Chapter 2: Guiding Hands Grasping a Flame
"I will be sure to report these happenings to the Council, Saint Dreyer. Do remember, despite your titles and honors, Fairy Tail still resides underneath the Magic Council's authority. Should you be found disloyal to the peace the Magic Council strives for, even one of the Ten isn't untouchable." Lahar spoke with the same rigidity that always came from him, one that Makarov would consider himself far too familiar with. The guildmaster didn't doubt that Lahar was a good man, one with an honor that he feels is utilized best in the ranks of the Magic Council, but Makarov could doubt the man's abilities in perception. Maybe, at one point, Lahar would be fighting for an altruistic cause of peace throughout Fiore, but that day is not this day.
Makarov was many decades removed from being a young man. When he was a young man, the Magic Council was still on its infantile legs as a group of upstarts who wanted to put an end to the chaos that once ruled the land. When mage guilds were initially introduced, there was no governing body for them. The Kingdom of Fiore had its king, but a king that was magicless and therefore ruled only the magicless. Organizations of magic users were beyond the law as it were, and therefore they ruled themselves. Wars brewed constantly, guilds fighting other guilds for dominance and petty squabbles while the land was terrorized around them. Only when a number of guilds backed the cause of creating an authority to preside over these guilds did the Magic Council get their start. Eventually, without bloodless efforts, the Magic Council did reign in the chaos and birthed an era of guilds of light and the inevitable dark guilds that disobeyed the laws established by the Council. If only it could have ended there. Once they found power, it seemed that this newfound balance in the world simply wasn't enough for those that ruled. Slowly but surely, Makarov watched the Council shift from a tool of necessity to sidling beside the throne of the King as an equal. Hungry with power, riddled with corruption, the Council was far down on the list of things Makarov was willing to put his trust in.
It was that fact that fed into his abrupt acceptance of the pink-haired mage into Fairy Tail. There wasn't a riddle that needed to be solved when the guildmaster saw the eruption of crimson flames bathe the form of Lullaby. Truthfully, the interruption wasn't necessary. Makarov was sure that his mages that showed up to deal with the demon were up to the task, and should something go awry, the company Makarov was surrounded by could pick up any slack if need be. He came to Clover for a guildmaster's meeting, to discuss the happenings of the world and the awakening disturbances around their kingdom, and one didn't become a guildmaster without cause. Still, it was quite the sight to see a demon from the Books of Zeref be turned into ash in a single moment. It was a sight seeing the Wandering Demon of Fiore show itself at this particular moment.
Too much coincidence found Makarov, and he couldn't let it go.
Furthermore, Makarov didn't like the Rune Knight captain's insistence on arresting the boy without a care of Lullaby's removal. The demon had been stolen from the Magic Council's own vault, unsealed by a dark guild, and then let loose upon the land with its death magic tainting the air, but all that was asked for was the notorious Akuma. By law, despite the legends of destruction and chaos the boy wreaked on dark guilds and dark mages, he was no criminal. Dark guilds weren't protected by the Magic Council's laws, and yet he was to be arrested anyway. Looking at the boy, Makarov knew that he couldn't be a year older than twenty and likely even younger. He was a boy. Yet, he's been a rumor whispered in bars and alleys for years already. A boy that found himself on a path of chaos without anyone to guide him, and yet they would see him in a cell and chained as they would a wild animal. No. Makarov wouldn't allow it. With luck, and the fact that the boy held more than flames between his ears, Makarov was able to set the boy right.
The Fairy Tail guildmaster let the Rune Knights and their captain evacuate the clearing that once held the guildmaster's meeting hall without a word to Lahar or the rest of the men that sent their glares evenly between his mages and the new recruit. Soon, the Fairy Tail mages, Natsu, and Makarov stood alone near the cinders of the meeting hall as the other guildmasters looked on with murmurs freely passing between them. A tension flowed from his mages, namely Gray, Erza, and Mirajane, toward Natsu. Lucy, wielding the inexperience of a rookie recruit, still found herself lost in the intricacies of a world she was unfamiliar with, but that would be fixed in time. Right now, Makarov was more focused on ensuring there was no battling to be had. Any misstep might see the boy running off for the sake of self-preservation and leaving him vulnerable to be taken by the Council and Makarov questioned for deceiving the Rune Knight captain. When he spoke, Makarov's body was fully turned to face the clearly uneasy Natsu, yet it was his own mages that he addressed.
