Chapter 3: Shadows Skulking Through Blind Light
Dark eyes peered at the mighty marble sculpture that stood proudly at the center of the Magic Council's headquarters. Standing at nearly fifteen feet, the sculpture bathed itself in the blue light that poured through grand stained glass windows. Feet stood wide, in a proud stance of strength, as finely sculpted waves of marble flowed around the base as if it were fabric pooling on the ground. Waves of marble climbed up the sculptures impressive stature from foot to head, pouring down its arms like the finest of silks. In the left handed grasp of the creation stood a staff that was headed with a fine crystalline jewel that emulated the same equipment the Magic Council's proud Rune Knights bore. The opposite hand of the sculpture was extended outward, fingers spread in a halting fashion with its palm jutted out, as if there was something to be stopped or tamed in front of it, despite there only being one man to gaze upon the craftsmanship. On the chest, painted the same blue as the staff's jewel, was the symbol of the magic council: a teardrop loop sitting upon perpendicular bars. The symbol was an old one, one that represented life and the importance of safeguarding it, and it would be a mistake to not place such a symbol on the representation of the Council's champion. A champion that bore no face, only a marble shroud in its place that kept any sense of identity from the fine creation.
Jellal looked at the sculpture with interest. There was something about the fine artwork before him that always made the man think. All he could think about was how out of place the creation seemed to be. Granted, if he were to look around himself, gazing at the monstrous pillars that lined the sides of the vast open hall, the stained glass windows lining the top of said hall, or the fine glitterings of sapphire and gold in the white granite at his feet, Jellal would understand why such a grand sculpture stood where it was. This was Era, a city crafted around the birth of the Magic Council, and it was only here that such audacious displays could be made, but that wasn't what drew his curiosity. No, what Jellal lingered on wasn't the artistic choice of the sculpture itself, but the identity of the mage beneath the cloak.
In the entire continent of Ishgar, and by association the eastern country of Fiore, there wasn't a single person that could wear the title of a hero throughout the bloody history of magic and its users. There wasn't a mage that walked across the land to right the wrongs of their peers, standing against those who wished to wreak havoc on the land. There was no staffed man that bore the Magic Council's symbol to bring peace to troubled lands. No, the only name that lived through history was the name of a man that was spoken of with terror centuries after his death. If there was to be a sculpture of anybody in their world of magic, there was no other to erect a memorial for than the Black Wizard himself. That's not to say Jellal wished there to be a fine crafting of Zeref's likeness before him in place of the faceless Hero of the Council, but it was an interesting thought nonetheless.
"It's been a month. You've had to have grown bored of this statue by now, haven't you?" The sharp voice of familiarity cut through Jellal's thoughts from his left. Glancing over to the newcomer, whatever intrigue that caught the man's mind was lost as he shafted gears into something more serious, matching the tone of the woman's voice that interrupted his thoughts quite perfectly. Purple hair, which was so dark it was nearly black, flowed over the woman's long, straight tresses before halting in a meticulously straight line at the center of her torso. The dark hair sat strikingly atop white robes that were closed with a thick gold sash around her midsection. As always, the woman's right arm was bare of a sleeve while the left was draped in loose fabric that came to a stop just past her hand, leaving the barest glimmers of the flawless pale green of the lacrima that she always carried with her. She met Jellal's gaze were sharp red eyes that matched the red she always painted her lips when she was here in Era, both standing out against her pale complexion.
"Not all of us grow so bored so quickly, Ultear." Jellal replied simply, his tone as stoney with her as hers was with him. Colleagues they may be, friends they were not. It didn't matter, though. They didn't need to be friends or anything near it. They both looked toward the same goal bearing vastly different reasons and even further intentions, but if the end goal was the same, both were willing to put up with what they had to. They had their duties. "I suppose this means the meeting is about to start?"
"It's already started, Jellal. The Council waits for nobody, no matter how intrigued they may be by a worthless statue." Ultear's words were cut through thin lips and a harsh whisper as she didn't wish to draw any attention to them. Well, no more attention than two Council members could in the lobby of their headquarters. Without further comment, the image of Ultear flickered and faded into nothingness, leaving Jellal alone again to his own thoughts. Holding in a scoff, the man turned on his heel and walked toward the meeting chamber with his hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket.
