June X790
"Fae, are we gonna talk about why Sting can't even set foot inside the city limits of Magnolia?"
"My hand must have slipped when I was checking the Gildarts Shift mechanics."
The tone that the Rune Mage spoke with was flat and toneless. Wendy had just come back from an extremely long day of research, studying up on potential treatment plans for Jude Heartfilia. And did not have the energy to untangle this new conflict.
Jude was Fairy Tail's biggest and most successful patron, and almost singlehandedly responsible for the guild's recent international success. His constant insistence on having Fairy Tail provide security at his meetings had brought them visibility and recognition, and that had opened many different doors, particularly for Fae's more far-flung research projects. He had more than made up for any damage he had done to the guild with the Phantom Lord mess, and was now their closest ally and friend. And now he was dying. His heart was giving out, and Wendy, supposedly the best doctor on the continent, couldn't even figure out why!
I don't want to deal with this right now. I'm tired...!
But Rogue had asked her to mediate on behalf of their friend and Wendy would forge ahead. The White Dragon Slayer was currently pacing the rim of the city, frustrated to the extreme at not being able to come and check on his crush. The city walls would literally swat him away from the gates. And if Sting was not happy, Lector would complain he was off his game. And if Lector complained, it made Frosch sad. And when that Exceed got sad, Rogue got to work resolving the problem. And in this case, he couldn't just beat it bloody and make it apologize.
Which meant it was her job.
"What did he do this time?"
Fae had gotten quite good at booting Sting out of her territory. But this was the first time she was taking active measures to keep him away.
The green haired Rune wizard remained where she was, hand moving at a steady rate as she wrote another page for her spellbook in careful calligraphy with her lacrima pen glowing steadily. Her voice was level, Wendy could smell that her magic didn't so much as ripple, though she knew that she had to be upset.
"Did you know that both Rogue and Sting believe they killed their parents?"
Oh...that's why.
"Rogue mentioned it."
She had been furious at first. The idea of anyone harming Grandeeny brought her to the cusp of Dragon Force. But her temper had cooled slightly since then as reason had prevailed.
"And did you tell him it was not likely that he as a five year old managed to kill even a sickly dragon?"
"I...did."
Admittedly not in so many words... It was a good thing Rogue could hide in his own shadow if he had to. Her reflexive strike had nearly taken off his head. The idea of someone using their magic to hurt their own dragon parent was outrageous and horrifying and absolutely enraging to her.
"How did he take it?"
Wendy considered that, reflecting on the Shadow Dragon Slayer's response. He had been indignant at first, that she doubted his capabilities. Once she calmed down enough to listen. But with time, they had worked it out.
"He remembers what he remembers. I can't fault him for that, even though he does agree that it's unlikely given what all he could do at that age."
"Sting doesn't see it the same way."
Fae dusted a setting powder over the magical script marching across the page, amber runes forming as she pressed down on the corners to seal the spell in and preserve it until she could link it up with it's other pages. If she remembered correctly, she was linking up some intense backstory needed for a stealth and intelligence totem.
"Ok. How are you seeing this?"
Pale blue eyes meant Wendy's. It was like she was a little girl again. Standing in the heart of Cait Shelter, sitting across the fire and watching as Fae's eyes widened with shock and grief that she couldn't stop feeling even if she tried. There was distance from the emotion, but there was no way for Fae to ever divorce herself from it entirely. She would always feel...
"You know I can't see as much as I normally do with them... but what I can see is that Weisslogia loved him. More than anything. He was his father. If it were a straight fight, no true parent could face down their child and live with themselves afterwards. And Sting believes that he killed him. Even knowing that. He's proud of it."
Incredulity colored her tone. Seafoam waves shifted softly as she ran her hand through her hair. Hurt and grief, second hand but felt clearly all the same, made her eyes glow all the brighter a blue. With tears rather than magic.
"I don't understand how he could be proud of that. Every memory I saw from him, he loved Weiss right back. The same way you all love your parents. But, he remembers standing over his father's body, holding a lacrima made from his magic... and believing wholly that he killed him and ripped it from his corpse. No sign of tampering."
"He's not guilty at all?"
Rogue had been. He had buried the feeling so deeply that Fae had not been able to pick up on it in passing even with all the time they spent together. He lingered on those thoughts when he was at his most melancholy...
"He was. That's what makes me think he isn't remembering something right. It's the natural inclination to feel guilt after surviving the loss of a loved one, especially if you had something to do with it. But he isn't anymore. He's over it. You don't get over losing someone like that!"
Fae's voice broke and so did Wendy's heart.
"He's talked himself into believing that it was justified. Something like a final exam from Weisslogia. Like, he was taught Dragon Slayer Magic, and the only available test subject was Weiss himself. It was the only way to get the lacrima and become Third Generation- but it-...It doesn't make sense!"
Wendy sighed, carefully sitting beside Fae.
"Yeah, that's just about what Rogue said too. With more general unease and angst."
