Death wasn't dark. To percieve darkness, one needed to be able to see in the first place. It wasn't silent, either. There simply wasn't any sound here.
One would be excused for thinking that death must be maddening experience. Most people saw a complete lack of stimuli as deeply unpleasant; many would prefer pain as an alternative.
To go mad, one needed to be able to think. To the dead, it wasn't that obvious of an ability.
No, death would be the most peaceful of states if it wasn't for an annoying, nagging feeling. It rubbed against her like a slimy, wet cat; stung like thousands needles every time she tried to truly forget and burned underneath her skin.
It fueled anger and frustration, but with dormant mind and no body, she could do nothing about it.
For Lisanna Strauss, death wasn't a peaceful slumber at all.
Zeref has woken up to the chill of hours just before sunrise and snowflakes falling down on his nose.
If he had been laying in a warm bed, he would have ignored the snow, buried his head under a duvet and went back to sleep, like people who have woken up at this hour usually did. Unfortunately, he had no duvet, no pillow and no mattress. Every minute made it more painfully clear that the cold ground wasn't particularly comfortable even for him and his melodramatic body kept shivering as if it was going to fall sick.
With a discontent grumble, he got up. There was a reason why he preferred to stick to Tenrōjima during this season. It was unclear even to him why he still remained on the continent, even though fairly warm Fiorean autumn has all but passed.
One would be excused for thinking that the infamous Black Mage would at least have some fondness for winter. The season of coldness, when life fell asleep and world seemed devoid of colour fit his reputation far more than joyful spring or hot summer.
Alas, one would be wrong.
Born and raised in what was now southern Fiore, Zeref never quite got used to the concept of snow that lasted more than two weeks somewhen during the coldest months. Thanks to fire dragons living in the vicinity back then, some years it wasn't even that much.
Zeref didn't hate winter. There were more relevant things he reserved this particular feeling for. What he did was look at it with a distant annoyance, like on a stain ruining otherwise a perfectly functional pair of socks.
For some reason, instead of teleporting to functionally tropical Tenrōjima, like he was perfectly capable of, he decided to take a walk.
Sun might have not raised yet, but the first rays of sunshine were already lighting up the forest. The trees were bare and ground covered in fallen leaves. What little snow was falling melted the second it touched the ground, creating less poetic mud.
It took him a second to realize that soft light of a soul floating amongst the branches wasn't a trick of lighting. His eyes couldn't quite decide if it was or wasn't there – souls weren't naturally visible – but once he reached out, the same sense that allowed him to sense magic in the air confirmed the suspicion. A soul, probably of a young mage. It barely reacted to his probing.
Zeref called the soul onto his palm. It was warm and fuzzy, in a strange, ethereal way.
Souls are so much more pleasant in touch than in person, he thought. He kept it for a little longer, silently enjoying the warmth and soft light. When he attempted to let it go, the soul refused to budge.
The problem with restless souls, Zeref mused to himself, is that when it comes down to it, they're just pretty leeches. The one in his palm was already trying to nibble at his magic.
He sighed and, feeling unusually generous towards what he normally considered a magical equivalent of a mosquito, allowed his magic to fuel the soul's own strength. Its shimmer strengthen and solidified into small light visible to a human eye. For a few moments longer, it remained perfectly still, then shifted slightly.
"What- what happened?" It asked in feminine voice. "Is there anyone here?"
Zeref tilted his head and blinked slowly. "You died, I reckon."
Predictably, the soul stiffened. Predictably, its distress and disbelief started to seep into his mind.
Unpredictably, it didn't vocalize any of this. Oh, it leeched itself on him; his body took a deep breath he didn't command it to do, hands trembled when he felt no fear. But this was an impulse it couldn't control. The soul itself didn't leash out, didn't scream, cry or demand anything.
For a spirit, it was impressive self-control.
"Do you know what happened to my siblings?" It- She asked quietly, fearfully. "Our mission went very badly."
"What are their names?"
"…Mirajane and Elfman Strauss. Oh, I'm Lisanna."
Zeref closed his eyes. "I fear I don't."
"Are you sure?" Previously concealed desperation seeped into her voice. "We're from Fairy Tail, Mira- she passed the S-class exams last year, they call her Demoness–"
"I don't know what happened to them," He repeated. "I don't keep up with this sort of news."
A knot of alien emotions swarmed in his chest. Frustration. Helplessness. Desperation. Worry. They pulled on strings of his own mind; dragged out the old grief and denial-
Strands od death slithered underneath his skin. In a panicked attempt to keep the curse down, he concentrated on an only safe emotions available; anger. It was easy to be angry with Lisanna, at the audacity of tempering with his mind, at her absolutely incompetent attempts at possession-
And she backed off immediately, recognizing the same anger she saw in bared fangs of a cougar soul which didn't wish to join her; in talons of an eagle, hooves of a zebra and teeth of a rat. She had trespassed. Now, she was making herself harmless and apologetic, giving him as much space as she could in her sorry state.
