The World Is Ugly

by StevMarie

It was just a mission. That was how it started. It wasn't pain, it wasn't agony, it wasn't Laxus in a rage of lightning and Gajeel helpless in his wake. Feelings weren't supposed to be hurt, blood wasn't supposed to be spilled; now the world is spinning out of control and they're plummeting to the ground unable to stop it. What can be said? The world Is ugly.

117. Chapter 117

Author's Notes:

But fear not for as long as you live you are mine
And even in death you will find
You've lived with regret for so long but now
Is your chance to change what has been wrong

I can feel air inside my lungs again
All because of you
I can rebuild my life and start again
All because of you

TW:

Blood
Gore
Animal death
Too much grinning/smiling/smirking
Deals with the devil

---

Chapter 117:

Laxus was no stranger to being a spectacle, (How many times had he been on the cover of Sorcerer Magazine?) so the fact that people stopped and stared at them as they entered the Temple compound wasn't all that bothersome to him. It was more enlightening than anything. It had started with a handful of children playing out by the boundary wall laying their eyes on them and running off. Then, the outskirters would draw their attentions upward, do a double take, and possibly make a sign. Next, Laxus noticed people whispering to each other, and then follow distantly after, meandering as if they had just been going their way as well. Soon, though, it became undeniable. A crowd began to gather. People selling wares and their customers bargaining, stopped and stared and abandoned their tasks to follow. Through all of it, Davian walked pointedly and with his head held high. He didn't stop to speak to anyone, and he certainly didn't move out of anyone's way. They moved for him.

The crowd swelled. Humble and awestruck silence turned into fervently whispered prayers, people asking him for things, for favor, for him to grant some wish or fulfill some desire. Davian didn't waver, didn't glance from his path. His shoulders were tense and his fists clenched. It occurred to Laxus that this was how he walked before his cadets; this practiced, staunch superiority that bled from his every pore was one he recognized. He had thought it arrogance or merely his station that made him that way, but now he realized that Davian had done this his whole life. Laxus could sympathize to an extent. Being a guildmaster's son – and one that was a wizard saint, at that – garnered for him its own variety of novelty. The worship, though, was its own type of intimidating.

"I can see why you left," Laxus said, keeping his hands in his pockets as they walked into the shadow of the Temple of the Moon.

"Is it so obvious?" Davian replied sarcastically.

"Most people would experience this and get a big head." Laxus smirked, "You're so hard on yourself."

"I cannot possibly live up to their expectations."

"So it's typically like this, then?" he muttered.

"Oh, knowing my brother, he probably prophesied my return as some divine something," he snarled, "And speaking of which... Laxus, please-"

"Don't ask him any questions, don't agree to anything. I got it, Davian," Laxus huffed, controlling himself enough to not roll his eyes, "Your brother doesn't scare me. I've faced wizards worse than him, also actively trying to kill me. I know how to be careful."

"Of course, you do..." he sighed, "It's just... he's probably planned all of this, already..."

"So, if I'm walking into a trap, there's little we can do about it." Laxus cut him off, "I thought you two had a deal?"

"We do." he stated flatly, and Laxus noticed a tenseness to his tone that wasn't there previously, "And perhaps he's never gone back on his word before... but that doesn't mean he won't manipulate his way into something else. He's like that, you know, he can-"

"He can see the future." Laxus finished. He'd heard this spiel nearly nonstop since Orotrushit had left them earlier. It was taxing, "I'll strike him with lightning... in his good eye, this time."

"If he allows it." Davian replied, dismally.

Rut made a noise, then, and it drew Davian's attention, "You worry like a hen-mother."

They arrived at the smaller pyramid, and at this point the crowd around them had swollen quite large. Davian was still attempting to look stern and unperturbed, but Laxus recognized the tightness around his eyes. At long last, he stopped and gave Laxus a sheepish look.

"I'm sorry, this is where we part. You're to go to the Temple of the Sun. It's where healing takes place," he motioned to the much larger pyramid, the one Laxus still had a hard time looking directly at. "Rut can show you-"

Rut made a huffing noise and crossed his arms, annoyed.

"I don't need a babysitter," Laxus said, raising a brow at the taller chameleon. He was busy staring down at Erandi, his expression unreadable... or was it a bit soft? "Doubt I'll be getting lost."

"Of course..." Davian said, and hesitated. Laxus narrowed his eyes at him for the guilty look that flashed across his features. He noticed Laxus scrutinizing him and shrugged vaguely.

"Whatever it is you're hiding, Davian, it's worrying me more than your brother." Laxus said at length and watched as Davian stiffened, his eyes widening, "Did you think I wouldn't notice when the entire trip you've been getting cagey over random shit?"

Davian waived his hand dismissively, "I'm just-"

"I don't like it when people hide things from me, Davian." he snarled, "Don't you dare fucking lie to my face on top of it."

At that, Davian seemed to relent, his shoulders going slack as he looked up at him, "It's ritual, Laxus, ritual that I don't think you'll enjoy. I'm not... I'm not going to explain it to you. Not right now. Later, though, if you wish."

"Fine." Laxus said, easing the weight of his glare, "I'll be off then."

It stung Laxus awfully to know things were being hidden from him. But it stung a bit less that at least Davian wasn't going to lie to him anymore. Begrudgingly, he let it go... for now.

He pushed his way through the mass of people and began his trek to the much larger Temple of the Sun. The closer he got to it, the less mirage-like it became. Laxus wasn't typically one to appreciate architecture, but he had to admit that the place was striking. The great steps up to the temple were made seamlessly, giving the look that if you swung your legs over the edge of one of the steps you could glide straight down to the next. The limestone glimmered a brilliant white in the sunlight... the sunlight that was now waning as the moon passed closer to its edge. The top held a building, like the star on top of a tree, ornate and beautiful and covered in painted reliefs. The feathers, the color teal, the motifs of death and gods and warriors trimmed in gold, and even the altar had begun to lose its edge of terror on him. Curtains were drawn, exposing the inside to him though the distance made it difficult for him to see what waited there. The stairs unfurled from the lip of temple like a river of blood running down the pyramid and at the end of each massive staircase there was the open mouth of a fanged creature covered in feathers an scales. Oros, Laxus surmised. It had to be, though it felt like an after-thought. Again, he was struck by the strangeness of it, of how the serpent-god was carved onto everything, everywhere, and yet still seemed so apart; not intertwining into this world but circling outside of it, unable to enter.

It was while he approached, eyes surveying the place, the buildings that marked the path, and the emptiness of the stone streets now that so many converged on the famed Favorite Son, that he felt something brush against his edges that he very much didn't expect. It wasn't an attack, it wasn't a curious, reaching search, but an ambient energy that Laxus knew very, very well. Magic. He stopped in his tracks, confused. There weren't supposed to be wizards here. And this wasn't the small one-off of some low-level mage passing him in the street, here by mistake or by trade. This was the ambient teem of a group of wizards congregated somewhere, amassed in one space together and waiting. It came from the pyramid, Laxus realized, from an open doorway that led inside, covered by a curtain that sat between the parting of the two staircases. Laxus furrowed his brow and walked inside, dousing himself in the familiarity of latent magic.

It was dark in the pyramid, its construction not allowing things like windows. The stone hallway was cramped and small. Laxus's eyes were drawn to the reliefs that covered the walls, carved with precision and detail that he hadn't seen in the places they'd passed through in the jungle. Priests sat on large thrones, and Laxus could count the teeth on the skulls adorning their headdresses, could see every fine hair carved into the feathers. Thorns pierced ears, noses, tongues, and blood spilled over gold. Ritual circles were carved into the stone, and men and women were on their knees. Lit by the light of torches, it made the images writhe as he passed them. Eyes stared unblinkingly ahead, coldly gazing over congregations, tearing open chests, pulling out hearts, filling cups of wine, giving blessings, and saying prayers.

Laxus heard a voice bouncing out from the depths of the place and followed it, finding the entrance to someplace large. He stepped from the hall and stood in the vestibule to what Laxus could only think of as a cathedral. Men were milling about, murmuring quietly to each other in front of ornate, wooden doors. On either side of the place, two massive braziers were lit, casting light and heat into the place, the smoke funneling up into chimneys that went... somewhere. Eyes turned to him, glancing at each other in question because clearly, he wasn't supposed to be there. Laxus knew what confidence could do in situations like this, and so he nodded his head in their direction before stepping off into another doorway covered by a curtain and slipping inside as if he knew exactly where he was going. He waited for just a moment to be sure no one was following him, and then took in his new surroundings.

Inside, he found a staircase leading up into darkness only punctuated by flickering light at the top. He followed it, working his way quietly as the voice that echoed grew louder, picking up a cadence he wasn't familiar with; a shout before the rest of the sentence finished off more conversationally. He tilted his head as he tried to pick out what was being said. He wrinkled his nose, thinking whoever was talking, they were over the top, gearing themselves up until they were shouting at the top of their lungs and then dropping back down again. It made something in him twitch, a nostalgia that spoke of a classroom when the lecturer became passionate about what they were exhorting on.

"Now hold on for a minute, I'm just getting started here. Don't let me lose you now. You say to me, Marinus, I don't understand. It doesn't make sense. Why me? Why would the god choose me? What do I have to give? If I am the lowest of the low that walks the earth, if I am just me, if I am just what I am then why would a god choose me? I'm not perfect. I'm not divine. What can I possibly give?"

