Chapter 113:
Gajeel retreated down the tree as if he were fleeing from something; and perhaps he was. Maybe Serrill was right. He should run to Laxus, grab him by the collar and demand they leave now before it was too late, before whatever bad thing Davian felt approaching happened with them here, in the shadow of a temple that craved blood like life-giving water. Whatever it was that was draining Laxus, they'd find some other way to fix it without the chameleons and their ancient and recondite methods. He hit the ground and stumbled, catching himself on the large roots that slouched down into the ground, and told himself to calm down and get it together.
"Well? What did you see?" Serrill demanded, arms crossed, his intense gaze striking into his chest.
Gajeel immediately stilled. His skin prickled as he came to the realization that the birdsong around them had stopped. It was silent; a peculiar waiting silence that he knew innately and didn't like. The shadows of twilight flowed like water across the forest floor. The twisting limbs above them reached to strangle one another. Footsteps vanished behind Serrill, so quiet Gajeel only knew they had been there at all because of their absence. In the tall grasses, eyes flashed. Gajeel grabbed Serrill and dashed out of the way just as a jaguar pounced.
Darkness in the rainforest was nearly absolute, and they crashed blindly through undergrowth. Serrill cursed and the next thing Gajeel knew, he was gone. He stopped and turned to find the lieutenant, but he was nowhere. There was a flash of movement and Gajeel summoned up his scales just in time for teeth to clamp hard on his shoulder and wrench him to the ground. He twisted and hurled his body away from claws that tried to shred into his flesh. The very human desire not to be eaten had him sending an iron fist to its snout. The big cat retreated back from him and growled, flashing fangs like naked blades in lamplight. Now that he was staring the monstrous cat in the face, he could wrap his mind around just how large it was. No doubt it had grown fat off of the massive lizards that prowled the forest. Its eyes glinted as Gajeel pushed himself back, throwing his mind to finding a way to look for Serrill while this massive predator stared him down, readying itself to leap on him once again.
That's when he heard the flow of water. At first, he didn't understand what it was. The first of a storm falling through the uncut, untamed forest? A river somewhere out of sight? The second option wasn't far from the mark. His hand slipped and he tumbled backward into a crevasse. The big cat jumped for him as he fell, stopping short to glare at him as he fell into pitch darkness and water. He was immediately swept away. Heavy as he was when it came to water, he didn't even have enough time to gulp a breath before he was spinning and rolling, caught in a current that propelled him steeply onward. He couldn't tell up from down and he flailed his hands out around him to try to grasp something, to sink his claws into a riverbed or a cliffside or anything.
He hit something, a large stone jutting up from somewhere, and managed to dig his claws into it. The last of the air in his mouth was torn from his clenched teeth as he held on and pushed himself in the direction he hoped was up. His heart thrummed with an edge of panic when for a moment he found only water, and then he broke the surface. He gulped in air and flailed, his eyes still unable to focus on anything aside from the dark. He felt gravity whisk him downwards, and the current spiraled, dragging him down until he slammed into another wall or stone, he couldn't tell. His claws didn't catch, and so he was carried away, desperately trying to remain at the surface as he tried to figure out why he couldn't see anything. And then it hit him. It was in an underground river, rushing down the mountainside and deeper into the jungle. The thing Erandi had feared when Gajeel had seen his memories of being trapped in the caldera on the other side of the mountain range, the rains flooding the underground caves, the ones Juvia had felt stretching for miles beneath them when they'd been in the Dreadwood. Who knew how many offshoots to this place there were? What if Serrill had been taken somewhere else by the current? What if he hadn't been able to surface?
"Fuck," Gajeel cursed.
As best he could, he took in a deep breath and called Serrill's name. His voice was swallowed by the sound of rapids and the echos of it rang back at him mockingly. He called his name again, trying to angle himself in some way, to prepare for whatever could come next in the fathomless dark around him. That's when he saw a twinkling of something on the water. He was able to see a bend, the dim light the color of washed-out silver. His heart leapt up into his throat as the current turned and sucked him downwards around a curve as if he were no more than a spare leaf caught in a storm drain. The light of Serrill's magic nearly blinded him and he could see the lieutenant hanging on for dear life to a stalactite, his metal arm illuminated where he forced strength in it to not allow him to be dragged away again. The blonde immediately spotted him, his scales no doubt flashing in the light, and he thrust a hand out to him, reaching out as far as he dared. Gajeel grabbed him and the lieutenant groaned from the effort to pull him against the current to the rock he held so steadfastly onto.
It took only seconds for him to get his bearings. There was a crevice in the ceiling above them, so slim he wouldn't have been able to even get his hand through in places. He motioned up to it and Serrill dared to look. Gajeel noticed the man's teeth were already chattering from the frigid water that had no doubt come from the mountaintops.
"It's too small," Serrill yelled over the rapids.
"We're gonna have ta let the current take us and hope for a bigger opening," Gajeel yelled.
"And if there isn't one?"
"You got another idea?" Gajeel replied.
Serrill's jaw tightened and he closed his eyes. He muttered something Gajeel didn't hear and pulled the other man close, "If we die, I'm haunting your ass."
"If we die, I won't be here for you to haunt," Gajeel jabbed back, although neither of them found it all that funny in the moment.
They let go, Serrill's fortification magic the only thing that made it so they could see. He gripped Gajeel's arm as they drifted tens of meters in seconds, the whole time Serrill's eyes were trained to the roof and Gajeel's to their path ahead. Quite suddenly, the seam in the ceiling opened up. For a second they were weightless and suddenly dragged underwater. Gajeel held onto Serrill as best he could, but the current was too strong and they were torn from each other. For an insane moment, Gajeel could do little more than be tossed and turned around under the water. It wasn't until his lungs were screaming for relief before he broke surface again.
They were in a proper river now, and it was quickly widening. Bushes choked the shoreline, making finding a place to get out of the river more difficult. He heard Serrill's voice and looked ahead to see the man grasping onto the limbs of a tree that had somehow split in half. One side still stood tall while the other lay haphazardly over the river, still connected enough to not be pulled into the water and whisked away. Gajeel struggled over to him and grasped the branches, feeling the weight of the entire thing shift further into the rapids. Both of their heads whipped towards the trunk at the sound of snapping.
"Hurry!" Serrill shouted, climbing as best he could to the shore.