The Rune Mage's head thudded onto the table with a long groan. Wendy reached up and absently started finger combing through Fae's thick sea green waves, avoiding the braids she had carefully placed just that morning. Grandeeny had feathers, so she often preened and cleaned her wings and body to keep them in optimal condition. The long feathers that let her fly, the thick, downy layer that kept her warm. She remembered a gentle touch nosing around her, warm breath blowing over her, feathers tickling and soothing in the same gesture. Sharp talons that touched with the tenderness she knew now only a mother could give.
Wendy had come to view Grandeeny as a mother by learning from her, flying with her, living with her. Fae and Kagura in much the same way were her sisters. They lived together, flew together, spent time in one another's company, they would team up on certain jobs. And they would often train and practice their magic together.
"If I'd gotten to him before he started believing it wholly, I could have sorted out the memories. Helped find what was actually there..."
You're more upset that he's believing something you know isn't true. And that he's not listening to you.
It was about time that Sting pushed back somewhat. Wendy didn't know why Fae wasn't acknowledging the White Slayers' persistent attention, and she didn't want to push. But sometimes she honestly wondered if Fae had even noticed it. The Story Mage considered the top tier Sabertooth mage a friend, and respected his drive and skill. They had clashed often enough over the years that she knew exactly what he was made of.
So it was very jarring for Fae to come face to face with something that she could not, would not ever condone: Sacrificing family for power. It was something she could not let go, and was too emotionally involved to work past it with her usual logic and reason. This was also the first time the long standing pair of friendly rivals were well and truly fighting. And the Rune Wizard was handling it about as well as Wendy thought she would.
Fae was inherently a peaceful person. Remarkably so given the influences she had grown up around. Often snarky, occasionally mischievous, and frighteningly intelligent. But she liked harmony in her personal relationships. And right now, one of hers was anything but. And if Wendy knew her...Fae's fear of losing Sting as a friend was turning her normally efficient, steel trap of a mind into a hamster wheel of anxiety.
"You're not gonna persuade him of what's real by avoiding him."
"I can't think near him enough to explain and make him get it. There's too much dissonance between what I know, and what I infer about their relationship. And then that story runs into the worst possible cliffhanger when Weissolgia dies. I'm left dangling because Sting's narrative takes over and it's just wrong. Sting's individual point of view doesn't line up with where their combined one left off. I know there's something missing there. But that stupid tunnel is there again. So I can't figure out what's right either."
The Sky Sorceress hummed, letting her taller friend sit up and slump against her shoulder, still gently playing with her hair. Now grown down past her shoulders, a lovely, light blue-green in layered waves. Courtesy of Jude's personal stylist, since Fae could not care less what she looked like most days.
"Well a little frog told me that Sting still doesn't really get why you're mad at him. And he's camping out in the forest near 'your spot' until you come talk to him."
"I'll send him a letter. I still might hex him if I see him in person."
Normally Fae would use a Patronus to deliver that message, but if she wasn't happy, then that clearly wasn't an option. Wendy settled in to talk Fae through making up with her estranged friend, praying that it would work out in the end.
The Twin Dragons and the Three Furies were two distinct units. But they had been coexisting peacefully and happily for some time. Wendy didn't want to lose the small, precious family she had built.
July X790
I was avoiding my problems. I was quite good at that by this point. Morgana affirmed that Sting had gotten my letter clarifying why I was avoiding his presence. She had dissuaded me from informing him that his mistaken belief was migraine inducing at ten yards and I was not about to get any closer until he pulled his head out of his rectum.
Instead there was a much more eloquently worded letter containing my statement that I sensed something untrue with what he was telling me, but couldn't find what the truth was. His presence exacerbated the headaches, and generally made my life much painful and nearly impossible to work. Hence my asking him for space and time to figure out how to cope with this contradiction.
...In a letter.
And locking him out of Magnolia to basically force him to respect my request was perhaps taking it a step too far. It wasn't as though he lived here, it was fine...
He spends about 30% of his overall time here, even going so far as to ride trains to come visit you in spite of his motion sickness.
Nope, not letting you guilt me into seeing him again. Not until we've got a solution for the headaches.
They absolutely killed my ability to work. And Sting had proved he wasn't about to stay away unless someone made him. After he got my letter, he had shown up that same day to ask, or maybe demand was the better word, for details on why I asked for him to stay away. And I told him. I was coping with a splitting headache, emotionally assailed by Sting's love for his foster father and the matter of fact belief that he considered him the cause of his death. I didn't handle Sting coming in hot well. It had resulted in our first truly hostile fight in almost seven years of pseudo friendship.
It had only been a few weeks since he stopped dropping in on me randomly. I was handling it...worse than I thought.
I think people had largely given up trying to keep Sting out of my room. I certainly had. Originally, the wards had been designed to trigger whenever someone entered the space without my permission. I had managed to infuse them with enough intent that friendlies could enter the space without obtaining prior permission. It would be based on those who were vetted by a combination of my trust and their perceived intent.
Friends could pass without any side effects. If they had some mischief planned, they might have their footsteps make the sound of a squawking duck. Their hair might change colors depending on the truthfulness of their words. Hostile or malicious intentions would get the most extreme reaction, paralysis, ballistic expulsion from the area, fire and explosions, etc. My personal favorite was for thieves. They would get caught in a sleep paralysis-illusion combo that would take them through a daring chase scene based on their sense of the uncomfortably dramatic, backed by increasingly corny heist music.