"Erza, lower the sword. Grey, find your shirt for all of our sakes. Lucy, calm yourself. All is fine now. Mira, how is your wrist?" He went down the list with well-practiced motions, pleased as he heard the clanking of Erza's plate armor brought to rest, Grey's scrambling to find the shirt he himself discarded, and Mira's groan in annoyance.
"It hurts." Mira bit through clenched teeth, pain and anger becoming quite the hindrance to her self-control. Makarov didn't need to turn to her to see the figurative flames crackle in her blue eyes, but he kept his eyes on Natsu all the same. It was rare to see Mira injured in any fashion, she was a senior mage of the guild after all, and especially not when the magic was centered on her transformed body parts. Yet, the pain was clearly displayed by the woman all the same. Had he not seen the flames himself already, Makarov would be informed by Mira's answer alone to know that Natsu's magic was something else. Something unique. A question left for another time, however.
"We'll have Porlyusica look at it once we get back to the guild. For now, we return to Oshibana. In the morning we will make for Magnolia, there we can talk about things more plainly with more privacy." He turned from his mages and took his relatively shallow strides back toward his fellow guildmasters that appeared to lose interest in the drama before them to focus more on the destruction that was the remains of their meeting hall. In Makarov's mind, the hall was destroyed the moment Lullaby was summoned. Had it not been Natsu, he was sure that his mages would have done something drastic to see it in ruins nonetheless. His guild had developed a reputation long before Makarov took his place as Fairy Tail's third master and it was one that continued to be well-deserved.
Coming to a stop before them all, a few more than two dozen eyes focused on Makarov's small stature but none could be said to be truly looking down upon him. He was the second eldest master that came to the meeting and the only one who was a distinguished member of the Ten Wizards Saints of Fiore, recognized by the Magic Council as one of the ten strongest mages in the country. Was he truly worthy of belonging on such a list? It was impossible to know, but Makarov knew that the true weight of the title was the honor of recognition more than anything else. The medallion on his chest proved more than any words from an old man could, and it was what had some of the most respected guildmasters looking to him for his word on the situation.
"I apologize, my friends. This night wasn't supposed to end so chaotically, but that is the nature of our world, is it not?" An easy chuckle fell from his lips and was matched by the masters before him, none of them carrying any true humor. Random attacks such as this were why they decided to meet in the first place. The growing boldness of dark mages, their guilds, and the nature of their deeds did not sit well with any of them. Yet, despite the nature of their gathering, many masters from prolific guilds were absent this day. Another cause for concern if one were to ask Makarov's opinion, but that's a separate matter. "I will ensure that our hall gets reconstructed before our next meeting."
Perhaps, in a different environment, there would have been more questions needing to be asked and answered. Who is the boy? What did the Council want? What of Lullaby? All were necessary questions that would go unanswered this day. A glance to two of the masters around him began a sound of agreement to Makarov's words that would leave all else alone, for now.
"There's a lot to consider from our meeting and of after. I think we should all sleep on it for a while before we get back together." A tall, thin man with an aging face framed with dulling light brown hair initiated the response to Makarov's words right on que. The circular brimmed pointed hat that sat atop his head was adjusted with thin fingers, the ring of spikes just above the brim that matched the choker on the man's neck gleaming in the light, before settling in a fold over the man's black clothed chest. Goldmine was a man Makarov knew from his more formidable years when his team was all still a part of Fairy Tail. They knew each other long enough for Goldmine to know Makarov's message despite the dark lenses that separated their glances.
"Ho ho, sleep on it, indeed. I am just about tuckered out with all of this drama and action in one day." Guildmaster Bob took Makarov's message just as easily as Goldmine had, despite the stark differences in approach. A thick, meaty hand that glinted in the early evening sun dramatically fanned a face that was painted of make up and absent of all hair. The round body of the man that only stood a foot and a half taller than Makarov himself jiggled in his swaying, taking the pink dress he wore and the fake feathered on the man's back with him as he did so. An eccentric man, Bob was, but that didn't make him any less formidable than the masters he stood with. Three voices speaking the same message were quickly followed by more grumbling that all spoke in agreement.
