Chapter 134:

The door opened and his eyes snapped up to Dorian striding in, a disgusted look on his face as he made immediately for the panel. Laxus was close behind him, his eyebrows flying up as he looked down to Gajeel and the mess he had strewn around him on the antique coffee table.

"Oros above, how can you hear yourself think?" Davian said as Dorian turned his music down and switched it to something much more aligned to the experience you'd expect from a gourmet restaurant.

"That was a good band. It's a shame they're on an indefinite hiatus," Serrill said, close behind.

"Before you all settle in," Dorian gained their attention smoothly, walking over to hand Davian a pamphlet, "I would like to get your food started."

Davian's eyes widened, flushing with yellow. His gaze flashed to Gajeel and back to Dorian, realization working its way across his features. A bit of a quiet huff left him, his shoulders relaxed. He slowly dropped his glamour, shivering as feathers slunk through his dark hair and framed his face, fanned out around him. Serrill and Laxus gaped openly in their surprise, but Dorian continued on without even a glance in his direction, describing their featured meals and what was in them, and then promptly getting their orders. Serrill chose their Seafood Risotto, Laxus their Beef Filet with Balsamic Reduction and Gorgonzola, and Gajeel – never one to halfway a meal – their Montaine-Style Chicken with Black Truffle. Davian timidly handed the pamphlet back, requesting Salmon Sashimi and their Beef Carpaccio, slipping in a quiet request they not garnish the dishes. Dorian nodded and warmly said, "Of course," before striding over to the bar and pulling out a bourbon whiskey from the back to set down beside Gajeel.

"If I may," he grinned, filling his glass for him and setting it back down on one of the linens so it wouldn't leave a ring on his nice antique furniture, "This is much smoother. A personal favorite, and not as hard on the pocketbook either. Comes from a little place my father has been desperate to acquire. They want to keep the business in the family, though. Shame."

Knowing exactly where the money was coming from, Dorian was sure to ask Gajeel one last time if there was anything he needed before exiting through a small door in the back of the room, heading straight for the kitchen. There was a beat of silence after the door closed before Laxus dropped his gaze to him, his eyes wild and curious.

"So... you and the owner have history?" he asked, a crooked grin on his face, "He said he's known you for years."

"I'm surprised he said something," Gajeel said, watching as Laxus's brow furrowed and his lips twisted in his confusion, "I used ta come here a lot as muscle for Jose. I wouldn't say Angel is a friend, but he, uh, he's real friendly with me for helpin' him out of a sticky situation once."

"Who's Angel?" Laxus looked even more confused, "That was Dorian Montaine, wasn't it?"

Now it was Gajeel's turn to tilt his head to the side in surprise and apprehension, a look that clearly baffled Laxus all the more, "How do you know... Dorian?"

"Uh... I danced with his cousin, and maybe hooked up with her," Laxus said a bit sheepishly, "The entire family would always show up to her recitals. It is huge."

"Oh... my gods..." Serrill said, eyes sparking in his barely contained laughter, "You don't know who the Montaines are?"

"They're old money, aren't they?" Laxus said slowly, "Like the Heartfilias?"

"No. Not like the Heartfilias," Gajeel said, grinning like a devil, "The Heartfilias owned businesses. The Montaines are in real estate."

"Real estate," Davian chuckled darkly, "They're one of the most prominent yakuza families in Fiore, Laxus."

Laxus's eyes widened as that sank in, "Oh. Shit."

"And you rubbed elbows with his cousin?" Gajeel laughed.

"I was like... seventeen," Laxus said defensively, "How the hell was I supposed to know?"

That knocked the wind from Gajeel's sails.

Seventeen. While Laxus was ballroom dancing with Dorian Montaine's little cousin, Gajeel was nineteen, menacingly darkening his establishment's corner while Jose drank wine with Major Wesick, some pretty woman on his lap making eyes at him so Jose could shmooze some of his boys out of prison time. Somehow the world was so large and infinitesimally small at the exact same time.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Laxus asked.

"N-Nothing…" Gajeel said, studying his whiskey before taking another drink, "Most people who know him 'round here call him Angel."

"What a nickname for a yakuza," Laxus said.

"He ain't violent like the other grandkids," Gajeel said with a smirk, "Sticks ta business."

"Did you ever contract with the Montaines?" Davian asked, shrewd eyes boring into him.

"I ain't one for politics," Gajeel wrinkled his nose, "They woulda chewed me up and spat me back out again."

"Pity. I would have loved some inside information."

"Goddamn, that's so cool," Serrill said from where he stood by the back wall, his eyes running over some of their memorabilia. He was standing in front of an article with a striking black headline reading Blood on the Cobblestones: The Untold Tales of the Capital's Yakuza Syndicate, "The yakuza's prime was insane. I wish I was alive to see it."

"You know they're cop killers, don't cha, Serrill?" Gajeel asked, shooting him a wry look. The blonde shrugged.

"I bet I could've taken them down," he said haughtily. He waved his hand as if he was holding a cigar, picking up an accent you'd find closer to the capital, "I'd go deep undercover, fall in love with some yakuza princess, and almost go insane trying to figure out where my true allegiances lie before taking down the head of the family."

"How dashing," Davian said, amused, "Although, I do believe you'd be found out. You are simply a dreadful liar, darling."

"So I wouldn't lie, but I'd let the yakuza think I was their guy on the inside but really it's the other way around."

"That shit's harder than it looks," Gajeel muttered, "And way more boring than it's made out ta be."

"You've been a double agent?" Serrill asked, eyes lighting up.

"Yeah… for his grandfather, actually," Gajeel motioned vaguely at Laxus, "Spyin' on his dad."

"I forget your father runs a dark guild," Davian murmured out the side of his mouth, "How fortunate you didn't take after him."

How Serrill's eyes could possibly get any wider was beyond Gajeel, but there he was, staring at Laxus like he'd just grown a second head.

"Your father runs a dark guild?"

Laxus shook his head at the two with a roll of his eyes. He motioned down to the coffee table in front of Gajeel, sweeping his hand broadly to address his mess, "So, what's all this?"

While Gajeel had been waiting for them to join him, he had pulled over some of the elegant stationary and began writing down everything he knew about what had happened to him so far. Everything he could remember: Oragatohl'I, Papá Omara and the Auré's catacombs, Aowas, finding Erandi, every encounter he'd had with Orotrushit, the things he'd said and done and what he'd gleaned from it, down even to the story Rhuntak had told him. Even if it seemed insignificant or irrelevant, he'd written it down. It was while he was doing this that things began jumping out at him that confused him, but without talking to Davian and Laxus, and of course Serrill, as wicked smart as he was, he didn't want to draw any conclusions.

"Well, we're meetin' up to try and figure stuff out," Gajeel shrugged, "Thought I'd try to get my head straight. Figured maybe you guys would want ta do the same."

Davian blinked, taken aback, "That's... quite smart."

"Yeah… I get a good one every so often," he muttered.

Serrill came up behind him, looking over his shoulder to his many notes and their chaotic arrangement. Davian poured himself a glass of wine and reclined in the overstuffed chair at Gajeel's side, pulling open his bag and drawing out two books, a leatherback journal and what looked to be the book Gajeel had found in Laxus's nightstand, embossed with the ritual circle. Laxus stood with arms crossed, surveying them with that commanding presence he always had, the emotion fading from his features. To anyone else, it was just Laxus standing there watching patiently, but Gajeel recognized the tension in his shoulders, noted how he balled his fists. He was worried.

"Gajeel and I think Father's trying to become a god," Serrill began.

Davian blinked rapidly, completely blindsided by the idea, "How in Oros's Death and Rebirth did you possibly come to that conclusion?"

"So we met this witch in the desert…" Serrill took his time recounting what they'd been through with Madame Guéneva, her god, and what they gleaned from whatever god she worshipped. He was surprised when Davian bared his teeth, his face a mix of derision and fury at just the mention of the Madame. Laxus stepped away, taking his time to pour his own bourbon whiskey. Gajeel watched him closely, remembering that god had mentioned he'd proposed a deal with Laxus. Something about it had rattled him, though he hid it well. His subtle tell, brushing his finger against the scar across his eye, the only thing giving him away. Gajeel's stomach twisted.

"Well, that confirms for me a few things, notably that Tzopilatl is making some sort of grab for power," Davian said, eyeing Laxus steadily, "He offered for Laxus to be his avatar... for near-unlimited power."

Gajeel furrowed his brow, not liking the idea of a god, spirit, whatever having interest in Laxus. He remembered how drained he'd seemed at the train station, the purple bags under his eyes. "Why?"

"I can control lightning, and Virale, and use them interchangeably. Wizards can't usually, and if I tap into a god's, I would have nearly unlimited power," Laxus said, sipping his whiskey casually, as if what he said wasn't awe-inspiring in the slightest, "I'm starting to control it better."