The tree groaned and splintered. Gajeel gulped in a breath and the massive half of the tree dropped into the river and he was dragged under with it. When he tried to push himself towards the surface, he felt the limbs entangle into his waterlogged clothes. He thrashed, trying to break free and feeling for all his efforts like a fly caught in a spider's web. The more he struggled, the more futile the effort. He switched gears, turning his arms into lances and lashing out. He felt the tension from branches snapping, but he was already tired from struggling against the river. The frigid cold of the water from the mountaintops made his movements dumb as it seeped into his bones. His chest burned and he needed to breathe.
Something clamped onto his lance. He barely registered that it must have been a hand, massive and curling around his arm as if he were just a child. He was wrenched free of the branches that ensnared him and dragged through the water. He was pulled to the surface and almost violently dragged back above the rapids. He coughed water and twisted, trying to find who had just saved his life only to find himself face to face with something he certainly didn't expect. Large, yellow eyes were trained on the river and Gajeel felt himself be dragged through the current by the chameleon.
"Rut!" he heard Serrill yell, and saw him clambering through the bushes, motioning wildly ahead.
They both turned and Gajeel felt more than heard Rut growl. The frothing water slammed violently against rocks before vanishing. If he weren't currently being dragged to his death by waterfall, Gajeel might have rolled his eyes at this turn of events. Instead, he just held on tightly to the chameleon that twisted its body in the water about as masterfully as a caiman. He dove under, and Gajeel hung on for dear life as Rut tried to navigate the treacherous waters.
The current was too strong. The muscle that rippled under scales wasn't enough to fight it. Slowly at first, and then rapidly, they were dragged backwards towards the falls. Rut, seemingly abandoning his attempt to swim to shore, twisted his body on the water. Gajeel heard the awful screech of claws against stone as the chameleon tried to anchor himself to something. He slipped and tried again, and Gajeel in tandem reached for the same boulder that jutted from the riverbed. He summoned his scales, dug them in, and flinched at the sparks that flew into his face as they dragged down and finally caught. His arms were shaking, his body shivering uncontrollably from the frigid water. He knew he wouldn't be able to hold for long, and if the heaving of the large body pressed close to him was any indication, Rut wouldn't either.
Serrill was pacing from the shore, and from the distance Gajeel could tell he was trying to figure out a way he could help. The trees beyond him swayed. At first, Gajeel thought maybe he was hallucinating, that his body was already beginning to shut down from the exhaustion and cold. His heart seized as something large poked its head from the forest behind Serrill. The blonde froze and whipped his head around just as a massive chameleon, large enough that he dwarfed Serrill as he approached, stepped from the pitch-black jungle. He too, stood on the bank, large reptilian eyes staring, but he seemed to have more purpose in his gaze than Serrill who stood still in alarm. He called something but the water was too loud and Gajeel's mind too muddled for him to attempt to make sense of what he said. The chameleon began removing clothing.
He felt Rut shift in the water, his arms on either side of him in a protective way. His body shook with a growl as he braced against the rock. The chameleon on the shore took a running leap into the river, disappearing immediately beneath the surface. In what felt like both far too long and no time at all, he emerged from the murky water. A massive hand grabbed onto Rut's outstretched arm, engulfing it, and suddenly the air around them shifted. The chameleon, already massive, began to rapidly grow. Gajeel felt something move under him. The chameleon turned into a huge monitor lizard, scooping up beneath the two of them and lifting them out of the water. Rut had him by the arm now, holding him steady as the lizard beneath them turned, striding through the raging river like it was a gentle stream. A clawed hand sank into the silty riverbank where Serrill looked on, mouth agape. Rut scooped him up and slipped off the chameleon's back, landing hard in the mud, and dumping him onto the ground. Serrill was over him in the next instant, he too trembling, though not as much as Gajeel who was so cold and tired he was nearly doubled over, the shivers painful. The exhaustion ran so deep he could no longer maintain his magic enough to continue conjuring his scales. They dissolved away from him, leaving him somehow colder.
Upon reaching the shore, the chameleon that had saved them shrank back down to the size that he had originally been, which was by no means small. He was taller than Rut by at least a head, his long tail coiling around him as he began covering himself once more. Although discerning color in the near-complete dark of the jungle was almost impossible, Gajeel could tell that the fabric was fine. It shimmered silkily as he wrapped it tightly around his waist, bringing it up to drape around his shoulder and pinning it in place with a large, golden pendant with the snarling face of a jaguar in the center, its large fangs curving outward. The chameleon tugged his sash this way and that before huffing and giving up. He picked up a large obsidian knife (although to Gajeel it would have been closer to a sword) and sheathed it at his side.
It was when he was picking up and adjusting his satchel that he finally looked over to them and spoke. His voice was a warm, deep baritone that made the air quake. Rut shifted where he stood.
"A flesh wound." he said. Gajeel noticed he had his fingers curled, his hand held close to his chest. It occurred to him that he must have sliced his hand on his iron lance when he'd dragged him from the tree branches.
The air around them shivered from a deep hum that emanated from the chameleon's chest. It was like a growl except that it lacked in anger or warning. The next thing Gajeel was aware of was the massive creature standing over him. He was motioning to Serrill who just sort of stood staring, completely at a loss of what to say or do. His voice was low and slow, and Gajeel could only barely understand what it said.
"Your clothing will keep the chill of the water," he said.
He gazed down on Gajeel. He motioned with his massive, clawed hand, but Gajeel's mind was too far gone. He didn't even try to understand what he meant. Despite the threat, all he wanted to do was go to sleep. The chameleon didn't wait.
"H-hey..." Gajeel protested weakly.
He handled him as if he were a child; pulling his shirt free and off, he rung it out as best he could and handed it over to Serrill who clumsily followed suit.
"D-do you mind tell us who we should be thanking for the assistance?" Serrill asked.
"I am Rhuntak, Master of the Yaoyo. I keep the forest, and I keep those in it as well," he said, the depth of his voice making the air teem. He squatted down, an action that made Serrill tense. He was nearly eye to eye with him and he tilted his head. His eyes flashed in the darkness, "You are not lizardfolk, nor are you from the people that share these lands with us. I sense no mark on you, and you smell of magic."
"Yes, well... we exactly aren't from around here-"
"Do you mean harm, little wizard?"
Unperturbed, Serrill cleared his throat, tapping into the charm Gajeel had been witness to when they had spoken with Madame Guéneva, "No, um... we came here looking to help some friends."
"They follow the Favorite Son," Rut said. Rhuntak turned his head to looked at him over his shoulder, "To the Temple of the Moon."