Laxus found himself stepping up onto a balcony of sorts. The light he had seen was from the large chandeliers that hung from the ceiling, ringed with fire that Laxus could only guess would have been lit from where he was standing now. Below him, he was surprised to see a congregation, the pulse of magic in the room as clear to him as the humidity outside. A congregation of wizards... but hadn't Davian said mages didn't practice? He had said they had human practitioners, and Davian had initiated Laxus, so mages could practice... He was thoroughly confused, standing there and watching them as they all nodded fervently towards the figure at the head of the room, the figure whose voice was near weepy with emotion.

"Isn't Father good?" he asked, and the congregation muttered their agreement, "Can he not take even the lowest of us and lift us to the most high? My friends, we are in a scary age. We are in an age of war, of strong mages that just take, and take, and take. They destroy our towns, our cities, they hurt our loved ones, they threaten the very heart and soul of this country. My friends, did not our High Priest tell of the day fire would arrive at our very own doorstep? Did he not prophesy of the day those wizards will be at our door?!"

Laxus curled his lip in disgust. He could feel the power of the room shifting with weight and emotion. These weren't weak mages, but they weren't his caliber, either. He'd taken out entire dark guilds similar in strength to what he felt in this room, now. Laxus was sure he knew who the leader, Marinus, spoke of when he mentioned a High Priest. Who else could it be except Orortrushit? But why would he have a need for a large group of young, impressionable mages who think they'll be needed for a battle? This wasn't an army, by any means. If Father was planning to march out into Fiore and conquer everything in his path, he wouldn't do it with this.

And that was when his eyes were drawn to a handful of men lining the walls. Every ten feet or so, one of them stood, eyes watching the man speaking. From these mages, Laxus could sense a distinct difference. He didn't want to reach out with his magic, lest he gain the attention of everyone in the place, but there was a stillness about them that told of greater power under the surface, like a frozen river hiding the frigid depths beneath. To the untrained eye, the glossy surface all looked the same. Laxus crossed his arms as he brought his attention back to the man standing above the rest. What was going on here?

"Will we stand and let those that seek to destroy us by? Will we grow feeble and weak and cower while they take what's left of us? Or will we stand and fight? What is it but passion that makes us strong? Were we not called to greater purpose? Through Father the congregation is strong and we will not be burned out from existence! Let me hear you lift your voice if you believe it!" The congregation responded with shouts and yells as Marinus went on, spinning more words from his mouth like silver string. "Do we go gently into that good night? Will we continue to be stepped on and scattered like dust to the wind? No, I say! We will rise up! Together, we have been made complete and perfect! Together, we will take back what rightfully belongs to us! Together we will triumph over those that stand in our way! Strong wizards may try, but with Father at our backs, who could dare stand in our way?!"

The fever pitch of the room grew. People were crying and shouting, standing in their seats and raising their hands. The display made Laxus's chest ache. Even he felt moved by the words. To be a part of something, to be given a cause and a purpose, Laxus knew how it could hone even a dull wizard into a sharpened weapon. Passion to a mage was powerful, and that's what this was, unfettered and concentrated passion turning the entire room into a churning, swelling rush like a freshet. With a sickening sort of twist to his stomach, Laxus realized that this could be a problem. It took a heavy amount of restraint in him to not be pulled in by the tide around him, and he felt it fade slowly as Marinus closed and prayed.

Laxus let out a harrowed breath.

A surreal, amicable buzz filled the place as the mages began saying their goodbyes and filtering out. Laxus realized he'd been there for far too long and walked farther into the place, still unsure of where he was going. He noticed tapestries covered some of the reliefs, handwoven by the looks of them, depicting the temples and the sun and the moon, depicting a snake with sacred feathers and mouth open to eat warriors that walked towards its gaping maw. There were images of war, of human sacrifice, and Laxus found he was quite accustomed to the imagery by now. Stylized skulls and bleeding hearts no longer bothered him.

He turned a corner and stood for a moment, trying to get his wits about him, when he heard the voice from before speaking once more, much more subdued now. It was a rich, warm voice, and Laxus found himself gravitating towards the sound of it even though he felt it was probably a bad idea. Standing in a room, speaking to two of the men that had been lining the walls earlier, was the man who'd led the congregation. Near to him now and in brighter light, Laxus could get a good look at him. He noticed first, his striking, blue eyes the color of a calm lagoon and twice as deep. His hair was a cool white, well-trimmed and with a pronounced widow's peak, and he had a well-groomed goatee that pointed at the bottom. His ears were pointed and adorned with teardrop earrings. He wore a modern cotton shirt and a well-worn vest interwoven with silver strands that gave it a shimmery look. There was a faded lotus tattoo on the side of his neck, dipping down beneath his shirt to where Laxus could no longer see. When he spoke, his teeth were so white they nearly glinted in the darkness.

His eyes drifted languidly towards Laxus where he stood in the doorway. He immediately dropped the conversation, a smile coming to his face that lit up his features. It wasn't quite unsettling, but Laxus knew this was a well-trained response. Laxus recognized immediately that this man was used to working with people, and he was frighteningly good at it.

"Well, hello! You're a new face!" he said, taking Laxus in so fully he turned his body to face him, "I don't believe I've met your acquaintance. I'm Marinus Undine, but please, call me Mari. Marinus is long on the tongue."

He strode up to him and extended his hand. Laxus hesitated a moment before taking it and noticed that he was glancing past him, slightly puzzled.

"Laxus..." he said, purposely dropping his last name. If this man didn't recognize him, then he'd prefer to keep it that way.

"Oh, you're alone? Did no one bring you back here?" he chuckled, "You must have gotten turned around, friend. The congregation doesn't usually come back here. I can walk you out-"

"I'm actually trying to find someone," Laxus said calmly, but with intent, squaring his shoulders as if to bodily show he wouldn't be brushed to the side, "Your High Priest, Orotrushit, is expecting me."

Marinus froze, his blue eyes flashing even though Laxus felt no magic coming from him... in fact, he didn't feel any magic at all from him. The two men behind him were most certainly wizards, but not this man. He did sense something else, though, something he recognized from running into it before. He couldn't quite place it. After taking a second to recover, Marinus once again flashed him a benevolent smile and turned to his companions.

"Would you boys be so kind as to dismiss the congregation for me? Clearly, this needs my full attention. We'll finish our discussion later, I assure you." he said, motioning towards the door. The two exchanged a look, clearly unhappy with the turn of events, but made no other comment other than a quick "Yes, Mari," before leaving. Marinus combed his fingers through his perfectly barbered hair, still congenial, his eyes crinkling at the corners, giving his smile an even more gracious appearance. "To the upper chambers, then? He doesn't typically come to the lower levels. He's not great with people. Hates to be bothered. I can't blame him, it must be exhausting to be wanted all the time."

"I'm sure," Laxus said, staying as neutral as possible. Marinus strode past him, motioning with a broad hand for him to follow.

"It's not very often the High Priest has human visitors. You are human, aren't you? Sometimes I have trouble telling. Some of the chameleons are frightfully good at blending in. You know, I met a little girl the other day, a little angel, really, selling flowers out by the vendors. She was trying to get money to get her mother a birthday present. A child! Hardly seven years old. Would you have thought of such a thing at that age? I digress. I didn't even realize until I handed her the money. Little thing hadn't quite mastered it yet, and in her joy the illusion broke. Such a sweet girl…"

His movements were fluid, gentle, meant to placate and assuage, to mold calmly yet insistently, like a river to a jagged stone. Beneath the façade, though, Laxus sensed something insidious. This was all a front, even if a good one, and there was something about him that didn't just scream illusion, but evil.

"…isn't it a shame they have to do it at all? Even here, in the shadow of the temples, their home, practically, they can't be themselves. Wizards do so seek to destroy those things which they don't understand, so it really is our obligation, no, our responsibility to right these wrongs, wouldn't you say?"

Again, Laxus sensed that latent something-or-other inside of him, the power that wasn't magic but was nonetheless known to him. It nagged at him, the fact he hadn't pinpointed it yet. It was… something he knew very well. Something he recognized in someone else close to him. Perhaps it was just that he was out of his element that he couldn't tell…

"I think the High Priest is the only one of them that doesn't feel the need to hide, and only because he's strong enough that if a wizard came after him he'd be able to defend himself. Why, did you hear about what happened over by the Sinlin Hills?"

At the mention of Sinlin Hills, Laxus's heart seized. He gritted his teeth, trapping his anger inside though his magic swelled slightly. It was something another mage would have felt had they been paying attention to him, but this man didn't.

"Sinlin Hills?" Laxus said, coolly.

"Oh yes. A tragic thing. A mage murdered one of the halfbloods. It was quite a big deal, you know. The Magic Council got involved. Oh, but you know how corrupt an organization that is. The man walked away, Scott free. Can you believe it? Cold blooded murder? It's prejudice, I say."

"And I'm sure it had nothing to do with what she was doing there…" Laxus said, barely keeping in his rage.