Davian tensed, "What do you mean?"

"When I shocked you both at the temple, that wasn't magic. I couldn't use magic. None of us could," Laxus said, "Guéneva said I could turn Virale into magic, and vice versa. I don't know how to use Virale, but magic..."

Davian stared at him, dumbfounded. Laxus was staring down at his hand. Yellow static scattered across it as he concentrated, trying to find the words to explain though they fled him.

"There's a pulse of life... in everything. I couldn't see it before but now I can see it whenever I look for it. When I tried to eat Father's energy, it was so strong it felt like being burned alive. I did something similar when I tried to... get you to snap out of it. I can align our energies and try to manipulate it," Laxus sighed, lacking the words, "I've done it with Gajeel."

Davian snapped his attention to Gajeel, giving him a critical once-over, "You... know how to perform rituals."

Gajeel shrugged, "Kind of."

With clear trepidation, Davian looked to Laxus again, "What do you see? When you see Virale? That is to say, that's not... surely you can't just see it. You have to pull it out. Use oweyenne or copal-"

"No. I see it. It's in your spine, your nervous system, and it expands..." Laxus huffed, clenched his fist, and they all watched as something flickered to life around him. Electricity crackled into being, a bright orb that immediately vanished again when he released his concentration. He wrinkled his nose, clearly agitated at how difficult what he had just done was. "I dragged it out of Bickslow. Used it to see his memories."

"Sometimes, it's like stepping out onto something. Feeling around me. Other times it's just like Magic. I can feel it, like static trapped in the air…" His voice was dreamy as he grappled with what he was trying so hard to describe. His gaze became unfocused, and Gajeel came to the realization he was looking for his own now, "Gajeel's is green like his magic. Serrill's is silver. I feel like if I can learn it enough… it'll be just like lightning to me…"

His eyes fell back down to Gajeel. He understood. Of course he did. Hadn't Laxus placed electricity in him just to drag him up the mountain? He'd turned him into raw lightning, entwined them together. Even more than that, when Laxus had told him he'd free him with servitude, exposed him like a broken tooth to cold air, he had washed over him like an ocean, drowned him in his own boundless power. Gajeel had pledged his heart to him. Did Laxus understand what he'd done, truly?

Absentmindedly, he ran his hand over the mark left on his thigh that prickled his skin with energy. Lightning. Inside of his soul, inside of his body. But it had never been so significant until Laxus had laid claim to it.

Laxus broke his eye contact, looking down to Davian, "I'm learning to control it."

"You... you can't possibly..." Davian began.

"I can show you," Laxus glanced over to Gajeel, whose stomach dropped. A smile twisted on his lips and he gave a mild shake of his head. Davian's eyes widened as he noticed the exchange. His heart clenched at the demand that was clearly building on his lips. Gajeel let out a tight sigh.

"Just... be careful with me..." he gritted out, "I'm fragile right now, Laxus."

He gave him an apologetic smile and tilted his head to the side. Gajeel felt it immediately, a similar feeling to the searching tug Davian had used on him once. But Laxus knew precisely what he was looking for, driving straight for the lightning that he'd entwined into him. Gajeel full body shivered as it was called by Laxus's silent command, effervescing up through his skin to break across his body. He clenched his fists, trying to keep still as it raced up his spine like a particularly wild thrill. He would have thrown his head back if there weren't eyes on him. Laxus released him and he gasped, completely unaware he'd been holding his breath.

"Did I hurt you?" Laxus asked quietly.

Jittery, Gajeel shook his head, "I, uh... t's just intense. You... you are... just a really strong wizard, mîn luz. I'm tryin' real hard ta get used to it. Give me some time."

Laxus sipped his whiskey quietly as Davian gawked at him, "You can just... do that? Whenever you want?"

Laxus shrugged, "Yeah."

"Only gods can use Virale without sacrifice!" Davian snapped, "That's... it's what makes them gods. That and the amount they have, which is... monumental. Father fed off of you for a year, and you only started revealing the effects in the last few months?"

Laxus shrugged, "It's not as strong as yours... I don't think." That gave Davian pause so Laxus elaborated, "Yours changes. It's hard to tell."

"It... changes?" Davian asked, "In what way?"

Laxus huffed again, struggling for words all over again, "Madame Guéneva, I could see hers, but also her god's inside of her. But yours... wasn't there, or, it was but... it was fuzzy, and blue. Now it's gold, like Father's... but not as bright. Father was like staring at the sun. Yours was only like that when you were possessed."

"Alright... yes. Why not?" Davian bit at no one in particular. "You looked Tzopliatl in the face and disgraced him without being annihilated, attempted to consume Father's life energy and were at least successful in not getting killed on the spot, and looked upon Its face without going insane. Why don't we just start the Cult of Laxus, while we're at it?"

"And if the storm hadn't appeared out of nowhere, I would have died." Laxus replied scathingly, "It's not that impressive. I can barely do anything with it."

"The dragons could," Gajeel said, gaining Davian's attention.

"What?" he demanded.

"Your brother told me. They could use magic and Virale, transform it from one form to another. He said – what did he say? He made me feel like I was dyin' and pulled it out of me, because he wanted me to see it." Gajeel ran his hand down his face, trying not to shudder at the memory, "It responds to me, even if I don't know it. Emotion, pleasure, and pain. He said when I'm in pain it's concentrated enough to touch. It grows... the more pain I'm in. He said something about how it's like when magic turns my element into an extension of my body. It's similar."

Davian looked nothing short of horrified, "That's… insane."

"Like he lied?" Gajeel prodded, already tired of the way he was looking at him.

"N-no... no. But pain isn't the only... it isn't the best way to go about it. It's a way, or perhaps, maybe it just suits him," Davian curled his lip, "But any strong feeling makes it potent. You know this. How many fertility rituals have you participated in at this point?"

Gajeel shrugged and Davian's eyes widened at him in disbelief.

"You don't know?"

Again, Gajeel shrugged, "I didn't exactly know what I was doin', Major. I was told ta show up, I did."

"You never asked?" his voice hitched up in his bafflement.

"She explained a little about it once, because I threatened not to help her anymore, but that was it," Gajeel said, feeling like he was betraying the witch a bit. He wasn't giving details, though, so he supposed he wasn't reallybreaking his word, "S'why when Bianca told me what she wanted, I sorta knew what she was talkin' about. I didn't think… Celeste only talked about the goddess of the moon, and I didn't even believe that was real. I didn't think I would actually do something."

"This is why wizards shouldn't be involved in these things," Davian hissed, "You didn't even understand what you were opening the door to but ran headlong into it anyway! There's no sanctity, no respect."

"Yeah... 'cuz strappin' a man ye've drugged and starved for a week down ta a table and tellin' 'em to make the choice between him or his friend bein' raped is real fuckin' holy."

Davian's eyes blew open and he grimaced, immediately falling back on his words, "I didn't... I apologize. I didn't mean to say-"

"It's fine." Gajeel interrupted him, ignoring the feel of his heart picking up its pace, talking through tightness in his throat. "Just watch the high-and-mighty shit."

"What I meant was... these things are dangerous. It's not like magic, you can't treat it that way. The gods are capricious and they make decisions based off their own motives. A heavy price to us could be trivial to them, depending on what they're after. You could offer them what for you is a major sacrifice and they may see nothing of value and will punish you for the offense. The stakes are high and ever-changing," Davian said, his inflection gentle, placating, "I do sincerely apologize. I didn't mean to... trivialize what you were forced to endure. And certainly I don't blame you for all of this."

Gajeel dismissed him with a wave. Laxus was watching warily, clearly torn on whether or not he should be coming to Gajeel's defense. Gajeel just huffed.

"Well, it's a little late for all that anyway, ain't it?" Gajeel muttered, leaning back into the sofa and crossing his arms.

"I suppose so." Davian replied, schooling a miserable tone, "You mentioned you saw Father? Beneath the temples?"

"Kinda... I mostly, ah, felt it. I'm guessin' that thing that makes you lose your cool?" Gajeel said, studying the distress that crossed Davian's face. "Real violent… and hungry to the point it hurt."

His voice was small, "You... can feel that, too?"

"If I wasn't so scared, I would have ripped out your brother's heart and eaten it." Gajeel said, ignoring how quiet the room had become, "It wants revenge, as bloody and painful as It can get it. They need a dragon."

"How? Why?!" Davian blurted, his tone hitching up in his distress.

"To become a god," Serrill stated again, as if it were obvious, "You guys seriously can't see it?"

"But It practically is already!" Davian said, presenting his hands, "The Temple of the Sun is almost completely dedicated to It, now. Hardly anyone remembers the old prayers, just the ones Father made. I mean, even I... when I..." Davian shook his head, attempting to compose himself, "It is a god, just as much as Tzopilatl is. Perhaps even more. All that's left is taking a place in their realm. It Ascended once, if It wanted to be a god It would have made a home there not in the Otherworld."