Animal take-over; the only subtype of this magic that allowed the user to cooperate with the creatures they used, instead of subduing them. Clearly, Lisanna was in habit of letting go the animals which didn't like her.
Some part of him felt offended at being treated like a wild beast, but he buried that deep. He took a deeper breath, this time fully his and loosened his grip on the soul, strengthened during his brief outburst.
He knew better than to hurt a creature for what it couldn't help.
"I'm sorry," She said quietly, still watching him carefully. Zeref doubted she truly meant it.
"You're a bodiless soul and I allowed you to feed on my magic. It was bound to happen," He said instead of calling her out.
Lisanna shrunk into herself like a wet, kicked kitten.
Zeref, who was about to cut off the connection and leave her floating in this cold, miserable forest, suddenly felt like a horrible human being.
She's just a glorified mosquito, he told himself. Not even a real person; nothing but a mere echo.
The emotions he felt just a moment ago seemed very, very real. More real than his own sometimes felt, on particularly empty days.
But then, it wasn't as if he hadn't been declared the most evil mage to ever walk the earth already. Leaving a restless soul to its own devices didn't even qualify to the top fifty of his worst deeds.
If she's not real, then what does it make Natsu?
On bad days, Natsu's humanity didn't matter to Zeref. The creature created out of his younger brother's body was a tool to kill him and nothing more. If pretending to be human was going to aid E.N.D. in this goal, then it was free to do so.
On bad days, he wouldn't spare a restless soul a single glance.
"Oh, fine," Zeref sighed. "I'll help you."
Lisanna sparkled.
"Don't get ahead of yourself. If they won't be able to get you to talk in this guild of yours, it's going to be their problem," He looked up. "Would they confiscate you if I sent you by post? I'm not familiar with the regulations."
She stared at him, nonplussed. "...can we not check?"
"So you don't know either."
"Of course I don't! Why would I ever try to mail a soul!?"
"It didn't hurt to ask." He shrugged.
Lisanna sighed. Her exhasperated fondness rubbed briefly against his mind. "Honestly, you're more impossible than Natsu."
The last time anyone compared Zeref to his younger brother was back when dragons had yet to be extinct so he, unsure what to make of it, said nothing. He doubted Lisanna meant much by it, anyway. It wasn't like she had any way of knowing they were related.
"Are you sure you can't go to Magnolia by yourself? It's not that far away," She paused and added. "Well, if we're still in the same place."
Excusing himself with a nonexistent day job crossed his mind and was quickly rejected as unnecessary. If he didn't want to help Lisanna, he could just leave her here and there would be nothing she could do about it.
"I may not have another choice." Zeref looked around, trying to spot a dry place. Given that in the meantime snow turned into a drizzle, it could have been an impossible task. "Maybe weather is slightly better over there."
The weather was not, in fact, any better in Magnolia.
It was far worse.
Zeref looked like a drowned rat before his senses quite grasped where he was after teleportation. His robes might have been made from excellent fabric, but they weren't waterproof; there were only so many properties clothing could have.
Right now, he was deeply regretting not having a raincoat. It might not have fit the aesthetic he was usually going for, but it would make his life significantly drier.
"Are you okay?" Lisanna asked, sensing his discomfort. As she had no body, the rain didn't affect her.
"Just a rainstorm," He muttered when a powerful gust of wind hit them, sending him into a sneezing fit.
The soul gave him a doubtful look. She radiated a surpressed conviction he was going to be oh so sick, but knew better than to point that out. "We should go to the guild."
And get you a mug of something warm, she pointedly didn't say. This idea felt so obliviously correct to her that for a moment, Zeref was genuinely planning to go to Fairy Tail and wait until the rain stopped there, sipping hot chocolate.
"Later," He said tiredly. He didn't belong to a warm home filled with life-long friends. "When nobody's there."
The cold sunk deep into his bones. An echo of the past long forgotten by everyone but him stirred restlessly. Memory of a warm lair and a dragon who decided him a friend; similarly atrocious weather outside and notes upon notes on impossible magic he had yet to understand.
It was about as real as Lisanna was alive.
Zeref shook the old memories off, shivered and went off to find any semblance of a shelter. Small light of a soul followed him.
It was going to be a long day.
"You know, we could go to Natsu's house. I doubt he's in right now."
"No." He shook his head. He was very familiar with sharpness of a dragon's nose. Even if he erased his scent, Natsu would still know something was off.
It was still raining.
"What are you even looking for? There aren't any big caves around here."