"The Favorite Son returns to the temple?" the chameleon said, mirthless and stern, "Has he decided he is not above his kind, after all?"
"He didn't have a choice."
Rhuntak paused, clearly considering what had been said.
"None of us do, it seems."
He took in a deep breath that rattled deep in his chest and let it out slowly. It filled the air with the smell of sour meat. The chameleon turned his attention back to he and Serrill, and he nodded his head as if deciding something.
"This place is not safe for the mages. Come."
His hand nearly engulfed Gajeel's arm as he helped him to his feet. With that he lumbered forward, and where he walked he trampled a path in the forest. He barely looked at them as he passed, but his eye did brush over Gajeel with a curiosity that confused him.
Serrill followed the beast readily, seemingly not worried in the slightest by the giant creature leading the way into a dark forest to some new, undisclosed location. Gajeel noticed Rut hesitate before he lifted some massive form on the ground. He stiffened, shocked by the realization that the thing on the ground staring with wide, dead eyes was the jaguar that had chased them earlier. There was no blood on it, and it lay limp at Rut's feet. Gajeel realized its neck had been snapped.
Rut effortlessly slung it over his shoulders. His spine was hunched, and he walked on in a way that reminded Gajeel of a petulant teen that had just been scolded, like he was ashamed. Gajeel stood in the darkness for a moment before begrudgingly going as well. His stomach knotted, though, as he watched how closely Serrill kept to their guide.
"Do you mind telling us where we're going?" Serrill asked.
"The old inner city. The jaguars are bold here. They do not often see humans. They will hunt you if they cannot smell us near." the chameleon said, "We sleep in the ruins, so they keep away. You will be safe there until the morning, and we can guide you to the temple. The path is easier there."
"We?" Serrill asked, "Are there a lot of you?"
"More now than what I would like, but such is the beast of it." he said sounding almost as if he were bored.
"The beast?" Serrill said, his voice lilting slightly as if he were going to chuckle, "I'm afraid I don't understand."
The chameleon stopped and turned its giant head to look at Serrill and then to Gajeel. His tongue slid from his mouth, dry like a snake's and black, taking stock of the three of them. When he spoke again, his voice pitched low.
"You said you follow the Favorite Son... to the Temple of the Moon?"
"Yes." Serrill said, looking up at him like a child explaining what they'd been up to, "To help a friend of ours. He's travelling with another wizard. We think he's ill."
"Ill?" he asked, "Then why does he go to the Temple of the Moon?"
"He doesn't." Rut said, "The Favorite Son goes to the Temple of the Moon. The mage goes to the Temple of the Sun."
Gajeel's stomach plummeted. His voice fled him, and the word came out like a curse. "What?"
The large chameleon's eyes dropped to him. His nostrils flared and the air shivered from the deep rumble that came from his chest. He squatted down, his tail coiling around him.
"You are not of the congregation." he stated, and his eyes flashed to Rut, "Why do you come here?"
"Just as we said," Serrill said at his side, rolling his metal shoulder in its socket to keep himself from becoming stiff, "To help a friend."
"Father is consuming the wizard," Rut said, "The Favorite Son made a barter. He goes to his temple to reaffirm the Rite. The wizard goes to the Hungry One to be severed from Father."
"Reaffirm?" The massive lizard furrowed his brow and bared his teeth, "He found a way to escape Father?"
Rut made a sound of affirmation, "A way to escape the call."
The larger chameleon's spine stiffened, his eyes widened, "Could he do it again?"
"He believes it will be harder this time. Before, he was a child, the blood was human. Now, he gives his consent knowingly and the blood is of the Yohual."
"Ah..." the chameleon said, the tip of his tail flicking upwards like a cat's as he spoke. His tongue lashed out again and his voice was quiet with disappointment or sorrow, "I should have known better than to hope."
"What is the call?" Serrill asked. In the darkness, Gajeel could see his mouth was turned down in a frown, "It sounds... bad."
The corner of the chameleon's lip tugged up just slightly in a way meant to be reassuring but was altogether unsettling to Gajeel, "It is nothing for you to worry on, little mage. You will be safe with the Yaoyo."
"Of course," Serrill smiled as if he had known all along, "But, Dav-… The Favorite Son is also my friend. If it's something that hurts him, I'd like to help if I can."
"It is more likely to hurt you, little mage." he huffed and stood, "Come. We will walk."
"Is it far?" Serrill asked, sighing.
Gajeel noticed he was rubbing at his shoulder where his prosthesis connected. Gajeel, too, found himself getting tired. The travel in the desert sun, their run through the forest, and then their near-drowning in the frigid river had taken a toll on him as well. His joints ached. He could only imagine how Serrill must feel. The chameleon's tongue flashed out as he gazed at them, and Gajeel assumed it could sense their weariness.
"Not far, little mages. It is just a little farther more, and then you can rest soundly."
The jungle was near pitch black now, and the sounds of night had begun. Cicadas and crickets and other buzzing and screaming insects lulled into a midnight song. Things scurried away from them as they passed through the thick wood. The chameleon that led their way was stealthy in a way that bothered Gajeel. Now that he wasn't clearly making his presence known, he slipped into a silence that spoke of familiarity and of training. He was quiet unconsciously, and it was unsettling.
As they walked, he spoke. The warm depth of his voice kept the darkness at bay. He meandered unhurriedly, as if he had not a care in the world. Rut slouched after, eyes trained on the ground.
"You said you're the master of the Yaoyo," Serrill said, sticking near to his side, "Does that mean you protect everyone?"
"In a way, little mage." He hummed, and the sound trembled the air. He seemed amused, "Master of the Yaoyo tribe means I am expected to be a wise a leader until the day someone else is deemed Master, by my death or someone else more suitable staking their claim."
"Someone challengesss you?" Rut remarked, "Not one who would last long."
"The house is not mine by blood, little cousin, as you well know."
"Ha! By blood asss much as any other."
"Are you not the son of the passed Master?"
"I am the bassstard son of his mate, and hisss murderer." Rut bared his teeth in the darkness, "The house is yoursss. I've been forced onto a different path already, tied to the fate of The Favorite Son."
Rhuntak hummed as he lumbered, "Then Master, I am."
"The call you spoke of?" Serrill prompted, "What is it? Does it happen at specific times or…?"
"To speak of such things is treacherous." He said, placing his hand on a palm and felling the thing as if it were mere branch in his way. It groaned as it fell and the sound of its falling echoed in the distance. Small creatures fled into the underbrush. A bird startled and screamed as it flew.