"She? I didn't say she, friend." he said, his smile never faltering. He snapped his fingers then, and looked at him, "Laxus Dreyar. That's who you are. Ah, I never forget a name, but when I don't have a face for it… but you're practically a celebrity, aren't you? On the cover of every other Fairy Tail issue of Sorcerer Magazine. You and that white-haired girl… Mirajane! Ah! Yes, yes, yes. You know, I've always wanted to speak to her… respectfully of course. They put her in all those pinups, you know. It's distasteful. You would think a woman like her would have more respect for herself than to let her half-naked body be flashed all around Fiore-"

It was the mention of Mirajane's name that made the final piece click into place.

"Ah… so that's it. You're a demon."

At that, Marinus stopped walking. He chuckled a little bit and straightened his already perfectly straight vest. He shook his finger at him slightly, "Well… we can't get past you, can we? Although, I'll admit, that was a little upsetting."

"Yes, I'm a demon but please don't hold that against me. I'm on a holier path than my kin, yes? I'm content to just live for Father and his congregation. They've quite stolen my heart."

Laxus was aware they were walking up an incline, but he couldn't tell by looking around him. Here, they had to walk single file, with Marinus before him. He glanced over his shoulder, still cheerful, his façade never wavering. Laxus could see more of his lotus tattoo, how the color had faded. In the dim light between torches, his eyes glowed such a bright blue that they could almost light the way.

"Stolen a lot of hearts, from what I've heard." Laxus said, and the double meaning wasn't lost on the demon before him.

"Oh... well, I'll admit it's old-fashioned, but I've always been a fan of old-time religion, myself. The devotion is inspiring. Don't let yourself be blinded by the bloodshed, my friend. We've also done so much good. Why, just recently, we were able to open up a school. And the trade in the area has boomed. Truly, it is only because of Father that we were able to accomplish so much!" he was saying as they walked along, passing more doorways covered by curtains. Laxus chanced quick glances but was unable to see what was inside. Occasionally, he thought he saw glimpses of gold. "Oh, and the hospital. Oh, you must see the hospital while you're here. All by the grace of Father and his will. Orotrushit has been slaving away, trying to make this a better place-"

"And you?" Laxus asked, keenly aware that he failed to mention himself in any of his ramblings, "How do you fit into it all, exactly?"

"Oh... haha, well, I'm just delivering Father's words to the congregation. As I said, our High Priest, bless him, is not so good with people. It exhausts him, I think. And who could blame him? He does so much for us all. It's a joint effort. He gives me the word, and I present it to the congregation. It helps, after all, to have someone who understands them and their many backgrounds better." he extolled, his voice picking up the cadence he'd had during his sermon, "After all, I too was once lost in darkness. If not for Father finding me and bringing me into his embrace, why, who knows where I would be. Following Zeref or some other nonsense? Perhaps you and I would have had at it over some ridiculous power struggle, hm? And then I never would have been able to talk to you. What an opportunity!"

"What an opportunity," Laxus parroted flatly, "A shame I don't believe a damn thing you've said."

"Ah... you're a difficult one, I see," he smiled, the extent of it lighting every inch of his face. The crow's feet at the corners of his eyes made him look downright pleasant. Laxus couldn't tell if he was trying to charm him or if it was all genuine. "I have a challenge for you, then. If what we are doing here were not good, then why would our congregation grow as it has? Is that not a sign that Father has given us his blessing to continue serving his people, the children of Oros?"

"Weak mages are easy to manipulate," Laxus said, "Especially ones without a guild."

"Of course, you are part of a guild. I should have expected that rebuttal," he laughed, a sound like water pattering on soft ground, "Well, tell me, how many hospitals has Fairy Tail opened? Aside from your own medical ward? And schools?"

"Most of my guildmates were orphans. The guild was their home." Laxus said, "When they had nowhere to go, we took them in. We didn't just give them a roof, we raised each other. And we work in our hometown. Magnolia already has a hospital and a school, but we've spent many days rebuilding the town."

"Rebuilding?" he said, and now Laxus could see a malicious curl to his grin, a certain darkness to his features that was gone as soon as it had settled, "Would you need to rebuild if you hadn't destroyed it in the first place? Why, that's no more than a child picking up their room after they've had a tantrum. What we have done is far greater than that. Rebuilding relations with the people this far south, opening up opportunities that weren't previously there, building on what was once lost... is it not a great cause to help those who need it the most?"

"It is... but you don't seem charitable to me." Laxus stated as Marinus held back a curtain for him to stride past. "And neither does Father."

"That's where you're wrong, my friend. Father only has his people, and ours, in his heart. To lift them up, to guide them to a better tomorrow. Should they live in the rubble of what once was, forever?" he said, conviction making his voice strong enough to bounce back at them from around the chamber. "He leads us to a greater version of ourselves. Look at me, a demon, destined to bring about destruction in my wake, and instead, I've been made anew."

Laxus recognized the relief that covered the wall of this chamber immediately. It was the relief that he had seen on their way here, the depiction of the Aurincarae being killed to start the cycle anew. Here, it was painted and preserved. He could see every detail in the tattoos, embossed with gold, and the eyes that were also gilded, the eyes that were gilded in the new Aurincarae as well. Feathers shimmered like they would if they were alive, opalescent like gemstones. He watched as Marinus's eyes widened as they danced over the relief, how they glowed even more intensely. His smile was close-lipped and duplicitous. If Laxus had any doubts of this man's nature before, they were all gone now. He was a demon staring in awe of a depiction of violence, and Laxus was sure that in the perfect comb of his hair, there were horns.

"I have helped build a modest empire, and I intend to continue. This comradery, this communion, can't be found anywhere else. We lift each other up here, we build to a better tomorrow, even in the face of adversity, in the name of a god that is good. And if it is his will, then when our time comes we will be rewarded for our hard work on this plane. A paradise, promised to those who brought about his will, a generous thing we couldn't possibly deserve even if we'd worked our whole lives towards it."

"And let me guess," Laxus said, and his treacherous blue eyes swung back over to him, "There's hell to pay if you don't."

"Well of course. If there is an eternal paradise for the good, there must be an equal punishment for the wicked. Was it not us who ate of the fruits of forbidden knowledge, seeking out power that should only be in the hands of the gods? Bringing new magics into the world, and being consumed by it in our own folly? Was it not man who broke the first covenants set down by those that created us? An underworld, oblivion, even a hell, is only logical, just." he chuckled, "Or do you not think the evils in this world should see justice for their crimes, Fairy Tail wizard? Have I mistaken your guild for some other?"

"Maybe, if the world worked in absolutes. And I don't give out divine justice." Laxus said, calmly, cautiously, "I've been around enough to know that absolute good can be just as terrible as absolute evil. I've met many wizards head on who thought they can rule this world with those kinds of stakes. They never seem to live up to their own standards of perfection, either."

"Perhaps they haven't found the right cause." Marinus's eyes flashed.

"Perhaps humanity makes us flawed." Laxus crossed his arms, "And we should be allowed grace."

"But as you've plainly stated," Marinus said, his tone twisting into something vile, "I'm not human."

"But you are still a charlatan."

Laxus tensed and whipped his head around to Orotrushit who was now standing in the doorway, his eye and tattoos glowing. He looked haggard, his breathing uneven and his teeth bared. Laxus heard a gentle pattering and his eyes travelled to where blood was falling onto the ground.

"You're not allowed here, Marinus." he hissed, clenching his fists, "And yet, here you are, filling my chambers with your insipid lies."

"Well," Marinus chuckled, his smile jovial and genteel once again, "Aren't you in a mood."

"I am..." he replied evenly, an edge to his tone that could slice a throat open, "I am in a mood to rip out your heart and eat it in front of you if you take one more step out of line."

"You wound me," he said, putting a hand to his chest in his sincerity, "I merely wanted to escort your esteemed guest."

"Are verbal directions outside your scope of expertise?" he took an advancing step towards him, his clawed hands flexing in threat and promise, "Marinus."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Marinus put out a hand to stay him, "Who will lead the congregation for you in my absence, hm? A bit of a rash decision, don't you think?"

"Aha..." Orotrushit drew out a laugh that turned into a sardonic sigh. He advanced another step, "Do you think you're not expendable? Everyone is expendable, Marinus. You. Him." he shot a look at Laxus, "Even me. So, if you want to play your silly revenge game, you'll remember who it was that dug you out of your father's ashes, and who can put you back. Anyone can give a pretty speech, and I can find another desperate water demon. A waste of my valuable time, yes, but not outside of my capabilities."

There was a beat of palpable silence. Laxus glanced back over to Marinus and saw that his smile was noticeably missing. Damn him if that wasn't just a little bit gratifying to see. Orotrushit stepped to the side and bowed slightly at the waist, presenting his hand towards the door as he continued to stare Marinus down.

"On your way, then."

"As you wish," Marinus shrugged, pinning his winning smile back in place. He gave Laxus a sympathetic look, "I did tell you he was dreadful with people, didn't I? Good luck."

He took his leave without a second glance back and left the two of them alone in the chamber.

"Pretty hypocritical of you," Laxus said, crossing his arms. "Getting angry about his insipid lies when you have so many of your own."

"Have I lied to you, dragon slayer?" Orotrushit mused, sliding his gaze over to him lazily. His tone suggested he already knew the answer to the question he had asked. His head tilted to the side as he stared at Laxus, the insistent patter of blood dripping to the floor the only other noise between them as they watched each other, "I think not... in fact, I think I've been more honest to you than my brother has been. More honest, even, than the man you hold in such high regard. More honest than you have been to him in return."

