any thought past wanting to prove a point to the Queen, but it was true - they would be two of the most obvious people casually strolling down the roads of Desierto. "I've never been good at Transformation Magic, much less being able to transform someone other than myself..."

The Queen chuckled, a sound that Max found to be surprisingly beautiful. "You worry and hesitate on too many things, Max Alors. Allow me to show you - as I said, the sand has chosen you." She swept her hand over to the hole Max had made in the wall, which was still pouring grains of sand from its entrance onto the ground below them. The sand grains slid onto her palms, flowing very unlike the miniscule pieces of earth they truly were, and she turned to face Max. From her mouth, a string of strange words echoed, in a language Max had never heard. She threw the sand into the air, looking upward and exhaling gently into the airborne desert grains.

Max felt magical power surge through the sand as it descended upon both of them, falling as gently as snow. It enveloped both of them, and transformed them entirely. The Queen began to shrink, until she only came up to Max's waist. Her appearance had shifted to that of a young girl with tanned skin, and dark, royal blue haired, tied up in a bun. She wore white robes, lined in black, but the outfit was otherwise indistinct, common even. Max's height remained unchanged, but his attire was more traditional as well; a white cloak, embroidered in yellow and green lining, worn over a dark green tunic. His skin had tanned, and his hair was slightly longer, royal blue, and tied back.

"There," said the Queen cheerfully. "Nothing suspicious of a father taking his daughter through the marketplace."

Max stood, astounded. He'd figured something was off about the Queen, but to see she was capable of such high level magic was another matter entirely. This wasn't a simple illusion that typical transformation magic cast; it was a full body transformation using sand as the catalyst.

"I ..."

"Now," continued the Queen. "We'll need a way down." Scooping sand into her hands again, she held the cupped grains against the opening. Exhaling again, her breath transformed rhe sand. It erupted from both palms into a plume which retained its shape, as if it were a cloud of sand. The Queen smiled, though in her new, childlike form, it was more a cheeky grin. Making a leap, she landed firmly onto the cloud, standing as easily on ot as she had the sandstone moments before.

"Why do you hesitate, Max Alors?"

The Sandstorm Mage balked, until the Queen held out her hand to him.

"Are you not the one who wanted to show me my city?" she inquired. "The initiative should be yours."

Hesitating no more, Max took her hand, and a leap of faith. Landing onto the cloud, ne felt amazed. There was no sand like this anywhere on earth, so strong yet so lightweight. And she had made this from sand he crafted?

"Now then," said the Queen. "We are off!"

A/N:
Demod20: And here we can see the unveiling of the vizier's machinations, including the introduction of a conspirator in the form of a bandit queen! Things are heating up with the Queen and Max, sweetly uncovering what makes her tick as they get to leave out to show her what her people really are like. The best parts are yet to come, thanks for your patience and continued reading of this story of ours!

LastationLover5000: This was a pretty interesting chapter to write. I will say this story is a refreshing break from my Dragon Ball works, as I am not writing constant violence every time I open a document. Fittingly, I gave my co-author - who has a flair for dramatic moments - the section with the Vizier and this new entity, Lathayus. And look at that, Doranbolt is OK! I look forward to us explaining that later on. My section of this chapter was decidedly more relaxed, and less dramatic. I am enjoying writing these tender moments between Max and the Queen. This story is largely meant to be romance in nature, but as the two main focuses of it - Wendy and Sherria - are not at that stage, it's nice to get practise in with Max and the Queen, who form an interesting dynamic. I hope you all enjoy what is to come!