As he walked through the echoing halls of the grand building toward his destination, Jellal was stopped countless times by workers, mages, and Rune Knights as they all gave their respect to him as their superior. It wasn't a feeling he was used to, nor was it a feeling he wanted to get used to. Jellal Fernandes was nobody's leader, no matter how many wished to thrust him into that spotlight. Yet, he had a part to play, and he would play it. So, when a man, woman, or other magical being would recognize his bright blue hair, the dark red mark that bore his origins that danced over his right eye in a strange pattern, or see the blue councilman pendant on his draping white jacket and stop to speak with the youngest appointed Council Member in history, Jellal would smile, laugh, and wave as they left. It was what he was tasked with, and if it brought him closer to his goal, his fate, then he would bear it.
Maybe he was already late for the meeting's commencement, but that didn't mean he intended to be quick in arriving. His conversations with passersby were drawn out, his pace was slow, and his urgency was nonexistent. When he did finally reach his destination, passing many guards and bypassing many large doors, Jellal was greeted with the sounds of his peers before he even opened the doors. Discussion is running hot already, he thought to himself with no small amount of amusement. Despite portraying themselves as some grand order, the bulk of the Magic Council's meeting was no more than childish squabbles between old faces and hard heads. Nothing ever made Jellal's job more easy than fuming old coots that wanted nothing more than their self-gratification.
Blue light glared brightly into his eyes as Jellal slid through the large doors and took his position on a glowing white circle that lay on the perimeter of a circular blue floor. Seven other glowing circles joined Jellal's own on the floor's perimeter, making a circle of circles atop a gleaming blue floor that saturated with light the closer it got to its center. Splayed between Jellal and his colleagues was a blue design that oddly resembled a snowflake in a much more fiery hue of blue, allowing it to glow with a certain vigor as words were tossed across it. None addressed Jellal's lax appearance, or his tardiness, as he stood to Ultear's right and maintained his spot at the left of the Chairman of the Magic Council. He was an exceptionally round man, the Chairman. In truth, the man didn't present himself as a force to be reckoned with, despite his position at the head of the Magic Council. His body was mountainous, but soft in any place anyone was willing to look. The Chairman's barreled body was covered with the loose draperies of clothes, colored in browns, tans, and blacks that didn't help to shrink his exceptional mass any less. To make matters worse, the man's round head was a small stone atop a large boulder, a small stone fashioned with a balding top-knot of white hair and two plump masses of snow white hair that fell from face to the top of his stomach. No doubt he was a cunning man, with a cunning man's magic, but Jellal could never see a chairman in the man. Not truly. Only the humble Crawford Theme, whether that be for good or bad.
"I say, once again, that we should not treat this beast like an everyday mage, councilmen, but a threat to our peace." The screeching voice of Michello finally broke whatever barrier Jellal had separating himself and the conversation at hand. Michello was a short, short man that bore an uncanny resemblance to a cat, even without the winding tail that flicked behind his back. Sharp cat ears poked through fuzzy red hair, right in line with his bare human ears on the side of his face, as beady eyes flicked across the face around the man. A broad, wafting mustache flicked and twitched with the shuffling nose above it, showing how much frustration was cooped up in such a small body. Jellal was sure that, given enough time, claws would be bared and hissing would ensue, cane be damned. Just as the thought passed through his mind, Michello's fingers scratched erratically at the light purple sleeve of his upper arm, adding more rips and tears to the fabric that extended to his wrist. In fact, there weren't many spots on his light purple long sleeve, dark purple vest, or loose fitted black pants that didn't show some wear due to extended claws.
There was little context given, but he already knew what the matter at hand was. It was a consistent matter that only grew over the last few years, although this was the first time Jellal was allowed input on it. His young tenure as a council member begins on interesting tidings, indeed. At the center of the room, floating approximately waist height between the eight members of the Council was a lacrima that looked similar to the one Ultear held tightly to her body, but at a much grander scale. Admittedly, this lacrima's magic stores were much less violent than that of the lacrima in his colleague's grasp. The one at the center of the meeting chamber merely glowed as it displayed the rough image of the topic at hand. Pink hair sat wild upon his head, dancing over his eyes that were hardened on the man that captured the moment of last night when their Rune Knights stumbled upon the notorious Akuma. Jellal let his eyes settle on the unmoving gaze of the still image, meeting the lethal glare that showed the young councilman all he needed to know about the boy.