"That's not true." Laxus scoffed, his lip curling at the implication. He bullied his anger into check, refusing to rise to the challenge.

"Isn't it?" Orotrushit replied silkily, "Then tell me, Laxus, what lies have I fed you?"

Laxus paused and considered the rare few times they had run in to each other. The man was theatrical, a borderline manic villain. Surely not a thing out of his vicious mouth could be trusted. But... had he ever lied? Now that Laxus sat and thought on it, he wasn't sure that he had.

"You come up empty, dragon slayer," he said, stepping towards Laxus. The movement held a weight to it that exceeded what the man carried, and a shadow seemed to spread in his wake, "A vast many things I may be. A bastard, a glutton, a snake, a letch, even, but a liar I am not. In fact, if anything, you can believe that I will tell you only the truth, and I won't dance around the topic. I invite you quite eagerly to put me to the test."

"Your brother has already warned me about asking you questions." Laxus replied, still steady, refusing the waver. He paused a moment, but the twisted grin Laxus had come to recognize him by never materialized. Orotrushit looked up at him. The light behind his patch pulsed.

"Perhaps for the best. You wouldn't ask the right question anyway." He snarled.

"Yeah? See that in my future?" Laxus hummed, and realized too late his phrasing was wrong. "Master manipulator."

"Careful, dragon slayer…" Orotrushit huffed a half-hearted chuckle, a smugness settling into his tone, "And master manipulator implies I do far more than I truly do."

Laxus paused and thought before he spoke, "So you say."

At his obvious reticence, Orotrushit grinned, "I do. Men are simple creatures. Once you figure out what drives them, their values and morals, what inspires them, it doesn't take a mastermind to guide them in the right direction. A well-placed question, a person in danger, a call unanswered… in a horribly predictable way, you all find your own paths to the correct places. But I certainly don't expect you to take my word for it. After all, who knows what strings I could be pulling that you're unaware of, hm?"

He stepped past him, then, and headed for the far end of the chamber.

"Come, dragon slayer. I have much work to do and little time with which to do it."

Despite how every instinct in him screamed not to, he followed, though he kept his distance. If Orotrushit noticed, he didn't speak on it. Instead, he walked to the far corner of the place, and as with an optical illusion, Laxus realized there was a doorway there that he hadn't seen before. He pulled back the heavy curtain and stepped through, vanishing into darkness beyond. Laxus was close behind, swallowed by that same preternatural and enveloping darkness, only punctured by the slim light that emitted from Orotrushit's tattoos.

He strode onward with a confidence that spoke of habit. Aside from the echo of their footsteps, a deep and heavy silence fell. The echo of their steps, and the patter of blood on the floor. It trickled down Orotrushit's arm steadily, glowing just as the rest of him did, and each drop that hit the floor did also glow for a moment before the life of it faded and went out. The chameleon acted as if nothing were amiss, however, despite the fact that Laxus could tell it was deep. His hand occasionally twitched reflexively. The smell of blood made the cage of his teeth taste like copper.

To clear the silence, Laxus decided to draw attention to it. He had to think for a moment before he finally landed on, "You're bleeding."

"A persistent wound, I'll give it that." he replied flatly, "But expected. It went to the bone."

"And here I thought you were a healer."

"I could heal it, but it would take significant effort... It would not be wise to be ravenous when left alone with you, dragon slayer." He spoke as if they were discussing the weather, and he was merely tired of the small talk. "I only have so much restraint, and I have given my word. I am loath to break it."

Laxus opened his mouth to make a scathing remark, only to realize it, too, was a question. He stayed it before it could leave his throat and gritted his teeth. Keen to his silence, the chameleon before him glanced back over his shoulder. His face was shrouded in darkness from the tattoo over his eye causing a stark shadow.

"Is it more difficult than you anticipated?" Orotrushit simpered over at him, his voice rising in a mockery of something sweet and kind, "Rest assured, I will cause you no harm. I am duty bound. I gave my brother my vow."

Laxus clicked his teeth, "I don't trust you."

"A silly notion. If you could trust anyone, it would be me." he said, continuing on into the depths of the pyramid. "I, at the very least, will tell you the truth."

Laxus became aware of the smell of animals, and the sounds of stirring. A doorway loomed suddenly, Laxus only just able to see it as he came upon it. Orotrushit disappeared inside and Laxus chose to stand at the edge and watch. He caught the glittering of cages and the flashes of eyes in the gloam. Orotrushit ran his eye over each one, studying them intensely. There was quite a large cage and from it Laxus heard the telltale snarls of a proportionately large creature, the flashing eyes of a predator, and the deep rumbling growl of a jaguar when Orotrushit got close.

"If everything you've done wasn't enough to convince me already, the fact that you employ a demon definitely does." Laxus snarled.

"Careful... you tread dreadfully close to prejudice." Orotrushit's voice lilted upwards. The sound was downright eerie when it bounced back at them as an echo entangled in the chittering of frightened birds. A cage rattled as the chameleon reached for it. The bird inside had brilliant green feathers.

"Mm..." he sighed, staring at it for a long moment before he finally straightened, "It'll do."

"Prejudice." Laxus scoffed.

"Who I employ should be of no concern to you, but if it will assuage you, I suppose I can let you in on the big secret. I needed someone to protect my home. Good fortune allowed that he was also skilled in growing the flock."

Protect his home? Laxus nearly rolled his eyes. Clearly, Orotrushit had the strength to harm Marinus given how the demon had faltered quite quickly under his threats of violence. What, then, would he need from the water demon that he couldn't provide of his own accord? Not brute strength, certainly not violence. And if it was his lack of hesitance, it was clear Orotrushit was the one to act and Marinus the one who followed, even if he was a rogue. It didn't make sense, and Laxus wasn't willing to believe it but... as Laxus stewed over what Orotrushit had said, as he slipped passed him back into the hall and continued their march into the bowels of carved stone, Laxus remembered that during his sermon, Marinus had made mention of a prophesy of fire and mages. The need for a water demon made much more sense if that prophesy was real and not a metaphor. If it was a fire mage that Orotrushit was scared of, well, Davian had been a trained fighter and had been rendered useless when forced to fight Zahir alone. Assuming the brothers shared similar shortcomings...

"You prophesied fire." he muttered, and Orotrushit stopped walking. The figures carved on the close walls around them writhed in the dim golden light. It was hard for Laxus's eyes to focus on anything aside from the High Priest and his feathers that seemed to have a life of their own.

"You are keener than I gave you credit for... keen and strong. I'll need to consider that more closely." he took a step back and twisted his waist so he could rest his glowing sight on Laxus once again, studying him in a new light that made Laxus clench his fists, ready to fight, "I did. I looked into the future and saw fire, fire that burned the forest to cinders and filled these halls, vaporizing man, woman, and child. Indiscriminate, powerful. Now, I know nothing about mages and even less about demons, but I know how to make sacrifice for forbidden knowledge. I found the name of the incarnation of this fire, and I was instructed to take the name to an archive. The knowledge I searched for would appear for me in fire; a history and a mention of a battle, a father and a son who lost their fight to a demon called Igmallad. I found the son, who to my surprise was very, very good at shepherding men. His father used to have his own cult, you see, until they were all burned. The fire will still come, I cannot stop that. But the damage will be mitigated."

Laxus was appalled. He'd found Marinus... to keep his people safe? He stood for a moment, wrestling with something to say, fighting the questions on his tongue, and a slick smile spread once again across Orotrushit's face.

"Surprised?" he asked, his teeth cunning where they flashed at him, "Then it will surprise you even more to know that it came at a great cost to me."

"You're the one who set fire to the Bloodgood Atheneum." Laxus hissed.

"An accident. Dihasis required a price. I'm assuming it was the grimoire and that the fire and confusion were meant to draw out the sphynx to take it from me, but I wouldn't know. She doesn't speak to me." he stated blithely, like it didn't matter. His eye sparked knowingly, "Assuming, that is, that you can believe a word I say."

Laxus eyed him harshly, "Why-… you don't... have a reason to lie."

"Stay cautious, dragon slayer, lest you pay the price." Orotrushit said shrewdly and turned once again to continue their journey. "I will not let you off lightly."

"Davian told me you could see the future." Laxus said, following just outside of the length of his tail, "You must have everything figured out."

His response was caged, "I do try."

"And you say you'll tell me the truth." Laxus breathed, daring to believe him even as he was aware of how treacherous a thing it was to do.

"Tread lightly..." he could hear the wicked smile in his voice. "Knowing the future can be so tedious."

They were going upstairs, now. The reliefs changed into crouched forms of prayer and exultation. Laxus could no longer see the drops of blood and looked at Orotrushit's arm. The wound had begun to close. It was slow, unlike the times he'd seen Davian slit his hand. It was probably the macabre relief that he passed, of a man pulling out a heart from the chest of a man on an altar, that made the question appear in his mind. It made him think of how awful it would be to glimpse into the future at any given time, the temptation to look at things you were never meant to see. Laxus knew what he would do if he could see the future. He was like that, always dragging things to light that should be left alone. It wasn't his fault, it was his nature. He couldn't help it.

"Do you know how you die?"

It fell from him thoughtlessly, without his permission, and he immediately snapped his lips shut at its utterance. Orotrushit froze except for his tail which lashed to the side, a nervous or angry gesture, Laxus couldn't tell without seeing his face. He turned back to him again, his eye narrowed.

