3 months after the Liberation.
Jellal did not mean to be a problem. Genuinely, he did not.
But he couldn't exactly shift gears from roaming several countries at liberty with no one to command but himself, to ruling an oversized empire that seemed obsessed with watching his every move. So he would judge carefully and take himself on a walk whenever he was too close to losing his mind.
The tiny Legion, no more than a few hours old, stumbled drunkenly as the air sac in its chest struggled to hold enough air to lift it. Her tiny wings fluttered as she tried to keep her balance. He steadied her automatically, smiling when she nosed his hand trustingly, already familiar with his presence thanks to his handling of her egg. Overhead, her mother, his personal mount, a rare White Legion, gave a pleased rumble. She had reappeared a few weeks after the Anima had closed for good, sensing his presence after running wild for the years he had been away. And she had come back bearing a newly laid egg in her mouth.
"She's perfect, Ciri."
He reached up and she bent down to let him scratch under her chin in the spot that she liked best. Ciri had been quite insistent on his presence, even flying over the outbuilding barracks where he had been staying. One of the areas that hadn't been rendered to stone soup by the Rosa Espada in Fae's hands.
Is it bad I still feel proud of her for her schemes?
Even now, months after the fact, people were still finding some of her alchemical traps as they ventured into the ruined palace to salvage what they could from it and reassess it to know best how to rebuild. Lots of walls were no good and would need to come down, but the softened earth and stone had actually settled into a firm potential foundation for a new structure over top. There would just need to be a considerable amount of demolition to remove the overlying material.
Ciri's tail came around to steady her hatchling as she attempted to rise again on unsteady legs. Legions were top heavy, and her air sac was still clearing of the egg fluid as she coughed to clear it. The sight of a round, fluffy white blob on spindly dark legs looked comical. But the hatchling placed her head in Mystogan's arms and crooned trustingly.
"Hello my little lady." He returned the trust and affection warmly, scratching around her small, stubby horns. "Welcome to the world."
She trilled happily at the sound of his voice. Ciri had brought her egg to him to establish a sense of kinship between them. Legion young could bond with people still inside the shell, their vibration sensitive horns allowing them to hear acutely and recognize voices they were exposed to while in-shell.
Mystogan coaxed the newborn through her first deep inhale, enough to fully inflate her sac and let her stand steadily even on weak legs.
Then the baby shifted uneasily and cuddled up to her mother, burying her head into Ciri's fur. She was manifesting the drawback to her acute hearing: noise sensitivity. She was still unused to coping with the usual sounds of daily living. Someone was coming towards the stable at a run. Possibly even several someone's.
Mystogan rose, shushing Ciri's warning growl with a pat on her head as he went to the stable doors. The people were no doubt coming here looking for him. It was somewhat of a big deal when the recently crowned king disappeared without a trace from where he was expected to be.
He had been here for only a few weeks, working to keep the entire community from collapsing in on itself before someone asked him point blank when he intended to have a coronation ceremony. That someone being the man standing before him flanked by three others.
Captain Simon Mikas took his appearance in at a glance as Mystogan carefully closed the stable door, signaling them all to stay quiet. He only spoke once he could do so in a low tone.
"Apologies for disappearing so abruptly, Captain. Ciri's youngling was hatching."
As far as excuses went, Mystogan felt this one was among his more reasonable. He had used a considerable number of them in the few months since he was named the new king. He had to control the urge to make jokes about why he was absent as there were a distressing amount of people who took him entirely too literally.
Simon's single eye regarded him flatly, standing several inches taller than he was. It took a concerted effort to not feel like a scolded child under that gaze.
"Did all go well for her?"
"The baby is healthy, adjusting well to being in the open air and has inherited her dam's color."
While standard Legions were large and powerful, White Legions were slightly smaller, considerably faster, and much smarter. They were favored as personal mounts among the wealthy. Both breeds were now becoming much more common transport since all Magimobiles were without fuel.
"Shall we escort you back, your Majesty?"
One of Simon's men asked, standing straight and respectful. Mystogan kept his expression neutral and polite, wishing absently for his familiar mask again.