"And how do you propose we do that, Michello? Officially, he is a mage of Fairy Tail. Nothing can be done unless illegal action is done by the mage directly or the guild he is a member of." The squinted eyes of old man Yajima didn't even quirk as he addressed Michello, his elderly voice rasping out in what was either exhaustion, boredom, or a hearty mix of the two. His frame was small under the red long sleeve shirt that tried to hug what was left of his form, just as his black pants tried to do the same on the lower half of his body, but neither did well in showing off what wasn't there. Yajima was hunched over slightly, arms tied behind his back, and his head slightly bowed in front of him. The angle of the man's face made the grooves of age, and the accompanying frown, only more harsh while also accenting the mighty gray eyebrows that jut over the man's squinted eyes. More times than not, Yajima was the voice of reason that calmed the bickering personalities of the Council, especially when it pertained to the Fairy Tail guild.
Old loyalties are hard to shake for many, it seemed.
Naturally, Jellal had heard of the happenings of last night. The same Lullaby that seemed to have walked itself out of the deep vaults here in Era found itself to be a pile of ash yesterday evening by the very man that was displayed between them all. It was no surprise that the man who made a name of himself demolishing dark guilds and slaying demons had added another to his count so soon. What was a surprise, and one that had him sending a questioning gaze to his left, was the fact that Fiore's own Wandering Demon had found himself a home. A home within the guild that found itself the subject of these very meetings more often than not due to their reckless "following" of the Council's policies. Perhaps such information was less than known, even to six of the eight bodies within this room, but Jellal did know that Fairy Tail wasn't the first guild to approach the rogue mage. However, it did seem that this guild was the one he agreed to follow, despite certain persuasive efforts.
Ultear didn't meet Jellal's glance in her direction. Instead, her gaze was unmoving from the visage of their topic of discussion. Natsu. Jellal believed the man's name to be based on the file provided by Lahar. Whatever it was about Natsu seemed to immediately draw Ultear's attention, which could be either very good or quite the opposite. Ultear had a keen eye, for lack of a better phrase. She knew when somebody was worth keeping an eye on. She knew when they were worth her interest. Yet, being worth Ultear's interest was something that no average mage, or man, wished to be.
"We all know our own opinions on this matter, but what about our newest recruit?" The flat voice of Belno cut through the silence. Blonde hair, that looked more dull and gray by the day, splayed out behind the woman's head in a fan of spikes as her face was framed with straight falling bangs. Keen eyes cut to meet Jellal's gaze, the subtle wrinkles around the woman's purple colored lips deepening as she fell into her natural frown. Arms were crossing under the high-collared black cape that wrapped around the aging woman's body, mostly concealing the long-sleeved purple shirt beneath it with a gold linked clasp that kept it on her shoulders.
The question made all of the councilmen turn their attention to Jellal with the same inquisitive gaze. Even upon his first meeting being thrust into the discussions of the mighty Magic Council, Jellal wasn't fazed by the seven pairs of eyes drilling their holes into his face as the spot was turned onto him. Now, only a month later, he still had yet to feel the perspiration of addled nerves accumulate under his fine coat. Instead, the familiar tug of a smile stretched across his lips as he let his eyes drag around the circle of the Magic Council before coming to rest on the image still present between them all. Again, his attention was pulled into the dangerous glint that gleamed harshly in charcoal eyes beneath wild pink bangs.
"As you know, fellow councilmen, my story doesn't stray far from that of our Wandering Demon." Jellal began with his voice light and filled with only the subtlest condescension. It was hard for anybody to not know Jellal's story, especially when in Era of all places. He was the youngest to be placed on the Magic Council, the third youngest to be placed in the Order of the Ten Wizard Saints of Ishgar, even if he barely squeezed in at number ten. His rise was meteoric, on any metric, and him mentioning the humble beginnings of that rise was only slightly self-serving. "I'd argue, with only the highest form of gratitude, that the only thing that separates me from him," Jellal nudged his head forward to indicate toward the lacrima image, "is that he doesn't have a champion sitting here amongst us fighting for his cause as I did."
