Chapter 96:

"Porlyusica thinks she's found a way to disincorporate the lacrima from your body," Makarov said, puffing on his pipe and sending smoke rings spiraling up to the kitchen ceiling. Laxus didn't respond, he was too busy pretending the smell of Gramp's tobacco was making his migraine worse. He took a sip of coffee, hoping maybe the caffeine would help. It didn't.

He felt like he could hardly breathe from the thickness of the air around them. He'd dreaded Gramps even coming over in the first place. Laxus hadn't felt well since Gajeel left the day before and the morning had already been rough. He knew he was pale, his hands shaky, and he was trying so hard to keep it hidden from his grandfather. But Gramps had insisted on coming over and now he knew why.

"It's good news," he continued, his voice swinging up as if sounding more cheerful might yield him a better response, "Means we can remove it soon."

Laxus made a leaden noise and took care to ignore the impulse to rub his scar. He could feel Gramps's stare and refused to acknowledge it. The tension between them was palpable, throbbing along with Laxus's head. Finally, Gramps boiled over.

"I know it's not what you want..."

"Gramps..." Laxus warned weakly, still not willing to look at him.

"...but it's for the best."

"What if it isn't?"

"Laxus, you can't be serious."

"We don't know it's draining me. What if it's something else?" Laxus defended, clenching his fist in an effort to try to stay calm.

"Like what, Laxus? What else could it possibly be?" Gramps snapped. His voice was starting to tremble and Laxus could already see the benign light begin to edge into his vision from where the old man's rage began to get the better of him.

"I don't know," he gritted out through his teeth, "but it doesn't make sense, does it? That's not how lacrimas work. I know ya hate the damn thing, but..."

"Even Porlyusica thinks it's the lacrima's doing," his voice ticked up to not quite a yell and it rang in Laxus's ears, scattering his thoughts. He flinched and heard Gramps dither in response, trying to reign his emotions back in, "Please, Laxus, see reason..."

"I'm seeing reason. I did my research, didn't I?"

"And what did you find? Anything that would make you think otherwise?" he stormed, blowing out an ample amount of smoke alongside his words.

Laxus glared at the floor, "It's my decision, ain't it? It ain't inside you, it's in me."

"And you expect me to just stand by and watch as it kills you?" he demanded, raging now.

"What kind of a life are you leavin' me, Gramps?" Laxus yelled back, snapping his gaze towards him, "Have you even considered...?"

"That you might not be a wizard any longer? Yes, I have!"

"And you're ok with that? You're ok if I'm just... just...!"

"Yes, Laxus, of course I am!" Gramp's voiced hitched with distress and he held up his hands like he was at a loss, "I love you! You're my grandson! I'd love you if you were a normal man, if you were a Wizard Saint; I'd love you even if you joined a dark guild! If I loved you after you unleashed the Thunder Palace, why wouldn't I love you if you weren't a wizard at all?!"

A pang of guilt and agony flushed through Laxus's chest but Gramp's words hurt too much to accept. He knew he was being selfish, that he only felt this way because he was scared and disappointed, but he couldn't stop.

"That's easy for you, Gramps! This is my life! Everything I've built!"

Didn't he understand that Laxus was the only one losing in this? Didn't he have a right to resist? To rage against this fate? He didn't want this! He wasn't ready to accept it.

"And you'd rather no life at all?!"

Laxus was on his feet in an instant, "It's better than...!" Whoa...

Black and white spotted his vision and he was dizzy. He winced and tried to push through the smell of copper as his head swam. He caught himself on the back of his chair and glared at the ground. Gramps was still yelling, concern and grief spidering through his voice.

"Look at you, Laxus, you can barely stand!"

"I'm fine!" Laxus lied through his teeth.

"You're getting worse!"

"I'm not getting worse!" what a lame argument. He couldn't even think straight enough to make a good defense.

"I am not going to stand by and watch my only grandson die because I wasn't strong enough to fix this in the beginning!"