"I would prefer to stay with Ciri a little while longer."
And since he was who he was, he didn't hear another word of protest as he returned to the dark, quiet stall where his friend and her baby lay.
-vVv-
The late afternoon sunlight parted the clouds and warmed the air in the main corridor of the barn as Mystogan returned to the stable. He scooped up a shovel full of potatoes, an assortment of feed grain, and put a few raw, rough skinned tubers called taaos into his pocket. They were something between a coconut and a sweet potato, that consisted of a fibrous husk, a starchy, crunchy outer shell and a seed that contained a sweet viscous liquid. Ciri craned her neck out hopefully, sniffing eagerly when she detected her favorite food.
"No." He gently pushed her head aside. "You'll get your treat once you eat the rest of your food. Just a few bites."
She shook her head in protest. But Mystogan began to coax her to eat, watching as her baby started to chew on the remains of the shell that had housed her. Mother Legions would not leave their hatchling to forage for food for weeks until their young could withstand the daily sounds without needing to shelter under their wings. And this habit of generations resulted in a reluctance to eat even after generations of being domesticated. This made them extremely temperamental and mean. Which was a good thing since the bulls had a habit of harrassing hatchlings if they were taking too much of a female's attention.
Mystogan remained absorbed in tending to Ciri and had to scold and correct her as she tried to nibble at the taaos in his pockets again. The hatchling was absorbed with her own meal, eating the shell and membrane that had nourished her throughout her development would give her a small boost of nutrition to strengthen her bones and help her digest proper food. But she needed to exercise for a little while longer before he let her weigh herself down with her first meal.
"Cirrocumulus, you will behave yourself."
He chastised his companion again as she tried to have her tail jostle her favorite food out of his pockets. She clicked her jaws in complaint but ate the rest of her food as he told her to. When he did give her the taaos, one at a time to allow her to savor them, her hatchling smelt the sweet tuber and tried to leap for it, tiny wings flapping into a glide as she made for the treat.
Ciri rumbled a warning and smacked her newly hatched baby down firmly with her tail. The youngster chattered her jaws in mimicry of her mother's own grousing and Mystogan laughed, feeling lighter.
"Karma at its finest."
Here at least, things were still simple.
-vVv-
He lingered until the baby went to sleep curled under her mother's wing. And then reluctantly left to return to the castle. He found Captain Mikas waiting for him. Mystogan wondered for a moment.
What kind of work is he doing that he can afford to just watch over me for several hours?
He fell in just behind him as he made his way back to his quarters. And Mystogan could hear the question he held louder than ever now. They passed at least a dozen subtly positioned guardsmen in various key junctures and corridors. And those were just the ones he could see.
Byro's Changelings were still a problem, otherwise Mystogan would protest the presence of such a heavy guard.
He found Laecel locking up what had been designated as his office space as she was leaving for the night. A sturdy woman of middling height, a mother of three children and former servant of the palace. Mystogan had selected her during his search for an assistant to lighten his load in rehauling the direction of a very large, very unwieldy kingdom where his position had been given entirely too much power and was too used to war.
"All's well?"
She dipped into a small curtsey.
"Yes your Majesty. How are Ciri and her egg?"
"Both mother and daughter are fine."
The woman's somber rounded face broke into a bright eyed beam of joy, lighting her brown eyes with a lively sparkle.
"Her egg finally hatched?"
"She did. That's what she was calling me for. A pretty little white puff just like her mother was."
"Aww, I want to see her! Legion's are so precious when they're tiny."
"Once she's up to meeting strangers, I should be able to arrange that. Have a good night Lacey. I'll take a last look before locking up."
"You as well, sire. Captain."
The woman nodded to Simon as she made her way down the hall, headed home for the evening.
"Come in Captain."
Simon Mikas was competent to a fault. Loyal to people rather than establishments, which could be both a virtue and a vice. Mystogan sensed latent disapproval from the Captain directed towards him.