"Madame Guéneva did say they couldn't dispel the spirit," Serrill mused, "They reall are on the same level, then?"

"That is not necessarily true. The gods have their limits, a scope of influence. They cannot heedlessly step outside of it, especially if it infringes on another god's domain. It's… political." Davian waved his hand back and forth as if trying to clear the air of his demoralizing thoughts, "Tzopilatl is over the desert and those who die in it, those who are forgotten. Laxus was dying in His domain, the god could easily intervene. When I beseeched Ulo for rain by sacrificing a stag in the river, and He gave power the storm that saved Laxus. I wouldn't have been able to ask that of Oros, because it is outside of His domain. He is a god of Creation from Destruction, He doesn't control the rain and would answer to Ulo if He tried... which, I'm sure you could understand, is not good for us mortals caught in their crossfire."

"I don't understand," Gajeel said, catching Davian off guard, "Why would that matter? It ain't like they're fighting here. What's it matter to me if the gods fight in some Otherworld, realm of the gods, whatever. Let 'em kill each other. Why not?"

Davian scoffed, "You can't be serious-"

"He is," Serrill said, his voice quiet in an unsettling way, "Your culture was stomped out long before we were born. Most of what was recorded during the genocides were biased, talking about wild peoples killing each other to satisfy bloodthirsty gods that didn't exist. A means to justify their extermination."

"We're wizards, Major. What the hell have we ever needed gods for? We have Magic." Gajeel huffed, leaning forward onto his knees, "Stop assumin' we have any idea how any of this shit works. We don't."

Gajeel watched the emotions work across Davian's face. Outrage, understanding, deflation. He let out a long sigh and rubbed at the crease between his brow that seemed to have been stuck there ever since the conversation had begun.

"Of course, yes, why would you?" he sighed, "Where do you expect me to begin, dragon slayer?"

"Creation," Serrill said, blue eyes piercing into Davian like silvery barbs.

Gajeel shot him a curious look, "Now ain't a great time for a religious history lesson, Serrill,"

"I need context," he replied sharply, a stony look about him saying he wasn't going to budge.

Gajeel grimaced but didn't argue further. Davian hid and exasperated look.

"I see, well, I'll try to keep it skeletal."

Gajeel crossed his arms and waited patiently for him to gather his thoughts. Davian, rather theatrically, cleared his throat, straightened his spine, took a sip of his wine, and began:

"We believe that the world has been destroyed four times, although some believe it is five. Whatever the case, each destruction correlates with the changing of heavens, the realm of the gods. Beginning with Ytvian, God of Order and Destiny, who bore The Eternal Tree from which the realms were hung, and gave life to the first gods. Of them, there were many, but namely Oros of Creation and Destruction, Dhaseyar of Mages and Chaos, Ulo of Storms and Waters, Zeva of Earth and Life, Xelarus of Fire and Conquest, Vilra of Blood and Spirit, Aesis of Air and Wind, and Niotl of Love and Hatred. Upon this first creation, it was Ytvian's last breath which graced life unto the realms as They became the Tree itself, leaving the first gods, the primordial gods, charge of all of creation, and creation was to worship and feed the gods.

The first destruction came because Oros grew jealous of Dhaseyar. He was the sun and beneath Him creation was scattered, subject to wild magic that He refused to contain. Oros, with aid from Xelarus, planned a coup to oust Him as the sun god. They created an arrow to shoot Him from the sky. Dhaseyar's collapse into the oceans caused a tidal wave to decimate the land, and without the warmth from His sun, the world was covered in ice. This killed the mortals, from which the gods derive power, so they, naturally, scrambled to remake creation.

Death did not exist for mortals until this first great extinction, and so it created the first void and give rise to Yteus of Death and Dreams. Their body bore Shunoya, the Realm of the Dead, and They rule over it as the last respite from the gods. In order to restore life, Zeva was broken into pieces and scattered over the earth. It was Her first sacrifice that demanded blood from the mortals, so She would keep the land fertile and allow their crops to grow.

Oros became the second sun, and under His influence the mortals thrived. But they were left unchecked, because the god valued His creation above all others and would not curb them. They no longer worshiped the gods, and in a display of his power, Dhaseyar turned them into beasts and set them against each other. This humbled Oros who stepped down from the sun. To revive creation, the god sacrificed His mortal form and became the first to Ascend, leaving the land of mortals.

Ulo was the next to claim the sun, but in His absence, Xelarus kidnapped His wife, Niotl, and kept Her as His own. Ulo demanded His wife back, threatening drought, and Xelarus responded by sending fire and black smoke into the heavens, blocking Him out. Ulo, crafty and vindictive, took this fire and made it rain acid, killing life and allowing the mortals to starve. Niotl gave Herself to restore creation, gifted wisdom from Oros to use Ascension as a means to escape Xelarus.

By this time, Ulo had taken a new wife, Vilra. She was beloved and became the fourth sun. Under Her, creation thrived again. Many more gods were created during this time, including Dihasis. Who knows why, but Dhaseyar didn't like Her success and began spreading a rumor that She only feigned kindness out of a selfish desire to be worshipped as the one true god, turning most of the gods against Her, including Her husband. In Her grief, She cried blood until the seas became toxic and boiled, destroying the fish and causing creation to unravel once again.

The last creation ended with the gods' exodus from our plane. Oros and Dhaseyar descended into the underworld and brought back the bones of man. Dhaseyar created from the bones man and wizards. Oros, lizardfolk. The gods sacrificed their physical bodies, leaving our plane forever."

"Why leave forever?" Laxus asked, curling his lip.

"It was their covenant," Davian said patiently, "It was the gods fighting amongst themselves which destroyed creation so many times. Part of the Ascension was to make it more difficult for creation to be destroyed again."

"Why did they all wanna be the sun so badly?" Gajeel muttered, earning a smirk from the chameleon.

"For the same reason they also fought over the moon. They are the largest things in the heavens. No matter what the mortals knew their name by, the sun and the moon are the most worshipped gods. Whoever claimed them, would also claim the most power," Davian said, twisting his wrist as he explained. "The gods are not perfect. They look out for themselves as much as they do mortals. They are fickle, and subject to fleeting fancies. It is why working with them can be difficult and dangerous. We are but matches in a windstorm to them, here one second and gone the next."

"Which is why you need the Aurincarae," Laxus said, "An avatar, to be the go-between."

"Yes," Davian hummed, seemingly impressed he had remembered, "that is correct."

"So, who became the sun and the moon, then?" Serrill asked, "I've heard of the moon goddess, and the sun god, but I've never heard someone give them a name."

"Oh, no, and certainly if they did you wouldn't catch me saying them. One of the many bindings of the gods' covenant was two would be chosen to assume the roles of the sun and the moon, and they would maintain the balance of the heavens. To keep them from becoming too powerful, they were stripped of their names. We have conjecture, of course. For instance, the Lamia believe their goddess, Izthys, to be one of the faces of the moon, given her aspects of sexuality and her vindictive nature. The Auré believed Dhaseyar had assumed the role as the sun, and to this day their priest wears the red sun on his tunic to symbolize Him."

"You know the Auré?" Gajeel asked, perking up.

"Of course. We have history with them," Davian said pragmatically, "We were... well, sort of enemies, you could say. They were devoted to Dhaseyar, which was why they naturally turned to the mages. We were devoted to Oros. The two had a bitter rivalry. They only worked together on the one occasion, to bring back life. That event was nearly cataclysmic in itself. It's said that it was their power brushing against each other that gave birth to the dragons... which may be why they can use Virale and Magic. Only Dhaseyar's creation can use Magic, after all."

"Why did you have a rivalry, then? They worked together in the end," Serrill said.

"Oh, creation is just one of many stories. Dhaseyar and Oros were always pitting themselves against each other."

"When I visited the Auré a while back," Gajeel said, sipping his whiskey, "their shaman, Papá Ohmara, said his great-grandad was one of the Osaloua. He said his daughter went missing at Oragathol'i after somethin' came to their hut at night and spoke to her. He thought it was Oros."

Davian shook his head, frowning and fidgeting with his drink, "No. That was... undoubtedly Father."

"He said the Osaloua used to take their warriors captive and sacrifice them to Him."

"Oh, well, yes. We were a warring nation, at the time. But you need to understand, things weren't as they were today. We all worshipped the gods, fed the gods. The Auré also captured our people and gave them to Dhaseyar. Giving your life to feed the gods, to continue the turning of the world, it was a high honor." Davian said, running his finger around the rim of his glass as he spoke, his eyes distant as though recalling a memory from long ago, "I know you think we dragged the unwilling to the altar, ripped out their beating hearts in some bestial show of devotion, but very few rituals allow for a lack of consent, which is why Bianca's ritual was destined to fail from the start. Coercion is not consent. Even if you say the words, if they were forced, the ritual is null. The same goes for feeding the gods, for most rituals. In the absence of consent, ignorance is required, but even that concept is fraught."