The silence that settled between them made Laxus want to choke. Goddammit, what was he supposed to say? Gramps's eyes were swelling and turning red, his teeth clenched tight enough to snap his pipe in half. All of the anger and resentment fueling Laxus's obstinance disintegrated in the wake of such a raw display. This wasn't the first time he'd made his grandfather so distressed that he'd broken down. The only difference was last time he'd only seen his back. He didn't want to waver, to show weakness. It took so much strength to just set his jaw and hold his glare, to refuse to budge...

"Pardon the intrusion..." Davian was standing in the kitchen doorway, his bag over his shoulder. He shifted on his feet uncomfortably, looking pointedly at his watch, "I did knock."

"Yes, I, um... so sorry. We were just um..." Gramps cleared his throat and pulled on a half-hearted smile, "Ma-Major Bishop, was it? Not here on official business, I hope?"

"Here on invite, actually," he smiled courteously back.

"Right... of course," Gramps glanced over to Laxus, "We'll talk more about this... later."

"Yeah, Gramps," he muttered, "I'll see you at the guild."

Laxus waited to hear the door shut before letting out a tense sigh.

"Sorry."

"Arguments happen," Davian replied simply, wandering his way into the kitchen. He hesitated for a moment before clearing his throat, "You, um, you don't look... well."

"Thanks," Laxus replied scathingly.

Davian cleared his throat awkwardly again.

"Well, I just finished a sixteen-hour train ride and would love something to eat-" he began clumsily, "-and you seem in the type of spirits that seldom brings good when left to fester."

Laxus raised a brow at him, "You don't ask people to lunch often, do you?"

Davian crossed his arms, "I tend to spend my time alone… until recently."

"Sounds refreshing."

"Oh, it was," Davian affirmed, completely disregarding his sarcasm, "and so simple. You have not the slightest idea of how taxing it is to fit in as little as I do."

Laxus dared a grin, "Maybe you should people watch more. Get some pointers."

"What a marvelous idea," he was flipping his hand about as he spoke and followed after Laxus as he slouched his way towards the door, "We'll add watching strangers to the list of unsettling things I do."

"Before or after color changing eyes?"

"Before, of course, if we're ranking by most unsettling to least."

"And where does morally-grey decision-making fall into place?"

"At one time I would have said towards the top," he sighed, shooting him a sly look, "but recent events have showed me an alarming amount of people are perfectly fine with dating murderers."

"Your personal experience is statistically inaccurate. Irena and I are outliers and shouldn't be considered in your data."

Davian smiled a large, wry smile, "I'm incredibly impressed you know what an outlier is."

"Just because I like to fight, doesn't mean I'm not smart, asshole."

"We keep coming to this and yet it amazes me every time," he chuckled.

They ended up at one of the nicer places in Magnolia, mostly because Laxus figured Davian would complain if they went anywhere else, but also because it was early in the afternoon and so he knew there would be few people. He wasn't in the mood to be seen by anyone from the guild because, well, just the honest truth was he really didn't look well. He looked like he probably needed to lay down, and the dull pins and tremors that plagued his legs as he walked seemed to agree. He told himself he just needed some food in him and a splash of one of Porlyusica's potions, and he'd be just fine.

There was actually no one else there, that Laxus could see, anyway, so the waitress sat them at a table very to themselves and away from the kitchen. They ordered and while they waited, Laxus pulled out one of the potions and downed it quickly. He didn't attempt to hide his distaste for it. The stuff was thick and tasted worse than a beer that had been left open in the sun all day, but he almost immediately began to feel better. The shakiness ebbed and he realized he was hungry, ravenously so. His migraine dulled to barely a nuisance and he didn't feel quite so feverish. He could practically feel Davian's eyes on him while he capped the empty bottle and dropped it into his satchel.

"I'm concerned," Davian stated flatly when Laxus levelled him with a glare that was supposed to seem very standoffish but turned out to be much too tired to accomplish that goal.

"Ain't everybody."

"What happened?" he asked outright, his worry finally forcing him to cave, "You were... well you were fine up until a month or so ago, weren't you?"

"Haven't been sleeping much."