"Very well, if we are all in agreement, I will see you all in our next meeting. Or, I should hope that I do." With a respectful bow of his head toward his fellow guildmasters, Makarov began walking toward, and down, the path that led to their meeting hall. The hall was constructed on the outskirts of the town of Clover. It wasn't a grand town, nor was it a particularly bustling hub, but rather a calm place that was built just on the edge of a stony ravine that was cut deeply through the eastern part of Fiore. Although they weren't able to talk too deeply before Lullaby made its appearance, Makarov was able to gather from his mages that the trains won't be running from the west to Clover, given the track that ran along the only crossing for miles on end has been destroyed. That meant that they would have to trek to Oshibana before they considered riding a train back to Magnolia. Light still showed in the waning day, meaning that it wasn't quite over.
Hours passed, for it wasn't a swift path back to Oshibana. Many miles were walked, and the bulk of it was in a tense silence. Truly, nothing else was expected. Not in Makarov's mind. Erza was too rigid to accept a newcomer like Natsu so forwardly, Mira was easy to hold a grudge, Gray tended to follow their leads in such situations, and Lucy had yet to find her voice in the guild to break any silences so strongly forged. Only a few days into her tenure as a Fairy Tail mage, Lucy was seeing a whole array of new things she hadn't expected when she was but a civilian and Makarov was glad the experience was gained, but this was a tricky situation to navigate even for him. He never peered behind himself, only standing to the side as Gray constructed an icy path to link one side of the canyon crossing to the other as they passed the carnage of earlier in the day, but Makarov knew that Natsu had yet to take his gaze away from his back this whole time. The boy was searching for something, but it was anyone's guess what it was. Surely, if he meant to leave then an escape would have already been attempted, but the fire mage still followed along at the rear of the Fairy Tail mages. Countless glares and nonverbal jawing surely passed behind Makarov, but there wasn't a moment that he felt the need to address it. Peace, as fragile as it was, remained intact and Makarov couldn't quite discern why.
There have been countless children, those half the age of the pink-haired boy, that stumbled into the guildhall to find a place to call home. The same could be said of those that Makarov chanced to run into during his travels. Ultimately, some were able to integrate into the culture that has been built within the guild that stood for over a century while others simply couldn't. At Natsu's age, Makarov would be safe in assuming that the boy was too set in his ways to fully adapt to the way of Fairy Tail, especially when taking reputation into account. Yet, there was none of the wild beast that the Akuma was rumored to be in the boy that almost silently skulked behind them all. Curious.
Makarov's pondering continued in relative silence all the way to Oshibana, their arrival coming in the shadow of nighttime. The town itself was formidable, even with the damage that was wrought within it through the day. Buildings were packed together tightly, with only narrow alleyways to separate the blocks and small streets between storefronts once one branched from the main road. Most buildings extended four, five, six, and many more stories high with bright light and joyful raucous coming from the windows on each level. Naturally, as one drew closer to the heart of the town, the buildings got larger and the crowds denser, even if those crowds were mingling closer to the artificial lights of the establishments due to the late hour. Damage could still be seen from his mages' run through the town earlier in the day. The train station was missing its eastern wall, the main road was filled with gaping potholes around the station, and nearby buildings lost chunks of roof, wall, or both. Debris that once lay in the street was kicked to the edges, sheets of fabric were draped over broken windows, and makeshift tables of stone replaced the wooden ones that were only splinters now. Makarov admired the resilience, but also reminded himself of the nature of their world these days. A strong mind and a short memory will be necessary in getting through the darkness that looms. Dwelling in tragedy would only breed further despair.
Eisenwald, the dark guild that incited this mess, massacred the working body of the train station once they procured the tome of Lullaby. Undoubtedly, families and friends would be grieving the senseless loss. One might expect that it was only right to see moping faces as Makarov led his mages to a humble inn that he frequented countless times in his day, but everyone around and within the Withered Petal were smiling at one another easily as they greeted the passing strangers. No one was shut inside, taking their mourning in solitude, but rather everyone chose to smile instead. That was something that Makarov could be proud of, especially knowing that it was his children that chased Eisenwald down on their own volition to reach this conclusion.