His tongue flashed as he stepped out into an apparent clearing. Despite the darkness, there was an ambient light about the place, seething up out of somewhere so that Gajeel could see quite clearly. They were on the road again, and ruins crumbled around them. Trees choked the remains of the city, breaking through brick and stone. Vines and roots draped and slithered across the pathways. The chameleon reached out towards one of the branches and plucked a heavy fruit, and then another, offering one to Serrill who took it tentatively, looking at Rhuntak with a clear lack of understanding. He shot Gajeel a look. He shrugged and made a who knows sort of gesture with his hand.
"This was once grand, though none who remembers its name or story remains now. The elders thought it best to let these places fade from memory. Why, we don't know. Perhaps a sense of guilt for action not taken," he said, leading their way down the old, decrepit street. It was large, wider than most of the roads in Magnolia, "Sometimes when I walk this place alone and the mist comes down from the mountains, I think I can feel the energy of the place change. Younglings played in these streets, once. Mothers and fathers wove baskets and kept the trees, tended crops towards the outskirts, hunted deer, brought food home to their families. They didn't barter the service of tooth and claw for the charity of the nearby nations... that is what I like to think."
Serrill shot Gajeel a look, confused. He still held the fruit in his hand, green and fitting into his palm easily. Gajeel looked from the fruit to the chameleon, and he thought he might know what was going on. Gajeel knew what it was like to have a force hovering over you, watching your every move for a slip up, a moment of weakness. In his time in Phantom, there were many times he'd had to send messages in ways that were unconventional. But the lizardman was huge, and from what he'd said to Serrill, high ranking. Gajeel's heart made a misstep as he considered that such a beast would be so scared as to conceal his true intentions. And why here, now, when it was just the four of them? His eyes flashed to the shadows of crumbling doorways, to the mist in the road.
"What happened here?" Gajeel asked.
"War... and fear." Rhuntak said, and after a long pause he breathed in deeply, thoughtfully, "There is a lullaby passed down from this place. I have sung it to my own daughter."
"A lullaby?" Serrill wrinkled his nose slightly. He shot a glance to Gajeel, swirling his finger in a circle to imply Rhuntak was mad.
"Not big on fairy tales, Serrill?" Gajeel grunted, giving him a meaningful look.
The chameleon's head turned slightly towards him, his reptilian eye taking him in. Gajeel stuffed his hands into his pockets and gritted his teeth. He didn't like its attention on him almost as much as he didn't like Rut, but he seemed gentler despite the fact he had seemingly killed an apex predator with his bare hands.
"La Divinora, was defined by its fear. In times of trial, the people look to their leader, but he had gone. The last words he had given to his council before he had left was of warning. Something lurked in the jungle outside of La Divinora. Nameless, shapeless, but clinging to everything like the mist from the mountains, it had a great shadow. Words of guidance were passed, and younglings were raised not to go into the jungle, certainly not alone. They sang a song, a lullaby, the same that has been passed to our children, now.
"Stay, stay, little heart, stray not to the forest edge
For the snake is in the vines and it will wrap around your head
Stay, stay, little heart, it will call you to the wood
Beneath the root and flower bloom, it eats you til you're dead.
Oh, dear little heart, do not listen to its song
Run from the call and be content, stay where it's safe with me."
There was boy called Olli, a boy with scales the color of sapphire, his father, one of the sacred feathers, lost to war. To him songs were only songs, legend only legend. There are snakes in the wood large enough to eat a deer or a man. To him, that was all the song was; a warning for the small ones not to stray where the larger beasts could snatch them. He did not fear the forest. He found great beauty there, peace. He roamed the footpaths alone, despite his mother's warning not to."
The ruins they were walking through now were in less of a state of disrepair than what they had run into earlier. In the misty distance, Gajeel could see the dance of firelight casting stark shadows against the stone walls. His eyes swept over the street, pointedly taking in the encroaching darkness. As subtly as he could, he took in a deep breath but there was no scent of desert, just the humid jungle, the smoke of fires. Then, his eyes were drawn to movement. On one of the half-fallen walls, a large, looming shape shifted, then scrambled to its feet. A chameleon, and its eyes flashed in the light as it whipped its head towards them. He dropped from the wall and stood back straight as they approached. It was obvious to Gajeel that this was guard caught slacking off and trying to save face. Serrill hadn't seen anything, but he'd heard, and stared questioningly into the darkness around them. Rhuntak's gaze again lingered on Gajeel for just a moment too long.
"One day, when the boy was wandering through the trees, he heard something shift on the wind. A quiet whisper came from the forest, beckoning him near. Of course, the boy needed no prompting, for he adored the forest. And on this day, the perfume of new life, the recent rain, the rotting of what was underfoot, the balance of life and death, rebirth, was intoxicating. He wandered until he came to a great tree, the branches so grand they held up the sky above him; the roots reached down into the underworld, uniting the heaven and the world of the dead. Coiled on top of the large roots was a viper the color of blue that rivalled his own, a crown of feathers around its neck. Olli did not fear the viper, though he knew of its venomous bite, and bite him it did."
Gajeel tried to remain calm as they approached the source of the light. There, in the doorway of a decrepit building haphazardly turned into a shelter, a shadow moved. Eyes flashed in the darkness, and then several more pairs behind them as heads turned to watch who approached. Another figure hunched atop a wall made a motion to Rhuntak as they passed, his head bowing slightly, shifting eyes trained on the two wizards.
"But the boy did not perish. Instead, the serpent wrapped around his arm and turned into the raised scars of the sacred marks, the bands of it coiling up his arms and covering his skin. He could feel the forest around him in a way he never had before, saw the spirits of the land. He was at peace, he was whole."
Gajeel could hear voices. Hisses and grunts and an odd bark of a sound that punctured the darkness with something warm. When they neared, though, the voices lowered to a murmur. A group of lizardfolk were surrounding the fire. A pair of them was playing some sort of boardgame with beans. Others crouched or stood in small huddles, talking with fruits in hand or the same long blades Rhuntak had. All of them stilled as the four of them went by, shooting nervous looks to one another. One of them made a symbol with his hands, as if warding himself from their presence. Gajeel didn't know what to think of it.