Simon followed him inside, standing to his full height which was considerably taller than he was. Mystogan didn't sit, nor invite him to. He turned towards him, a single dark eye looking back almost impassively. Only almost. Knightwalker had left her subordinate with a truly horrific scar that cleaved down one side of his face, largely immobilizing it and rendering his left eye milk white, completely blind. He wore his daily uniform, the same one he had worn while safeguarding Edolas's streets under Pantherlily's command in spite of holding a much higher rank.
With the imprisoning of three of the division commanders and Pantherlily having gone to Earthland with the remainder of their magic, Mystogan had been left rather starved for choice to find people to replace their leadership and assume control of the still tumultuous city. Simon had been an obvious choice on the face of it. He had placed men to protect important resources while other divisions threw themselves rather uselessly against Fairy Tail. He made a call that securing a future for Edolas was the wiser course than breaking his men holding onto a stolen resource that they were doomed to lose.
And Mystogan was very certain that this man hated him.
"You have something to address with me. You wouldn't have stayed outside the stable waiting if you didn't."
"You are the king. Your safety is paramount."
The Fairy Tail Mage smiled wryly at the near robotic answer.
"Indeed I am. But not by your choice."
Simon's face had been blank before but it now turned to stone. Betraying nothing about his thoughts.
"The ministers made their choice and you are the only viable heir."
"Captain, unlike so many of the officers who served under King Faust, you remained an officer and were in fact promoted because I deemed you to be an honest man with good character. Speak. I know you have many opinions that you do not voice openly since you want to keep our peace intact. And it is absolutely not the ministers who were the power behind the decision to make me king, even if you asked me the question."
The dark haired man's single eye focused on Mystogan then, and his expression remained impassive.
"The people wanted you."
"The loudest voices in the crowd wanted me."
He corrected, patiently wearing down the man.
"They were the loudest by virtue of their numbers." Simon's shift was a subtle dip in his chin. "There was an unmistakable call for you to take up leadership to lead Edolas into their new era of peace. The people had glorified you as a martyr for almost 7 years. Then you reappeared, you returned from the dead, calling for revolution with an unstoppable army of wizards at your back to overthrow your father's tyranny."
"A pretty narrative that I know was not put together until after the dust settled."
The Fairy Tail wizard didn't let himself touch the mark that still lay over his heart. Fairy Tail's guild mark had faded with the ethernano fully being withdrawn from Edolas but it was still there. It still stood for his promise that every Fairy Tail member had engraved in their soul.
No matter how far away. I'll always be looking your way.
But Simon Mikas was before him. Not Mikazuchi.
"No. It was presented because the truth would have caused more unrest. That you were not coming back as a returning prodigal, but an invader. You intended to leave Edolas desolate, without a scrap of magic power, or effective leadership."
"That is correct."
Mystogan let his stare intensify. Harden with the fury that he had felt upon seeing his city, his guild, wiped off the map. He had not hesitated to go to war. To reclaim if possible and avenge if not.
"You accepted the role of king despite not holding the people of Edolas as a priority. You were here as a citizen of Earthland retaliating against the Anima."
Mystogan hummed, one finger tapping on his desk behind him.
"Close. Not wholly but close."
"You are competent. You were trained to assume this role for half of your life. And your time away only seems to have made you more capable."
The admission sounded bitter but genuine. Mystogan didn't smile ruefully as the residual dislike he suspected had been growing there over the last few months.
"But?"
"But all of your actions were to benefit Earthland. Bringing peace to Edolas is a just a minor positive outcome. You've converted fully to their side. Faust was a madman. He had to be stopped. The system he created did more harm than good. But his actions were all to make Edolas strong."
"Edolas, yes. But not its people."
The young king said mildly, watching the commander in chief of his army and personal security detail cut off his irritation and reigned himself in again.
"No. Not Edolas's people." Captain Mikas ground out reluctantly. "He built his throne higher. He didn't elevate his people along with him. You however, have done just what he never did. And are caring for all Edolas's people. Not just yours."
"Having everyone I would be biased in favor of in another world does make being a fair administrator easier."
Mystogan agreed. He saw Simon's brow twitch at the candid admission.
"You at least don't advertise that fact."
"I know better than to do that."
"You would do it anyway and not lose a wink of sleep over it if you wished."
This was said flatly, but Mystogan thought there might be a hint of admiration in his voice.