"I hardly think poor sleeping habits has led to all this. You look like you're suffering from magic deficiency..." he blinked for a moment and when Laxus was silent his brow furrowed even more, "You... you are?"

Laxus just sort of sighed heavily, "Can we talk about something else?"

"Don't you know what's causing it? Certainly, potions can only get you so far..."

"Depends on who ya ask, really..." he crossed his arms and reclined back into his seat heavily, "Gramps and Porlyusica think it's my lacrima draining me but we can't really know for sure unless we take it out."

Davian seemed alarmed, "Is that... is that even possible?"

"Porlyusica thinks she's found a way that won't blind my eye so..." he shrugged, "Sure."

"Well that's... I mean that's good, correct? I suppose I don't understand... why is this so upsetting?"

"I didn'task you here to talk about this," Laxus snapped. He realized he was tapping his foot and so he forced himself to stop.

"Alright..." Davian said slowly. He did that thing he'd seen him do where he steepled his fingers and put up an impartial air about him. His eyes shifted from green to blue and it agitated Laxus that he felt the need to put up a front. He didn't exactly expect what Davian said next, "What do you think is causing this?"

Laxus glared him harshly but Davian didn't seem perturbed.

"It's quite clear you don't agree," he explained calmly, his edges going all straight and sharp and analytical, like he approaching Laxus as some sort of equation missing a variable, "So, I'd like to hear it. What do you think it is? How is this lacrima so important to you that you'd take the chance at death to keep it?"

Laxus went still. The truth was, he wasn't sure he had all of those answers. It was more gut feeling and what he thought was right... and the sphynx. He clicked his teeth and scowled at the table. He didn't want to get into this. Not again. So instead of giving Davian a response he was after, he repeated himself, firmly.

"I didn't ask you here to talk about this."

Davian studied him for a moment before finally leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms expectantly.

"As you wish, Mr. Dreyar," he said spitefully, an edge to his tone like he was approaching a rather provocative business adversary, "How is it that I might be of assistance to you, then?"

Laxus rolled his eyes and dug around into his satchel, procuring the book he'd taken from the library and sliding it towards him across the table. Davian's first reaction was a skeptical lift of his brow before his eyes centered on the insignia. He rocked forward in his seat, his fingers dancing lightly across the cover like he was afraid to touch it. His brows furrowed deeply and he eyed Laxus with dismayed suspicion.

"Where in Earthland did you get this?" he asked, running his thumb across the edge of the binding with a strange sort of reverence. When Laxus shrugged, Davian's voice turned condescending, "You don't even know what this is, do you?"

"I figured it was the same as whatever book you have..."

"It's a grimoire, Laxus," Davian interrupted, "How can you not know what a grimoire is?"

"Do I look like a witch to you?" Laxus snapped.

"Oros alive, you are obtuse," he muttered, "Witches aren't the only people who use grimoires."

"Right, yeah... because you have one," Laxus affirmed, "And you're not a witch. You're a..."

"Just call me a shaman. It suits your ignorance," Davian snarled.

"Listen, Davian, I just need to know what the damn thing says," he implored, "I... I think I was led to it but... hell I don't even know Draconic, let alone..."

"Oumic."

"Right. That."

Davian gave him a skeptical once over, his face settling in a decided frown as he thumbed at the corner of the cover, "You do know grimoires used to be all over the place. It was your lot that got rid of them. Do you know how priceless this is? And in this condition?"

"I know grimoires are rare. I'm not stupid," Laxus huffed, quickly growing impatient. "Listen, Davian, at this point, I'm really not above begging,"

"Then at least give me the courtesy of explaining how you fell into such a thing?" Davian replied matter-of-factly, "This practically belongs in a museum."

"I told you, I was led to it."

"Led to it? How?"

"I was at the Bloodwood Athenaeum-"

"You stole this from a library?!" Davian hissed.

"I would have loved to ask the librarian but he told me I wasn't allowed back... said some shit about how we weren't friends and made me leave."

"Was this before or after the thievery?"

"Please, Davian. I swear to Mavis herself, I'll take it back but first I have to know what it says. This is actually me begging..."