The pivotal point was...my wards didn't react to Sting. At all. They never had since I started using this set up. They just let him waltz right in without any challenge. And this meant I would sometimes wake up with Sting passed out on the couch and not have gotten any warning that he was there.
Fairy Hills was a property that we had managed to hang onto even in our decline. My roommates and I shared the top floor. I had renovated two smaller bedrooms into a large studio that contained a bed, reading area, and private workshop for totem creation. And the White Slayer had unerringly found my room. He would show up when he and Rogue came back from a job. But Rogue was reasonable and called us up like a normal person when he was back.
Sting just found a way into my apartment and slept there.
And it was no longer worth kicking him out. I'd kind of gotten used to him being there. And it was throwing me off to not see him.
Ok, I'm gonna stop thinking about him. I'm here for something else.
I knocked at the door of the hospital room, peering around the open door.
"Jude?"
"Fae! Come in, dear. It's good to see you."
Lucy's father and the head of the Heartfilia estate had had better days. He had fallen on rough times some 6 years ago, but that was practically a distant dream by now. Jude was his daughter's father. He was dang smart when he took something seriously. His assistance and business acumen had grown my audience in multiple countries exponentially. And that boom had also opened doors for me to be able to access other countries' histories, and in turn, write various other academic articles. Which got me invited to museums, which led to a string of artifact smuggling and forgery detection jobs that had taken several months to work out.
But right now, though his eyes were still bright, his skin had an unhealthy color to it. I knew that if I took his pulse, it would be rocketing ahead at an extreme rate.
"I don't suppose you've come to spring me from this bed?"
I chuckled, sitting down in the chair already placed for easy conversation.
"You know I'm not. I'm already pushing Wendy's rules by even discussing business with you. You're supposed to be living a zero stress life until she figures out what's going on with your heart."
The man huffed, but settled back into the hospital bed. Lucy may take after her mother in a very strong way, but she and her father both scowled in the same fashion.
"I've heard it said I don't have a heart. I'd love to be able to prove some people wrong."
Jude overexerted himself extremely easily. He would be breathing heavily just from walking up a few steps some days and work his usual 20 hour days without breaking stride on others. The oscillation was extreme enough I felt no guilt about tattling on him to Wendy and having her move up his normal physical to use her doctor granted powers to get him to take a step back.
"Well, they say 'pictures or it didn't happen'. And there are definitely pictures of you having a fully functional heart."
"I believe you mean 'partially' functional."
The man took a few deep breaths, flexing his hands slowly and carefully. They were trembling slightly, another sign of his recent poor health.
"One good thing about being stuck in here is I have all the time in the world to bother people. I believe I've found something that you...would be quite interested in."
I sat up unconsciously.
Ultear and Meredy had been looking out for whispers. But there were a different breed of secrets to be found in the places Jude usually spent his time.
Not an acquaintance.
Morgana cautioned me softly. I looked at Jude again and saw that there was an edge of old sadness to him. A melancholy that was heightened by his reminder of mortality. He spoke with a slightly choked tone.
"In...Layla's personal effects. There was a journal. Not hers, her grandmothers, I believe. There she made mention of a long standing promise their family made. And they mention Fairy Tail in connection with it. Given the date, your guild can only have been newly formed at the time. But it seems that our families have been involved before."
He gave a brave, regretful smile. The man had spent years working to build trust with our guild after the Phantom Lord thing. And while those who had stuck around still remembered, I felt that most everyone had forgiven him. But he had not yet forgiven himself. For that, or for how he and his daughter had only recently begun to try and mend bridges between them, before Tenrou happened.
He's only as close to us as we are now because we're the last connection to Lucy. And she's his last tie to Layla.
"I had the journal and some similar effects recovered from my wife's estate. If you have the time to review them, I can send them to you."
In the family, Jude had actually married into the Heartfilia name, taking it on from his wife. He had brought in money and status with his business, but the Heartfilia name was old. And their long standing status as a clan of Celestial Spirit summoners meant that their history was not a straightforward read. Some of the spirits could be enormously protective over their summoner's memories, and it showed in the heavily redacted gaps I would get reviewing some of them.
"I'm between contracts. I can look it over."
"Then you'll take your scholarly fee and not complain about it." The man said tartly, giving me a stern look that made me want to fidget like a toddler. "I'm not about to have you be uncompensated for good work."
We were silent for a moment. A familiar tension entering the room. The entryway to a mutual game we played of bantering with one another. But to a very different end than normal.
Should I...? He is supposed to be resting...
He is currently in no duress. The act might very well soothe him. It certainly will ease some of his stinging pride.
"...Business is broken down to a basic level as an exchange of goods and services. You are providing me goods in the form of historical connections to research for a personal project. Thus, I have no issue in providing in exchange the service of documenting the Heartfilia clan's history. As this is something I am searching for, it will be given at a discounted rate of the usual service fees."