When he entered the inn, Makarov was met with the familiar sight of tables, chairs, and merry bodies that littered the ground floor. Beds and bunks were arrayed in many different fashions in the four floors that sat above them, but this floor was reserved for eating and laughing. Short legs walked confidently to the vacant table near the center of the room, skewed just left, with six chairs haphazardly left behind around the table's circular edge. Aside from some miscellaneous litter here and there, the tabletop was relatively clean and was a perfect place to stop for a meal. Without a word or question, his mages fell behind him to take their seats. A hard look was required to prevent Erza from sitting herself directly beside Natsu as they took their seats. Had he left room for argument in their eye contact, she may have tried to justify it as a need to make sure he didn't start trouble, but Makarov wouldn't hear it. His goal was to see Natsu in Magnolia, after that all would sort itself out.
Erza and Mira, the pair he was most worried about, took the guildmaster's hints and sat themselves beside him while the more manageable pair found themselves sitting on either side of their newest recruit. Granted, there was a sizable gap on either side of the boy, leaving it to appear that Natsu sat alone, but that was of no matter. Before any words could be said, in one form or another, the familiar voice of a woman that Makarov always pictured many years younger cut through with a bright enthusiasm.
"What will you all be having today, Makarov sir?" He turned to see the bright green eyes that he saw as a toddler when he first stayed at this inn. In that toddler's place was a woman in her thirties that now likely had a toddler of her own. A modest and faded green dress bore stains and holes from her labor, her hair was wound tightly to be hidden behind the purple cloth wrapped around her head with only a tail of brown poking out of the end of it. A warm smile was met with a matching one upon Makarov's face.
"The same as I always get, Mel, just with five others along with it, if you can spare it." With a playful bow and a smile, Melisandra went about her business to get them their food as Makarov turned toward the boy that sat across from him. Shoulders hunched forward, letting the tattered brown cloak to cover the bare torso underneath from most around them with either cloth or shadow, but it was a glimmer within the shade that caught Makrov's eye. Peculiar. He had seen it earlier, but made nothing of it as more important matters were at hand. A fighter that fought dark mages all across the land wore a silver locket that went untouched and unscarred. Not only that, but even with the singed holes in the cloak, the jagged tears, and the crisp slices that tore up the brown fabric, the flesh, too, was wholly untouched by damage. Not a scar to be seen upon the skin or a scratch to be found on the glimmering locket.
"Where are you from, Natsu?" He'd start light. What use would it do him to grill the boy immediately upon sitting down? Even with such a harmless question, one that could be answered as vaguely as one needed to keep their privacy, Natsu's brow furrowed as dark eyes met Makarov's wizened gaze. There was steel in the boy's gaze, one that hid much without giving away a shred of it. Not even a location.
"Master asked you a question. You will answer him." As gracefully as ever, Erza interjected with a cool, even voice that cut as sharp as the blades she preferred so much. One of his small hands found its rest on the girl's left shoulder plate, halting the fire that was found to follow the relatively calm command.
"There's no need for that, Erza. He can reveal as much or as little as he pleases. I am only a curious old man, not his interrogator." A soft chuckle left his throat as he felt Erza force herself to relax under his delicate hand. Surprisingly, however, Mira remained silent on Makarov's opposite side. Makarov could see the veiled curiosity behind a stony demeanor, one that Mirajane had mastered long ago in her childish goal of intimidating everyone she could within the guild once she joined it. Behind it, Makarov knew that the girl was just as curious of Natsu as he was, even though it was rage that he expected. Wrinkled, blistered, angry red skin covered Mira's right wrist where Natsu grabbed her. He was sure it was painful, as burns tended to be, but whatever had caught the woman's interest let that pain fall to the wayside as their table became a gap in silence amongst the joyousness around them.
"The woods." The response was greeted with raised eyebrows on either side of Natsu and a scoff on either side of Makarov. Perhaps the guildmaster would have shown his own amusement at the answer, but the seriousness on Natsu's face was unmistakable. Even if the opportunity was there, the boy wasn't intentionally hiding where he came from, at least not from Makarov's view of things.