With full intent, Jellal let his gaze drift purposefully toward Ultear as he said this. It was true, albeit with some skewed details. Ultear, without fail, made sure that any time his name came up in these chambers it was without absence of how important it was that somebody stood up to the horrors that happened in the depths of the magic world. Policing the line between civilian and enchanted was one matter, but the underbelly of the magic world was something else entirely. Vile things hide behind every shadow and in its place stood a grand visage of beauty, present company included. When Jellal "gallivanted" against dark guilds, he did so with someone ensuring that the right message was spun. As the Akuma marched from village to village, town to town, leaving nothing but ash and destruction, he was seen as a harbinger that could waft up anywhere at any point in time. Quite fitting.
"Perhaps this is a chance to amend that, councilmen." Jellal paused, scanning the faces that looked back at him with interest. Naturally, there was annoyance and curiosity spread throughout the room, but that was exactly what was needed: divisive consideration. "One of us should go to Fairy Tail with the sole purpose of getting to better know both Natsu and Saint Dreyer's choice in accepting him. Only then can we truly understand what we face with the two joining."
Just like that, with a simple suggestion that dallied as much on one side as the other, silence and consideration filled the room. Even if the topic was less than pressing to any major happenings across the country, Jellal knew that any chance he could make the room silent and unsure was one he should be proud of. That's what he was here for. He was the wildcard that threw the balance of the chambers in a way that always kept the boat rocking. Now, all he had to wait for was a chance to do so in a truly pressing matter.
"You make a strong point, my boy." Yajima was the first to speak up, voice as raspy as always. When Jellal looked over to him, however, he was met with the beady eyes that usually found themselves buried in a heavy squint. "So strong, in fact, I do find it almost necessary that it is you who sees this opportunity through. You've said yourself, this is a boy whose path you can identify with, perhaps it is best that you establish common ground for the Council to ensure the best relationship possible."
Jellal met Yajima's gaze, inspecting the dark pools that reflected the overwhelming blue haze of the room and finding something he couldn't quite place. There was something else to this, something that was buried underneath the words of assent. These were politics, after all. Everybody had an agenda, everybody had an alternative purpose, and there was never a matter too small to see these purposes through. Yajima had one in mind, but Jellal simply couldn't see it. If he had, there wouldn't have been a single difference in his reply as a warm smile overtook his features.
"I couldn't agree more, my friend." Just like that, Jellal's schedule for the next few days shifted dramatically. What was once a brief respite from the administrative work that came with his high position and cushy office now morphed into an excursion to the east to introduce himself to both Fairy Tail and the rogue mage that has drawn so much fuss. Intrigued. That was the most he was willing to admit to himself that he felt toward the trip. Anything more and he would be delving into memories too long past to worry about now.
Hands went about cleaning the pages that filled the fine oak desk before him as the afternoon sun poured through the broad windows at his back. Despite this being his office, nothing within it was truly his. The plush blue sofas that sat atop a white rug emblazoned with the Council's symbol on it was here long before he was. The same could be said about the case of books that filled the east and west walls on this floor as well as the shelves on the eastern wall on the balcony from the stairs on his right. Knicknacks, trinkets, playthings, all of it was here before him and would be there after. This was "his" office as much as the Magic Council "ruled" over the magic world. It wasn't and they didn't.
There was one thing that Jellal brought into this office, but even then it wasn't exactly his. Opening the bottom drawer of the desk, on the right hand side, Jellal looked at the pale green lacrima that pulsed a less-than-subtle red beat of magic. It was that pulse of magic that drew Jellal to the drawer in the first place, and the one that made his fingers snap in a burst of magic as the perimeters of the room, door, and windows were all etched in white runes that demanded his privacy from the outside world. No sound in, no sound out. Of course, that privacy didn't extend to people barging into the room without so much as a warning, which happened to be Ultear's favorite method of entry.
"Knocking would have been the appropriate approach." Jellal said without a glance to the woman that was already walking around his desk and standing at his left side, eyes already trained on the lacrima like a dog waiting for a treat. He never got her unflinching devotion, but never cared enough to ask either.