"Oros's teeth," Davian rolled his eyes in exasperation, but thankfully he finally lifted the cover, "How do you even know I'll be able to read it? Grimoires have existed since man first tried to conquer magic. For all I know this could be in... this could be... in..."

"It's Oumic, right?" Laxus said smugly.

"Yes..." Davian said slowly. He shook his head slightly, disbelieving, "How did you...? This... oh gods, this is old..."

"How can you tell?"

"Look at these... look at these..." Davian seemed enraptured, gently lifting pages and turning them like he was afraid the contact would make it disintegrate. Laxus leaned atop the table and looked, but it didn't help him understand any more. It was beautifully illustrated, accentuated on each page with gold ink. There were dozens of different sigils and circles, all of them written in gold and some of them resembling magic circles he was familiar with. Depicted, too, were all sorts of men and beasts, even dragons, doing all sorts of things. Laxus thought one of the pictures showed bloodletting, herbalism, preparing instruments, different hand gestures...

Laxus furrowed his brow, "Why do they look like they're having sex?"

The picture Davian had landed on showed two people, one on top of the other, in a position that had to be missionary – Laxus was sure there was nothing else for it to be – along with different colored candles and sigils. One Laxus recognized symbolized power. He'd witnessed Freed research into it help his rune magic before, but the others he didn't know.

Davian gave him an extremely unamused look, and in a tone dripping with pretension, he said, "That's because they are."

"Let's just take a minute to remember I can't read this thing and have only ever seen a grimoire in person maybe twice before this..." Laxus snarled, "I do know that sex magic is something people do, Davian."

"Oh, do you?" Davian smiled ruefully.

"Yes, I do. Maybe I just don't get why it would be in a grimoire."

Davian gave him a hard look for a moment, clearly determining if he believed what Laxus was saying, before he finally softened, "Because it's a ritual and – although I'm sure I don't need to explain because you're ever so knowledgeable of the topic – grimoires contain rituals."

Laxus wrinkled his nose because the next page had even more illustrations. Different positions, more sigils...

"Think maybe the author was a little obsessed."

He jolted a little when Davian laughed, "Oh, you poor dear, this is mild."

Laxus blinked at him, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Davian had a self-satisfied grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, "This isn't even going into bodily fluids. I'm sure that's next."

"Bodily fluids?"

"If you're scared of menstrual blood, sex magic might be something you'd be inclined to avoid," at this point, Laxus was sure Davian was just trying to mess with him, because his eyes were flashing gold and brimming with mischief.

"Fuck off."

"How much more chaotic and beautiful can you get than a woman's natural ability to create a being? Men for ages have been so obsessed with finding the secret to creating life, but can only ever be able to alter what already exists, build constructs, create fallacies of cognizance. And yet, here women naturally sustain life, and have done so since the dawn of humanity..." Davian leaned into his palm, "What could be a more powerful, innately magical, substance to work with than that very thing that creates life?"

"Why do I get the feeling you're serious..."

"Deadly," Davian hummed, flipping the page.

Laxus leaned on his crossed arms, watching quietly as Davian flipped through pages, eyes skimming. It really wasn't his business – it really wasn't his business – but his curiosity was piqued anyway. His eyes flashed over to what he could see of Davian's neck, nicely covered by one of his high collars. Even in the middle of summer, the man wore long sleeves, hiding most of his skin so he couldn't really get a look to see if he had any marks from Irena...

"What is it?" Davian grumbled, not looking up at him.

"Hm?" Laxus said as innocently as he could manage.

"You are staring a hole in my head, I can feel it," he mumbled towards the paper.

Laxus coughed, feeling his face start to heat up, "It's not important."

Davian finally tore his eyes from the page long enough to look at him. His face almost immediately turned into a scowl, "Whatever is in your head, now?"

"It's none of my business."

He curled his lip in a grimace, "Oros's Death and Rebirth, do I want to know?"

"Have you done this...?" Laxus asked probably too quickly, waving at the book.