"But his peace did not stay for long, for he had strayed from the path. When he returned home, changed and no longer recognizable to her, his mother ran to the counsel. Though he was different, he was still devout. He knew what it meant when the counsel and the elders of La Divinora gathered together. Scared as they were of the forest and the viper, they dragged him from his home and under the threat of an obsidian blade forced him to show them to the tree. They felled the tree, cut the head from the serpent, and killed the boy in what remained of the clearing. Satisfied that their task was done and it was good, they returned to the city and slept peacefully."
They came to what looked like a courtyard. Around them were stone buildings, ancient but somehow withstanding the test of time. The trees in the courtyard all bared fruit, large and low hanging. Berry bushes and other plants ran rampant, and a stream flowed through. A garden, Gajeel realized. The buildings had painted reliefs covering them with great serpents with feathers coiled around pillars, and chameleons wearing skull headdresses. Symbols were etched in the stone alongside the great frescoes, symbols Gajeel could almost read. There were curtains pulled back in the doorways, showing mostly barren rooms with bedrolls on the ground. Torches flickered sullenly inside, illuminating more sculptures decorating the walls of the room.
"No one knows from whom the revenge came, but it is said that it came in the night, starting with the most devout. A call, a hunger, that was impossible to satisfy. It grew until the one afflicted could no longer control it. They would lash out with violence, and at the sight of fresh blood would devour anyone near. The ones with sacred blood were afflicted first, then the counsel, the pious. One by one, they turned on each other, killing indiscriminately until only a few remained. And the few that remained hid in terror of each other and what they had named Z'lamád de oro thino."
"Named... what?" Serrill asked, thoroughly confused.
"The call of the wrathful god." Gajeel muttered and watched as recognition sparked in Serrill's eyes.
"Davian mentioned that once... he said it makes him feel violent."
"Telling the mages ghost stories?"
Gajeel nearly jumped out of his skin. Another one of the massive creatures stood behind them and he hadn't sensed any sign of approach. Serrill, too, was shocked. Their guide made a noise deep in his chest.
"It is a good story for little wizards lost in the forest," Rhuntak responded, "A warning to stay near."
The chameleon who stood with them now was not Rhuntak's height, nearly Rut's. He wore a wrap around his waist similar in style to their guide, but not nearly as nice. It was one color, and torn in places, lacking in any defining features and clasped in place with a simple brass pin.
"A good story then," he said, eyeing the leopard over Rut's shoulders. When he spoke again, it was in the chameleon's language. "The others are nervous."
"Nervous?" Rhuntak said, his voice lilting slightly. "Could not any one of them eat a man whole, should they choose?"
Gajeel clenched his fists. Rhuntak's eyes darted to him, taking notice.
"The red-eyed one is marked."
Rhuntak made a noise of understanding, "It is the duty of the Master of the House to know these things. You have nothing to fear. Tell the scouts to double, if it suits you. I will join them soon."
The other chameleon made a gesture and then turned, lumbering back to camp with a silken sort of silence that made Gajeel's hair stand on end. Something so large shouldn't be allowed to make such little sound.
"What was that about?" Serrill asked, rubbing his shoulder.
"Your friend's presence makes the others worry over shadows," Rhuntak said keenly, and Gajeel thought he understood what he meant. The shadow, Father. But why would they be on guard? Wasn't Father their leader? He was confused. What did all this mean? And the story? What was Rhuntak getting at?
"Shadows?" Serrill asked.
Rhuntak held up a hand to silence him and instead led them to one of the stone buildings covered in reliefs. Gajeel and Serrill entered, finding bedrolls on the floor, a small altar with a lamp burning and a few baskets of those same fruits that Rhuntak had handed them as they'd walked. It was… strangely homey. There were curtains in the doorways for privacy, and the place was decorated with jaguar skins, shells, and long bird feathers in brilliant fans. It was lavish. Gajeel didn't know what to think.
Rut made a noise in the doorway.
"You can rest here, little wizards. In the morning, we will go to the temple." Rhuntak said, and then retreated into the darkness outside. "Little cousin, come. There is something I wish to discuss with you."
Serrill whistled as he walked around, "You know, Davian made it sound like they lived in caves. I wasn't expecting all this."
Gajeel ran his eyes over the reliefs around them. They were like the carvings on the walls of Oragatohl'I in style but none of these people were in worship. They were lizardfolk, though, with large, feathered headdresses. There was one on the wall, larger than the others, and he gazed with piercing eyes from a throne, looking down on the rest.
"I can tell you're thinking about something," Serrill sighed as he sank to the floor, "What is it?"
"The chameleons when we came in…"
"Hm?" Serrill was laying out his damp shirt, eyes sunken in his exhaustion, "What about them?"
"Did they seem nervous to you?"
"A little. Makes sense, really. We haven't really gotten along with them… historically speaking."
"There are dozens of them and two of us," Gajeel said pointedly, "and... Rhuntak said any one of them could swallow us whole if they wanted."
"When did he say that?" Serrill asked, his brow furrowing.
"I can... sort of understand what they're saying."
Serrill's eyes lit up a bit, "What? Since when?"
"That's not the point," Gajeel bit back, "If they can all turn into... that giant lizard thing... why would they be nervous?"
"I'll think on it... let you know what I come up with tomorrow." Serrill shrugged as he sank down onto the bedroll. He stretched and massaged his shoulder absent-mindedly, "Did he say anything else I should know about?"
"When he said they were nervous about shadows... I'm pretty sure they were talking about Father."
"Hm... guess that means they're like Davian, then." Serrill muttered, his eyes drooping.
"How do you mean?" Gajeel asked, scrunching his nose.
"Didn't you know? He's terrified of It." Serrill sighed.
"He's terrified of It changing him." Gajeel corrected. "Of losing control."
Serrill's eyes were shut now, and his words were muddled with sleep, "Both... it's both."
A moment later, Serrill was asleep. Gajeel couldn't deny that he was also exhausted, but he didn't trust the chameleons outside. Thinking of them and their preternatural silence, he didn't douse the lamp. He did pull the curtains down, though, and sat down against wall next to the doorway. Despite his mistrust, his eyelids quickly grew heavy, and he fell asleep leaning back against the wall, listening to the sounds of the rainforest outside.
Gajeel was dreaming that he was standing inside the Auré's catacomb, his lighter in one hand and a feather in the other, staring at the ceiling as a golden serpent coiled around and around. Its mouth was open, fangs flashing. Just as it was about to bite onto its own tail, Gajeel's eyes shot open. All of the hair on his arms and the back of his neck stood on end, and he sat frozen in place, his heart pounding. He knew immediately what had awoken him. Something very close, maybe even right beside him, had taken a deep breath in and sighed it back out again.