He took off his glasses, running his hand down his face as he continued on.

"You can have ignorance in a fertility ritual, or a ritual requiring meditation. Just don't say it's a ritual. Of course, sex would need to be consensual even in the event of ignorance, but one does not simply trick an offering to the altar. When the knife is displayed, the veil of ignorance is shattered. Dhaseyar would occasionally allow unwilling sacrifice, Xelarus, and I suppose Niotl under specific circumstances... oh, and the moon."

"The goddess of the moon?" Serrill asked, "But isn't She supposed to be... kind?"

"Generally, the full moon is, but she has eight faces, and each one is unique. No, Her dark sides are chaotic, vindictive. The waning phases, the new moon. She can just as much be an agent of evil as She can for good. Any cult can call on Her power. I do, often, just as my brother often calls on the sun. Almost every cleansing ritual I have involves the moon... and his healing is derived from the sun," Davian said.

"Wait... but... you're an avatar of Oros?" Laxus asked, confused. Gajeel's eyes narrowed, his mind turning over the idea of Orotrushit worshiping the sun, "Can you also be an avatar of the moon?"

"Certainly not," Davian scoffed, "The goddess rarely chooses biological males, and she is an extremely jealous god. She does not allow Her devotees to swear allegiance to others, or even call on them for aid without an offering to Her first. If She had the slightest interest in me, I wouldn't be Chosen of Oros or The Favorite Son. Much unlike the sun. His cult is extremely misogynistic, almost exclusively masculine, although I believe there was once a fluid priest? Quite before my time, and they couldn't become a high priest… I digress. He doesn't seem to be jealous, as His priests could be called to more than one god.

He paused, falling deep into a thought, "The cult of the sun and the cult of the moon are quite antithetical but also synergistic... or, well, they were."

"Were?" Serrill prompted, frowning.

"Well, the cult of the sun is all but dead... and perhaps He is too," Davian said nonchalantly, "During the Z'ragnaró de Draodh, the last of His high priests were slain and for whatever reason He never called any others. No priests mean no one to do His rituals, no one to grow His cult. Like Tzopilatl, His cult fell to ruin, His monuments destroyed aside from anything salvaged by the moon's devotees."

"But Tzopilatl did choose another avatar..." Serrill mused, deep in thought, "Why wouldn't the sun?"

"In a vision from Dihasis, the sphynxes claimed He'd been locked from His power, but we don't know why or how, just when." Davian shrugged, "And so many things happened all at once. Dhaseyar was killed by the first god slayer. So many of us were exterminated. Father's Ascension. Many cults were wiped out, their gods with them. The heavens were so drastically shaken it's hard to tell what happened."

"You seem real calm about the sun being dead," Laxus said, a wry smirk on his face.

"Does it not still shine?" Davian prompted with a dismissive wave of his hand, "It is a part of the heavens, dead god or not. Even if the throne is empty, it is still there. It still holds a modicum of power."

Gajeel crossed his arms, sweeping his eyes over his notes. He remembered Celeste's lilting voice telling him how he empowered the goddess, his thoughts twisting to how he'd unwittingly empowered Father with his bloodlust. The gods truly were nothing without mortals, which stood why they were so desperate to revive creation so many times. But what did all this mean for him? He assumed it was important since Serrill was so adamant about learning more but to him it just sounded like a new iteration of powerful people using the weak.

Gajeel found himself staring down at his hands. He had been so accustomed to being used, he'd stopped caring who did it. He'd never really learned exactly what rituals he'd been a part of. He didn't think the witch had meant him ill will; he was just means to an end when it came down to it, and that had never bothered him before. But Davian had said the goddess was jealous. If She had made some claim to him, surely he wouldn't have been able to make a covenant with Father.

"You seem thoughtful, Master Dragon," Davian pried, leaning into his palm, "Why have you become so quiet?"

"Does it leave a mark? Being in a ritual?" Gajeel asked honestly, his eyes flashing to Laxus before he could stop himself, "Magic does... leaves somethin' behind."

Davian's gaze was keen, noting his quick look by also casually glancing the blonde's way. He didn't seem to notice, too engrossed in reading things Gajeel had written down.

"Well, it all depends. How long were involved with the priestess? How many rituals did you participate in? What did you participate in?"

"She never told me what exactly, just that they were fertility rituals. We were in a drought. It would have been the second year we had a poor harvest. It rained. Everything turned around." Gajeel shrugged, "She'd just sorta show up and tell me where ta go. Couple times a week, maybe?"

"Apologies but... what? A couple times... for more than one week?" Davian asked, his voice hitching upward with his disbelief.

Gajeel scratched at his neck, "Like a few months."

Davian opened and closed his mouth, struggling for words, "Y-You... that's... so many. Um… what kind?"

"I don't know," Gajeel snapped.

"You said she made a circle in charcoal? What were the symbols?" Davian demanded.

"I wasn't exactly takin' notes, Major," Gajeel griped and was startled when Davian pushed a pen and pad towards him.

"You and I both know you have an excellent memory. Or do I need to remind you of my interrogation where you easily recalled happenings from your days in Phantom Lord, Kurogane?" he insisted crossly, "What did the ritual circles look like?"

Gajeel wrinkled his nose, annoyed at being thoroughly cornered, and put his mind to recalling the symbols he'd seen. Though it had been dark, and not always consistent, he did remember one particular circle he'd been splayed in the center of on at least six different occasions and set about drawing it. He remembered the symbol for power, drawn on his chest as well, and symbols that definitely looked like sex organs, but also others that looked similar to Draconic letterings, but he'd never been able to make sense of them. When he finished, Davian's eyes were wide and his mouth was open, staring with amazement or horror or something that was disturbingly quiet. He opened the book with the ritual circle on it, flipping immediately to a page and dropping it down in front of them.

"This, you did this ritual?" he demanded.

Gajeel's embarrassment made him feel hot, flushing up to his crown and down into his chest. Serrill's eyebrows shot upwards, as impressed as he was aghast.

"Fucks sakes, Gajeel," Laxus muttered.

"At least tell me you weren't in the middle of it," Davian said.

Gajeel blushed harder.

It was not just one ritual circle, but nine. There was one in the center and eight surrounding it. Illustrated extremely plainly – and in an amount of detail Gajeel didn't appreciate at all – were nine sets of couples all in the center of each respective circle, the central one having a woman with hands coated in black and eyes upturned towards the full moon, with some sort of halo of white light emanating from her head. The man beneath her had that same symbol of power Gajeel had recalled on his chest, laying beneath her. There was writing along each side of the elaborate illustration, and Gajeel wasn't exactly itching to know what it said.

"I mean... I just did what she told me to?" he defended weakly.

"You did this? Twice? Three times?"

"Six."

"Six?!"

"Yeah... six..." Gajeel sighed, "She was real pushy about it... and pissed she had ta wait until summer."

"What?!"

"I was outta town in the spring?" Gajeel said, shooting his eyes to Laxus quickly, this time with intent behind it. Davian caught his meaning and his mouth fell open once again.

"She was angry she couldn't use you while you were in heat?"

"This is gettin' real personal in a way I wasn't expecting," Gajeel muttered, looking pointedly off in any direction that wasn't their faces.

"Do you have any idea-? No, of course you don't! This isn't just a fertility ritual. This is The Fertility Ritual. You must have a high priestess to do this, and, preferably, a priest of the sun. Every woman involved must be called by the moon goddess. This is a massive undertaking! Six?! That… should have been large enough for even me to notice it…"

He suddenly lost steam, "Six massive rituals like that should have sent ripples throughout the Otherworld. And all it was used for was to turn around a harvest?"

Gajeel murmured, "Madame Guéneva said it was run of the mill."

"Well, that's... I certainly hope you're wrong," Davian said, stunned, "I can only assume that means the goddess has lost a significant amount of her influence."

"And that means?" Laxus prompted.

"She is dying."

"Dying?" Serrill said, "How? She has a following. She has a high priestess."

"But She derives power from the sun, and as I said, the throne is empty." Davian's lips twisted, his tone turning cold, flat, "What does that mean for the rest of us, I wonder? If we can lose the power of the sun and the moon, so many practices will be hampered. Ah... I don't want to think about it."

"Well, Major, don't know if you noticed, but I'm ain't a priest of the sun," Gajeel scoffed, "I ain't exactly what she needed."

"Well, that seems to matter little. I felt the promise you and your other half made to each other from miles away. You're clearly gifted enough."

"Laxus was gifted enough," Gajeel said, turning his eyes away, "He's the one who can use Virale whenever. I tried but… it don't do much."