"Am I to assume you're referring to sex magic?" he was eyeing him critically.

Laxus felt like his skin was getting hotter, "Well, yeah."

"Certainly not," he tutted. Laxus opened his mouth but thought better of it. Davian's attention was focused on him, though, so it definitely didn't go unnoticed, "Gods alive, you're so impertinent. I'm a virgin, was that what you were wanting to know?"

"Not really."

Davian stared at him again. His eyes glanced down to the book and back to him and Laxus groaned when Davian narrowed his eyes as realization hit him, "You... you want to do this?"

"Davian..."

"This is taboo, you know that, correct? Do you think it's just coincidence they named a dark guild Grimoire Heart?" he sounded scandalized but his eyes were flashing with gold again, "Is this curiosity? Because, first of all, that is worse than ignorance. It's outright disrespect."

"It's not curiosity!" Laxus snapped.

Davian's eyes bored into him, a snarl creeping across his face, "Laxus Dreyar, are you really going to do the incredible disservice of lying to my face?"

"Fucks sakes, fine, it's sort of curiosity, but not because I want to try something new in bed, alright?" he defended, "And it's not just this, ok? I mean... yes, because I think I could actually do this. But, if I had some alternatives, I'd... well, I'd be open to them."

Davian again looked from Laxus to the book. He squinted.

"My magic is limited, Davian," Laxus let out a taxed breath, folding, "I'm running out of options."

"Explain."

"What do you mean, explain?" Laxus snapped, "I did."

"Oh, no, you most certainly did not," Davian pressed, "You ask me to take a train halfway across Fiore where I find you looking like a day-old corpse, give me probably the oldest and most comprehensive grimoire I've ever seen saying you were led to it, and then ask me what I know about a ritual so you can cast it? At no point have you done a bit of explaining. And if you want my help dabbling into something dangerous you clearly know nothing about, I require an apt explanation. So, start talking, Laxus Dreyar, or this little find of yours might as well have been a breadcrumb."

Laxus opened his mouth to snarl something back at him but the waitress stepped up to the table, profusely apologizing for the wait, and asking for their order. Both men immediately brought their argument down to a stiff simmer. It was probably for the best. It gave Laxus enough to time to stew over something to say. Of course, Davian turned his shifting eyes to him looking nothing short of petulant, and that wasn't a good sign. Laxus glared at the table.

"You're going to think I'm insane."

"An improvement, I assure you."

Laxus closed his eyes and focused on untightening his jaw. He crossed his arms and leaned back into his seat.

"I keep having nightmares. I've been having them, I guess, but they got so much worse after... after that night at your manor when we were... fuck... what were we even doing?"

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"We'd gone shopping that day, remember? And we were going to do something when we got back but... that whole space of time is blank. I remember your fucking dining room and its weird wallpaper. I kept thinking I saw faces in it..." Laxus shook his head and rolled his eyes, "I'm such a kid, right? But I swear, ever since then I've been having these night terrors of something standing in my room, right above me. There's always these voices and hands. I always see an altar and I always see someone on it, but whenever I start to get close enough to see who it is, it just turns into another dream about Ivan and this stupid fucking lacrima."

Laxus sighed heavily, but with how agitated he was it sounded sort of like a growl. Davian had gone still, dreadfully so. Laxus wasn't sure if that was a mercy or a condemnation, but the Major did seem to be listening intimately which... well it wasn't bad, at least.

"It just doesn't make sense, does it? Lacrimas don't just take magic, not on their own," he took in a deep breath and looked down at his wrists, at the vibrant blue veins crisscrossing down too-pale skin, "and it's not just my magic, is it? Yeah weakness, fever, it's magic deficiency but... I've had magic deficiency before and I wasn't... I'm anemic again, which I guess can happen but..."

Laxus hesitated, strengthened his resolve, and looked Davian in the eye, "Listen, if I knew anyone else who knew about strange gods, religions, and secret, underground rituals, I'd ask. I know you think I'm an ignorant prick, but I honestly don't have anyone else to turn to."

Davian frowned, guarded, but motioned for Laxus to continue. He gritted his teeth and braced himself for what he was about to say.