For a moment he waited there, eyes locked on the curtain. Was it one of the chameleons? Were they just on the other side of it waiting for him to stumble out and into some trap? As he sat listening and waiting, he heard another noise, a sliding of something against something. His heart was throbbing up into his ears and he had to force himself to calm. Slowly, quietly, he raised himself to his feet and peeked out and into the waiting darkness. It was still the inky pitch of night on the other side of the curtain, and though his inner clock told him it had been a few hours since he had fallen asleep, he had no idea what the time was. He heard the sliding sound again and glanced farther out into garden, pulling the curtain back as he realized no one was around. A bit of motion caught his attention, disappearing into the long grasses.
He wasn't sure what compelled him to move. There was a feeling deep in his gut that whatever the noise was, he needed to get the bottom of it. He let the curtain fall back behind him as he stalked out into the night. His eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness, that same ambient light allowing him to see as he moved like a shadow through the grass and in between fruiting trees. He breathed deeply, taking in the rich scents of forest, fruit, and the distinctive musk of reptiles. His skin prickled when he heard the sound of something slithering through the underbrush. He changed course and followed the sound as it retreated deeper into the garden. The trees grew steadily older, larger. They were the kind of trees that spoke of time and its great and inherent passage.
He was in the garden of the royal suite, the room he and Serrill had been sleeping in had one belonged to someone of great importance. How did he know this? Aside from the grand nature of the reliefs, their details and the paint that still showed in washed-out frescos, he wasn't sure. He just... knew. Just as he knew he had to follow what had made that noise.
A stone obelisk jutted out from ground, crooked and slouching under the weight of vines. At first, Gajeel thought it was a tombstone but no, that was just what happened to limestone when left under the relentless downpours of the rainforest for so many millennia. Looming in the distant mist, Gajeel could make out the shape of another, and then another even farther. Like trail markers, he followed them deeper into the fog, ignoring the skittering of creatures that startled from him as he went. The next one that he came to made him realize they weren't obelisks or tombstones or markers, but rather statues. He gazed upon the stoney face, carved in high-relief, of a chameleon with a headdress, though covered in moss and vines and streaked from the weather. The next was in even poorer shape, missing the face and with flecks of paint still clinging to the relief like hope. There were several of them, growing closer and closer together; he passed eons trapped in stone and mortar and rotting paint. Before each one was a small stone resting at their feet.
Quite suddenly, the garden stopped. Like a barrier that inhibited the torpid and relentless reclamation of the forest surrounding it, there were no trees sprouting here. No ferns or grasses. The midnight song of insects dulled as he passed the threshold to barren, dry dirt. He realized that the enigmatic ambient light came from the full moon now resting on the shoulders of the mountains, previously obscured to him by the ocean of trees. In the brilliant moonlight, Gajeel could see with striking clarity the tall, sculpted stone as if it had been made and painted mere days ago. It was painted in a brilliant and rich blue, a shimmering blue, an opalescent, decadent blue. Every detail was new and sharp, lifelike down to the scales and their rounded tips. Feathers looked as if a gentle wind would cause them to sway. But... there was something wrong with the eyes. It was so odd to him that the sculptor would pay such close and considerate care to each feature, even down to the stitching on the chameleon's luxuriant robes and skirts, the individual hairs in each feather, and yet leave the eyes so vacant and glossy-gold. There was no iris, no pupil. It was if no eyes were sculpted at all, just the holes carved and then filled with polished gold spheres. They weren't mortal eyes. They were eyes that had seen too much, eyes that see too much. They were eyes that couldn't see what stood before them anymore, they saw only the depths of eternity. They were eyes that saw unquantifiable things, things that couldn't be expressed or understood or grasped with two hands.
A piece of the vibrant blue paint peeled and flecked away, flittering down like ash and revealing gold beneath. Gajeel's hand twitched. He became aware of the blade strapped to his ankle, sheathed safely in his boot.
How odd that such an imperfection would appear while he stood there when it had stood so pristinely for generations. For over three hundred years this piece had stood here in this vacant grove, this absence of time and space, and yet now the paint had begun to peel? There was a crack where the imperfection had fled, now tarnishing the integrity of the paint around it. It peeled back and revealed more of the gold beneath, flecking away piece by piece and disappearing on the air. Perhaps this statue hadn't been carved from stone at all because with each tiny piece that fled away there was more gold beneath. Had it been cast in gold or painted that way? Was it real? Should he t ttoø ôūu çch h iį ít?
Gajeel's hand twitched and he felt... he felt like he wanted to çcć cūu ut t himself-
There was a crack in the gold, striking upwards where the paint had fled. There was black underneath. A ribcage. A rotting corpse was beneath it. It wasn't a statue at all, it was a cast, an iron maiden, and blood was seeping from its feet killing anything that dared to grow. This was a holy place. Nothing could grow here.
He wasn't sure when he had pulled out his knife. Gajeel's hand twitched.
The children are watching. There are people praying at the base of the temple. The equinox is approaching and you have to ; ;.-'; b bbe ę c cl éea nñn -,..;#
A hand reached out toward him and he stared at it, at the blue flaking away to decaying gold and then deep and striking black. There were black talons that curled maliciously upwards. His hand twitched.
You are creation both haunted and holy, nearly complete, nearly complete, w woø ul dn't .- ' yyÿo óø õ u ú.- ~_-l lłli ke ęe*^,#`~_- t tto.;#;.- ; b bë ee. ;- .,/, bb eæ a uû tti ifu ll l;-? -;; . , ?,?
"That is not wise, little wizard."
Gajeel froze. Something slithered swiftly into the underbrush. He was staring down at his hand, his knife pressed against it. Slowly, and with a tremble that he couldn't stifle making his bones quake, he drew his eyes up to the statue before him. It was washed out and decrepit painted limestone. There was no gold, and the blue paint had long faded from time. The eyes were not shining orbs, but rather just carved stone.
Gajeel realized he was breathing heavily. He couldn't catch his breath. He was shaking and his mind couldn't wrap around what he had just seen, what had just happened. Why was he holding his knife?
A large hand enveloped his own, slowly drawing his knife away from his flesh. Gajeel didn't need to look up to know it was Rhuntak towering over him. Whatever was left of the spell that had taken him over was dashed away by the warm hum of his that seemed to express something that Gajeel couldn't yet pinpoint. With shaking hands, he sheathed his knife. As he bent down, he saw that at the foot of the relief was an altar and a bowl. He realized that if he hadn't been stopped, he would have slit his wrist right above it. Blood, his blood, would be in that bowl...