Zeref didn't answer. Maybe he didn't know.
"Oh, honestly…"
They found a giant evergreen tree, eventually. Ground underneath it wasn't very dry or warm, but at least it kept his head mostly safe from the constant rain.
Fairy Tail guildhall was strangely serene during the night. The sound of the rain murmured where laughter and arguments should be ringing; peaceful darkness was sneaking around the tables where mages scuffled and brawled during the daytime. The strands of black magic that accompanied Zeref's arrival settled comfortably underneath the floor and vanished silently.
Makarov's muffled magic rested in guild master's office. He fell asleep on a pillow of unfinished paperwork and stress of the recent disastrous mission.
Normally, Zeref's footsteps were fairly quiet. In the silence of a deserted guildhall, they sounded like scream.
"It's good to be home," Lisanna said softly. Her light made Zeref's face look even more pale than usual – not that wet strands of black hair helped anyhow.
"Mhm. You won't float away if I leave you here?"
"Not deliberately," She sighed. "Are you sure you don't want tea? Nobody is going to be offended if you make yourself some. I doubt they'll even notice it's missing."
Zeref's first instinct was to refuse. A man with a death curse starying in the middle of a town was a recipe for a disaster on its own. Makarov was one of the few people who might recognize him for who he was and any risk of giving Natsu an idea that Zeref could be a friend was too high.
But...
But his curse remained unusually quiet.
But Makarov was firmly asleep and if he woke up, vanishing without trace wasn't a problem for Zeref.
But he have been cold, wet and miserable for the entire day and a warm drink tempted him far more than it ought to.
It's just five minutes. Maybe ten.
"It won't hurt, I suppose."
Wrapped in a black raincoat, Mirajane was wandering mindlessly Magnolia's streets.
It wasn't a smart thing to do. Not when she still had every intention to get up in the morning, go to the guildhall and put on her warmest smile, as if her faked kindness could fill the hole Lisanna had left behind. She couldn't sleep, though and couldn't stand a thought of spending yet another sleepless night in their empty house.
So she kept wandering. The sound of rain and weak light of the street lamps brought her peace the guild no longer could. They seemed to share her sorrow and hide her tears. Even occasional windows in which lights were still turned on fit, somehow, with their far-away promise of warmth of a home and family hidden somewhere she couldn't see.
After what could be ten minutes as well as two hours, her feet lead her on a familiar path to the guildhall. Mira didn't stop them. It was as good destination as any, in this rainy night. Nobody was going to be there, not at this hour and not when no one felt like having a party a day before.
She reached the guildhall from a side. It wasn't half as impressive from this side as it was from the front, without a great gate and a banner announcing to the world that this was Fairy Tail. In one of the small windows lights were turned on. It looked quite pathetic on the bottom of three floors high wall, this tiny speck of light.
Was Master still inside? He had been still working when Mirajane left. With a frown, she went to the back of the building; lights in his office were also turned on.
He could have just forgotten to turn them off in one of the rooms. Or maybe he did it on purpose. Walking dark corridors could be unsettling, even if he knew them his entire life.
Still unsure, Mirajane took out her keys and quietly entered the guild through the side door.
Light was coming from the kitchen. Feeling a little silly, she was about to leave, certain it was just Master making coffee.
"Where do you keep honey?" Someone who was most certainly not Master asked.
"There should be a jar under the sink."
Mirajane froze. No world existed in which she wouldn't recognize that voice. No world in which hearing it wouldn't fill her with foolish, impossible hope that somehow, Lisanna was alive.
She rushed to the kitchen, not caring how much noise she was making. She barged inside, nearly tearing the door out of hinges. "Lisanna?!"
The only person in the kitchen was a half-bent boy about Natsu's age, holding a jar of honey in his hands. He was looking at her with wide eyes.
"Where's my sister?!" She demanded.
In complete silence, he pointed at a counter.
Nothing was there except a sugar bowl. She was about to blow up at him for making stupid, cruel jokes, but then she saw it. A small bundle of light, flickering in and out of existence.
Her throat felt dry. Of course Lisanna wasn't alive. She brought her body back with her own hands.
"Mira?" The soul asked quietly. It sounded like Lisanna, but not; as if somebody rewrote her voice into a choir of tiny bells. "You're alive?"
"Of course I am," Mirajane whispered. "It's you who–"
She didn't end that sentence. She couldn't.
"What about Elfman?"
She was about the answer her sister's hesitant question, when the boy spoke up.
"If you tell her, she will pass on." His voice wasn't any louder then theirs, but it was clear as crystal in this rainy, lonely night.
"What?" Mirajane asked unwittingly.
