Chapter 111:
A deep rumble woke Laxus from his doze. He wasn't startled because he had expected this.
The Madame had not bid them goodbye that morning. There was no fanfare. They merely packed their belongings and left. Laxus felt the gnawing at his heart from the words of the god the night prior, but aside from a moment of weakness looking towards the dark tent steepled above the rest, he did not act upon it. As he pulled himself onto the back of his camel, he noticed a condor swooping low to disappear in a sea of dunes.
They had travelled for hours before the canyons broke against the horizon, ruddy in the golden morning. It was after they had reached the precipice of one and gazed downward that the mountain range unfurled before them, stretching west. They were ancient and weathered by time and rains from stiff, knifetip peaks to weary-shouldered giants. Red was quickly choked by green as the rainforest swept from the western side of the first mountains and extended as far as the eye could see. The rains could not pass the high mountains, always withering before meeting the arid climate just past the steepest of the summits.
The closer they came to the untamed wilds, the more aware Laxus was of the shadow that waited for him. All too soon, they were outside of Tzopilatl's domain and traversing a seldom-travelled path into encroaching trees. The forest was alive, greeting them with the screams of birds and the teeming of insects. Davian had given him and Irena protective markings, speaking some sort of blessing that allowed them into the lost domain of the chameleons.
They had travelled quite far, following a wall of brick that weaved in and out of massive roots and ferns, long reclaimed by the choking vines of the jungle and easily missed if Davian hadn't known precisely where to look for it, before making their camp deep in the cacophonous green and away from sight of the path. The plan was laid bare, although Irena didn't like it one bit. They would set out early the next morning, traveling to the temple and leaving Irena back away from the compound. The three chameleons and Laxus would continue on. By that evening, they would return to her and start the long trek home.
Now, they had all packed and slouched and splayed widely around their meager fire. Irena had settled into her hammock almost as soon as night fell and zipped herself inside so the bugs and rain couldn't get in. Her massive shepherd was stretched out long beneath her, his head resting on his paws and intelligent eyes staring off into the blackened forest. Erandi too had taken to resting, although, he didn't seem to sleep. He merely sat cross-legged, eyes shut and back straight as a rod, meditating. Davian didn't seem tired at all, and instead had taken to ceaselessly writing in what Laxus knew to be the translation of Bianca's journals. Laxus himself was trying to stay awake. He had felt the pitiless and overwhelming presence of Father as soon as they'd crossed into the trees and was painfully aware that it was out there where he couldn't see, behind some vine-swathed tree, creeping through ferns, standing still and hungry, waiting. Rut, in a display of solidarity or just keeping true to the words he'd spoken the day before, had decided to lay at his back. Sans glamour and so close to him, Laxus could fully appreciate how massive he was. Nearing seven feet, tail notwithstanding, he curled around Laxus like a beast, appearing nearly black when steeped in the colors of night. It was his deep rumbling growl that had awoken him.
"Not much longer mage…" he hissed, "One night more."
"Yeah…" Laxus said uneasily, still completely unnerved by the chameleon. Laxus looked over to Davian, translating in the darkness with the eyes of a snake waiting in the darkness, pupils dilated until his irises were nearly engulfed by black.
They had hardly spoken since the god had laid them both bare. There is a profound mundanity in an experience like what they had shared, a set of rules as strong as any learned etiquette. Laxus knew the things that had been exposed and agonized in him were the same to Davian; their biggest regrets, transgressions they'd yet to forgive themselves for. It had been a tool to break them down and then exalt them in the next breath. Laxus was keen to sharp words and confident; despite this, he had been rattled at the foundation. There were cracks that he had long since thought had been plastered over, shorn up, that were re-damaged. The wound of it was made once again raw. He had no idea what that could have done to the man on the other side of the fire. Some secrets stay secrets because nobody knows them, some because nobody tells them. Davian's silence was one that had bled so openly for the past stretch of hours it was a wonder the man still had blood in him at all. Perhaps that was why he was so cold.
Laxus noted the pointed way in which Davian ignored his stare. He took in a breath and sighed.
"Davian," Laxus began.
"I don't want to talk about it."
Laxus's lips twisted ruefully, "How do you know what I'm about to say?"
"I've come to know you a bit in the times we've spent together, Laxus," Davian replied, his tone clipped, "Mind your own business... unless you'd also care to discuss your fear of inadequacy as a dragon slayer?"
"Maybe I was going to ask what the god meant when he said you offered your mom's heart to an upstart god." He could have shuddered for the daggers Davian's eyes drove straight into his chest. Instead, he did his best to remain unfazed. "I thought Oros was ancient."
His voice contained venom. Something around him was palpably furious, something that wasn't entirely him, "He is."