Rhuntak was holding out a fist when he raised himself back up again. He nodded down to the altar and motioned for him to open his hand. Gajeel did and the huge chameleon dropped a brilliant teal feather into his hand. Gajeel wrinkled his nose in response.
"Leave it as an offering." he said in a quiet voice, "It will ease the intensity of the call."
Gajeel did as he was told, setting the thing down gingerly. By the time he had straightened once more, Rhuntak was already leaving him. Gajeel didn't think, he only reacted, bounding after the massive thing as if it were completely natural to follow an uncannily stealthy lizard-man into the rainforest in the middle of the night.
"What call?" Gajeel demanded, "What keeps happening to me? Why the fuck do I keep seeing things when I'm around you people? Hey! Answer me!"
Rhuntak stopped then and turned his predatory gaze to him, "Because you are marked."
"I'm... I'm not marked." he argued.
"Yes, you are, and you came about it willingly." he stated, a snarl sneaking up into his tone, "Tell me it is not true, little wizard, and I will tell you how I know you are a liar."
"I don't... It-it wasn't..." Gajeel stuttered, clenching his fists, "I didn't... I didn't have a choice!"
"Did you not?" Rhuntak growled, "Was it your blood, then, little wizard? Is the divine in you?"
"The divine...?"
"No. You are not. You are the spawn of dragons and you smell of magic. There is no divine in you, little wizard," the chameleon stated, turning as he did and heading farther into the garden, "If not your blood, then who made you barter with the shadow? Did someone drag you to an altar?"
"Yes!" Gajeel yelled back at him, "I was..." a shivered ripped down his spine, "I was..."
"Did they make you summon the shadow?" Rhuntak's voice was hard, his words devolving into a hiss. Gajeel had to run to keep from losing him. In the darkness and the mist, he could barely glance the end of his tail whipping away.
"I didn't summon anything!" he screamed, breathless. They were going uphill and he had no idea where he was anymore.
Suddenly, Rhuntak appeared in the mist. He had stopped and turned around on him, baring his serrated teeth as he spoke. Gajeel had to dig his heels into the ground to keep from running into him.
"Did they force you to speak to It?" he growled, low and menacingly, "Did they force you to offer It blood?"
Cold fingers threaded themselves around Gajeel's heart as he stood before the hulking lizardman. His chest was heaving, his mind couldn't summon the words he needed to say. He stood before the Master of the Yaoyo and realized that he could say nothing in his defense. Something about that made him feel hopeless.
"I didn't... know." he breathed at last and nearly collapsed, "She hurt me... I wanted her dead."
Reptilian eyes softened. He took a deep breath in and once again turned from him. They were now on the top of a great hill dotted here and there with the ruins of a once grand building. Gajeel could see the remnants of reliefs and carvings scattered about. Rhuntak sat on one of the stones, his long tail curling around his feet protectively as he did. Gajeel stepped up to his side and followed his gaze out over the remains of what used to be houses an unfathomable amount of time ago.
"Are you marked?" Gajeel asked.
"No... my daughter is." he said, and for the first time since meeting him, Gajeel felt his voice was no longer warm.
"Then why are you here?" he said, feeling a sudden rush and anger and confusion, "Shouldn't you be keeping her safe?"
Rhuntak's tongue lashed out angrily.
"Months ago, she told me of a shadow that came to her in her dreams. It claimed that it could make her perfect should she gather some things... say a prayer. I have warned her against such things, but the Shadow is persistent. There will come a day when my warning will not outweigh Its hunger. When Father wants something, It will take it. It cares not about the lives It ruins, or the pain It causes... the body It uses... I fear the body it would use..." he took in a breath and sighed it back out again as nearly a hiss, "So I will stay here."
Gajeel felt like all the wind had been punched out of his lungs. This thing, this chameleon, this massive thing that was also the Master of the House, high ranking and powerful and strong, was hiding from his family because of Father? Because Father could make him turn against them? He shook his head, disbelief rushing through his chest.
How? How? It was chameleons that hurt him, that framed him, that stalked him and tied him down to a table and... and now he was to believe they could be a victim just as much as he? He remembered that Laxus had said Kahli, the one that had followed him for so long, was killed by Father. Davian, who had framed him for murder, had spoken as if terrified of what Father would do to him. Rut had saved him and Serrill from a river but also had eaten human children. Erandi, young and terrified, had clutched to his leg like a lost child while also being complicit in Krew's kidnapping. And now he was standing in an ancient and decaying city of stone, something lost to the ages, a monument to a once great nation that had been torn apart, and surrounded by huge monsters that could transform into even larger monsters, and they act as if he was the one they should be frightened of? Because he was marked?
Marked by Father.
Was he completely wrong? Were they all helpless victims in this?
He remembered Bianca. He remembered what she'd done to him. The feel of her nails tearing apart stitches and the smile on her face when he screamed. He remembered Orotrushit and how he'd revelled in holding him down on the altar, how he'd dragged terrible things from the back of his mind, things he didn't want to remember. Things that hurt. His stomach twisted and he wanted to throw up.
No. They weren't all victims.
Complicated. It was complicated. But he didn't want it to be complicated. It was so much easier to hate them all, to blame their entire race for what was happening. If they were all evil and bloodthirsty monsters, he didn't have to care what happened to them. He didn't have to care who he hurt in order to get to Father because they deserved it! He didn't like the shades of grey, the variance, the innocents. He didn't like that Rhuntak was sitting there looking at him like he knew what Gajeel was gong through because it was happening to someone he loved as well, because he had probably seen this before, time and time again. And if he had seen it before and no one had been able to stop it yet, how was he supposed to be different?
Gajeel wasn't sure when he'd fallen to his knees, but digging his nails into the dirt somehow made him feel better. He shut his eyes against the thoughts swirling in his head and pretended he didn't feel utterly hopeless.
"Has it always been this way?" he asked, choking over something that had gathered in his throat.
"No." Rhuntak said, "But it is dangerous to speak of such things."
Gajeel furrowed his brow and went to speak but Rhuntak once again made that deep rumble in his chest. He followed his gaze out to the valley below and watched as the moon dipped beneath mountain. Shadow fell over the valley and it began to sparkle. Gajeel rose to his feet, confused.
"What... is that?"