"I talked to a sphynx and..."

"A what?!"

"A sphynx."

With a slight bit of trepidation, Laxus peeked up at Davian. He hadn't told anyone about his encounter. As far as he knew, only Pantherlily was aware it had even happened. But as they'd left the library, he'd made it clear he didn't believe a word Dimisia had said. Levy, too, mentioned that in her reading sphynxes just tended to be guardians and tricksters. But Ramou had said she was blessed, and the way she'd acted... Laxus just felt like she'd been trying to tell him something. He was hoping that maybe he was just too dense to understand, that he just needed someone who would believe him enough to think it through with him. As it was, Davian now looked a lot less like he was going to attempt to psychoanalyze him, and more like he was about to get himself into a mess of trouble. Which was... promising, at least?

"Do you know anything about sphynxes?" Laxus asked, his voice betraying the smallest bit of hope he had.

Davian gave him a hopeless look which morphed into a refusal and then fell again in a huff before finally settling on a dubious, "One acquires knowledge here and there."

Laxus nearly sighed in relief, "Have you ever met one?"

"Not one that didn't run me out of a library... or bookshop," he replied tersely, "They typically ally themselves to the goddess Dihasis. She's a goddess of order, patron of knowledge, logic, sight and, well, quite doesn't agree with many of Oros's teachings which are typically more... base."

"Not as into sacrifice?" Laxus smirked, trying to make a joke and, by the look on Davian's face, failing miserably.

"Every god is into sacrifice. It's quite similar to any relationship, really, you cannot take without giving... and depending on how the rest of this conversation goes, it would suit you to learn that now," he punctuated his words sharply, "Dihasis works with the mind, with sanity, imparting knowledge only when first gaining it. As such her followers hoard knowledge, protect it, which is why they flock to places of written record."

"They sound like your kind of people," Laxus said mildly, "but you don't like them."

"I suppose I don't understand the appeal, or maybe I'm just prejudiced. For glimpses into the goddess, they lose their sanity. The sphynxes used to be such mighty pillars of knowledge and cunning, only to be reduced over the centuries to mad oracles in pursuit of divine sight," he turned his head to the side and muttered, "Oros demands destruction for creation, a completion of a cycle. At least there's more than one way to give a body. That's hardly true with the mind."

Laxus hesitated, "I wasn't trying to be disrespectful... when I mentioned sacrifice."

Davian seemed a little caught off guard by his apology and sort of waved his hand dismissively, "I'm just hungry. The trip is a long one."

Thankfully, it was at about that time their waitress brought their food, which for Laxus consisted of more red meat than his typical liking on a bed of bitter greens and for Davian meant enough sashimi to feed at least three people. Laxus didn't really care, of course. Most of his guildmates could pack it in with the best of them and he'd seen in person the kind of meals Lucy had footed because of Natsu's massive appetite. Gajeel, too, tended to be a heavy eater, especially after a grueling mission. Besides, he wanted Davian in a good mood. His chances were better at getting his help that way.

"So..." Laxus began, stabbing dumbly at his food in the same way one might try to poke awake a sleeping animal, "...when they tell the future... it's flexible, right? Like, Cana with her cards? It's a possible outcome but you can change it...?"

"Oh, Oros above, Laxus, I am no expert on divine sight... especially when it's gifted by Dihasis."

Laxus flipped over one of his kale leaves, inspecting the whole piece before taking a bite, "What do you know about it?"

"Well it's... it's a bit... ahh..." he chewed piece of otoro, thinking, "Oh, a tree, I suppose... or, maybe a bush...? Anyway, you have your main path, your trunk, and then so many branches of possible futures all breaking off in different directions. The sight tends to ignore those small, fragile branches, because the chances of their fruition are mostly null. Your main branches, the thickest ones, are the paths you're most likely to take, or maybe most of the choices you make will end you there... or both? At any rate, that is what the divine sight sees. The future the sphynx sees is the most likely to happen."

"But most likely doesn't mean it will," Laxus said solidly.