"I will give you this truth, not out of sympathy to your curiosity or to attempt to inspire fear, but simply because I can do it without a cost. I have seen it so many times now..." he said. There was a calm malevolence to his every word and sinuous movement, like the breath before the taking of a life, a match struck that would set a blaze to claim sleeping victims in their home, "Not only do I know the day, but I know the hour, I know the implement which will be used, and I know the man who will do it. I will die, dragon slayer, and you will bear witness to my end. I will be killed by a man who will hate me far more than any man who has walked this plane. He will kill me to spare a life, your life, dragon slayer, and when his knife pierces my heart, he will seal his fate."

Laxus was tense with what he kept firmly locked behind his teeth. He stared up at Orotrushit who had a gravely serious look on his face, and at this point he found it hard to doubt his words. He wanted to know more, but a smile was tugging at the corner of Orotrushit's mouth and pulling a licentious grin back onto his face. His gaze was soft and sly. He leaned down towards him so that they were nearly eye to eye.

"Shall I impart more wisdom on you now, Laxus?" he hissed his name like it was profane, like it could burn his mouth if left there for too long. His tongue flashed as he continued, "You believe that once you have borne witness to a wrong, you can make it right. If you could simply know, you can fix every harm, alleviate every hurt. But if something is hidden from you, and hidden well, it will not be brought out for you quietly. The next question you ask me will come with a cost. To taste forbidden knowledge does not come free, and it does not come cheap. It will be physical and emotional anguish. Your trespass will set off a chain of events that will spark an intrinsic change within you, down even to the very marrow of your bones. A change that has already been started, but which will be hastened if you continue down this path... and it is something that terrifies you."

Laxus furrowed his brow but kept himself sternly silent. His mind hummed with the idea of something changing him. What in the hell could he possibly be talking about? As if sensing his thoughts, Orotrushit smiled even wider; it was a sinister, sharp thing that made him look monstrous and hungry.

"Very soon, I will be able to read your mind." he said, looking every bit a snake as Laxus had ever seen him, "Heed my warning, dragon slayer. When you are open and at your most vulnerable, keep your mind clear. Think only, if you can, of bright sunlight that turns the world vacant and white. I will not hesitate to taste that which is within you. I crave your pain desperately... I will show you that answer that so eludes you and I will enjoy it thoroughly when you regret in knowing."

Laxus's heart leapt up into his throat, hammering as if he'd just been in a blind sprint. His veins turned cold with dread. He believed him. He believed every word that he said and still he had questions. He clenched his fists and tested his magic, felt and saw the power that slithered up and down his arms in response to his call. One glowing eye tracked the movement of it, how it danced up and down him. The sharpness to his smile ebbed until he wasn't smiling at all, and again looked quite bored.

Orotrushit turned back and threaded his hand through the darkness to reveal brilliant sunlight. A curtain that Laxus hadn't realized was there was drawn back. The light of the partially covered sun was still enough to make him wince as he walked out from the near pitch-blackness they had been standing in. The bird in the cage frenzied until it realized it was still quite trapped.

Laxus got his bearings and realized they were at the top of the pyramid. It was high up, and wind blew through the chambers that opened up to the world around them. He could see straight out over the forest, down to the top of the smaller temple where he'd left Davian, and felt like he could jump from this height and land in the pillowy softness of the emergent trees. There, at the entrance, where the mouth of the temple dropped to steep steps, a large stone altar stood. The center of it was well-used and stained a deep rust color. Rivulets of red clung to the surface of the porous stone, lined the bottom of it. Laxus felt cold fingers card down his spine at the realization that so much life had been snuffed out on that stone. There was a sentience to it, like a wraith was sitting there and watching him, waiting for him to turn his back so it could drag him screaming to that very altar and rip out his heart.

His mind's eye fabricated a brutal reality without his consent. He saw Gajeel, looking as Laxus had witnessed him in every hospital bed he'd seen him in, fatigued, gasping for breath, dying. Black hair spilled over the side of the altar like in his nightmares and blood covered his body, the ground, the world.

Laxus shivered and snapped painfully back to the present. He caught himself before his magic could display his abject fear. He stepped back from the entrance and deeper into the temple, coming to stand near Orotrushit as he moved wordlessly. He put the cage on the ground next to what Laxus would only describe as a throne. A large, plush cushion sat across it. He sighed, and pulled back a curtain above the two seats, revealing a skylight. He squinted upwards, shut his eye.

"An hour... no, a little more..." he muttered, and looked back to Laxus. He strode towards him, clearly looking him up and down, making a wide circle. Laxus crossed his arms, feigning indifference as he realized he was being appraised, "You aren't cleansed... but I suppose, neither am I. Come. There is more to do."

He stepped deeper into the temple. Laxus quieted a growing sense of unease and followed once more.

---

Davian was making the ochre stain that would soon be spread against his teeth and Erandi's, grinding down the fine powder and mixing it with oil until it was smooth and glided gently against the sides of the pestle. He knew the steps in his head, and he knew them well. The boy was cleansed, and now he was being prepared. He'd already sent Rut to fetch the oranges, the cocoa, and had prepared a plate for him in the other room. They were creature comforts, meant to make him happy as he awaited his quickly approaching fate. The beast now waited in the corridor, knowing well his tasks as Davian had set them, and it wasn't lost on him the way he had stared at the boy when he'd brought him his indulgences. From where he stood, he could hear Erandi now, sipping from his cup.

It was when Davian was plucking the herbs to mix in a new bitter drink that he heard a startling noise. Footsteps, and not the hushed steps of the young acolytes that peered with curiosity and awe whenever they thought he wasn't looking, but heavy, booted feet running like mad. He froze and turned his gaze to a stone archway he wasn't entirely familiar with – not a surprise, there were dozens of tunnels that spidered across the compound, most leading to dead ends, cave-ins, and dark, unused chambers. The place was ancient even before the time when they had been hunted down. Many things had been lost to time – and was startled by movement. A form filled the doorway, a form with blood red eyes that at first alighted on him with alarm and then, strangely, relief.

"Ah fuck..." Gajeel gasped, leaning against the frame. His hand ran through tangled, black hair, "I thought you were yer brother."

"I-ah-wh-…" speech fled him. He couldn't even string his thoughts together. Of all the people Davian would have thought to see, Gajeel Redfox was the last on his list.

"The weird getup," he explained, his words a swift breath. It was at that moment Davian realized he had a knife in his hand. Specifically, he realized it because he was sheathing it back out of sight.

"It's sacred-… you... what are you doing here?" Davian hissed, dropping his voice to a low whisper as he remembered Erandi. This, this, was a problem. It wasn't bad enough that Davian felt guilty for his lie, that he felt nervous for Laxus being alone with his brother, that he felt unprepared for what lay ahead and scared even, but Gajeel being here complicated things all the more.

"It doesn't matter," he grunted, in a rush, the accent he carefully kept camouflaged laid bare like when he'd been a prisoner. It was clear he was rattled, though he hid it well. Davian could smell the blind terror coming from him in waves, the anger just beneath it, and the despair, "Ye can't do this."

"I-I... do..." he halted himself, afraid to incriminate and afraid of the reaction of the man in front of him, the man who was now approaching quickly, with purpose to his strides. He stumbled back, fear making his heart seize as calloused hands reached for him and fisted into his robes, "I'm-I'm trying to fix-"

"Ya can't kill the kid, Major." he said, his draconic gaze trapping him in place even more effectively than his iron grasp.

"How did you...?" Davian froze. His breath left him, "I... I must."

"His whole life is ahead a' him," he said, and it shocked Davian to his core. His red eyes were fervent, locked on his and unyielding, "And you... you don't wanna do this. You're gonna kill the kid and what? Major..."

"Laxus is dying." Davian said, feeling all the more strange that he was beseeching Gajeel, of all people, for reason, "He will die if I don't do this. I've... I've already made my decision."

"Does he know? That he's dying for Laxus?" Gajeel charged.

"He knows he gave his life to feed the gods. He wanted to. When he came of age he gave himself to that purpose. Now he goes to fulfill it." Davian whispered, "A life for a life, Gajeel. That's all it is."

"But it ain't, is it?" he snapped, "Your life, and his. That's two."

"No, my life is being traded for Laxus's. The Rite that binds me requires a heavy price. If I could do it with an animal, I would, but I broke the covenant once and Father wants to be sure I can't break it again." Davian snarled, "Were you not the one who told me to make myself valuable?"

Gajeel's eyes widened at his own advice being thrown back at him, his jaw squared and a low growl burned in his chest.

"I learn from my mistakes." he said lowly, his voice like acid dripping onto the floor and filling the atmosphere with the acrid tone of regret, "You think Hajime was happy with what I did? Even if it spared him his life?"

Things snapped into focus for Davian. Suddenly he understood what all this was about. Gajeel had told him once, that he saw fragile and helpless things and saw something familiar. He saw himself in Davian and Erandi. This man, Davian reminded himself, who up until very recently had downright hated him, but gave up bits of himself every time Davian asked even if it was painful to save him from the pain he'd lived through, was here again attempting to stand in his way despite knowing the consequences. How many times was Davian going to inadvertently cause him harm? He felt he could pull his hair out from the madness of it all, from how turned upside down his life had become. There was a time he would have let this man die without a second thought.