Davian's eyes flickered up towards him. He took a deep breath, folded his fingers together and leaned against the arm of his chair, studying him. He pursed his lips, his gaze distant as he thought.

"No... no, I don't think so," his pupils contracted as he concentrated on him, looking him up and down, "No, it's you. Why did she want you? Why does Father want you? And I would bet Tzopilatl showed interest in you, didn't He? He wanted your blood spilled as well. Why are the gods so focused on you."

"I thought you said Father could have gone after any of us?" Laxus said, frowning, "If it had been me or Natsu... it could have happened to us."

"But It didn't, did it?" Davian said slowly, "No... It had you, too, Laxus. It could have stopped devouring you. It could have slowed down, remained hidden and taken you instead. Drawn you in with the prospect of Gajeel's death. It didn't. It grew more aggressive the closer you became because It wanted you dead, not for use in a ritual, but to get rid of you. It wants Gajeel. Why?"

"Revenge?" Gajeel tried.

"For Aeleora? Certainly not."

"On my dad," he replied, and that made Davian pause to consider.

He narrowed his eyes, "Your father? The dragon?"

"Yeah, so, Papá Ohmara told me a story the Auré have of fighting with the wizards against the Osaloua? They couldn't win because an old god came out of the ground to fight with them, a giant feathered serpent..."

"That's... n-no..." Davian frowned. He shook his head as if he were trying to banish a thought, "That was most likely the transformation..."

"Transformation?" Laxus prodded, but straightened before Davian could answer, something clicking into place in his mind, "Like Rut? One of the Osaloua turned into a giant feathered snake?"

"I-I... Th-There are old stories from before Father's Ascension, about the battles leading up to our destruction. We fought the mages many times until one day a dragon came down from the mountains and aided the wizards…" he narrowed his eyes as if it were difficult for him to see, "The dragon was stronger than Father… it tore It from the skies…"

"The dragon was my dad, Metalicana." Gajeel said, and noticed movement from the corner of his eye. Laxus had tipped his head to the side as if listening for something, his eyes dashing around the room. "The Auré had a ceremony they were doin', The Dance of the Fighting Dragon, telling the story of my dad fighting what they called Aowas-"

Davian's eyes flushed with gold and he shuddered, flinching as if he'd just been hit. At the same time, Gajeel heard the sound of something shifting in the room around them, a heavy weight that bent the fabric and immediately had him on his feet, head snapping around to catch sight of a shadow that didn't exist. Laxus hadn't moved, but his fingers were folded together, his gaze intense as he looked into Davian like he was watching something manifest.

"D-Don't… say that n-name…" Davian whispered.

"What's wrong?" Serrill demanded.

"You don't hear it?" Laxus said slowly, eyes still piercing into Davian.

"Hear what?" Serrill pressed, dropping his voice as he strained his ears to listen. He didn't hear anything aside from the music coming through the speakers.

A chill raced up his spine as three sets of inhuman eyes shifted to him at once, scarlet, yellow, and gold. He felt like a sparrow pinned under the weight of a cat, and he froze in kind. There was a long silence where he was aware of tension, aware that Davian was nervous and Gajeel was on alert and Laxus was waiting in silent observation. He felt like he was going to suffocate, smothered underneath his own ignorance. At long last, Davian spoke first.

"Wizards can't use Virale," he said, "He doesn't feel it."

"Lucky bastard," Gajeel hummed.

"We don't have time to sit here like slack-jawed idiots," Laxus spoke in a commanding way, forcing them back on topic, "Revenge doesn't explain Celeste's interest."

"Did the priestess ever say anything to you?" Davian tried, rubbing his temples to banish what was left of Father's influence on his mind, "Or any of the other priestesses? Surely they had to allude to something."

"She said crazy shit all the time. How am I supposed to know? It was always just sex and power. All she ever talked about was sex and power, and the moon." Gajeel ran his hand over his face. He thought long and hard, trying to remember anything that might be useful, "My will?"

"Your… will?" Davian said, his forehead wrinkling, "What about it?"

Gajeel shrugged, "She said I had an annihilating will. That it was too strong. She was worried I'd ruin her ritual, but she liked using me because it was rare, I guess. Probably because I'm a dragon slayer. If I had ta guess, she'd say the same about him."

Davian frowned, looking from Gajeel to Laxus.

"Don't look at me. I've never done anything like that," Laxus said.

"What did she say to you? When she cornered you?" Davian asked him.

Laxus shrugged, blushing, "She sort of just propositioned me for sex… asked if I wanted to feel the magic of the moon."

Gajeel chuckled and Laxus shot him a glare.

"Funny, is it?"

"Yer such a conservative man," Gajeel flourished his hand towards the ritual, "Imagine if you said yes."

"It doesn't bother you at all that your ex-girlfriend tried to get me to sleep with her?"

"Swête weder…" Gajeel said, his voice swinging low and dulcet, dripping with saccharine sweetness, "the fact you can still be petty is what makes me think everything will work out somehow."

Laxus opened his mouth, objection there until the reality of what he had just said sank in. Gajeel leaned his elbows onto his knees, his smile leaving him as he gave Laxus a sober look.

"A bloodthirsty god-thing wants to rip my heart out on an altar, and yer upset I ain't jealous over some witch's half-baked attempt to seduce you?" his brow rose sharply, "Did I have a reason ta worry?"

"No," Laxus said, rightfully put back in his place.

"There ya go."

"I'm upset someone is trying to kill you, too," Laxus replied, though it was said in the way of a man who lacked the word remorse in their lexicon. Gajeel tried not to roll his eyes.

"Someone is trying to kill you?" Dorian's voice cut the tension, and he leaned on the inside of the doorframe as a flurry of wait staff came rushing in to set the table with their meals, "Who would have guessed."

"Probably not you," Gajeel replied, immediately rising to head for his food.

"You could always invite them to a nice dinner," he said with a grin, "I need to install new carpets in the Lounge Room anyway."

"You happen ta know how to kill a god, Angel?" Gajeel asked sarcastically.

"Numina can't kill, Kurogane." He huffed a laugh, his features taking that sinister edge again, "That is a skill only mortals have."

"You never met Jose's wraiths, then," Gajeel responded.

He appeared thoughtful for just a moment before it vanished and his smile slid right back on his face, "Magic does force exception to rules, doesn't it?"

He rounded the room, refilling glasses and running his eyes over the table to ensure perfection before asking once again if they needed anything. He left with one more fleeting look over his shoulder to Gajeel, his smile notably missing.

"What sort of wizard is he?" Laxus asked.

Gajeel shrugged, "Can't say. Never seen him in action. Not many have. He doesn't like violence."

"Pray tell how you got such a rapport with him, then?" Davian asked, following him to the table, "The Montaines aren't easily impressed."

"I'd tell ya, but then I'd have ta kill ya," Gajeel replied dryly.

Serrill chuckled, though it held a nervous edge, "Anyone ever tell you you're one scary motherfucker?"

"Was a joke, Serrill."

They all took their seats around the table, digging into their respective meals. Gajeel wasn't sure why he did it, but when he took his seat next to Laxus he slipped his foot behind Laxus's heel, making it so their knees brushed each other, their legs thoroughly hooked together. It was comforting, and made his chest feel warm. He disregarded his love's questioning look, made no move when a wide hand spread over his leg, posessive and soothing at the same time. A moment later, his hand withdrew as if the moment hadn't happened at all.

Gajeel sipped his whiskey, not keen on uncomfortable silence. But he knew exactly how to break it.

"So… whatcha thinkin' Serrill?" Gajeel asked, and watched as life parked back in his cold gaze. A crooked grin pulled across his face.

"That obvious?" he asked.

"T's the only time yer quiet, ain't it? When yer thinkin' real hard on somethin'?"

"I'm convinced I know what Father wants, I just don't know what to do about it." Serrill said, poking at his food, "It wants to become a god, and It wants to be on this plane."

"Well It can't do both," Davian said, "Such was the pact of the gods."

"But the sun and the moon… they're on this plane, aren't they?"

"And unreachable and nameless," Davian said pointedly, "and dead or dying."

Serrill chewed on that for a moment, "How do you kill a god? It's been done, obviously, there are god slayers… and Dhaseyar was killed."

Davian sighed, shaking his head, "You would need to be on their same plane of existence… God slaying magic possesses some quality which allows its usage in the Otherworld. The same way dragon slaying magic was gifted by dragons, it was gifted by a god… Dhaseyar, I believe, in another bid for power."

"And then He was killed with it," Laxus said, "Poetic."

"When was he killed?" Serrill asked.

"Oros's Teeth, I've not the slightest idea. It has gone the way of legend, as most old tales do. There are kernels of truth but certainly you can't hope to obtain specifics from it," Davian said with a sigh, "During some sort of celestial alignment. That would be the only time a god could be close enough to this world, when the Otherworld is pushed flush with ours. They could be called to the in-between and be killed. And then, of course, the absence of any worship whatsoever would lead to a decline and inevitable death."