"Then who did you offer it to?"
His eyes flashed gold for just a second and Laxus already knew the answer, though it didn't make sense to him.
"I thought Father was a profit and a priest... not a god."
"It isn't..." Davian started, but also stopped. He shook his head slightly, as if trying to dismiss some idea, "I don't know, Laxus. Tzopilatl isn't a deity I'm well versed in, but it is clear he craves his former glory. Gods only have the power we give them, and because of this the worst thing for them is to be forgotten. That's why Oros has so many names. Before my kind knew him, he went by others still. To change to fit new parameters, to resonate with a new following, is to survive. For all I know, Tzopilatl was trying to trick me to some end, perhaps, shake my faith enough that I would pledge myself to him. He certainly didn't pull his punches... he certainly tried the same with you."
"Right..." Laxus said, looking down at his hands as if to use them to physically pull apart the implications of Davian's words. He turned over the idea of Davian pledging himself to two gods and wondered what that would entail. He thought of the offer Tzopilatl had made himself, in exchange for him becoming his avatar. He reached forward and curled his fingers around a nearby twig, began worrying it in his hands, "What does it mean to be a god's avatar?"
Davian stopped his writing for just a moment and Laxus knew inherently that he was looking down his nose at him, "It's... a large responsibility. One not to be taken lightly."
"If I had said yes, what would have happened?" Laxus breathed the words more than said them. Davian gave him a hard look, hesitant, "I don't understand. Madame Guéneva was human, right? But she was an avatar. Father is an avatar, but It isn't human... and might not exist on this plane? You're supposed to be an avatar, but you can't be human. If I'd said yes...?"
"That's... a difficult question to answer." Davian said, the sharp set to his shoulders easing slightly, "To become an avatar is to pledge yourself to a god, not just as a follower, but as a vessel for them to inhabit. You have free will, but it is secondary to the will of the god. In return, you can call upon your god and use their power. Madame Guéneva is human, yes, but you may have noticed that when she called upon her god's power, she changed. To have the Virale of a god, their life energy, it... changes you. You become more than what you are, but not quite a god, something in-between. And it was meant to be this way. The gods are capricious, they work in their own interests. They have their own politics between each other. They oftentimes lose sight of mortals and their plights, which is why they so often take on an avatar. They are the go-between between the mortals and the gods."
"But... I thought you said you had to kill the human half of yourself to take Father's place?" Laxus asked.
Davian stuttered a bit, considering the question before answering it, "W-well... yes. But that is due to the nature of our god, Oros. He is much more powerful than Tzopilatl, and his Virale is... tremendous; using it can kill you. A mortal body can't hold it. Oros specifically requires his avatar to be a chameleon because we're built to handle his power better than a human. Because we were made by Oros himself."
At that, he felt Rut stir. The massive chameleon opened his eyes and stared over at Davian.
"What do you mean?"
Davian let out a terse breath as he thought, "Think of it, maybe, like electricity. Some metals are more conductive than others, and of those that are conductive, some corrode too quickly or are inclined to adverse reactions. Chameleons, I suppose, would be copper."
"Silver," Laxus muttered, "but yeah, I get what you mean."
At that, Rut made a deep noise. Davian huffed, "What was wrong with that?"
"Chameleonsss cannot contain the god'sss power." Rut hissed, "Only those with the blood of the divine can be called to be Aurincarae."
Davian raised a brow, "They're all dead, Rut."
"Not all." There was a strange tone to his voice, something barely contained. When Laxus looked to him, his lips were pulled back into a grotesque smile.
"All but one, then." Davian said snappishly, "If you mean Father."
At that, Rut made a grunting chuckle. He raised himself up on his arms, coiled his legs underneath himself as if to rise and his tail lashed, nearly knocking into Laxus.
"Why doesss the Favorite Son believe he was chosen to sssucceed Father?" he sneered, baring his teeth, "You are of the divine."
"Only as much as you are," Davian hurled back at him.
"You say I am dull of mind, and yet you bare sssacred feathers and never thought you were of the Osaloua?" Again, Rut laughed, "It had long been suspected that Father wasss trying to recreate thossse that were lost to the slaughter. You and the Hungry One are living proof. The firssst to be chosen for Ritesss in millennia. How is it that you do not know?"
"How is it that you do?" Davian countered, all but snarling back at him.
"The one who should have been my father feared for what my parentage meant. He told me these thingsss before it was clear the Yaoyo was strong within me." Rut yawned and stretched like a massive cat before slithering up to sit next to Laxus by the fire.
"Why do you say the one who should have been your father?" Laxus asked. He was surprised by the reaction to his question. Davian's eyes widened and he made the barest of head shakes, as if to say don't ask but it was too late. Although Rut's face was still towards the fire, his large yellow eye now centered on Laxus, "Sorry I asked."