"If you feel something is right, you do not hesitate, or second guess your stance. You heed advice, but you are not changeable or easy to sway as you have no one to please to keep your position."
The young king did grin at that.
"You sound like you wish I gave you more reasons to dislike me."
"My like or dislike of you, or any of my leaders is of no consequence."
The soldier's face was closed again. Vanished under a mask of duty.
"And that is why you are in the position you are in now." Mystogan said with a nod. "Thank you for speaking your mind, Captain. I will be relying on that trait of yours in the future."
-vVv-
5 months after the Liberation
Mystogan tried very, very hard not to massage his temple, pinch his chin, or in any way convey his exhaustion.
A fairly major consequence of what was now being called the Liberation, was the disappearance of the Exceed nation. And Edolas's state religion had literally gone up in smoke as a result, bringing another layer to the unrest they had to deal with that was not easily resolved.
There were the particularly devout who still wished to pray to the Exceed queen, Shagotte. But Mystogan couldn't hear the word Exceed without seeing Happy. And the thought of worshiping the blue feline was unbearable. His ego would have been impossible to tolerate. He wanted people to pray for something that had a chance of working. And he couldn't in good conscious support a religion he knew to be entirely false either, so the dilemma remained.
The crisis of faith that the city of Faustian had been facing had been forestalled on the surface by focusing on securing enough supplies for the winter. But with spring now approaching and the winter harvest of the warmer climes being spread throughout the still frozen regions, the much loved spring festival was approaching. Introducing a new state religion in conjunction with all the other changes he was planning implementing would go better if he combined it with a celebration or festival.
'Better' but it will be far from easy. And a large step up from worshiping the Exceed
The discussion had been ongoing for hours now. There was a zealous baron who had gotten his position partially through the church, so he was all for maintaining the order as it was now. However, a former bishop had been radicalized after the truth of the Dragon Chain cannon came out and changed his stance very drastically to against keeping the old way of worship. Mystogan was still waiting for him to tip his hand about what angle he would be pursing.
"Mr. Golgis, if you are advocating for a change to the religious practices of the land, I hope you have an alternative. I care little for religion as long as the practice aids its worshippers in living law abiding, fruitful lives and practices the charity and kindness that it preaches."
Baron Renete turned red since his retort to the ex-bishop's heretical speech was cut off and derailed now that the king had added his voice. But no one would call him out on his borderline rude behavior. Mystogan could do whatever he wished, even months after the revolution. People fell silent when he changed his posture. Every move was closely scrutinized and interpreted to the utmost degree.
It's not going to last forever, so it's best to get something of this importance settled before people stop being afraid of me and start questioning everything that I do or command.
"I do, your majesty. I have definitive proof that the Church of the Heavenly Messengers was corrupt and misguided."
That will be difficult considering the church was hardly pure or holy in the first place. The whole thing was a con to keep the royal family from harvesting the Exceed.
Pantherlily had confided this to him when he was still young, and Mystogan had faithfully kept that secret. He could slow the use of the anima in world, but he didn't wish to be the one to make the jump to using living beings to get their ethernano.
"Present your case and it will be evaluated."
He did not especially want to listen to Golgis's rhetoric. But he also didn't want him loose in the city inciting anger from the still faithful zealots and potentially causing riots. That would be asking for a changeling to transform and turn the street preaching into a ready-made martyrdom. Additionally, the more of a following he got, the more pressure there would be to capitulate to keep their fragile peace. Mystogan was determined to keep ahead of this man's ambitions. And it was ambition that was driving him, not faith, no matter what he preached.
The man's eyes were aglow with a fervent light of glee at being able to present what he was so passionate about. He first scurried around the council chamber to set up a presentation, on a large pad of paper rather than a lacrima projection as it might have once been.
"In the face of the Liberation earlier this year, we witnessed a number of faith crises..."
-vVv-
Mystogan remained focused on the presentation as Mr. Golgis laid out his conclusions as to how the Exceed Nation had lied about their divine authority. The fact that they fled rather than defending their city from assault, how easily they were trapped in lacrima, just like mortal wizards. He got a lot of it correct for all that he did not have the complete story.