"I know what I am doing." Davian returned, his voice pragmatic even though his soul shivered, "I've made my choice already, you cannot sway me."

"Laxus wouldn't want this." Gajeel snarled, "I don't..." he lost steam, then, stopping without finishing. The conflict finally broke him. He set his jaw, "There has to be another way, ain't there?"

"It's not your decision." Davian said, leveling him with a hard glare, "The boy knows what will happen. He has chosen to be given to the gods. I will do the bloodletting. That is all. These are my… our choices, our religion. I do not expect agreement, but I do require your respect."

Gajeel's brow furrowed, his frown deepened into a menacing grimace. He glared into Davian to the point that he feared his eyes alone could shred him to pieces. His hands clenched tighter where they held his fabric. For a heartbeat, Davian worried he'd have to fight, worried how he would have to fight, but Gajeel clicked his teeth and turned his face away, shutting his eyes. He released him and stepped away, turning his back to him as again he ran his hand through his hair, a hand on his hip. He cursed and stomped off towards the direction he had come only to turn and pace before the darkened doorway.

"I can't do anything..." he growled, "Goddam it."

"What are you doing here, Gajeel?" Davian implored.

"What do ya think?" he laughed darkly, looking over at him from the corner of his eyes, "It's like ye all think I'm blind. I was home, Davian, when I called 'im at the train station. Ye think I couldn't tell he could barely stand on his feet?"

"You followed us?" Davian was floored, "From Magnolia?"

"I knew somethin' wasn't right, I just didn't think it was so bad..." he huffed, stopping his march, "I'm killin' that brother of yers, Major."

"Are you asking my permission?" Davian replied. Slowly, at first, and then with more confidence, he resumed his task of plucking leaves. "You'd be doing me a favor."

"You were right. He killed Krew." he was leaning against the wall like it was the only thing keeping him standing, his eyes rapidly growing hollow, "And it wasn't fast."

"I'm sorry."

It was all he could think to say.

"It won't be like that for him, will it?" Davian looked over to him, appalled by how small his voice sounded. "Painful? …and slow?"

Davian took a deep, settling breath. It had been so long since he'd filled these shoes. He meticulously softened his edges, aware that more than likely Gajeel's keen eyes could see right through him, so it probably didn't matter.

"I'm making a poison to be mixed with honeyed wine. It dulls the senses but not the mind. It'll feel warm, like sunning on a warm stone. It will feel pleasant... he won't be able to feel pain." Davian said calmly, "My knife is sharp, and I am very strong, Gajeel. I will do my work quickly and with precision, and I will appreciate the life that he gives for the divine."

This was the Rite of Service, what it had been meant to be. Giving life to the gods was just one, small part. He was also supposed to uplift those who were weary and full of doubt, comfort the ones that were afraid. To serve had been his calling, and he'd been given the tools to do so. The touch he had used his whole life to guide attention away, to infiltrate the minds of his peers, to tear down and confuse, had always been meant for better purpose. He was made to understand what others felt and know how to perfectly address their fears, to calm them, to build a strong bond. But that hadn't been what Father had taught him. He'd learned this on his own. It would take time, but he could right some wrongs.

"Under Oros, nothing truly dies. It is merely transformed. To live, we must daily break the body and shed the blood of creation. When done lovingly, reverently, it is sacrament," Davian said, presenting his palm. He withdrew his knife and made an incision. Gajeel watched him without flinching, so different from Laxus who always paled at the sight of his jagged knife. A drop swelled and drifted languidly up, catching fire and turning gold, disappearing into dust, "If we were created by gods, in their image, then there is divinity inside all of us, inside our actions that we commit in their name. There is beauty and perfection that can't be taken from us, either."

"You're the warden of a prison, Major," Gajeel replied dryly, "Tell me how there's divinity in a place like that."

Davian had to think on that for a moment. He plucked the last of his leaves and began grinding them down. Preparation had always been a meditative experience for him. Simple components had simple meanings, but when you layered them on top of each other they turned into something more. Complexity, combination, a new iteration. What truly is a recipe but a spell in disguise? A creation of something new out of the destruction between his fingertips when he rubbed the oils from the leaves gathered. He mixed it into the wine.

"You saved many lives the day you fought Zahir in the prison. The men you saved didn't forget the sacrifice you made, and price you were willing to pay in your attempt, no matter how futile it seemed to you at the time..." Davian murmured, "They asked about you when you were in the infirmary. They asked for funerals for their fallen comrades, to mourn them, which, in its essence, is a recognition that they would be missed because those left behind felt an emptiness for their absence. Is there not beauty in that? A place for the worst people in Fiore, and yet they still cared about each other, wanted to honor each other. Humanity is a wonderful, dreadful thing. It is divine."

"You don't really believe that." Gajeel growled.

"I'm trying to." Davian replied honestly, looking over to him. He was standing in the doorway, arms crossed and fists clenched, staring off into the darkness. Davian's stomach pitched, "What happened?"

He didn't respond at first and Davian almost left him in his silence until he heard his breath catch, "Your brother is a bastard... but he picked the wrong one. I can handle pain."

"He... hurt you?"

"He flayed Krew alive, Davian, and was happy to let me experience the process."

Davian couldn't help his hiss. "By Oros's Teeth."

"I don't have the stomach to return the favor, but I wish I did." Red eyes cut over to him, and it made Davian's heart skip in muted terror, "I'm supposed to be a better man than that, now."

"I think... someone gave me some sound advice once, about keeping demons. To not tame them, because they might save my life one day." Davian gave him a look.

Gajeel scoffed. "Sounds like a downright prick."

"Absolutely... but one who speaks from experience, so can probably be trusted in the matter." Davian replied, "Laxus is at the Temple of the Sun. Orotrushit has to break the bond before the eclipse."

"Guess I know where I'm headed next." darkness descended into his eyes, "Gotta question b'fore I go, though."

"Yes?"

"Any idea how he makes it so we can't use magic?" he must have read the shock on his face, because Gajeel let out a bitter laugh, "Figures."

"He can do that... to both of you?" Davian asked, his worry pitching up to near panic.

"I can only assume." he said, but didn't seem perturbed. In fact, there was savagery there, carefully concealed but nonetheless making red eyes swim. Davian was silently thankful that at least for now that brutality wasn't focused at him, "It doesn't matter. I don't need magic to shove a knife inta his chest."

"No..." Davian breathed, stifling a shiver as the iron dragon slayer turned to take his leave, "...no, I suppose not."

---

Another room, this one with a large golden tub. Laxus raised a brow at it, but Orotrushit didn't even glance in its direction. There was a table covered in implements, fans of brilliant feathers, trinkets of gold, unused candles. There was a bowl overflowing with fruits from the jungle, and a plate with different pieces of meat prepared in different fashions; smoked, dried, cooked, and raw. On another table, there were jars of what Laxus assumed were herbs, but he also saw flowers and spices. There were long sticks of incense, and a large golden box. Everything was arranged immaculately, and Orotrushit hardly looked at any of it as he strode to the far side, pulling a large, ornate bowl from where it was stored.

He carried it carefully to a bare counter in the middle of the room, what Laxus assumed was used for preparation. He set it down and was off again, on to a curtained off closet. When it was drawn back, Laxus saw shelves lined with jars and the scent of vinegar was immediately released into the room. Preserved items? He grabbed a pitcher of water and carried it to the bowl, pouring its contents slowly, gently, never spilling a drop until it was empty. Laxus watched silently, reminded of when Davian had rummaged through his own cabinets, their ritual on such a smaller scale. He had a feeling these items were far more valuable than the tiny saucer and candle they had made use of.

Orotrushit returned to the bowl with a stick of incense in his hand. Without a word, he lit the end and held it aloft towards him. In a nearly automatic response, Laxus took it. The smoke bloomed thickly around them, and Laxus's nose stung with the scent of copal. He immediately tilted his head back from it, not keen on inhaling too much of the smoke. Orotrushit waved the smoke down towards the water, eyes half-lidded as he spoke words Laxus didn't understand. With his other hand, he held a handful of white sand... or maybe it was salt. He sprinkled it in as he spoke, as he fanned the incense. When the salt was gone, he stopped his chant. There was a beat of silence, and then Orotrushit plucked the incense from his hand and smothered the burning end between his fingertips. He set the incense to the side and made a motion with his hand towards Laxus and the bowl.

"Wash your hands." he commanded. Laxus wrinkled his nose in response and the chameleon simpered up at him, "Scared of a bit of smoke and salt water, oh, lightning dragon?"

"I don't know what you said." Laxus growled at him.

That made the chameleon pause. A venomous remark seemed poised on his tongue, but he stayed it, which thoroughly surprised Laxus. He tilted his head to the side and narrowed his reptilian eye to study him.

"Are you attempting... to practice?" he sneered.

"I'm attempting to not be ignorant." Laxus snapped back at him, crossing his arms, "And not be taken advantage of."

"Far be it for me to deny you, then, fledgling priest," he mocked, "I blessed the water. The words spoken: I exorcise thee, oh creature of salt, of all negativity both seen and unseen, and bless thee in the name of the divine. I exorcise thee, oh creature of water, of all negativity both seen and unseen, and bless thee in the name of the divine. I cleanse and consecrate this water in the name of the divine, may this water enhance and purify all that it touches. Into the shadow with teeth bared."