"His curiosity is genuine," Davian said quickly, "He doesn't know... anything."
Rut continued to glare for a moment before abruptly letting it go. He took in a rumbling breath and his tongue lashed out.
"There isss a custom among the mastersss of the clans to have fullblooded children to continue the dynasty. My mother wasss halfblooded, but the ssson of the Master of the Yaoyo fell in love with her, cursssed though that be. Because she wasss part of the clan, it wasss permitted they match if she could bear him a child ssstrong with the Yaoyo to continue the line," the beast turned its head to look at Laxus, "She could not."
"In desperation, she turned to Father and requesssted guidance on a fertility ritual in the hopesss to bear a son. She wasss still young, naive, and ignorant. She did not understand the price for her knowledge. She wasss instructed to make a circle, her match to lay in its center, ussse copal and oweyenne..."
"He should have warned her." Davian said darkly, "Being the son of Citlali, he would have known what she was doing."
Rut's tongue slithered out again, "Drunk. On sacrificial wine."
"I don't understand what that means," Laxus said, once again gaining Rut's attention.
"Father doesss not exist on this plane. It isss Ascended."
"What does that mean? That It is Ascended?"
Rut bared his teeth slightly and his eyes flashed over to Davian.
"Oros above, we're getting into everything tonight, are we? Though, I supposed its wise that you know," Davian muttered. As he spoke, Rut took his black claws and dug them into the ground, tracing three symbols into the soft dirt, "There are three planes of existence… well, three and a half, I suppose. The realm of the gods, Earthland, and Shunoya, the afterlife. The avatar of a god has access to an in-between where they and the god can meet on somewhat equal footing. It can be invoked, as you saw with Madame Guéneva, under the right conditions. To Ascend means to leave behind the mortal world, to travel beyond and into the realm of the gods. There are a myriad of reasons why one might travel to the realm of the gods. Typically, it's for enlightenment, to enter a higher state of consciousness. Sometimes, you can return, although typically changed beyond recognition. And the gods do not allow the trespass lightly."
Rut hummed, a low noise that made the air quake, "The price for Its Ascension wasss Its mortal body, and the Osaloua clan's blood."
Laxus clicked his teeth, still confused, "I thought you said the Osaloua died because your clan didn't stop the mages?"
At that, Rut's lips pulled back into a sneer, "Both of thessse can be true. Father'sss trespass to the sphere of the godsss demanded a heavy sacrifice. The consequence... that there would be none to continue the line. Father would be the lassst Aurincarae unlesss It could conceive a child. But the council believed the body to be dead, so when Father'sss spirit tried to return to its home, there wasss none to return to."
"Its body was mummified... still alive," Davian said, his voice quiet and eyes staring into the depths of the fire as if recalling something, "It was trapped on the other plane. With the Osaloua gone, there were none who could complete a ritual for a new body."
"What does any of that have to do with... your story?" Laxus asked.
"Father gave her a fertility ritual to conceive a ssson... but she did not conceive with her match."
"Copal is a sacred incense to help bring the realm of the gods to ours, and you've experienced oweyenne, an herb that we use to push ourselves closer to the realm of the gods." Davian said, the somber ring of sadness in his tone, "She invited Father into her match's body."
"Father possessed him. Sssince she was only part Yaoyo, she wasss not his physical equal and could not ssstop him after she realized what had happened." Rut was looking into the fire again, "Our bodiesss were not made to contain the divine. He was left blind and unable to walk. She held out hope I would be his until I wasss born with yellow eyes. Then she went mad from the guilt. She threw herssself onto the rocks of a caldera. Useless until the end, she missssed. They heard her weeping for daysss afterwards before she succumbed to her injuriesss."
"Damn." Laxus whispered.
"The one who should have been my father wasss prone to drink, and often imparted forbidden wisdomsss when he did. He despisssed her bastard son, but wasss still desperately in love with her. I ssspent my youth between him and the huéfen,"
"Sort of like an orphanage," Davian explained, his frown sharp, "Did you know Bianca, then? Aeleora?"
"In what way?" he rumbled.
"Was she not also in the huéfen?" Davian asked.
"Only after I wasss old enough to no longer be welcome." Rut said, his voice breathy and bored.
"You don't know her parentage, then?"
"I know her ssstory, if that is what you're sssearching for." he sneered, and Davian nodded, "Her mother wasss a vindictive woman. She thought herself sssome queen of the underground, and when this wasn't true, learned she could not leave. She grew resssentful of Father's child. Sssold her to one of the Qaholom as a wife."
"Oros's teeth..." Davian muttered.