"Which woods would those be, my boy? I'm sure you know how much of our land is covered in them." His question came as an unintentional transition into their food being splayed before them by Mel and left to their own devices without further fare. If Natsu was going to further explain Makarov's following question, the opportunity was lost as the boy's attention was drawn to the giant slab of red meat that was plated with an array of vegetables. It took no time for food to be tossed into the air from both Gray and Mira violently digging into their plates with ravenous intent.
"Seriously, you two? Keep your food to yourselves!" Erza immediately interjected the poor manners with a cutting slash of her hand that was filled with a fork already stabbed into the cut of meat, unintentionally adding a mess of her own vegetables to the edible debris. A squeak from Lucy as her top got plastered in the food of three people before she could even begin to dig into her own food. Makarov couldn't tamp down the smile that grew at both the well-walked joys of his guild's rapport as well as the utter confusion on Natsu's face. Silence was replaced by well-meaning bickering and mess that flew one direction or another that seamlessly fit in with the other patrons of the inn.
When all was said and done, when the Fairy Tail mages were finished with their food and squabbling, there were only three rooms left in the inn for the six of them. Simple math would have dictated that there should be two to each room, but the Fairy Tail guildmaster was above such things. As he gave Mel the jewel for their rooms, and took a key for himself, it was established early that the elderly man would be bedding in his own room while he left the children to figure their accommodations out themselves. Should he have made it a point to order their rooms for them, with the addition of Natsu in the group? Maybe there would be some logic to it, but Makarov wouldn't partake in such heavy handedness. No, this intermission before they reached Magnolia was a time of learning in whatever way that meant.
The room itself was nothing to fawn over, nor was it particularly shabby. Two full sized beds lay near each other on the east wall, a chair in the furthest corner on the same side, and a sofa occupied a significant portion of the opposite wall with a coffee table at the center of it all. Fabrics of the bedding, sofa, and drapery were all worn, but not quite ragged. The smell wasn't fresh, but nor was it particularly foul. It was serviceable, which was all Makarov ever expected from such places. Too much glamor stole the soul of the room, too little care became a chore to stay in, but this felt right. As Makarov discarded his shoes, shucked off his cloak, and peeled off the layers of cloth until he was resting within the sheets of the bed in only his undergarments, sleep chased his every step until it finally dragged him into a comfortable darkness.
Old men carried old burdens. Old burdens often chose times of sleep to rear their ugly heads and haunt old men into restless sleeps. None such issues badgered Makarov that night. Instead, it was his waking morning that was fraught with conflict that began with a rough pounding at his own door. Three harsh knocks of old, aged wood drew the silent laying Makrov into a groaning rise. The light that snuck at the edges of his room's drapes showed it to be no later than six, far too early for far too much ruckus. Another triplet of knocks came before the old man could shove a leg into his pants, then another as his shirt slid on, and finally once more once shoes were tied and his cloak was tightened. Some may have already tried to ask who it was that disturbed them and everyone else on their floor, but the old guildmaster knew. The clanking metal against the old wood was recognizable anywhere, too recognizable to not expect the brown eye that poked through red hair that poured over the second as it fell over her shoulders. Erza's face looked as unyielding as the plated armor that covered her upper body with eyes as sharp as the sword in its sheath at her hip.
"He's gone." She said simply. Monotonous to the untrained ear, simply wroth to Makarov's practiced one. It seemed she already checked the room where Natsu was staying, with ill results to be found apparently. He only gave a shallow nod as the short man pushed past his mage and walked down the hall with stunted strides.
"What will Mel and her mother have cooked up for breakfast, I wonder? Hopefully we are not too early for them,I expect they had a late night last night." The soles of his shoes thumped against the groaning wooden stairs that surrounded both he and Erza as they descended toward the ground floor. Makarov wasn't ignorant to the less than subtle growl that came from behind him. Erza was trying her best to restrain her temper in Makarov's presence. It was a noble attempt, all things considered, but they both knew that the string was drawing closer and closer to its end.
"Did you not hear me, master? He is gone. He has run. He has made you a liar to the Magic Council and dishonored your kindness. Let me look for him." Rigid words grew in their aggression as she spoke. The final steps of the stairwell came to an end on the floor of the dining hall of the inn, showing a silent room not yet risen from the night's fun into the morning's beginning without a breakfast to calm the stormy emotions around them. Instead, only the three remaining Fairy Tail wizards awaited with various levels of fatigue and irritation across all of their faces. Gray, who idly fiddled with the buttons of his white button up shirt, looked the most notably flustered of this morning's news, nix Erza herself. If Makarov were a betting man, which he was, he'd put his money on the assumption that it was Gray who roomed with their newest recruit, and thus looked at first and foremost for Natsu's location.