We had done this before. And it had occurred frequently over the last several years.
I was of the opinion that Jude gave too much. No matter how much he spent or sacrificed, it wouldn't magically repair his relationship with Lucy. It would help bolster it when she returned, but it wouldn't fix it. I didn't want him to run into the cognitive dissonance that would come when she came back. So I had established boundaries. If Jude wanted to give Fairy Tail money, we had to provide a service for him.
Well, Jude was Lucy's father. I had met mountains that would give out before she did when her mind was made up. And he had the double benefit of much more experience in that way. His eyes glinted, green and lively, but his face settled into a polite businesslike mask.
"It's quite generous of you to offer a discount. As I understand it the curator of the National Museum of Magical History has not been able to secure such a deal."
Because Simon had decided he didn't like the curator. He assumed I was a naive, genius child and would look at the disproportionately large salary offered if I hired on as a researcher and jump on it. Instead, Morgana and Simon had both caught that this salary was locked in for three years before a review was pending and my commissions from the academic papers would get a massive cut taken by the museum. Even the ones I published prior to the contract we signed.
Simon now as a rule was deliberately facetious whenever anything came from that curator. And I had had minimal contact with him after that fact. He was not the only person who viewed me as malleable and therefore exploitable just because of my age.
The day when I am viewed as an actual adult cannot come soon enough.
I had secured three honorary degrees for my work with the Nirvit's, the development of the Archive-Unison Raid theory, and the analysis of the Edolas Harvester magi-ecological footprint. And still so many people just saw my age and assumed it would be easy to manipulate me.
"Oh he tries. Quite a lot actually. But it is my prerogative to discount my work whenever it suits me."
"And it is in my interest as a businessman and your patron to ensure that the value of your work remains high."
Jude did get a finder's fee from various clients he brought into contact with Fairy Tail. It was barely anything in comparison to his overall net worth, but it was still nothing to sneeze at. And the fee was based on the work that Fairy Tail did for the client. The bigger the job that they needed done, or the bigger the payout of said job, the bigger the fee that came his way.
"If it becomes too exclusive, it will shrink the reachable market and negatively impact profits going forward."
"A period of exclusivity helps drive up demand."
"A positive reputation in the business world impacts success as much as supply and demand."
"Well the-"
Jude cut off with a harsh cough and I waited for his breathing to settle again. But the playful, light hearted feeling that had been brought in by the banter was broken. He gave me a mildly irritated look.
"This doesn't mean that you win."
I wanted to argue again. But doing that with a man who was literally bedridden for a heart condition...
Which is the nobler action here? Let him pay me when he's a friend by now. Or not argue and let him rest?
I chose to let the matter rest. Jude needed to keep his pride, because that would bolster his spirit. And if his spirits were high, he would recover more quickly from his upcoming surgery.
"Fine. I'll await your contract."
-vVv-
The Heartfilia clan was even more awe-inspiring than I had realized.
They had been Celestial Spirit summoners longer than some countries had existed. And they had consistently been practicing wizards every single generation. Not all of them were as open about their work as Lucy, they hardly ever became professional wizards who used magic to earn a living.
But it was still an impressive history.
Lucy had broken a family record for Gold Keys that had agreed to contract with her. In fact, some of them didn't have the capability to contract Zodiac Spirits due to a lack of inheirant magic power, and the lack of opportunity in finding the all spirits were agreeable to being kept within the same family, so they would take thor own key and place it somewhere else for a new summoner to find. Or to give them some time to grieve the loss of their wizard. And yet Lucy held contracts with, last I counted, ten of them. And had been working up to summon two golden spirits at the same time. Which took a massive amount of power.
Happily absorbed in my study friend's family history, I hunted for the clues I was after.
The last document I found that mentioned the Dragon Seed referenced an event some Four hundred years ago, and it happened to coincide with the last mentions of dragons living in Fiore.
-vVv-
"You've got a look to you."
Eric observed from across the table, sitting with an easy relaxed posture.
"You're not just picking thoughts out of my head anymore?"
"Doesn't help if I can't understand the words you're using. None of that is Common."
"It is. It's just an antiquated form of Common. No more than a couple of centuries. There really was a considerable linguistic shift that took place around that time. It's fascinating!"
The Poison Dragon Slayer shook his head.
"It's finally happened. Princess, are you getting bored of me? You came all this way and you're still thinking about work."
It's not work, you over dramatic, overpriced snake skin purse. It's me making sure that something can't happen. And being way too invested in something I'm passionate about.
Tiptoeing around a particular subject inside my own mind took work. And even now, I avoided letting my thoughts drift towards the taboo subject. Eric huffed, mildly peeved.
"I should never have taught you how to think around something."
"You didn't. This came naturally."
I was turning over a plan for another totem in my mind. I should have the chance to find the materials I was after to complete it on my next planned trip. The image of the scenery I had studied and terrain I would be exploring.
"Fae, why are you looking for a thunderbird?"
"Materials."
The man across the table from me seemed to stiffen, his smile getting a little brittle.
"How long until my parole hearing again?"
"January."
"And you're making this trip in...?"
I grinned unrepentantly.