"He nearly killed her." Rut said, "Father learned of it, but it wasss too late. He took the penance in blood from the mother and the man who bought her, but dissscarded the girl as It does for thossse It cannot use."
"What did It want to use her for?" Laxus asked.
Rut growled lowly, but it wasn't an angry sound. It was tired.
"It hasss been suspected that the humansss Father chose had remnants of the divine within them, descended from thossse that escaped into the desert. The Sons chosen for Ritesss showed this." Rut said, "It would have usssed her to revive the Osaloua."
"But she couldn't bare children," Davian said, eyes widening.
"Why would she want to?" Laxus snarled.
"Because she was obsessed with garnering Its favor," Davian was flipping through his books, looking for something, "Her mother abandoned her to a man who would have killed her and Father saved her life and also took revenge for her. How crushing would it be to be abandoned again? What would she be willing to do to regain Its favor? Attempt to produce a child of the Osaloua?"
"That's a fuckin' stretch Davian."
"Oh isn't it?" he hissed, scrambling to his feet. He strode to where the camels stood, digging through his packs until he pulled out two binders, "Oros's Death and Rebirth, this is why I trust my instincts."
He dropped one onto the ground, crouching next to it, he started flipping through pages. Laxus could see photographs in the dim light and remembered what was inside. His stomach twisted.
"The halfbloods that she experimented on... she said they were imperfect."
"She said a lot of shit, Davian." Laxus said, voice brimming with contempt he couldn't contain. He watched as Davian procured yet another book, this one small, and he could see in the firelight that there was script written in fine handwriting filling the pages. He pulled a pen from his pocket and began writing. "Even you said she was insane."
"Insane does not mean there was no reason to her actions, Laxus." Davian's reply was scathing, and he didn't look at him even as he wrote, "It. Makes. Sense."
"How in the hell does any of this make sense?" Laxus snapped.
"You are both too loud..." Rut snarled and they all fell into abrupt silence. Davian's eyes cut towards him but before he could protest, Rut full body shivered. In a second, he was climbing to his feet, towering above them both, eyes piercing into the darkness in an animalistic way that made Laxus nervous.
Davian's smirk was petulant, "Do you fear jaguars, oh, great warrior?"
"I am called to protect," he hissed and shivered again.
At that, Davian frowned, "None of the coven followed us. I checked."
Rut growled, a deep, reverberating noise that startled Erandi out of his meditation. His eyes were wide and filled with terror, but it was rare that they weren't. Rut made no other reply or explanation. He sank down onto his hands and stepped back into the foliage that surrounded them. With a silky silence Laxus would have thought was impossible for the hulking lizardman, he slipped into the darkness. Leaves rustled and then they were doused in silence. Laxus strained his ears to listen but gave up when he heard the agitating scratching of pen on paper. There was a rustling, and Laxus watched as Davian pulled a report from one of the binders. The letterhead and the handwriting made it clear it was a report from the Magic Council.
"What is that?" Laxus asked.
"Mr. Redfox's first official statement. The unaltered one," he replied, holding his glasses low on his nose as he read. He snuffed, not finding what he was looking for, and pulled out another. Laxus assumed it was the one Davian had taken so long ago in their own home, before Gajeel had been taken to prison. Again he huffed, "Has he ever mentioned anything to you about black outs while in Bianca's captivity?"
"She kept him drugged most of the time he was there." Laxus's chest felt tight and uncomfortable.
"No, no. It would be more like... eh-um... ah... like, he was cognizant one moment and then the next he woke up with no memory of a long stretch of time." Davian said, frowning, "He was sober on day six. That would have been when it would have happened."
"Day six?" Laxus demanded, "What happened on day six?"
Davian gave him a leery once over, "The fact that you don't seem aware makes me think it's something I shouldn't speak on."
"Did he tell you?" Laxus didn't know why, but he felt sort of betrayed. Why would Gajeel ever tell Davian something in confidence but not him?
Davian froze, sensing the unspoken question in Laxus, and was suddenly choosing his words carefully, "You seem to assume something that isn't what happened. It was... a transactional exchange of information. He owed me a favor."
"He owed you a favor?" Laxus was floored, "How in the hell did that happen?"
"It might surprise you to know I did attempt to work with him, once. He wasn't interested in the idea. Then he showed up on my doorstep with him-" the contempt was clear in his voice as he shot Erandi a glance. The boy didn't notice, as he had already settled back into his meditation, "-and he wanted me to assist in tracking down an acquaintance who is most certainly dead. I told him what I could in exchange for what he could tell me... but if he hasn't discussed anything with you, I can only assume it is for a reason."
"Like what, Davian?" Laxus's stomach twisted. He couldn't help it; it all rang back to the time he and Davian were down in the catacombs beneath Bianca's lab. He remembered finding the binders that Davian now had strewn about him. He remembered realizing for the first time the scope at which Gajeel was hiding things.