"Well, the day is getting no younger. Let us return home and see what will be done in the wake of Lullaby's slaying." Without another moment to spare, Makarov walked toward the inn's entrance. Curious gazes littered the side of his head but were paid no mind. This was always the folly of youth. There was too much stock put in the issues closest to their faces, when it usually was the more subtle disturbances that required the keenest eye. They were sore over a boy they met the night before, a boy that has made a reputation from his own ferocity, not wishing to stay in a guild he had little choice in joining given the circumstances. A demon of the Books of Zeref was both smuggled from the Council's vault and summoned without so much as an explanation from the Rune Knight Captain. All they cared for was the identity of the boy that slayed the demon. In his personal opinion, Makarov was more concerned about that fact than Natsu's whereabouts.
"Master, we can't just let someone like that–!?" Erza called behind Makarov as the door was pushed open to a narrow street that was only a couple blocks removed from the heart of Oshibana, one that was almost entirely empty. Vendors had yet to open stores and carts with their wares, diners and bakeries still waiting to heat their ovens, and only silence stood in their wake. The events of the day before carried over to hang on tightly to the morning, but there was one body that stood out amongst the nothing. Eyes betrayed nothing as they gazed above Makarov's head to the woman who cut herself off at the sight of him.
Makarov couldn't help the curling of the corners of his lips as he looked at the boy, but restrained himself as he strode forward to the train station. He could revel in the chance Natsu was providing him, a chance to help him onto a brighter path, but first they needed to get to Magnolia. Erza began her questioning just as Makarov passed the boy, wheres, whys, and hows were thrown into the wind but met with silence. The padding of bare feet on the cobbled road showed how little the boy cared for Erza's protests, only furthering her frustration. It would be interesting, seeing Natsu's integration into Fairy Tail. So many dynamics that had been set for years would be upturned simply by the boy's presence. It was a rare sight to see someone stray from Erza's need for order and compliance, shy away from Mira's outright aggression, or evade Gray's need for a good brawl, even if most of which was unseen for the time being.
The weight that settled between them all continued even as they packed themselves into an empty train car that traveled westward. Natsu's presence made the normally talkative wizards prefer suspicious glares from Erza, uneasy glances from Lucy, light sizing up from Gray, and raw curiosity from Mira who fiddled with the bandages that sat over her undoubtedly ailing wrist. Makarov still held himself from speaking to the boy that isolated himself across the aisle into his own booth as he tried to find comfort on the train that the guildmaster was sure to be his first ride upon. Only when the sun stood brightly above the horizon in its mid-morning rise and the train was stopped in the bustling station of Magnolia did Makarov finally address the boy as he stared wide eyed and wholly uncomfortable amongst the crowd of clamoring pedestrians.
"While they return to the guild, we have business to take care of, my boy. Come." Whether it was because of his small stature or his notoriety within the town, the crowd seemed to bend out of the guildmaster's way as they continued to swim over each other. The arguments from Erza to his plans were drowned in the noise around him, and soon Makarov found himself walking alone toward the unofficial shopping district of the town.
While Oshibana was dense and sizable, neither of those words were spoken in the same magnitudes when spoken of Magnolia. Although it didn't stand on the coast of a sea, the town was essentially a trading port from the tributary waters of the lake the town sat upon and the rivers that crawled through the town, both coming directly from the sea to the south. Buildings hugged each other on either side of the road, crawling alongside forking streams as it continued to expand further and further outward. Each of these buildings stood tall with establishments opening atop other establishments for the sake of spatial efficiency, but there were two structures that stood above them all. One, which shadowed over all those close to it at the heart of the town, was Kardia Cathedral, a grand display of architecture with pointed towers that surrounded a vaulted roof. The second building that took precedence over the others that stood next to it was Fairy Tail's own guildhall that sat only a few hundred feet removed from the shores of Lake Scilliora behind it, its stacked levels condensing as it grew before coming to a point with the belltower at its top. Even from the other side of the town at his stunted height, he could see the waving of his guild's crest that proudly flew above his hall.