"October."
He glowered at me.
"You planned this."
"Of course I did. I need a thunderbird feather. Preferably one that is donated." I had been working with a Doctor Dolittle totem, in the form of a really snazzy, formal top hat. And I was getting pretty good at switching between various animal languages. Ideally, I would get the thunderbird to give me a few feathers as a sample. Just walking into their nest and taking them would be like going in and stealing someone's hair once it had fallen out. Rude and creepy at the same time.
Eric sighed, rubbing the scar by his eye as he usually did when contemplating something. He gave me a look I knew well. Simon got the same look whenever I took a job outside of Fiore, or when Kagura took a major monster hunting job.
He worries for you. And about you.
Morgana voice was touched with appreciation. I caught a flicker of a micro-expression on his face. A smile. He had heard Morgana's words. She softly added his own words, deliberately communicated in a way that I was pretty certain only we could manage.
'Damn right I do, my princess.'
And now I was getting choked up. Great.
"You're being careful."
"Always."
He pressed for more from me, determined to get what concessions he could get from me.
"By Wendy's standards?"
That I had to think back over the last couple of months before I nodded to confirm.
Wendy had attained the whopping height of five feet and three inches. And another metaphorical three feet in authority when it came to enforcing safety and proper first aid in our guild mates. She gave mandatory guild lectures on identifying and treating basic injuries and ailments so there wouldn't be advanced infections due to someone screwing up their emergency treatment. Vijeeter had avoided Wendy for a few days too long after a minor laceration. He had gotten sepsis, basically everything that could go wrong with an infected wound, and he had come far closer to death than our resident mother dragon ever wanted us to be.
Since that had happened, no one dared skip out on her seminars. And I was no exception. Unless I was out of the country. Wendy gave me a pass then as long as I completed the requisite homework she assigned.
"Yes."
"...Well not like I can do anything from here. Just don't expect to get away with it once I'm outta here."
"Yeah yeah, it's part of the deal. I know."
Eric was a useful asset. He had access to a rare branch of Magic, Dragon Slayer, with a unique element. He could read minds, was immune to any and all types of poison or toxin, and could self synthesize anti-venom for the most lethal toxins known to man. Including the custom made ones that were made to not have an antidote. That and he was remarkably disease resistant so there was talk, once Wendy could get a proper analysis, of Eric being able to move forward study on things like vaccines and cures for any number of viral and bacterial infections. His body was literally perfectly adapted to take whatever was attacking him and turn it into strength
Point was, he was valuable. And rules were such that they couldn't take any blood samples from him since he was incarcerated. That meant that those interested in exploring those possibilities didn't want to keep him in jail forever.
Three things were in our favor of getting Eric placed with us for parole. First: thanks to Wendy and her students, we were now deeply involved in the medical field. Second: Fairy Tail might not have the same fighting reputation, but we had survived and made advancements in many fields as well as gotten a lot of good publicity. Third: The reason was also mostly Wendy. She had the best shot of countering any poison Eric could produce. Said Dragon Slayer was giving me a big grin. He seemed to be looking forward to our imminently being attached at the hip for anything and everything work related for the next few years.
Fourth, I devised a new means of devising a magic suppression pattern of runes, I was considered a good candidate to manage an ex-convict Dragon Slayer while he was going to be working as a wizard. In other words,I was going to be Eric's assigned parole officer. Any job he took as a wizard, had to be with my supervision.
"Don't you ever forget it, princess. You pulled me out of that life. You had better take responsibility for me."
"You are a grown man and do not need a teenager telling you what to do."
"And you are a teenager with concerning hobbies who needs at least some adult supervision."
I put on a look as if I were offended, but was concealing a laugh.
"You take that back! It has been years since my last near death experience!"
October X790
I had not been lying to Eric. I had gone down to look for a thunderbird feather.
And to meet with Ultear without as much need for discretion.
She raised a brow when she saw me, I grinned at her and reached up to give her a quick hug.
"You look like you've been busy."
Her tactful way of inquiring about your appearance.
My hair was a frizzy mess that I wrangled into a knot with a few pens holding it back. And of course, the top hat which now looked a lot more weathered than it had when I left fiore only two weeks prior. I wore sturdy outdoor clothes, I had dust on my boots, a few scratches on my cheek and I knew I was smiling like an idiot.
"Magical bird species are amazingly smart. And while thunderbirds are actually much more adept at making rain than generating lightning, I can confirm that they are not misnamed by any stretch of the imagination."
"Very busy." Ultear said delicately, settling down to the food I had ordered for her prior to her arrival. I had corroborated with Morgana to determine when she would get here. And what to order. "I'm glad you look none the worse for wear."
"Cloudburst and I reached an agreement. It was touch and go at first, but we worked it out."
The six winged thunderbird was territorial and touchy about an unknown being flying in his territory. I challenged him several times by just skirting around the edge of his territory, lured him into a race, and played with him repeatedly over several days. When he came out of the sky first, I knew that I had won a concession from him. And our negotiations went from there. I would even say we were tentative friends. I would definitely want to swing back down to say hello every now and then. Maybe go flying with him. Observing how he flew had been a pleasure and helped me memorize a new wing pattern.