"Certainly, I don't need to explain to you how these types of experiences tend to leave victims harboring feelings of shame... and guilt." When Laxus continued to stare at him completely bewildered, and somewhat accusing, Davian gave a sort of sordid scoff, "Sexual assault... you were aware of that, surely."
Laxus felt like the wind had left him. He knew. Of course he knew, but Gajeel had never said it out loud. Things left unspoken like that tend to have an etherealness about them, as if they don't really exist. Yes, Laxus knew he'd been assaulted by Bianca because Gajeel had alluded to as much, but no one, certainly not he, had ever said it out loud... and so maybe it didn't happen. Maybe it was just a really, really bad nightmare.
"Yes, I was aware..." Laxus said lowly, "And I'm aware that's not all that happened. I just don't know exactly what."
"It can't just be left at that?" Davian asked.
Laxus narrowed his eyes at him, "If it wasn't important, why did you need to know?"
Davian bristled but didn't reply, and that silence whetted Laxus's anger more than his own ignorance. He knew it was unreasonable and directionless, but he had already started down that thread of thought and now he was halfway to hell and picking up speed. Just how much was Gajeel keeping concealed? Perhaps it was true that he had allowed the silence to fester; when Gajeel had asked him to stay out of it, to allow him to handle it all on his own, Laxus had agreed but it was under the stipulation that when things became too much that he would call on him. It was becoming more and more clear that things were out of his control, that he was spinning his wheels and getting nowhere, and even Laxus had been dragged into the middle of it in one way or another, and still Gajeel grasped tightly onto his secrecy. The fact that Davian was privy to more and also refused to tell him was maddening. Was it weakness that they sensed in him that led them to keep him in darkness? Gajeel had told him more than once that his methods were to protect him, but what protection had he really garnered? Father had found him regardless of Gajeel's efforts, he was half-dead and still being feasted on. Even now, he could feel the Virale Madame Guéneva had given him was being spirited away to some unseen force with hungry teeth.
Laxus was tired of being kept in the dark, and so he did something he rarely did. He aimed for a weak spot. Laxus was well aware that he had a way of speaking quietly that somehow also made him the loudest one in a room. He invoked this now and allowed the halcyon of his voice to hang about him like the silence between thunder roars.
"Don't you owe me a transactional exchange of information?" Laxus said and watched Davian's facial expressions fold into that of cold indifference. He began to feel something come into being, like the teeming of too many flies. Davian straightened his glasses, "Questions that you still have to answer. Nine of them."
Davian's face was nearly unreadable in the harsh relief of him, one half of him lit by the wavering light of the fire and the other in stark shadow.
"Perhaps that offer has expired."
"You gave me your word."
The living fury grew stronger, creeping in like shadows that couldn't be held back by their tiny fire. Davian spoke, still aloof, still alluding to nothing. "Your curiosity, Laxus, will be the end of you. Not everything should be brought into the light,"
Laxus turned that around in his head and regarded the detachment with which Davian spoke with more than a little trepidation. It was always more disconcerting when he was professional than when he was emotional. When Davian was exhibiting some sort of emotion, Laxus knew he was being honest. It was hard for him to hide things that way. The stoic face, the calm voice, those were monikers of a large possibility of things. And anything that Davian would want to keep hidden that involved his half-sister were prospects that deeply worried him.
"Tell me what you know, Davian."
Firelight reflected in the translucent lenses of Davian's glasses, turning them opaque for just a moment. Davian's reply was just as limpid, "Why the sudden interest? I thought you had closed the case on this already."
"You hiding something makes me interested," Laxus spoke with determination, refusing to back down or waver, "First question, what did Gajeel tell you about what happened that day?"
Davian took in a deep breath, rolling back his shoulders as he did so and looking as if he were about to let loose something with ire. He looked down to his work. His response was clipped.
"He didn't. He still can't discuss that day without going into a panic attack. Admitting it out loud is too visceral for him."
"Then how do you know?" Laxus asked.
"Two." Davian said, and it struck Laxus in the chest even as Davian flipped back and forth between two pages before jotting down a note. When he looked back up at Laxus, his glasses flashed. He held up his hand, showing black, pointed nails with purpose, "I made him show me. And I didn't get far. He nearly hyperventilated."
Laxus gritted his teeth and did his best to brace himself for what he would ask next, "What did you see?"
"How in depth do you want me to go? Would you like a synopsis? An overview? Or do you desire all the gory details?" his voice hitched upwards, turning cruel, "Do you want to know what the room smelled like?"
"I just want to know what happened." Laxus said, refusing to show his anger or his guilt. He crossed his arms and clung to his resolve to stay cool and absolute.