"She's stuck in the realm of living because she doesn't know what happened to you two. Tell her and she's gone," He shrugged. "Don't get me wrong; she should rest as soon as possible. But I imagine that if your brother did survive, he would prefer to say his goodbyes by himself."
His words felt like a mockery, even if tone of his voice was mild. Lisanna wasn't back. She was going to die all over again the moment they reunite.
"There's no point in getting Elfman if he's not alive," Lisanna pointed out. It was hard to read this version of her, with her voice slightly off and no face, nor body.
"Is there no one else you would like to see before you go?"
The soul's light dimmed. Mira didn't know what it meant, but she knew her sister.
"Happy's taking it badly," She said, burying her own tears. Her voice didn't shake. "If no one else, you should come and see him. He's still little."
The boy put a spoon of honey into his tea and started mixing it.
"Yeah," Lisanna agreed. "I should."
Mira didn't need her face to know she felt ashamed of herself. Her little sister was the sweetest person she knew; always patient and thoughtful. She would never disregard Happy. She and Natsu basically raised him. Forgetting about him like this was unlike her, no matter how understandable.
Using her own kind nature to fool her left bad taste in Mira's mouth, but she couldn't think about herself. Couldn't deny Elfman a chance to see Lisanna off.
"What's your name?" She asked the boy, who was observing them, holding the mug with both hands, warming himself.
"Does it matter?"
"I would like to know whom I'm thanking."
He sighed and looked to the side, as if he saw something there. "You can thank me by letting me drink my tea in peace."
Her previous self would have protested. Demanded an answer, even if it meant resorting to violence.
Her current self nodded. People had they secrets and it wasn't her place to pry.
She called Lisanna. The soul said her goodbyes to the boy and floated to her side.
"It will pass," He said quietly when they were about to leave. "Everything does, eventually. Both good and bad."
She didn't stop. Her past self didn't care about such sentiments and the present self haven't yet learned how. She wouldn't have known how to answer even if she wanted to.
Zeref leaned against the counter and took the first sip. During Mirajane's unplanned intrusions, it has cooled down to a drinkable temperature.
"I know you're there," He said to an empty doorway.
The small silhouette which has appeared was far from imposing. Only an ignorant fool would underestimate Fairy Tail's guild master, though; for a mage, body size had very little meaning. Magic could compensate much more.
"Zeref," Makarov stated, watching him warily.
"So Precht did tell you about me. I've been wondering."
"You haven't showed up again for nearly a century. Why come now?"
Shrugging wasn't particularly befitting of a legendary Black Mage, but that's what Zeref did. "Lisanna was polite enough and I had nothing better to do."
Makarov raised an eyebrow.
The rain has picked up again.
Zeref drank some more of the tea.
"The weather is truly horrible, isn't it?" He mused conversationally.
Makarov looked at him, at the tea and his less than dry clothes. "It is, yes."
Another lull of silence and half a mug of tea later, the guild master spoke again. "You helped because you were cold."
It wasn't a question. Not really. If something, it was an exhausted hypothesis of a man far too used to the convoluted logic of his own mages.
"My help tends to be a double-edged sword." Zeref tilted his head. "No, I just had nothing better to do."
With a sigh indicating he would prefer Zeref to be a stress-induced hallucination, Makarov said; "The guild opens at eight." And, after giving his soaked clothes another look, added. "There should be some towels in the shower. If Natsu didn't burn them, that's it."
"Tea is enough."
The guild master, far too tired to properly deal with the ancient anomaly sipping tea in front of him, looked up. "Suit yourself. I'll be in my office."
As he said, he did. Soon enough, Zeref was standing alone in the kitchen with an empty mug in his hands.
He washed it and put on a dryer. A thought of hot shower tempted him, but if previous events were any indication, he would end up with yet another Fairy Tail mage barging in, the middle of night or not. With a simple gesture, he erased his scent. A futile endeavour, given he had been seen, but it was better than nothing.
He left as he came; by teleporting away in a swirl of darkness.
Warm air of Tenrōjima has greeted him like an old friend. It felt like a heated blanket.
In a plane to which no living being had access, a newcomer has arrived.
It didn't cause any ruckus. That place had no concept of space; the residents couldn't accidentally bump into each other or feel it's overcrowded. Everyone had their own little corner, surrounded by those they wanted there the most.
Truth to be told, it wasn't truly a place – but the dead came from where everything was a place, so that's how they perceived it, even when they didn't see or hear. It was peaceful. Some of the living who found themselves on the edge spoke about the golden fields.
Only two people greeted the newcomer. Everyone else who could have come were still alive. Still, they were happy.
I would love to tell you there's deeper reasoning behind this fic, but I would be lying. I just wanted to see Zeref interacting with a soul and Lisanna was the first somewhat dead character to come to my mind.