"That aside, I did have something I wanted to talk to you about. Something different."
New stuff is good too!
"Lay it on me."
"First, you are going to finish your food. Then and only then will I talk."
I gave her a pout.
"You've been talking to Wendy."
No, she has not. But she has raised a young woman who can get very passionate and invested in her work, much like you.
She was probably right that I needed to eat. So I shrugged and settled down.
"Alright, talk and eat?" She nodded meaningfully at the plate in front of me and a well marked notebook. The plate hadn't really been touched but the notebook had a page and a half of fresh writing in it.
"Fae."
I sent the book flying ba jck into my bag with a snap of my fingers and a sigh. Two thin rings with carved runic script circling them, filling with pale lacrima dust and sealed with a clear, magic stable resin. An experiment to let me have general telekinetic control over items weighing under 20lbs within arms reach of me. Thus far, they were working out wonderfully for general manipulation, holding a book or turning pages, but I needed my hands for my fine motor control, writing or drawing.
"Fine."
I already knew that with my focus broken I would find that I was much more hungry than I had previously felt. So I willingly sat and had lunch with Ultear, and didn't talk about work for a while. I showed Ultear Asuka's latest picture. Posing with her popgun and a hat that looked much like the one Bisca used to wear.
Doesn't matter how bad or tough someone is: they can still melt for a picture of a cute kid.
Romeo's graduation from the local Magical Academy, standing arm in arm with his father. He was already wearing a warm ochre scarf knotted around his neck and the sleeveless top that was very obviously in tribute to Natsu. Even his expression looked kinda similar.
"Look at him, got his guild stamp and everything."
Ultear's smile was soft and warm.
She recognizes the similarities.
"Yeah. He asked if we wanted to get ours together."
I felt the Arc of Time user's eyes trace over my arms, which were still bare.
"I was made a promise that I intend to collect on."
Natsu was going to give me my guild mark. My bet on my being right and they would come home one day.
"Of course."
That did bring us back to a relatively close to pertinent topic and Ultear seemed to decide that we had made smalltalk for long enough.
"Arc of Time is an old magic. Lost Magic. It was taught in the ancient school of magic in Mildian."
"I've heard of it. It's thought that early Magic Users on this continent would sacrifice to the extreme to be able to go there."
Magic was accepted in Fiore as long as 700 years ago, but that was partially out of necessity. The intense concentrations of ethernano made their emergence inevitable. And also made it the permanent dragon residents incredibly strong. Wizards were the only thing that could potentially drive a dragon away. Or be annoying enough that they would leave the area. So in that time newly awakened wizards would scrimp, save and bend over backwards to get a magical teacher. And Fiore had only an apprenticeship program to teach new wizards. Mildian had an Academy. It was simply more likely that a new wizard would get a full education, and thus a better means of survival, if they found a way to get admitted there.
"Yes. It's not been used in several centuries. There was a surge of dark magic in the area that killed most of the students and faculty. Those that survived fled south and became the founders of the Alveraz Empire."
The onset of the Curse of Contradictions.
That...that was important.
That's where it started? That's where Zeref was cursed?
Strong likelihood. Concrete confirmation not possible with current knowledge.
"That was likely Zeref."
Was there an earlier instance of the Curse of Contradictions entering an active phase?
Not from Zeref's curse.
That made it very likely that Zeref had first been cursed at Mildian.
Have you ever been there?"
The dark haired woman nodded looking pensive.
"I have been. My...mentor sent me there when I was fifteen to locate Arc of Time."
"Did he know that's where Zeref's origin story began?"
"Until I met you Fae, there wasn't anyone else who could corroborate or debunk what we knew about the man at the time. Beyond the legends, no one really knows where the Black Wizard came from."
I wondered why no one had ever tried to find out where he came from. Even the nut jobs like Grimorie Heart were only interested in the power and things he did. Not where he was actually from.
Adjusting perspective: You are a person highly interested in academic pursuits with relatively low ambition for personal power.
Right, right, that...Also possible that no one ever thought he actually had a place that he came from. That's a trait we commonly associate with people. Not nightmares.
Still, this was fascinating to learn, though it would be unwise to make an open study of Zeref. People tended to get uncomfortable if they thought you were researching the Black Wizard.
"But finding out about his life prior to him becoming cursed could lead to understanding why he was cursed. And if I knew I could-"
"Break his curse?" Ultear set down her glass gently, contemplating... "Fae, why are you so invested in breaking the curse of a man who by all accounts has the highest body count in the world?"
"Because, he is at risk of becoming everything that the stories make him out to be."
The older woman gestured gently.
"And?"
I gathered my thoughts. It was something I had considered. And something that was difficult to articulate.
"It's a lot of little things that are adding up. What got me started was of course Tenrou. Zeref was on Tenrou Island, a place only Fairy Tail was supposed to know existed, never mind visit. Why was he there?"
"We never found out."