Davian paused and then clicked his teeth. "Three."
"He was strapped to a table and she told him she was going to make him beg for her, and he'd be sober when he did it. He laughed and called her a bitch-"
Laxus's stomach twisted and rolled up into his chest.
"-he pictured what it would be like to tear her apart and paint the room with her blood. She thought it was amusing-"
His throat tightened around a knot that was quickly forming. He watched as Davian flipped another page, made another note.
"-she pulled open his stitches and told him again to ask her nicely, and maybe she'd consider letting him go. He refused and - oh come now, don't lose your resolve now, Laxus. I wasn't even that graphic in detail. I didn't even mention where her hands were while she was speaking."
"Davian..." Laxus warned darkly, "I'm not playing a game with you."
"Aren't you?" he hissed, eyes flashing.
"Tell me it's not important when you forced him to show you what happened." Laxus charged him, trying to swallow down his wrath, to keep from discharging any magic in the building rage he felt in his gut, "Why would you if it wasn't?"
"Four. I am a detective first. I needed to know what sort of ritual Aeleora was casting to see if it had any bearing on what is happening." Davian shot him that withering glare he had that he often shifted forward to deliver with his fingertips pressed together, "And when I got what I needed, I released him. It wasn't morbid curiosity."
"And did you figure it out?" Laxus asked much like the air before a storm: with very little activity, but every atom of him charged.
"Five," Davian spoke the number like a curse, and it took everything in Laxus not to wince, "Yes, I did."
Laxus snapped his mouth shut, took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He pinched the bridge of his nose and for a long moment just sat with his eyes shut, trying for everything that he was worth to calm down. He had started this battle, he reminded himself, and he'd be damned if he lost it.
"What sort of ritual was it, Davian?"
"Six. A fertility ritual, to get her pregnant." He sat back and crossed his arms then, "Which is why I need to know if he blacked out."
Laxus scoffed, "What in the hell makes you think that's what it was? It doesn't make sense."
"But. It. Does." He insisted, and then began flipping through pages. As he talked he pulled out sheets of paper covered in fluid gibberish, "She experimented on her own kind first, trying to figure out how to produce a child of the Osaloua. She must have realized that her blood held some of the divine in it, and determined then that the other halfbloods would also, which is why she started experimenting on them."
He pulled free the picture of himself and Irena that had marked him as the next target, the one she could never get to because she died before she could.
"While doing this, she was looking into how to induce heat. For the Qaholom, it is genetic to go through a cycle, and any halfblooded children they have don't go through it. When she determined that wouldn't be a viable option, she started looking into potions. The potion she threw at you, Laxus."
"She observed what happened to you after the heat was induced, and we know she did because she took detailed notes," he was digging out notes, then, and laying them out in front of him. He held up a page Laxus had no hope of reading as if for emphasis and it made Laxus feel sick to his stomach, "And her observations led her to realize that inducing a heat cycle wasn't what she needed. Rut for dragon slayers just makes them territorial, desire a mate, but it also yields venom. Venom that by design makes the person affected more fertile."
"Alright," Laxus said, his voice trembling in a way unexpected and unwelcome, "Say I believe all that, and it doesn't sound fucking insane. She targeted Gajeel. But if it was only the venom she was after, then why not go after anyone else? Why not Natsu, or hell, Cobra wouldn't have been missed if he disappeared..."
"His fortitude, and perhaps, familiarity." Davian pulled out the binder that held all of the loathsome pictures of Gajeel, the ones Kahli had taken, "The first residence of the pictures taken were of Gajeel's, not yours. I think she tailed him, possibly to also find you, but I believe he was her intended victim because, frankly, he survived you, Laxus. More than anything else about him, there are notes on his healing, how quick it is, how much his body can endure, how he metabolizes things. I think she was trying to gage whether or not he'd be able to survive the possession if the fertility ritual was performed properly."
"Possession..." Laxus breathed.
"Yes, possession by Father... which is why it would be beneficial for me to know whether or not he blacked out. Not that it really matters. If my thoughts are correct, I don't think the ritual went to plan, because she didn't know who she was dealing with." Davian said, eyes now staring pointedly into him, or more accurately, his chest, as if he were deep in thought as he talked, "She didn't know what she was dealing with when she chose him. Not some normal mage, certainly not a Fairy Tail mage. She chose Kurogane, a man who'd learned at a young age how to endure torture, who wouldn't release what she wanted even on threat of pain, certainly not on threat of death; a man who knew how to bide his time and would wait until she made a mistake before making an escape. She picked the wrong dragon slayer. Had it been you, or one of the younger ones, perhaps she might have succeeded. And I think, had she not have been killed, she would have done just that."