Despite the grand sights that surrounded them, sights that would impress any newcomer, Makarov had a feeling that the majesty was lost on his audience. Glancing up to his right, Makarov could see the darting eyes that tried to catch every passing body and every associated article of those bodies. Possible threats were determined and evaluated as fast as one could accomplish and it made even Makarov sigh in fatigue merely watching. It didn't take vast knowledge of the boy to know that he was unused to crowds, or how to handle them, but there was little Makarov could do for the boy. Only willing exposure can be followed by adaptation.
"If it helps, there is no one here that would see ill done onto you. All these fine people are civilians. None of them know more than the superficial of our world, much less of the world you dwell in." It was impossible to tell if his words did what he intended them to do, but Natsu at least nodded to show that he heard. Nothing further was said as Makarov continued cutting through the mass of bodies that all towered above him. The berth granted to him by the crowd was not as easily passed onto Natsu, forcing the boy to shift, turn, and slide through the bodies of commuting civilians in an effort to keep pace with him. Not needing to watch the path ahead of him, knowing the ins and outs of the port town more so than the mayor himself, Makarov kept his attention on the mage he brought along with him. Feet danced weightlessly on the cobbled paths they walked through as he evaded contact with those around them as if they were hotter than the very flames he used.
It was hard to equate this young man, this boy, with the stories that followed the Wandering Demon of Fiore. Where the Akuma was a force of nature that would blow through a town, level it into a pile of burning ashes, and leave without so much as a glance behind him, Natsu seemed to be a boy that was more akin to a stray pup. Sure, there were fangs hiding behind snarled lips, but the snarl was more for its own sake. Take away the tattered clothes, the dirt and grime that clung to his form, and the wild hair that went every which way in an untamed mess of spikes and there was only a scared child. At least, that's what Makarov wanted to see. That's what he hoped he was seeing. His eyes were old, too old, and far from infallible.
The trek was no longer than a few minutes. Crossing a bridge that carried them over gently running water and taking a few quick turns down equally busy roads brought them to an establishment that Makarov has been more than familiar with over his years. Granted, that didn't mean he knew the ins and outs of what was popular, or even generally accepted, but the guildmaster knew this would be the place to go to bring Natsu a step in the proper direction. Passing through a low overhang with draperies of red and purple flowing down the sides, Makarov was faced with clusters and lines of hanging clothes, mostly the bottom halves. Stretching through the open store space, and crawling up its walls, was the end-all-be-all of clothes that circulated through Magnolia. To his right stood an elderly woman that leaned heavily on the counter with a bored expression on a wrinkled face as dark eyes peered through half-fallen eyelids. Never one for a grand greeting, the woman simply raised an eyebrow as she caught sight of the guildmaster before her gaze lazily trailed off to Natsu who had yet to fully cross into the store's threshold.
"What's the clean-up project today, Dreyer? Some bum you found in an alley? Maybe a hooligan that's been mucking up my decorations?" The woman was droll in tone but harsh in words, as always. As much as he wanted to show his annoyance at her attitude, Makarov was too busy trying to control his amusement in an effort to not encourage the behavior with his own giggles.
"No hooligans this time, Sybil. This is a new member of my guild that I need better… acclimated to things around here. Preferably starting with a fine set of clothes." He tried to explain it in a way that would keep both Sybil calmed enough to not spout off on a rant before they got started and to keep Natsu in the loop without blindly dragging him to this place and that. There were no rants, luckily, but there was a scoff that quickly shot from curled lips as Sybil moved off her counter and grumbled her way through her lines of clothing.
"If they're with you they're hooligans all the same, foolish old man." The words continued on as she flitted through the lines of clothes and stepped into a back room, leaving Makarov and Natsu alone at the front of the store. The guildmaster gave a reassuring smile at the confused gaze sent down at him, but it seemed to do little in calming the boy's nerves. When Sybil came strutting back out, all she returned with was a clipboard and pencil as she looked down at Makarov expectantly. "Well? What will it be, Dreyer?"