"Answer it." She replied with no lack of intensity in her voice. Rolling his eyes, Jellal took out the lacrima and set it on his desk before giving it a pulse of magic through his palm. Immediately, the pale green sheen of the Lacrima was replaced with the stern face of their master. Tan skin that bore wrinkles of age, yet hiding more years than they betrayed, and white hair that matched it. A thick, wide mustache sat over a tense mouth before flowing into a long tail of hair that fell far beyond the minute image in the lacrima. A single, bored green eye stared into the lacrima from the other end next to a black leather eye patch that was slung on the right half of their master's face. Just like that, with a single glimpse at his visage, any foolhardiness that sat within Jellal was stripped from him, leaving an obedience almost as strict as Ultear's.
"Master Hades." Both councilmen bowed their heads and spoke in unity as they addressed the guildmaster of Grimoire Heart, the strongest dark guild in Ishgar. Everyone had loyalties that contradicted and superseded others, and this loyalty was the one that superseded Jellal's loyalty to the Council. The blue thorned heart sitting atop demon horns that was emblazoned on Jellal's left pectoral proved that loyalty, just as the purple mark upon Ultear's upper back did for her. Agents, criminals, traitors, they were that and much more at the behest of their master.
"Ultear, Jellal, I do hope all is well and our position is stable within the Council." Their master's voice was a heavy timber, one of that of a sleeping giant, that was almost bored compared to theirs. He probably was, which was never a good thing.
"We are stable, master. Jellal has integrated with the other council members and is being sent on his first duty in the morning. Nothing of importance has sprung within the meetings, not even the disappearance of Lullaby stirred them. We will be ready when you wish to continue, Master Hades." Again, Ultear bows as she says his name. She couldn't even bother to send an insulting comment his way when they spoke to their master. She was a picture perfect servant when she was anything but at any other point in the day.
Hades closed his eyes, either in a long blink or a quick consideration, before opening it halfway once again and shifting his gaze to Jellal. "First assignment, boy? What errands are you to run for the Magic Council?" There was a guttural grumble, one that came deep within the man as an amused smirk played on his lips. Master Hades predated the Magic Council, by quite a few years if he heard it told correctly. There wasn't an entity he feared less than the Council when it came to its management of their world. However, he was wary of the weapons the Council held within its hands should their moves be too open and too careless, hence Jellal's and Ultear's placement.
"I am to visit Fairy Tail and build a relationship with the Akuma for the Council." Jellal spoke simply and concisely, already knowing the approximate reaction he would receive. Immediately, the half opened eye narrowed significantly, leaving only the slimmest margins between eyelids. The corners of already tense lips curled downward ever so slightly, but more than enough to portray the displeasure the man felt.
"Ultear," Hades began with a bark that had the woman to his left flinch subtly, "that girl currently resides within Fairy Tail, yes?" The man never shifted his gaze off of Jellal, more so drilling his attention into the man with a force that seemed to push through the link between communication lacrimas. Ultear's affirmation came sharp and quick, leaving hardly any time for Jellal to breathe between the man's words. "Then I hope loyalties aren't forgotten when memories of the past are brought to the surface. There is a task to be done and we cannot look at boons of the present and forsake the boons of our true purpose. Remember, boy, you want your friends on your side of the world, do not be foolish in simple trials."
As always, there were many meanings to the "lessons" that Master Hades would share. This one bore that and then some, none of which were all too comforting for the man as he restrained himself from shifting one way or another in his chair. "Of course, Master Hades. I wouldn't even dream of it." He wasn't lying, either. Jellal knew the goal of Grimoire Heart and the world they were trying to bring. He knew because it was that goal that kept him here, doing what Master Hades told him to do.
"Good. I want both of you at your best in the coming months. As you say, pertinent matters have been lacking lately, but Brain has informed me that Oracion Seis plans to make their moves soon, meaning that you must provide some cover for them as you can. Once they've kicked up enough dust, it will be our turn to move forward. The world is shifting quickly, I shouldn't have to tell you to be prepared for it." Without a proper dismissal, the visage of Hades within the Lacrima was gone, leaving an empty pale green orb of crystal idle on his desk.