"And… someone killed the sun?" Serrill asked, "Who killed the sun?"

Davian shrugged, "Perhaps Dihasis could shed insight, but that knowledge is beyond me, unfortunately."

"When did Father Ascend?" Laxus asked.

"Shortly before the destruction of the Osaloua," Davian responded.

"Yes, but when? What day? During a solar eclipse?"

"Or the solstice, an equinox, perhaps, a lunar eclipse, maybe," Davian said, "Again, these stories are over three-hundred years old. The records we do have were written after the fact and kept closely in the underground. I've read some, but it was under Father's direction and guidance. Its Ascension was something I wasn't allowed detail on."

"Would yer brother know?" Gajeel asked.

"If he did, it would help us little. He's not exactly aligned to our interests." Davian replied snappishly.

"No, he's not." Gajeel said. He felt Laxus's knee press against his own softly, a silent question. Gajeel didn't elaborate, just took another sip of his whiskey.

"Ok… right… um, question?" Serrill asked, leaning towards Davian, "How do your rituals involving the sun work if he's dead or cut off from his power?"

"Worship. It empowers the gods," Davian said pragmatically, "It is why we sacrifice."

"Right but the sun doesn't have a cult."

"Oh, darling, everything worships the sun, whether they know it or not," he smirked, "The world inhales and exhales sunlight. Almost every plant, every leaf, tree, or flower, is heliophilic. Mankind craves sunlight. You hear it in songs, read it in books, poetry, archetypes, everywhere. The throne is imbued with power even if the god is absent. But without direction, without guidance, it sort of goes everywhere, as with sunlight itself. Similar can be said of the moon. You worship Her without even knowing it."

"So… if She dies, it'll be like the sun?" Serrill asked.

"The throne holds power… power that will seep into the universe and vanish."

"So... there's a power vacuum." Serrill said. "Why haven't any of the gods tried to fill it, then?"

"Isn't it obvious? They can't." Laxus said, "The sun and the moon are on our plane, and they can't come here."

"Why, yes," Davian said, not hiding his impress in the slightest, "Yes, that's correct."

"You're kidding," Serrill scoffed, "Why would they ever make a deal to never come back again if that could happen?"

"Because they didn't think they could die. Why would they? They're gods, Serrill. Imperfect, greedy, power-hungry gods who didn't think they could die. And especially not the sun, the strongest power in their eyes." Laxus said, quirking a brow at him, "Every time one of them died, it was because they chose to in order to bring life back to Earthland."

"Well, and Oros had a hand," Davian said, "God of Creation from Destruction used the life of the god to create new life. A willing sacrifice to create something new."

"A willing sacrifice," Laxus said, "Is that why you need consent?"

"Typically." Davian said, "As I said before, there are exceptions."

"Right… Obviously…" Laxus rested his chin in his palm, thinking, "And we still don't know what ritual it even is."

"Does it matter?" Gajeel asked, "We don't need to know what it is ta stop it."

"I'm telling you, It's trying to become a god on this plane." Serrill insisted.

"And as I stated before, It can't." Davian replied harshly.

Serrill stood abruptly and stepped from the table, pacing, "It is. Tzopilatl made it clear what He's after is revenge, He wants to destroy every mage possible. You said he propositioned Laxus, and when we were with Madame Guéneva, He said it again. There's a power vacuum that occurred around the same time this all began, the god of the sun was killed or locked away or whatever. It's obvious, isn't it? It wants to become the sun, to unlock unlimited power-"

"It's not unlimited. The gods do not have physical form. They can't-"

"But they did! They used to. That's what your legends say. They had physical form and then they left. If Father obtained a physical form and took the throne, what would happen? It already has a cult, a following. All of the different nations who come to the Temple of the Sun, your people, Davian, and I'd bet anything the Auré have something to do with it too."

"They are followers of Dhaseyar," Davian snapped.

"And they have a ritual they perform called the Dance of the Dragon, a god they recognize that you can't say the name of because Father won't let you. That means something!"

"And how would It Ascend to the throne, then?" Davian said, arms crossed and a snarl pulling his lips back, "One doesn't simply walk up to the sun. If that were the case, any wizard certainly would have done so by now."

That made Serrill stop, his brow furrowing as he thought. He frowned, a disgusted look on his face as he ran through every story he'd read about gods. Finally, he relented.

"I don't know."

"No one does," Davian said, lip curling.

"I bet Tzopilatl does," Gajeel said, and both men snapped their heads around to look at him, "He knew ways to become a god, and he mentioned a priest could if they were worshipped after they died… like your dad. But the Madame said there were other ways, she just didn't know them."

"So there's a way, we just don't know what it is." Laxus said.

"These are all massive leaps in logic." Davian said, "Rumors, legends, guesses. We can't bet on any of these things."

"You're right," Laxus said, his tone holding finality that left the rest of them silent in his wake, "So we should focus on what we need to do. We need to stop the ritual from happening."

"Knowin' what it is would help us figure out how," Gajeel pointed out.

"Why can't we wait it out?" Serrill asked, "Keep Gajeel safe until after the equinox. Simple enough."

"Shall we repeat this every celestial alignment?" Davian asked sarcastically, "What of the winter solstice? The spring equinox? The heavens will not hold for us."

"It would give us time," Serrill frowned.

"What does time do if we ain't gettin' anything figured out?" Gajeel said, "Yeah, sure, I can run and hide, but It will find me. We're connected because of the covenant. It don't matter where I go."

Serrill sighed, at a loss once again.

"You think maybe that's what your dad did?" Laxus asked, "Stopped the ritual?"

Gajeel poked at his food with his fork. He had destroyed La Divinora, hadn't he? To save a friend, perhaps, but that didn't mean he didn't stop something else in the process. The thunder dragon had been turned into a lacrima and then lost. Who was to say his dad hadn't stopped this exact ritual before?

Gajeel opened his mouth to say who knows, and immediately swallowed it. He glanced over to Laxus, pointedly looking at his eye.

"So… one of the things Orotrushit told me was that they made that lacrima in your eye. They took a dragon, killed it, and transferred its energy into a lacrima."

"Yeah…" Laxus hummed, brushing his thumb against his scar, "It, uh, says how in the Grimoire as well."

"That dragon knew my dad," Gajeel said, "Yer lacrima… does it have… a life of its own?'

"It's not alive," Laxus began, trying to be gentle, but paused when he remembered eating lightning at the guildhall, "Well… heh, so, I did something stupid…"

Gajeel gave him an unamused look and Laxus grinned, trying to appear unfazed.

"I got hungry."

"You ate the dragon?" Gajeel said flatly.

"No! I put lightning in my lacrima when I was in the rain forest. I was just taking it back out again, except it wasn't mine anymore. It had turned into… the dragon's," Laxus explained hastily, "When I tried to tap into it, I lost control of it. There was a dragon just… standing there? And it gave me lightning."

"Uh… huh…" Gajeel said, narrowing his eyes, "And this happened…?"

"Oh, uh… you know, while you were brooding in the forest somewhere."

There was a long beat of silence where Gajeel just stared at him. Davian cleared his throat.

"Gajeel, I think I know what happened that caused Laxus's change."

"Ya don't say…" Gajeel replied dryly.

At Laxus's questioning look, Davian waved towards Gajeel, "Your other half was worried about what could have caused your sudden, um… florescence." he grinned, clearly thinking himself clever, "I thought it was because of the storm."

Laxus furrowed his brow, thoroughly confused, and decided to just ask Gajeel himself, "Why were you worried?"

"Your heat was sudden," Gajeel said. Laxus looked away from him, immediately uncomfortable. Gajeel shored up his resolve, unsure whether he should say anything or not, "Typically, you have plenty of time to figure out what's goin' on. Prepare. And you just… ate a shit ton of lightning less than a week before. And you already never need to eat."

"What does-?" Laxus grimaced, "I don't think I want to know."

"You probably noticed when you burned through your magic, it got easier to handle?' Gajeel asked casually. Laxus didn't respond, just blushed and stared at the door to the kitchen, "What happens right after you eat your element, Laxus?'

"We can talk about anything else, really," Laxus muttered, scrubbing his face with his hands, "Note to self, don't eat lightning ever again."

"Ya can't starve, mîn yst." Gajeel chuckled, but mercifully, he changed the subject, "Did it talk to ya? Yer dragon?'

"If it did, I didn't understand it."

"Could you understand it?' Serrill asked.

Gajeel shrugged, "Assumin' it speaks."

"You could ask it if it knows what ritual it was used for? How Metalicana stopped it?' Serrill's eyes widened in his excitement.

"If I can control it," Laxus said sourly, rubbing at his eye at a sudden throb, "It fucking hurts pulling all that power out of me."