"Metal." Rhuntak said, "From the breath of a dragon."
"Dad?!" Gajeel gasped and without a second thought he took off towards it. He bounded through the ruined landscape, the deep scar cutting into the ground now overgrown with flora. He didn't know what he was looking for really, he just desperately wanted to get to it. In moments he was walking through crumbled pathways that glittered with tarnished iron slivers, the remnant of an Iron Dragon's Roar from eons ago.
He had been here!
Ha had... been here...
Gajeel stood in the midst of destruction. It was obvious to him now why such a great city had been abandoned and left to rot. Rhuntak had said it plainly what had happened to this place. War and fear. And if his story was one of the fear, then his father was that piece of war.
Gajeel looked around him at broken pieces of wall and shattered pottery, glass, stone, and all of those things that could not be eroded by time. This place had once been devoid of trees and filled with Davian's people. Men, women, children, warriors and civilians. Then war, then fear, and now it was just jungle.
And now Gajeel was even more confused than he ever was before because why. Why had his father been here? What had he been fighting? Was he the reason that the chameleons were driven from this place? Was he trying to kill Father and failed? Is that what this was? Revenge? Things that Papá Omara had said to him began ringing in his ears; things about old gods and dragons fighting, about the son of the dragon that had killed Aowas or Oros or whatever killing It again and his already simmering blood was starting to froth into a rolling boil.
"I don't understand!" He raged, as he turned in a circle around him.
"You can't get answers from a graveyard, little wizard," Rhuntak said, sitting now on a crumbling wall, "All that lingers here is the jungle and the mist."
"You knew I was a dragon slayer," Gajeel snarled, rounding on him, "You knew my father did this, he destroyedyour city."
"To what point, little wizard?" The lizard-man hummed, nonplussed.
"Why did you help me by the statue? In the river?"
"I am Master of the House. I protect the forest and all in it." He replied simply.
"I'm the son of the dragon who killed your ancestors!" Gajeel snapped at him.
Rhuntak dropped down from his perch and rose to his full height before him. Gajeel had nearly forgotten how large he was. He towered over him, a giant of seven feet tall, baring his teeth and flashing his tail from side to side. Instinctively, Gajeel drew up his iron scales.
"And I am of Father, who has marked you for some vile and restless death. Because we are the spawn of two that fought some ancient battle, that means we are constrained to their rules? Do we completely lack our own free will?"
"I…" Gajeel hesitated, "How do you know I'm not a threat?'
"Ha!" Rhuntak bellowed, a laugh that bounced like boulders down a cliff-face, harsh, unrelenting, and mirthless. His eyes flashed in the darkness, "Are you a threat, little wizard?'
Gajeel's heart leaped into his throat, and his eyes darted to the obsidian blade strapped to the creature's side.
"It is not the blade you should fear, son of the dragon, but my teeth." He spoke lowly, his deep voice echoing off the broken ground. Rhuntak didn't move to strike him. He stared him down for a moment and the harsh edges of him smoothed. He took a deep breath and let it rumble out of his chest. "You and I are not enemies, dragon slayer. Do not pick fights with those who mean you no harm."
Gajeel blinked and reluctantly dropped his iron shield. Rhuntak crossed his arms and looked down at him. He reminded Gajeel of Hajime after he'd just given him a lecture. Perhaps it was because they were both fathers.
"Will you tell me something?" Gajeel asked, "You called Father the Shadow, and you said It uses bodies. Is It… a spirit?"
Rhuntak's eyes darted to the side, a nervous gesture that didn't seem so when on one such as he, "It needs a body to interact with this world."
"Is that what I'm for? A body?' Gajeel asked.
Rhuntak shook his head, "I do not know the will of The Divine. There are only two who do."
"Who?" Gajeel demanded.
"The Favorite Son," he said, "and The Hungry One."
"The Hungry One?' Gajeel asked, "Orotrush-"
Rhuntak suddenly bared his teeth and growled, "Do not say his name."
Gajeel sighed and stepped up to a large stone. Along with the imperfections of time, he could see the glittering rust embedded into it.
"The Major... The Favorite Son doesn't know what Father wants me for." he mumbled, "He just keeps saying Father wants him to take Its place, but he doesn't know why that would need me."
"Is that the lie he was told? How foolish." Rhuntak made a noise at the back of his throat, a chuckle, and shook his head, "The Favorite Son will not take Father's place."
Gajeel furrowed his brow, "He has to, don't he? That's the whole point."
"The story I told you, of the boy Olli?" he smirked, "Who do you think told him not to go into the forest?"
Gajeel blinked, confused. What did it matter who told him not to go into the forest? Didn't the story revolve around him going anyway and being killed for it? A cautionary tale?
There was a sudden commotion. White blurred and wrapped around a great black throat. Gajeel nearly fell from his seat and, much to his surprise, Rhuntak took a protective step in front of him. One of the anak was biting down on a large, white serpent. In vain, it struck at the six-foot lizard's face, neck, eyes, in a desperate attempt to get away but its scales were too strong. After just a couple of moments, it lay limp in the anak's jaws. Red frothed from its mouth as it began tearing into its meal.
"The fuck..." Gajeel grimaced.
"A bad omen," Rhuntak hummed, "I am sure you do not know much about our culture, young wizard. Before you get to the temple, there is something you must remember."
"Hm?" Gajeel asked, stepping around the entanglement of predators.
"Oros is always shown by earthly visage, the feathered serpent." he said.
A strange stillness descended, and Gajeel realized that the wind had stopped. Then, a cool breeze kicked up, growing steadily stronger. The mist that had clung to the trees was being brushed away. Rhuntak whipped his head towards the mesa to the east where Gajeel and Serrill had come from. His long black tongue tasted the air and Gajeel knew deep down that something was wrong. The dry air from the desert was falling into the valley, and somehow, it brought with it a storm.
"We need to get you back to the inner city, little mage," he hissed, "Something strange is happening."
"Strange?" Gajeel winced. A gust of wind whisked leaves past his face. He heard the sound of a palm groaning as it fell, "Like what?"
"I do not know."
He grabbed Gajeel. Lightning spidered through clouds that rolled overhead. The chameleon transformed and ran through the garden. Gajeel tamped down the feeling in his stomach that made him want to vomit.
Laxus was out there... with Davian...
But it was a thunderstorm, he told himself, if anyone was in trouble, it couldn't be Laxus.
Gajeel heard the pounding of the rain approach before it swallowed them both.