"Of course not. Your goal was to find him, everything else was just fluff. Second thing: Zeref who most of the world ascribes to being the kind to cheerfully murder babies, kick puppies, do every sort of depraved thing possible...Burst into tears when he saw someone was on Tenrou with him, begged them to leave, and tried to run from them first and foremost. All this happened moments before the Curse of Contradictions activated and tried to kill everything in a twenty foot radius. Except for Zeref."
Ultear nodded, fingers drawing an abstract pattern on the table and repairing a scratch in the varnished wood with a small gesture.
"That was my experience with him as well. He had no malice or control of his own considerable power. Or he didn't at first."
"The Curse of Contradictions comes when a wizard pushes too far at the boundaries of life. If someone, like a necromancer, would violate that boundary, the curse would grant him that influence over life. In proportion to the respect he has for it."
"A respect Zeref had."
"But no control." I swept my hand over the table, creating an interactive map of Fiore that had all the places where we had ascertained Zeref had been at some point, and had released a surge of death energy, which I was referring to a Death Knell.
"All these places here? The common factor in all of them is they are placed away from settlements of people."
"He avoided them."
"Like the plague. He spent the most time up here in Nirvit territory. Which makes sense, they were building Nirvana fto try and mitigate his curse. But he also spent a considerable amount of time down here."
I circled a general area on Fiore. A familiar one. Where I had mostly grown up.
"Fairy Tail territory."
"This, plus him being on Tenrou makes me think that he had some involvement with Fairy Tail at some point in history."
Ultear sighed, propping her chin in her hand
"So that's it...Simon is going to find a way to blame me for this."
The complete non-sequitur threw me for a considerable loop.
"Why would he do that?"
They communicated on Simon's 'Dark Net' when Ultear had something that she wanted to pass to us. I knew they talked sometimes. Being the type of people who had functionally raised adolescent girls, and their history of unwilling initial involvement with Dark Guilds, I could imagine they had a lot to talk about.
"You've imprinted on a legendary mass murderer and are treating him as if he were a guildmate or friend."
That...does make sense. Sort of. Still don't get why Simon would blame Ultear. I would cheerfully admit I would find a way to make the world spin backward if it would help one of my friends. But it wasn't just that.
"Fair, and probably not entirely wrong. He's a victim of the Curse that he is under. And I think he...earned the curse and the power that it gives him by doing something incredible. Unheard of."
Ultear was a smart woman. She knew her way around forbidden magics. It didn't take long for her dark eyes to widen.
"Resurrection. He tried to resurrect someone."
I shook my head.
"There aren't many recorded instances of that curse. And by 'not many' I mean maybe three vague allusions to it that I can find outside of the Nirvit history I have access to. If the Absolute of Death is not crossed, no curse follows. Zeref didn't just try, he did it. He raised someone from the dead."
All resurrection in most every story took power and purity. But according to what I knew, it wasn't just that. It took a deep profound love for life, and all things in it. And the kind of devotion it would take to focus all that magic on a single person? It was awe inspiring and couldn't leave me anything but touched.
Ultear's face was suddenly bone white.
"A successful resurrection...The power that would take. Who- how-?"
"'Who' is a very important question. Someone he valued above his own life. Who he loved enough to break, or at the very least bend in the extreme, one of the Absolute Laws."
She would know exactly how hard it was to even touch Time the way she did. And that was affecting inorganic, non-sentient matter with minimal touching on affecting people. And putting into perspective that the last instance we had of this scale of working took 20+ wizards all unified in their desire to protect each other.
"So if you figure out who he resurrected-"
"It's that much closer to resolving the curse. Because it has to be resolved. A very kind, loving person has been in self imposed isolation for four hundred years, on penalty of indiscriminately causing death around him and destroying what he values the most. The only way that he can control that power, is by not caring about who it hurts."
She swallowed audibly, the guilt flooding her system and coloring the air around her dark to my vision. She felt responsible for 'waking' Zeref by pushing him into unleashing the Curse.
"The neat solution would be to kill him."
"The Curse won't allow that. Whether to the absolution of his pain, or the termination of his life: The Curse of Contradictions has to be broken first."
Jan X791
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
I didn't jump. But it was a close thing. I did turn very quickly towards the speaker. Sting was looking rather frazzled. And there was a faint trace of blood in the air.
"Did you just get off of a job?"
"Stop dodging my question with another question. What are you doing out here in the middle of January?"
Out here being the outskirts of Fiore, not too far away from our Fidelius location. I was field testing my camping supplies.
"Eric just got out on parole." The poles of the tent I was putting up were held up by my telekinetic hold as I tugged the tent material over it.
"And you're out here?"
"He doesn't have a place to stay yet and his girlfriend was very happy to see him. I've learned my lesson and I'm not testing my filter like that. So, camping!"
He gave an audible sigh, running his hand through his hair.
"Ok, fair. But no one knew where you were, and it kinda freaked me out. Or if Simon knew, he wasn't telling me. I'm pretty sure most of your guild hates me."
"And a lot of your guild really doesn't like me either, so we're square."