"If you lie to me now..." Laxus started, his gaze not wavering.

"I tell you no lies, dragon slayer." Orotrushit said, waving his hand dismissively, "Shall I assuage you once more?"

He dipped navy-scaled hands into the water. His tattoos glowed a bit more fiercely as he washed his hands. He then cupped some of the water in his palms and lifted it out. Consecrated water splattered onto the floor as he rubbed his forearms and even pulled his long hair and brilliant feathers to the side in order to rub it into the back of his neck. Swift drops of water ran down and darkened his robes with their damp. When he was done, he shook the remaining droplets from his hands and onto the ground.

"Satisfied?" he asked, his tone deadpan.

Laxus's response was to follow suit, washing his own hands in the warm water. In the back of his mind, he remembered the words that Davian had spoken to him during the introduction ritual. It was strange, when Davian had stepped him through these things, they had held a weight to them, an age, an air of sovereignty. Perhaps it was because Orotrushit practiced daily, or perhaps it was simply because Laxus was here, but his movements seemed robotic, practiced, and thoughtless. Davian had stressed that this was worship, that it was sacred and tradition. The gods listen, they observe, they respond in kind.

He took longer to wash his hands. He tried putting himself in as good a headspace as he could, breathing deeply when he cupped the water in his palms and ran it up his arms. He could feel the warmth and power of his life energy, the instinct that throbbed deep within him and stirred to his command, though he still didn't have it mastered.

Simplicity in existing. Laxus thought as he rubbed the water onto the back of his neck. We are alive. We are focused. We are ready to harness our waiting potential.

When he finished, he brought his gaze up and found Orotrushit was staring at him with dreadful intensity. His eye was narrowed to a suspicious slit as he stared into Laxus's chest. His eyes snapped back up to him, and he didn't utter a word. He merely took the bowl, still half filled with water, and walked it over to a curtained window, lifted the drape aside, and poured the water out. He left the bowl there and walked around the room again, gathering more sticks of copal incense and ushering Laxus back to the main of the temple.

The sky was continuing to darken, the world turning dull as if it were an overcast day instead of cloudless. A rush of warm air whisked through the entrance and Orotrushit paused, tilting his head back and breathing in deeply. In an extremely reptilian gesture, his tongue tasted the air.

"They've cleared the streets..." he hummed, "Good."

Why? Laxus thought loudly. There had been so many people, why did they need to clear the streets? For the eclipse? Because of the Other World that Davian had spoken of? Were people going to get hurt?

"Come sit, dragon slayer. Time grows short," Orotrushit's voice scattered his thoughts.

Think of the sun. Laxus chided himself and came to the large cushion and lowered himself down on it. Not really knowing what else to do, he crossed his legs in the same way Davian had shown him and observed Orotrushit as he went around and began loosing curtains. The ones in front of the entrance and the larger windows were heavy and dragged on the floor. They glided together, dousing Laxus in an artificial night only broken by the dimming sunlight that struggled down from the skylight. The square of it was centered fully on Laxus. The sun was at its highest point in the sky.

"You could at least explain some of this," Laxus said, watching as Orotrushit stalked deeper into the shadows. He reappeared, carrying the box Laxus had seen in the other room. He opened it and pulled out a knife, neatly encased in a decorated sheath.

"I thought you a budding acolyte. Wizards do crave rationalities, don't they? You must learn when to question and when to simply accept."

At long last, Orotrushit joined him, spilling down onto the throne the way a snake coils down a tree. He lit the incense and set them in a holder, waving his hand to allow the smoke to bloom fuller and rise. It sifted up through the skylight, wraithlike and white.

"Has my brother ever swayed your mind with his touch, dragon slayer?" he asked, crossing his legs and straightening his spine. He began untying the skull mask which he had kept at his hip and placed it gingerly to the side.

"Yes..." Laxus replied, guarded.

"It is similar in design, but different at its core. I was given a gift which allows me to see. Not just the future, but into the heart people. All I need is a good look at you and I can right previous harms, and inflict them... among other things." As he spoke, the light of his tattoos grew more intense, looking now livid and fluid, giving it the appearance that if Laxus were to reach out and touch him, they might slip off of him like liquid resin, viscous and burning to the touch. "You will need to quiet your nerves, dragon slayer, and relax."

"Relax..." Laxus snarled. "As if I could."

Blinding light began to shine around his patch. Laxus could feel a malicious prying at him, an incessant slip of hands tugging at carefully concealed parts of himself. His entire body tensed in response, reflexively holding himself closer together.

"You must." Orotrushit said, leaning his body to one side as he began untying the patch fastened tightly over his eye. "I could force you, but you'll have to ask for it. I was instructed not to touch you more than necessary."

Laxus's skin crawled at the idea. He felt a dull pain in his jaw from how hard he clenched his teeth. He forced himself to lengthen his spine, to rest his palms on his knees. Slowly, and then all at once, he released his muscles and tried not to flinch when Orotrushit dropped his eyepatch to the floor. He held his palm firmly against his eye. Golden, blinding light spilled from between his fingers. It reminded Laxus of when he'd been on the forest floor, breaking to pieces underneath the golden glare of Father as It spindled his life away. It had been dark in the other socket.

When Orotrushit removed his hand, there was a second where nothing happened. They both sat facing each other, unblinking as Orotrushit looked down on him from his commanding perch, and then the world fell away. The light in Orotrushit's eye throbbed like a heartbeat, and with each pulse it grew brighter. The feeling of being laid bare, of being seen, turned swiftly into a riving pain beneath his flesh. Laxus wanted to look away, to blink, but he found he couldn't, pinned in place like a moth staring straight into the sun; a sun that bore radiance into him that wasn't gentle or guiding or benevolent, but ruthless. It burned.

"The day Aeleora was killed..." his voice needled Laxus's skin, eliciting sharp pains throughout his body, "Where was I...?"

Laxus's entire body responded to the next throb of light with an effusive spasm. His hands stayed on his knees, unable to move. Laxus found he couldn't make a sound either. The world became twisted, muddled, murky. He was standing in a doorway looking into a room. It felt like a dream, like walking through thick smoke. His body moved in tandem with another, apart from him, as if he were its shadow. It stood in the doorway and it watched the scene that unfolded before him, craving blood.

Gajeel turned his arm into a lance and plunged it into the stomach of a man. The man screamed and Gajeel looked down on him with purpose, dragging the blade across his flesh and spinning out what was inside. Laxus felt nauseous. He wanted to look away but he was locked to the one who stood and watched and craved. When the man fell, his head lolled towards where they stood and Laxus was sure he could see them. Gajeel reached down and grabbed another, Caetus. The act of shoving the needle into him was brutal.

Laxus felt his stomach riot, but he couldn't get sick.

Bloodlust. Laxus had never felt it before. Even when he'd lost it on Zahir, he hadn't been craving to kill him. He had just wanted it to end. He was angry and he'd snapped. He could choke on what he was feeling now. The man who inspired it stood in the doorway and watched.

"You made him feel this way." Laxus charged.

"He already felt this way," Orotrushit grinned as he watched the carnage. As Caetus seized and overdosed, Gajeel covered his nose so he'd suffocate. His back was to him, but Laxus could see his profile as he stared down into the dying man's eyes. He wasn't smiling. He looked despairingly merciless, indifferent as he exacted his revenge on a man that had hurt him, "I simply gave it direction."

It wasn't enough. This wasn't the blood that he was after. It was Bianca's.

The body that Laxus was bound to, turned. Orotrushit strode down the hall, listening to the footsteps that moved and no longer knew where to go. Orotrushit could see the path, though. He could see the beating heart of the one that he craved. As he turned the corner he called for the dragon slayer to follow, and he did. Walking through the Otherworld made it so he was always out of reach, never quite seen. He heard Bianca as he neared, the raging iron dragon hot on his heels.

With every frantic beat of his heart, Laxus felt what Gajeel was feeling. Somehow, they'd been aligned just as he and Orotrushit were aligned... and then Laxus realized it was because Orotrushit had been aligned to Gajeel all along, from the moment Gajeel had broken out of his cell, the game had been set. As soon as he'd drawn the first drop of blood, the sacrifice was started.

"I am beginning to think you have learned too much."

It felt like a knife was being stabbed into his spine when Orotrushit spoke. Still, Laxus couldn't scream. He was locked in the memory and in his own body. He couldn't move.

Then, Laxus was greeted by a scene he knew well, but never from this angle. Bianca was astride him, twisting the blade deeper into his shoulder. He watched himself scream, and then suddenly, he was there staring into Bianca's eyes. He could feel the blade. He screamed in reality, nearly breaking whatever spell Orotrushit was weaving. The knife flashed at him as it was drawn back, tearing flesh as the serrated edge did solemnly the job it was made to do. The world writhed because despite how he hadn't been in control earlier, Laxus seemed to have regained some of it now.

"You must relax, dragon slayer, or I cannot perform my task."

"You expect me to relax when I feel like I've just been stabbed." Laxus gasped, his ribcage shuddering as he tried to breathe through the pain, "If you want me to relax, make the pain stop."

"A difficult requirement... but a requirement all the same." he responded coldly.

Orotrushit was looking down at him, both of his eyes consumed by stoic gold. He leaned over and pulled the bird from its cage. The thing fluttered in his hand and stilled when he flipped it onto its back. He was staring down from his throne and over the shoulder of Bianca, time frozen as blood gushed from a fresh wound.