Over the years, there have been more than a few he brought here to give new recruits, generally those still too young to be independent in day-to-day life, a new set of clothes that they could wear without having to cling to the rags they came to him in. What Natsu wore were less than rags. What were likely once a pair of decent pants were ripped and torn in more places than not, with the bottom half of the lower legs no longer covered by fabric. There was no shirt covering the boy's torso, only a locket that glimmered in the light that peaked through the tattered cloak that also bore more than its fair share of cuts and holes throughout. Makarov couldn't even tell Sybil to play it safe by finding something near to what Natsu already had, as there was nothing there to play with. Instead, Makarov looked to Natsu and took a breath, knowing this would likely be a painfully slow affair.
"So, my boy, see anything you like?" He kept his voice light, especially compared to the scoff and frantic scribblings on a piece of paper, but the lightness didn't prevent Natsu's eyebrows from shooting up or his eyes from widening as his gaze fell to the library of fabrics and styles. It took a few moments, along with some supplementary words of encouragement, but Natsu was soon scoping through the mass of clothes with the same sharp eye he held to civilians they passed on the way here. He scanned as many articles of clothing as quickly as possible, analyzing whatever his mind figured to be important or otherwise unnecessary before moving on quickly. Makarov was sure that the entire store would be turned over by the boy without so much as a word of interest from Natsu, with the dead air being filled with a chorus of scoffing and complaining from Sybil, only for the boy to halt entirely. Natsu's body had gone rigid when he saw something that was hidden from Makarov behind a particularly audacious coat with many feathers and bright colors. Suddenly, the boy's head snapped around and he marched through the store with a sudden burst of inspiration. Looking up to Sybil, Makarov's eyes met a gaze that had taken a small gleam of curiosity as her eyes followed Natsu's movements.
When all was gathered, Makarov could only stare at the clothes with open curiosity. It was specific, he knew that much. There was something that Natsu saw in this that Makarov couldn't hope to understand, but that didn't fix the list of questions that ran through his mind. They were questions he was usually more than willing to ask, but after the boy's terse response of where he came from, the guildmaster had a sneaking suspicion it wouldn't be so easy. Instead, he simply gazed at the clothes that went through the routine enchantments that most mages bore to keep their wallets and dignities in hand once magic started getting thrown around, with an extra emphasis on fire. A garnet colored shirt with subtle golden designs running along the shallow V-neck stretched tall off the wall it was mounted upon, billowing in the breeze coming from the front of the store. The shirt's sleeves were no more than a hang of fabric that would attempt to cover one's shoulders, with little success. Loose, airy pants hung beside the long shirt as a pair of high ankle sandals were placed under the pant legs, for the effect Makarov would assume. Neither articles of clothing were particularly notable. Some would probably say that they were more plain than anything, especially compared to the sights one could see in the capital with their pageantry, but it was the final piece of fabric that made Makarov curious.
On the other side of the shirt, mounted on the wall as it would be worn on Natsu's person, was a bundle of white fabric. In many wrappings, the fabric was stretched out as it would if it were tied around someone's waist before crossing over the torso to be clasped to the left shoulder and draping down the back loosely. Far be it for Makarov to tell anyone what they should wear, or even why they do, but there was something about Natsu suddenly pulling this together that nagged at Makarov's mind. The longing gaze that the boy gave the clothing only drew more questions that he felt wouldn't be answered for some time. So, instead of asking, Makarov procured half a dozen sets of the clothing, stored them in a pocket dimension before leading Natsu to their next stop, choosing to not address the way the boy's hand clung to his locket as he skated through the mass of bodies once again.
Makarov knew when wounds were too fresh to start picking at them, but something told him that there wouldn't be a lot of time for those wounds to heal before they had to be picked at.
Slower, exposition heavy, I know. I have a table to set, though, and there will be quite a few changes. Explanations, details of who is where, ages, etc. A lot is going to be different, but I also intend to try and write well enough that nobody has to ask why. If I don't, well...oops. Kidding aside, the next chapter is a fun one in terms of who will be the POV and I promise that the long drawn out chapters like this isn't something that lingers too long.
I'll have it known, someone with the username JustaPickyreader left a very generous comment of the first chapter. If thsi story turns to absolute dogshit, that achievement alone is enough for me. Pickiness means nothing to my stories for at least a chapter. In all seriousness, reviews are encouraged, critiques are welcomed, and compliments are very much appreciated.