Davian clicked his teeth, "You could also play keno with a fifteen-spot ticket and win on the first try, but I still wouldn't recommend it."

Laxus tensed, "I don't gamble."

"Your odds are about four-hundred and twenty-eight billion to one," he replied pointedly.

Laxus sucked in a tight breath and closed his eyes, concentrating very hard on pushing the sudden swell of anger and helplessness down. His chest ached and he swallowed past whatever was making his throat begin to close (the red meat, probably). He must have been like that for too long, because he heard Davian's chopsticks clink against the side of his dish.

"I'm... maybe I shouldn't have..." Davian muttered, "You're... what did-what did she say? Exactly?"

"A lot of things," Laxus's voice was tight and despite his best efforts, wobbled like an infant's first steps, "She quoted a part of The Shadow Man by Colm Hayes... the one that says My love's killer stood waiting as I came in to fight."

Davian opened his mouth and shut it, fiddled around with a piece of fish, and then said extremely eloquently, "Ah."

"She quoted a lot of things, to be honest. She must have liked poetry before she started seeing the future. She said a lot about sleep paralysis demons and something that's hungry. She talked about Consumption and how whatever it was was going to kill me... asking me if I realized the danger I was in..."

Laxus pushed aside some spinach.

"That sounds... like a dreadful experience."

"I can't get it out of my head," Laxus mumbled.

He couldn't stop thinking about how frantic she'd been at the end, just before Ramou had interrupted and pushed her off of him. Her eyes had seemed clear. She didn't look like someone who had lost their mind. She just looked desperate, like if she didn't tell him exactly what she thought in that instant she'd burst. She'd been angry when she'd been pushed off.

"I know she was talking about Gajeel... and she quoted something... a conversation we had, but I don't remember having it. It was about Father." Laxus's chest was starting to hurt and it spidered its way across his ribs, growing stronger, "There has to be something I can do, Davian. After all this? You can't tell me he's just going to die and there's nothing I can do about it."

Davian stabbed one of his chopsticks into a piece of meat, "And your lover? What has he to say about all of this? Surely, he wouldn't want you affiliating yourself to... this."

Laxus held his breath, "He doesn't know."

Davian's eyes snapped up to him, "He doesn't know?"

Laxus shook his head.

One of his brows rose sharply, "You don't think this might be a bit important, being it his life in jeopardy, after all?"

Laxus refused to acknowledge the question, "Are you going to help me or not?"

"I'm... I couldn't... Laxus," Davian's resolve began to faltered as Laxus held his gaze, "You, you're serious?"

"Gajeel's hiding things from me, Davian. He never told me about Kahli, and something happened to him when he was with Bianca he still refuses to talk about. I know he's still trying to find Father but he won't tell me what's going on. I can't just sit here and wait for something to happen Davian..." he watched as Davian's lips turned into a frown, his brow furrowed, "If it were Irena, you'd be the same way."

Davian's look turned to one of anger but immediately fell into distress. He studied his food in silence for a while before taking in a slow breath and letting out a groan, running his hands other his face. He regarded the grimoire and then finally looked back to Laxus.

"I don't like the idea of you casually evoking a ritual." He spoke quietly. "You don't know what sort of powers you're trifling with."

Davian's eyes rolled back to the book and he sighed.

"Why don't we get you acquainted with the practice first, before we tap into anything... life altering. Suppose we could try something simple, maybe, and build from there."

Laxus's breath caught, "Yeah... we could do that."

"Something simple..." Davian's voice was serious, and he stabbed into another bite of fish, "...nothing that involves blood."

"What did you have in mind?"

"I'm not sure yet..." he glanced towards the widows, "But at any rate, we'll need to get some things."

Davian seemed somber and tense, staring out vacantly in the street. His lips were set in a line, like maybe he was upset. Laxus wasn't sure what to do, and found himself rubbing at the bottom of his scar.

"Thank you, Davian," he found himself saying, "For helping me."

Davian slowly shook his head. After a beat, he chanced a look back to Laxus, "Save your thanks. You may come to regret this later."