"That is a blade meant for sacrifice, impertinent woman," he spoke, his tongue sliding out as he did, "One does not commit a senseless murder with a ritual knife."

Laxus saw a winking of daylight, a gilded stirring, as Orotrushit unsheathed his own ritual blade. The bird he held in his hands didn't stir as he pressed the edge into its breast. Something broke from beneath it. Shimmering, dull light sifted through the growing laceration in its chest. The smell of blood made Laxus's head swim, and a hunger pang made him want to vomit. Orotrushit reached into the bird, twisted his wrist around, and scooped out its heart in one fluid motion that was almost too tender to be so violent. Without hesitation, without blinking, he ate it.

"Fucks sakes..." Laxus breathed.

"You should give up the idea of practicing, dragon slayer. You do not have the stomach for it."

Blood spilled onto his hands, itself luminescent, coating his fingers, his palms, and his wrists with something slick and ethereal. He reached past Bianca's shoulder and grabbed her wrist, his hand forming perfectly around hers where she held the blade. The feathers of his headdress shimmered, his hair blowing back as if a wind was carding through it. His eyes pulsed to the tempo of a beating heart.

"As above, so below,

Spirit and matter,

As within, so without,

The secret hidden by blood,

You have been called.

Into the shadow with teeth bared."

Bianca was gone and it was just the two of them, Orotrushit still with the blade in his hand. Laxus felt like he was bleeding out, his warmth leeching from him with every second that his wound remained gaping. He was starting to feel dizzy, his mind beginning to swim. A vignette was forming around his vision, making it so truly, Orotrushit was the only thing he could see, and he was currently pressing his free palm to his lips, coating them in blood.

A ritual circle spread beneath them, centering around Laxus, blooming not unlike a flower. He pushed the knife back into the wound. Laxus gasped but didn't feel the unbearable pain of serrated teeth. He felt an almost comforting warmth that threaded deep into his skin, his muscle, remaking something that had previously been shorn apart. Orotrushit's head listed to the side and Laxus could see light coming from between his teeth. He breathed into his bloodied palm, and the light that he had taken from the chest of the bird spilled into it, turning into a small, pulsing form that took shape, quivering in his hand where he cradled it.

"A bond was forged in blood, blood I have no claim to," he whispered down into it, and the light shivered as if in response. "Do your work skillfully. Reveal with the power of the sun that which was hidden in shadow."

The light flew into Laxus's chest, to his wound. It disappeared beneath his skin and the knife began to glow. It pulsed with Orotrushit's eyes, the beat to a song that hadn't begun yet to be sung.

"I wasn't supposed to touch you, but it appears I must." Orotrushit said, reaching forward. Laxus recoiled, but with Orotrushit still gripping the knife he didn't have far to move. The chameleon's eyes were trained to his chest, "Stay still. Our teeth are deep in you for being on the brink of death..."

His free hand splayed wide over Laxus's heart, black taloned fingers indenting into his shirt where they flexed in quiet threat. He felt life and energy moving, pulsing, becoming stronger. The heat of the blade deepened to the point of pain, turning from something warm and comforting into something angrier, searing. He sucked in a breath and dug his nails into his knees, trying not to reach for it. A menacing growl from the chameleon made the world hum.

"As the sun sets,

Release this bond.

As the light fades,

Release this bond,

As I shatter the knife

Release this bond.

Into the shadow with teeth bared."

The knife shattered, and with it too, did the strange illusion of the past. Laxus heard the pieces fall and startled when he felt the fractured blade hit his lap. Orotrushit withdrew from him, and Laxus stared wide-eyed at the knife that had stabbed him so long ago. It was... real. Even though the memory wasn't, the pain wasn't. He picked up one of the pieces and turned it over in his hands, careful so as not to draw blood. Reflexively, he massaged his shoulder and froze when a familiar texture was no longer there. He pulled on his shirt and looked for the scar that he knew should be there only to find it missing. It was as if he had never been stabbed.

"It's gone." Laxus gasped, astonished. Even the healers hadn't been able to get rid of the scar. The damage had been too extensive, and he'd been left to bleed for too long.

"A previous wrong has been undone." Orotrushit said, crossing his arms as his eyes wandered over him, clearly taking stock of what he'd done, "It never should have happened in the first place."

"Your sister was a bitch." Laxus said.

"My sister was foolish, and craved something she was never destined to have." he said, the words carrying a weight that Laxus didn't understand, "Cruel to the end. I did tell her it would kill her. If she had left instead of staying to torture you, the covenant would never have been bound."

Laxus's eyes snapped wide as the realization of what Orotrushit said struck him. He drew his attention up to him, taking him in as he continued to sit, arms still crossed, gilt eyes afire as he looked down at Laxus through his lashes. Orotrushit, nearly omniscient, who could see the future and knew the past, the embodiment of Father's will, sat there and silently observed him. Laxus's stomach twisted as he finally realized what was sitting in front of him, what had been sitting in front of him this whole time, goading him onward, tempting him with the answers that he had been craving ever since Gajeel had never returned to the guild over a year ago. He was still aligned with the chameleon's mind, knew that he could see into Laxus's heart, into his deeper thoughts. A smile broke across his face.

"Tread carefully, dragon slayer..." he warned, "I am weary and my teeth are sharp."

"You were there." Laxus said, the accusation dripping venom, "You made the covenant."

"I did." he rested his elbows on his knees and interlocked his fingers, leering over them in a way that evoked sovereignty and conceit. "You should heed my warnings."

Laxus's chest felt tight. Davian had refused to tell him, or perhaps he was just still unsure of the details. Gajeel either couldn't or wouldn't speak of the day, from fear, or the pain of the memory, or just to hide the truth, Laxus didn't know. But if he knew the covenant, maybe he could find a way to break it. Perhaps he wouldn't like the answer, and Orotrushit had paraded that in front of him only moments before. But Laxus could handle pain, physical or emotional or otherwise. He didn't enjoy it but he could withstand it. If the pain meant saving Gajeel's life, then he couldn't just turn down the chance that wasn't just staring him in the face but grinning at him with sharp teeth, daring him to ask one simple question...

Laxus thought he heard something, possibly footsteps. They were running, coming closer-

"Are you willing to pay the price, Laxus?" Orotrushit said, his voice dipping low with his cunning.

"You said... you would tell me the truth..."

Something about his form shifted and danced, like the flickering light of a candle when exposed to the tremulous breath of the one who held it.

"Oh, dragon slayer, you have my undying word," he breathed, and the room seemed to grow darker around them. Laxus felt the vow deep into his bones. It wasn't that Orotrushit wouldn't lie, it was that he couldn't, "And I haven't lied to you yet."

"And the price... is pain." Laxus breathed, "Not blood. Not life. It's just... pain."

Orotrushit's ribcage swelled in his excitement. Again, Laxus felt a hunger pang that pierced like an arrow. His claws were growing longer, curling wickedly as his grin widened to show almost every sharp tooth in his mouth. He could feel his brimming excitement, how it threatened to spill over.

"I can cause you no bodily harm."

Laxus felt something black balling up into his chest in anticipation of what he was about to do. He swallowed hard, trying to sweep away the guilt effervescing up into his throat, the feeling that he was about to betray Gajeel in the worst possible way. He couldn't help if he didn't know. It was true for everything that had happened to them. At every turn, when Gajeel was wronged, when he was hurt, when he was in harm's way, he hid it: the first time Laxus had gone into heat, the pain he had caused him; the reason for the changes that made him crave Gajeel so uncontrollably; the pain he had endured at Bianca's hands; when his self-loathing had become so strong he'd wanted to end his own life; Kahli waiting in the darkness, stalking them for months; the recording lacrima; searching out Father... all of these things Gajeel had hidden away and now Laxus could finally know just one small piece of it all, perhaps the most integral one. He couldn't... he wouldn't pass up this opportunity.

"Go on..." Orotrushit hissed, "Ask."

He took a steadying breath, a dreadful thing that turned into a gasp.

"The covenant..." Laxus whispered, as if saying it too loud would do even more harm, "What happened that day?"

Orotrushit's eyes fluttered closed. His spine curled as he shivered. When he opened his eyes again, Laxus felt like hundreds of claws were suddenly digging into him, dragging him down into something. He stifled a scream.

He felt the gnashing of teeth into his skin and though the chameleon hadn't moved, somehow, he was being gripped by the throat and dragged to the altar. He slammed back onto it, his shoulders aligning with divots worn well into limestone from centuries of use. He could smell blood, could taste it in his mouth. Orotrushit was over him, one hand holding him by the neck and the other threading into his hair. Insidious eyes burned into him like branding irons.

"Shall I tell you, dragon slayer?" Orotrushit's smile was wicked, "Or shall I show you?"

---

Author's Notes:

Don't ever trust the devil, bitch!

Can you tell from the sermon that I was raised in a Southern Baptist church? Downright hellfire and brimstone preaching in that place. Twelve years ago, this fan fiction would have SCANDALIZED me lmao You know what that is? Growth.

Side note: You can probably tell from the end of this chapter what the main topic of discussion will be in the next chapter. This is a preemptive warning that we will finally see what exactly happened to Gajeel when he was captured by Bianca. There will be trigger warnings at the top of the page as always, but I guess this is just a little bit of forewarning.