"I ain't gonna ask ya ta do anythin' ya ain't comfortable with, fairy."

"You have to at least try!" Serrill spluttered.

"No, he doesn't." Gajeel growled.

"What's more important? Your life or his eye?' Serrill asked sharply.

"Why don't we strike you with lightning and see how ya like it, then, eh? Lieutenant?' Gajeel bared his teeth.

"Of course, I'll try," Laxus said, silencing them both, "But it ruined the inside of the guild. We'll have to be out of town, at the very least."

"Ok… ok, yeah, we can do that." Serrill said, enthused once again.

"Laxus…" Gajeel cautioned.

Laxus rested his hand against his knee comfortingly, "Porlyusica can make me a new eye, Gajeel. She can't make me a new you."

Gajeel went quiet at that. His insides squirmed. There was a time he'd object to Laxus saying something like that. Lose his eye? Over him? But now… now he just hoped it was worth it.

He fisted his hand over heart absentmindedly, feeling his pulse beneath his knuckles. Forever.

"But we can't rely on that. We should come up with a plan," Laxus said, straightening, "In case we can't figure out what to do."

"What about a god slayer?' Serrill asked, "Aren't there two in Sabertooth?'

"You think Sherria could go up against Father?" Laxus scoffed.

"What about Orga? He's a lightning god slayer."

"Didn't you fight him?" Davian asked Laxus, "During the Grand Magic Games?"

"It was more Jura just handed his ass to him." Laxus said, "Sure, yeah… I'll give it a shot. Doubt he'll do it for me, but Sting idolizes Natsu, and all the mages in Sabertooth look up to their master. If I got Natsu to ask, I bet he'd come… assuming he's available."

Serrill frowned, "Ah… I hadn't considered that."

"He's one of their strongest." Laxus said, "More often than not he's on a job."

"Let us assume he isn't available… then what will you do?" Davian asked.

"Get the guild," Laxus said simply, "Go to Mirajane first, and she can have Warren use Telepathy to get everyone together."

"That ain't gonna work. Warren's out on a mission. Who knows when he'll be back," Gajeel said, "T's probably safe ta assume most people are… 'cept Mirajane… and Gramps."

Laxus furrowed his brow, "What? Why?"

Gajeel gave him an exasperated look, "T's probably a little different for you, eh? People contract you for missions just because of who you are."

"Ah... right…" Laxus said. "Fuck."

"What? What's wrong?" Serrill asked, concern oozing into his tone, "What does that mean?"

"Guild work slows down in the winter," Gajeel explained, "We take all the jobs we can get around this time. Most of the guild will be out."

"We can send out a call to get everyone back, but without someone with Telepathy to send the message, we'll have to track everyone down and send the message the old-fashioned way…" Laxus said. He crossed his arms and cursed his lack of forethought, "Goddammit… I should have asked Mira… dammit."

"It ain't yer fault, fairy…" Gajeel began, but Laxus's temper was already taking root.

"I should have done something. But I was too busy worrying about our fucking argument, and then…" Laxus scoffed, "Goddammit."

"It ain't yer fault, Laxus," Gajeel repeated. When Laxus opened his mouth to protest, Gajeel gave him a sharp look, "You can't control everything. You can't fix everything. Shit happens. We make the best of it."

"What about you?" Serrill said, turning to Davian, "Should we put up protections around the house?"

"I have them already," Davian replied, his gaze trained to his plate, "Though they do little."

"What about getting some of the cadets to patrol the grounds?" Serrill asked, "We can spare some."

"Hardly. The prison still isn't completely secure, and I will not use Rune Knight resources for such a thing," he replied, his tone clipped, "and besides, I refuse to be responsible for their deaths."

"You have to do something," Serrill insisted, "You'll be a sitting duck."

"Oh please, we both know it matters not what I do. I invited Father in. It can possess me at will. Suppose I do employ some of our cadets? What will happen when I go into a trance and walk myself out of my home? What will happen when they try to stop me?" Davian replied, his tone as sharp as the point in his words, "Would you forgive me if I tore Ashby apart?"

"If it wasn't your fault." Serrill said without hesitation.

"You and Irena both have the moral backbones of a contortionist troop." Davian hissed, "Perhaps you would not be bothered, but the guilt would crush me."

"Alright," Gajeel said as silence began to settle in once again, "Plan for failure, then."

"Failure isn't an option," Laxus said lowly.

"It is. If Davian is so sure he's gonna end up doin' whatever Father wants, and if we're sure we don't have the guild to fall back on, then plan for it."

"Plan for what? Your death?" Laxus growled, "I refuse."

"Plan to fight our way out alone," Gajeel said, giving him a sharp look, "I've already started. Teaching you how to fight with a knife. I'll start takin' my old job shit with me, what I used to hide on me when I was sure I'd get caught. We know where we'll probably end up, don't we? The temples? Underground, I'm guessin', since that's where Orotrushit cornered me. The edge of the Otherworld, or whatever."

Laxus blinked, dismayed. Gajeel was already thinking so far ahead, considering things Laxus hadn't yet put thought to. Davian, too, seemed impressed.

"Rhuntak ain't on Father's side. I bet he'd help us if he can."

"Rhuntak?" Davian spluttered, "He's Master of the Yaoyo."

"That means he's not affected by Father's hunger, either." Laxus pointed out, "He'll have a harder time possessing him."

"The Call of the Wrathful God is possession?" Serrill asked, tilting his head to the side.

"Yes. And the more they can use Virale, the easier it is for him to take over, manifest, whatever," Laxus said, looking at Davian.

"Every time you zoned out at home and at the prison… it was because Father was possessing you?" Serrill asked, his brow furrowing with his obvious concern, "Your feathers would come out and…"

"I'm afraid so," Davian replied, "I should have realized it sooner, perhaps, but… it was being disconnected from Father that brought it into focus."

That aligned with what Rhuntak had said as well, hadn't it? The reason why he stayed in the forest instead of going to his family? Being controlled against his will. If Father was that powerful, and the stronger the chameleons were with Virale made it easier for It to control them, then that was interesting. Again, Gajeel found himself thinking of Orotrushit and the things he had said. The fact he could see the future. The things he had done.

"It begs the question, don't it? Where you end and Father begins?" Gajeel said slowly, resting his cheek onto his knuckles as he stared over at Davian.

"Well… it's… u-um… I can feel it. The same way you did. There's a presence, and a hunger that attaches itself, and it gets stronger until I just…" he was stabbing at his food with his fork, not looking at anyone. "I can't ignore it."

"Always?" Serrill asked, "You told me once you blacked out mid-conversation with the Colonel… you woke up in the morgue."

"Well… yes. On rare occasion, it just… happens…" he said, his expression darkening, "But there are tells. The nosebleeds. Being hungry after. The feathers… my talons…"

Gajeel narrowed his eyes.

When the hand had appeared from the darkness, the massive form pressing Its weight on Its wounded son, It hadn't been because Orotrushit had summoned It. What was more, he hadn't just been nervous, hadn't just been scared. Terror was as palpable as the ravenous hunger. He'd nearly buckled under Father's weight. He'd begged It to listen, to trust him.

"But It could just possess yer brother? Whenever?" Gajeel asked, meeting Davian's gaze when it swept up to him in alarm.

"He is… far closer to It than I am." Davian said, his words flooding out of him quickly as he tried to explain, "He took the Rite. He can hold the divine. I can't… only for short periods of time. He and I aren't the same."

"Wasn't sayin' you are," Gajeel replied, "Just wonderin' if he'd have the same tells?"

"Does it matter?" he scoffed.

"Maybe."

Davian leaned towards him. His voice was thin, dropping to almost a breath, "He tears people apart for fun, Gajeel."

"That don't mean we can't get him on our side, does it?" Gajeel asked.

"You gotta be kidding," Serrill laughed, "Orotrushit? Didn't you say he made you feel like he was ripping off your skin?"

"He's been trying to drag Davian back to Father. Why would he help us?" Laxus said, shaking his head, "Gajeel..."

"Has he? Really?" Gajeel asked, cocking a brow at him, "I don't think so."

"You're insane," Davian said flatly, "He knew Father was consuming Laxus. He used his impending death to force me back."

"Yeah… and for a guy who can see the future, it sure didn't work out great for him, did it?" Gajeel asked, curling his lip.

"It worked exactly how he wanted!" Davian snapped.

"Laxus was being fed on by Father for months at that point, but when he cornered me in Oragathol'i, he didn't look through my memories to find out when his blood was spilled," Gajeel said, trying hard to keep his tone flat, "Instead, he told me he'd taken Krew."

"Yes, probably so you'd find Erandi beneath the Dreadwood Forest," Davian said, "Chasing after him."

"But why not both? If he could see the future he'd know he needed it. So why not both? Instead, he had to strike a deal with me later. He had to help me," Gajeel said, "Don't make sense, does it?"