Jellal's lungs exhaled the air and building tension that was held within his body all at once, keeping just enough in there to not collapse in his seat in front of the woman at his left. Just as their master had, Ultear made her exit without a word to him, simply leaving the same way she entered. Only then did Jellal's back hit the comfortable cushion of his chair as his hands rubbed over the length of his face. Years and years under Master Hades and the man still felt like a greater being when they spoke to each other. There was always a fear of his life simply being forfeit on a whim that entered the old man's head. It wasn't even an irrational fear, as it was one that he had seen plenty of times, but Jellal would have hoped he grew out of that childish fear already.
There were some things that the mind simply never shook.
For Jellal, the one thing that would never leave him was the scars of the Tower of Heaven. That single place, that hell, was the entire reason he was here today. Abducted as a child, Jellal and many others of every age were slaves to a group of Zeref zealots that found the writings of the fabled R-system. The idea was to use Zeref's own creation to revive the Dark Wizard as their lord and leader. Jellal, and many other kids his age, eventually found it in themselves to stage a revolt within the construction of the R-system. They learned magic from a kindly old man, old man Rob, and fought against their oppressors. The success of the revolt was…undecided. The Tower of Heaven was never truly built, but only one of his friends truly broke free of her shackles to the outside world and the rest of the revolutionaries were brought to a forceful end.
As it turns out, the Tower of Heaven was a project of Grimoire Heart. The reason it didn't get completed was because Hades abandoned the idea on the basis that he hadn't enough power to supply it, at least not without drawing too much attention to himself. The risks were too high and the chance of success far too low, or so he was told. Instead, Hades took in Jellal and what remained of his friends in the aftermath to use them more directly, They were brought into Grimoire Heart and it was Jellal that made a name for himself. He took strongly to a Lost Magic, a magic no longer practiced as its broader knowledge was lost to time, and he was able to become an asset for the infamous dark guild. To the outside world, Jellal was a martyr for those being oppressed by dark guilds, with the help of Ultear in the Era and eventually on the Council itself, while actually being an enforcer for Grimoire Heart. When branch guilds beneath Grimoire stepped out of line, it was Jellal that set things to rights. As he built a reputation of vigilantism to put himself in the Ten Wizard Saints and the Council, Jellal was simply cleaning the house of the strongest dark guild. Beautiful poetry.
In truth, no matter what he told Hades, it was his past that made him almost restless to get to Magnolia. First and foremost, he might have a chance to see her face, but he also found himself curious about Natsu. Jellal knew why he did what he did. He knew that he wasn't some savior for the people that they painted him as, but what was the Akuma truly. Was there an ambitious dark guild that saw an opportunity as Hades did? Was he after his own selfish goal as Jellal was? If so, what could it be? There was a small, childish hope that Jellal could find someone that simply understood. He followed Hades, he did his duties, and he bore the mark of Grimoire Heart. He did those things for the light at the end. Hades wished to open a New World, one fashioned in a way they desired. In their New World, there wouldn't be a Tower of Heaven, there wouldn't be constant struggle, but peace. He could have his friends at his side as if they never left. They could be whole again. Jellal bore the burdens of his position for that reason alone, but what was Natsu's reason?
If he had any say in it, Jellal would find out. Jellal would find out simply for the chance to see a man on the same path as his own.
Extracting himself from his chair, letting his eyes refocus to the light that he stole from himself beneath the cover of his hands, Jellal stood and began storing things for his trip. At first light he would be making the first train to Magnolia, and with any luck he'll find some peace in his mind after so many years running astray.
A bit of a shift off base from the original story, admittedly. It'll be the first of a long list of them, so don't be caught too off-guard.
Writing for characters that are considered the villains in anything is more fun, imo. Less hoops to jump through with things like morality or honor. Just go for it. It also helps change the pace of writing for every chapter. The mind gets to shift gears to think about the story from a separate perspective. My only in depth exposure to literature as an adult is the ASOIAF books that Game of Thrones is based of off, excluding the back half of the seasons at least. Love those books, love the detail and characterization, and I like how organic it feels. Not saying I can replicate a fraction of it, but that's the clear inspiration from how I decide to write.
There is still plenty to introduce over the next few chapters, but with the steadily shifting perspectives I hope to break it up in a way that is at least somewhat digestible.