Laxus's blood ran cold. He didn't want to believe it, he didn't want to think Davian was right, but he held his proof in his own hands. His translations, what he'd spent months working on.
"And you just revealed to me last night that he knows how to cast a fertility ritual, or at the very least, has participated in one." he stated. This time he was looking at Laxus. His yellow eyes snapped up to meet his own, "And he knew before he ever met Aeleora. So my wager is, he hijacked the ritual, whether on accident or on purpose, though, I don't know."
Laxus's eyelids fluttered closed and he shook his head. He might as well have just told him that the dragons were back and skipping across Fiore in flower crowns. None of it made sense and he didn't believe it. He refused to believe it.
"I am not crazy." Davian said, his voice like a wedge of ice to the victim of an avalanche, cold and unforgiving.
"I think you are." Laxus replied scathingly.
"I saw it, Laxus. Maybe not the assault, but she said it numerous times, that he would ask her and be sober when he did it. She was trying to force him to give his consent, something you have to have in a fertility ritual... whenever you use sex magic," Davian insisted, determination written on his face, "And she knew that, but she didn't have experience casting rituals. She wouldn't have known that in the absence of enthusiastic consent, she would need ignorance. If she coerced him into agreement, told him her intent, if he knew what she was using him for, and knew how a fertility ritual worked, he could use that knowledge to shift the ritual towards his will instead of hers. The will of a powerful mage, a dragon slayer, would at the very least taint the ritual, if not cause it to fail entirely. The anger, Laxus, the hate I felt in that memory… she either vastly underestimated him or else it was pure ignorance that led her to continue. Either way, it caused her downfall."
"And what does any of that have to do with now?" Laxus growled, "It doesn't fit in anywhere. It doesn't make sense."
"It does if he called out to something," Davian said, gravely, "if in his rage he just… reached out… to anything. The spirit of Father would have already been there. Who's to say It wasn't the thing that answered?"
"No. No." Laxus was on his feet now, the anger he had kept at bay all this time finally breaking free. Davian scrambled up as well, refusing to give him an edge, refusing to be looked down on, "No, Davian. You're wrong."
"I've told you before, haven't I? When you cast your voice to the void, anything can answer-" Davian started, but Laxus refused to listen.
"Oros answered. Your god, answered."
"And what did he say, Laxus? What did he tell you?" Davian insisted, crossing the distance between them with his hands spread wide. The teeming anger in the air surged around him and his eyes ignited, "Gajeel's life has been covenanted. Do you know what that means? It is owed. It is promised... That speaks to a deal being made-"
Laxus wanted to deny it. He wanted to remain like a mountainside to the stiff wind, to stand strong against Davian's words and remain unmoved. It was nonsense. It was wrong. But Davian was speaking assiduously, as if there was a danger in allowing silence, in thinking, in stopping and considering just exactly what he was giving voice to, as if he'd never before spoken this aloud and now that he had his moment he couldn't let it slip. Something in his words lodged inside Laxus's head, heavy as a stone and hidden from light, each word falling into place with the inevitability of a heartbeat.
"You're saying he did this? He promised his life away to a god he didn't even know the name of?" Laxus said in a voice that could have shattered obsidian, "That he promised it to Oros?"
"Not to Oros. And not purposely. I don't know all that he was made to endure, Laxus, but even trained men can only take so much. I don't know what she did to make him agree to the ritual but-"
Laxus turned away from him as if to walk away but where would he have gone to? All around them the jungle was pitched in midnight. Jaguars and tarantulas and massive snakes and the gods knew what else crept in the darkness and he was barely standing. All that without the knowledge that there were lizardfolk, Rut's kind, hunting for any person who didn't bear the marks of safety that Davian had given them. Instead, he paced, ignoring the look of Rameses as he watched him move pensively in the small, cleared space.
"Laxus, please, listen to me. Father is opportunistic. If It saw something within him that It desired, who's to say It didn't latch on to his prayer?"
Laxus whirled on him, an edge to his tone that threatened to cut if pressed much further, "Why? What could that thing have seen in him that It didn't see in anyone else? You've seen It, haven't you? You've heard it?"
Laxus watched whatever Davian had prepared on his lips die in an instant. He froze in place, a marble statue amongst the ferns. The silence that fell between them was dense and heavy, punctuated only by the crackling of their meager fire. The gold in his eyes twinkled and slowly died as his anger left him and they were both left all the colder for it.
Laxus's voice fled him and he was left with something twisted and little more than a desperate whine, "You mean to tell me, what I've been seeing in my nightmares is him? His body lying on that altar, his blood everywhere? Are you telling me Dimisia was right and Oros was right and there's nothing I can do?"