"An oversight. He's not perfect. And even still, he wouldn't have needed to if I hadn't accidentally severed the connection-"

"But Laxus was looking for a way to break the covenant while being drained. So it was bound to happen."

"Or not. Perhaps something changed that caused Oros's intervention. Perhaps we got the god's attention when we didn't previously have it. That would be a variable he couldn't account for." Davian argued.

"He's scared of Father, Davian, terrified. He begged for It to pass…"

"We all are!" Davian said, rising to his feet, "You said it yourself, master dragon! How many times have you stared death in the face and yet the presence of Father rendered you immobile from fear? Of course, he is afraid!"

"Fear does not breed loyalty, Davian," Gajeel said between clenched teeth, "I would know."

Davian stared at him in disbelief and then he scoffed, raising a shaking hand to his face, "Orotrushit will not aid us, Gajeel, in this life or any other. His favorite past time is bathing in blood."

"His? Or Father's?"

"You said yourself, Davian, that he has even fewer choices than you do," Laxus said, giving credit to Gajeel's theory, "Because he chose his path already."

"You can't be serious…" Davian breathed.

"He's not totally evil. He's taking steps to protect your people… for something that's coming in the future," Laxus said, his tone pragmatic and stern, "He had a vision that something will set fire to the compound. He employed a water demon to stop it."

"Probably because he must! Father must have a flock to maintain worship! And we are Oros's children…"

"To be clear, I ain't sayin' he'll help us." Gajeel said, and the three stared at him once more, "I think he has his own motives aside Father's. I think he'll help himself. We need him to need us to do that."

"This is insanity," Davian hissed, "His motives are Father's. He is God's Hunger, the manifestation of God's Will. It was what he was born for. Just as I was born to be the Wrath of God. He embraced his birthright, I did not. That is all."

"Yer all fuckin' dense. You wanna know the smart thing to do? After he told me what I needed to know, when he had me on the ground, in pain, out of magic, he shoulda kept me there! None of you knew where the hell I was. Laxus would have come home and had no idea I was even there. But he let me go, didn't he?" Gajeel snarled, "And you, they need you for the ritual and yet he let you walk away. When Father could just possess you for long enough to trap you somewhere, instead he let you just walk away. How does any of that make sense?"

"Do I know the will of the divine?" Davian bared his teeth, "Obviously, it is for some reason we don't yet know but will swiftly be revealed to us, and in the worse way possible."

"Fine, whatever," Gajeel growled, pointing his finger at Davian angrily and making him flinch, "But you fuckin' mark me. The smart thing ta do, the tactical thing, would be ta wait until the last minute ta drag me to that fuckin' temple. Kill me before Laxus has a chance ta save me. But I bet that ain't gonna happen. No, he's gonna come after Irena and he's gonna come after Laxus, and make you and me come to him. Plenty of time for either of us to get help, to not come alone."

"To what end?" Davian said, imploringly.

"Who the hell knows?" Gajeel yelled, also coming to his feet, "But I know a hidden agenda when I see one. I don't know what it is, but I know it involves you. Even if there's a fraction of a chance he could turn-"

"He is beyond help, Gajeel!" Davian shouted him down, bristling despite the sorrow twisting into his words, "He hates me for leaving him behind, for coming here. I know my brother and I know there is nothing left of him that isn't cruel and out for blood."

Gajeel glared at him, "You said I was beyond help, too."

"Yes, yes, but you are the exception, not the rule," Davian breathed. A miserable smile tugged at his lips, "It is foolish… to hope for such things."

The two stared each other down for a long, dreadful moment before Gajeel broke it. He looked down to Laxus, placed a hand on his. He wasn't angry, but his eyes were searching down into Laxus's, ardent and deploring for his understanding.

"I've been right, haven't I? Since the beginning? I told you someone was after me. I told you someone else was there. I found Kahli. I knew something was wrong with Ezal, that something was wrong with you. I know what I'm talkin' about."

"Y-Yes…" Laxus admitted quietly.

"If he doesn't take my advice, you do. If I'm right, and he comes for you instead, he'll take your magic away and he'll keep you in pain. He said so, that he knows it leaves you at a disadvantage," Gajeel said, revealing his teeth as he spoke, "Use him to stay alive. I don't care how."

Laxus didn't know what to say, but when Gajeel spoke something deep inside of him flared. It tasted like metal and threaded through his veins. There was a pulse pushing his to a fever pitch, reminding him of the promise he'd made. Glittering emerald sparked and vanished in Gajeel's eyes, calling something just as metallic and green as Gajeel's magic inside of him. In that instant, he would have moved heaven and earth for him, done anything for him, even extend a hand to Orotrushit. Maybe Gajeel saw it, because something like a satisfied smile twitched at the corner of his mouth and died.

"You really are in trouble, aren't you?" Angel was in the doorway again, arms crossed and head thrown back as if he were prepared to break up a fight, "My sincerest apologies. I try not to pry but raised voices get my attention. Especially on this floor."

"I told you we wouldn't be trouble, Angel," Gajeel said, his voice barely concealing his agitation.

"I know, but you can't fault me for being cautious, my good lad. At any rate, I solved your little riddle," he smiled, pulling a kerchief from his sleeve and throwing back his jacket, revealing a weapon on his hip. He freed the six-shooter from its holster, gripping it with kerchief in hand as he approached from across the room. Gingerly, he sat it on the table, "My younger brother became a deal-maker. Not my cup of tea, personally, though I have tried my hand. Ah, but I am not a gambling man and the stakes are much too high for me. I prefer much more reliable investments."

Darkness tugged at his features, deepening shadows around him that contorted his face into something devious and grotesque.

"Do you know what this is?" he asked.

"A possessed weapon," Gajeel replied steadily.

"A lovely gift. Produces bullets of fire… at the sacrifice of the user's humanity, so it does keep me honest. Just like any firearm, it needs maintenance. It has to be cleaned, oiled, and even on occasion, the parts must be replaced," as he spoke, he opened the fully loaded chamber and revealed an inscription inside, "but you see, the soul is bound to the metal. I could melt it down and turn it into something else, a knife, perhaps, and the soul would not die, simply be transferred. It isn't alive, you see?"

"Uh… huh…" Gajeel said, not really sure what he was getting at.

"Perhaps I'm being too vague," he chuckled, snapping the chamber back into place and spinning it before slipping it back into its holster, "You want to kill the numen? Put it in a body that can be killed, and then simply do what you're so good at. What's that saying again? Get them in the neck."

He smiled, and it was nothing short of oily. Standing at the end of the table, he didn't look like the owner of a restaurant. He looked like a yakuza whose bloodline was kissed by something in eons passed, a creature that ate dreams and prowled in nightmares. His eyes swept to each of them in turn before falling on Gajeel once again, his neutral, customer service charm never diminishing.

"My brother likes to go big game hunting in his past time… just be sure to wear something you don't mind getting ruined. Bloodstains are such a pain to get out," he clapped his hands together and every shadow twisting across him vanished, "Now, would you like any refills? Or shall I get you the bill?"

Author's Notes:

I rewrote this chapter 3 times so if I said something twice, it's because I got confused haha My doc of cut snippets got a hellofuh lot longer while trying to write this, lemme tell ya.

Fun dialogue I had to cut because conversation wouldn't allow:

"Maybe I should stop carrying my knife." Gajeel sighed aloud.

"What would you use to protect yourself when Davian's brother takes your magic away?" Laxus snapped.

"My whole body is a weapon, fairy. Just because I prefer a knife doesn't mean I need one."

"Has anyone ever told you you're one scary motherfucker?" Serrill said nervously, "Seriously, who says shit like that?"

"It's the truth. I can kill someone with a metal cord just as quick," Gajeel tipped his head back to meet his gaze. He dared a roguish grin, "That's a yakuza technique."

"Oh, but it's so messy," Dorian's voice cut the tension, "It absolutely ruins upholstery... and carpets. And it's hardly subtle."

~

"I thought you told me you were straight?" Dorian asked.

"We're just talkin' self-defense, Angel." Gajeel replied smoothly.

"Self-defense…" he hummed, inclining his head towards Davian and Serrill, his eyes running over their sabres that were on full display, "Well, who am I to judge, really?"

When he left, Gajeel noticed Laxus holding in his laughter. He gave him a critical look and the blonde grinned.

"I mean... are you straight? I thought you were bisexual, at least."

"I'm not in the business anymore." Gajeel smirked back, not wanting to ruin his mood again. "You think yer funny, don't cha?"

"A little," he chuckled into his glass as he walked himself to the table.

~

"And then the rains came..." Laxus said, shooting Gajeel a suspicious look. A wry smile tugged at the corner of his lip, "Should we be thanking you for our bountiful crops, oh, sex-addict?"