It may be a tiny bit of an oversight to not ward my camp since I was still supposed to be mad at him. But it had been...months. Sting's ash blond hair was getting longer, and he still had an apparent aversion to wearing layers. His fur lined vest may have been for warmth or it may have been an aesthetic choice. But he was showing more skin than any reasonable person would in January. But I knew he would be running as hot as ever thanks to the constant intake from the sunlight around him.
Dang. I missed him.
Sting was never afraid to question or call me out. He was always willing to listen to a theory, or me ramble about literally anything. He had tolerated being a stand in for a mockup of several totems. For my last birthday, he had painstakingly filled a lacrima mold to give me Light and Holy aligned magic to use in totem creation. He filled an important role in my life. One I wasn't willing to have vacant for any longer.
Considering how much I disliked holding grudges, it was quite...impressive that I had held out for this long. A tight knot of tension I had been carrying since the summer visibly loosened.
"Want to give me a hand? The girls will be coming out later for a bonfire."
He hesitated, looking at me with a nuggets of suspicion.
"You didn't boobytrap your tent to turn me green or something, did you?"
"Not this time."
The White Dragon Slayer cautiously stepped closer, boots crunching in the thin layer of snow I had left to cover the ground of my campsite.
"You didn't let me even come close to you for months. Are we cool now?"
I looked at him levelly.
"Sting I don't think we ever could be cool as long as you believe that you killed Weiss."
His shoulders slumped faintly and he scowled, frustration making a visible tick mark appear on his head. It looked comical.
"It's what I remember happening."
"We have a memory mage who could make you remember having a picnic on the moon. Your dragon is dead, I can't argue that point, your lacrima proves that you were at the very least around when it happened."
The angry tick mark faded, grey eyes met mine with a quiet, sullen sadness. Grief he wouldn't let himself feel.
"So what's wrong with my version?"
"The idea that you as a four year old were not just capable of killing, but of killing someone you loved. You wouldn't have been then. You aren't even now. You could never do that and live with yourself afterward."
A heavy silence fell between us. We finished setting up the tent without it faltering. I had put up three in total, of various sizes. I'd check them all tomorrow for leaks, damage and any enchantment touch upstairs that might be needed. Though I probably could have had Morgana do it in hindsight.
Sting fell in beside me, his breath misting white in the chilly air as he sighed.
"You're right."
I almost started bawling in relief as the last of my discomfort vanished as he loosened his hold on his ironclad certainty. That conflict had been like nails on a chalkboard to me. Sting loved and valued his family over everything. But he didn't let his family grow very large. I would say I was part of it. Maybe Wendy and Kagura were too. Rogue certainly was. I saw a glimpse of him with Frosch and a magenta-white Exceed, who I assumed was his friend. He would burn down the world to keep them safe.
He would never turn away from them. From...us.
Abandonment issues: once again, I recommend seeing a therapist.
I didn't ignore Morgana often. And this time was not an exception.
I'll bring it up with Simon.
He is not a therapist.
Close enough.
"I know you need something to believe. I'm sorry for taking that away. I'll find out what happened-."
"Don't worry about it, Fae."
The White Slayer gave me a grin that only showed a little bit of brittle uncertainty.
"Knowing you, you'll trip over it kicking around some dusty temple. I'll find out the truth eventually." He punched me gently in the arm. "Until then, don't complain when I show up for an affirmation."
I managed an answering grin, ready to make the conversation light hearted again.
"So needy."
"I am not. I'm taking up your position in this argument."
"You mean, you concede defeat and that makes it my lead. Still."
He huffed, but there was a gleam back in his eye now.
"You are asking for it, Fairy Princess. You know picking a fight with a dragon is a bad idea."
Sting had loved the phrase 'meddle not in the affairs of dragons, for you are crunchy and good with ketchup.' All three of my dragons liked it.
"Fight? No, this isn't a fight, Glitterbug. It's a game. And you...are...it!"
I flicked his nose and quickly leapt out of his reach. He seemed a little flummoxed but a smile started to brew below the surface, eyes intent on me.
"You want me to chase you? You're asking to get hunted by a dragon."
He seemed very pleased with this, I saw him shifting subtly, ready to pounce and run after me.
"Yep!"
"You really are insane.."
"Insane? No, no, this is me being generous."
We started to circle each other, Morgana softly humming through the likeliest tactics Sting would use to try and tag me.
"Generous? You finally planning on letting me catch you, fairy princess?"
I scoffed, giving him an answering grin.
"Not a chance, boy."
"Good. It wouldn't be like you to make things easy."
He glowed faintly as the faint winter sunlight started to coalesce on his skin. A more focused and determined display that his usual errant glitters. He was ready.
"If I wanted easy, I'd be the one chasing you down. You wouldn't stand a chance."
I broke into a run, ducking through the trees. I heard a faint scuff and a stumble. Morgana interpreted it with Sting standing frozen in shock, staring after me with a vaguely concussed expression for a few seconds, trying to run, tripping and then finally hitting his stride.
Saving memory. File name redacted.
Um, sure but why?
Rea-sons.
Morgana's voice glitches slightly. But she felt only amused, not annoyed as if something malicious was hiding from me under a technicality or tricky bit of wording.
It's probably not that important. It'll come to me later.