"I didn't... I didn't say that." Davian breathed, and then pulled up some resolve that he must have kept hidden in some unseen place, "We can stop it, somehow. He's needed for a ritual of some kind. We can still find a way to change it, or to stop it. Nothing says that we can't."
"Then what's the ritual, Davian? What is it? When is it happening?"
"I don't... I don't know." When Laxus clenched his fists and turned away from him again he stepped thoroughly into his way, refusing to let him disengage, "I'm still trying to figure it all out. I feel as if the pieces are all in front of me and I have just to look in the right direction and it will all align. I just haven't revealed the correct angle yet, or perhaps it is on a plane that is lost to me, but I can figure it out."
Again the words were springing up and flowing over, like a waterfall that couldn't be dammed no matter how many logs were put in place. Laxus didn't want to hear anymore, wanted his speculations to just wander off somewhere in the jungle and drown in a cenote.
"I know what I am to become, the next in line for Father's place. I don't want it, but I'd survive it. Changed, probably, but that would be me and me alone, wouldn't it? Why would it involve him? I was thinking for a long time it was the Rite of the Body..."
Every instinct in Laxus's body made him shudder.
"...but any human would do for that. We have human practitioners, you know, who would volunteer for such a thing. And a willing sacrifice would be monumentally better than an unwilling one. In fact, to have one that is unwilling has the potential to ruin that ritual altogether…" Davian was staring into Laxus but he got the distinct feeling he wasn't talking to him. It was like he was speaking to the air, or maybe himself, "I've tried asking for guidance, but it is always the same. A life is required, a life has been promised. The cycle must start again. But I know what the cycle is. I know how it is to restart. It doesn't involve him. So why does his life hang in the balance? I've tried thinking of any ritual that doesn't require consent and even those are limited, far fewer exist that the participant can be unwilling. I'm trying my best, Laxus, truly I am."
A deep hissing sound made them both freeze. Laxus was very suddenly privy to the smell of blood and he turned on his heel to see eyes flashing at him in the darkness.
"Too loud..." it was Rut, now returned from wherever he'd gone off to. There was a blur of motion and Davian lunged forward, snatching Erandi as he'd rushed forwards towards the other chameleon. As Rut slunk out from beneath the shadows, Laxus was startled to see his arms were covered in blood. In his hands was a brilliant yellow pelt. An open mouth showed yellow fangs. The dead eyes of a jaguar stared at the ground.
"Oro's Teeth," Davian said, wrangling Erandi still and down to his knees, "Was that what was so urgent?"
Rut snarled as he stepped around Laxus. There was the sickening sound of meat being torn apart and Rut dropped a heavy piece of the dead cat onto the ground. Davian released Erandi who immediately sank his claws into it, eating as if he'd been starved for the past few days. There was a shared moment of silence between the other two chameleons as they watched him, one of uncertainty that Laxus didn't particularly understand. Rut made a deep, wordless noise and Davian huffed.
"Yes, well, it is mindless, isn't it?" Davian's voice was pragmatic, hiding nervousness, "Irena does have her dogs now. They're quite keen."
Laxus got the distinct feeling he was missing something big, and even worse, that Davian was purposely leaving him in ignorance. Rut said nothing, but began making his way over to the camels. To his surprise, he pulled out a roll of bandages and began wrapping his hands.
"Hurt yourself while hunting jaguars?" Davian asked.
"It wasss a gift."
"A gift?" Davian's eyes widened in alarm, "From whom?"
"Rhuntak, the new Master of the Yaoyo." Rut said, making his way back to the kill. He began pulling it apart, and Laxus realized where all the blood had come from. He'd watched Gajeel prepare a lynx but the brutish way that the lizardman pulled the animal apart made him feel nauseous. He ate a chunk of it, swallowing without hardly chewing. "For peace."
"Peace?" Davian demanded and Rut looked up at him, trading again in silent conversation. Laxus decided he didn't want to know, since Davian suddenly seemed extremely uncomfortable.
"You should eat, Favorite Ssson." Rut said, "You will need your ssstrength for what comes."
Laxus's stomach turned even more sour, "I'm going to bed."
"Is that wise?" Davian asked, but he wasn't looking at him. His lip was curled and he was staring down at Rut as he ripped through the animal.
"Don't care." he muttered, pulling up the flap of his hammock, the net for keeping out things that might crawl inside, "I'm tired and watching you eat that shit is going to make me throw up."
"Weak ssstomach..." Rut said in an odd way. Laxus realized it was supposed to be a good-humored jab but was too busy ignoring the sound of skin ripping to say anything back. He zipped himself away from them, encapsulated in darkness and silence, and tried to tell himself it would be fine if he fell asleep. There were only a handful of hours until dawn and then at least one nightmare would finally be over.