He shifted his weight in his chair slightly and saw the man quickly note the movement and hurry on. He had done his best to make it perfectly clear that he despised the Anima's use and mourned the lives it had claimed. He wanted to have a memorial made for them. He was going to propose it be revealed on the anniversary of the old regime's downfall.
But what was Mr. Golgis's proof? The fact that certain people had seen a man with tawny hair and distinctive features fighting alongside the Fairy Tail mages.
The comparison was with a hand drawn sketch and a large, carefully reprinted page from an ancient manuscript from the oldest records of the church.
Loke. Mystogan felt a throb in his temples and he fought to not sigh. History never was my best subject and it's been long enough... Damn it. I forgot about this.
The original Church of Heavenly Messengers was based around the worship of the Celestial Spirit King and his 12 Heralds, known in Earthland as the Zodiac. The last known sign of one of the Heralds had been, if he recalled correctly, Scorpio. It was before the overuse of the Harvesters brought on the total loss of usable ethernano in Edolas. It had been at least 400 years since a new confirmed sighting since then.
Golgis was citing this as proof that the Lord of Heavens had called Edolas's people back to the fold. The First Herald, the Herald of the Sky, was known throughout history as the forerunner of new, important events. And Mystogan would admit he was a very persuasive speaker. He was swaying maybe a quarter of those listening who had not already been inclined to listen to him.
So now my choices are to keep a system that worships Happy and his species. Or base a religious revival on the fact that Lucy just so happened to summon Loke out of all of her spirits in front of everyone.
"Mr. Golgis, a great deal of your proposal is based on the coincidence that this man was sighted."
One choice was incorrect in every way, the other was a bit less bizarre but it did mean that he would have to attend festivals that practically deified someone he knew personally and knew first hand had plenty of flaws.
"Respectfully your majesty, it cannot be a coincidence that the First herald was seen on the same auspicious day that Edolas was freed from centuries of warmongering."
The words made several of the council members exchange looks as Mystogan sat forward.
"You have given a moving testimony, sir. But I have not yet heard anything about this revitalization that is worthy of imperial sponsorship over the existing practices." He raised a hand to cut off a retort from the man before he could speak again. "I will not disparage your faith, or deny what you saw. Earthland knows the First Herald as Leo of the Zodiac, and I was privileged to call him a friend for several years while I lived among them. I am looking for a faith with practices that will benefit the people that follow them. Spiritual fulfillment can come from any number of places, but I am most invested in supporting a cause that will support the people."
Mystogan did see that there were a number of alarmed looks being traded as he said this. Golgis skipped to the part of his presentation that contained what he was looking for, daily worship duties of members as well as the moral alignment. So he assumed the message was received and didn't give it much more thought.
About two hours after the meeting concluded, Mystogan was heading down to visit Cirri and her hatchling, Nim. Captain Mikas swooped in like a large dark bird of prey.
"Your majesty, can you provide some insight as to why the religious quarter has lost their collective minds?"
"We didn't even make a decision today about a state religion."
"I think that choice has been taken out of the hands of the government." The man's single dark eye was shadowed and he already looked exhausted. "Golgis left the palace and went straight to a park to make a public proclamation of the Lord of Heavens choosing you as the next ruler and sending you the First Herald as a mentor while you were absent from Edolas."
"Loke was not my mentor, we were guildmates and friends."
"That distinction matters little to a city that is going through a prolonged religious crisis. And then they hear that a central figure of an old faith was personally acquainted with a ruler they chose and still practically worship."
Mystogan considered for about three seconds what he should do. Obviously Golgis was not nearly as community minded as he tried to seem. He was taking words he said in a private council setting and twisting them to push his end goal.
"Mr. Golgis withdrew from the priesthood voluntarily, so he cannot take up a new rhetoric just because it suits him. But that part we cannot deliver any consequences for..."
Religion and state authority was being divided. The church would have to perform their own investigation to stop Golgis but that wouldn't give them the chance to halt his speech and thereby his chance to rebuild a public reputation as a religious figure. But he was making a big deal about this reformation of the church as if the council had made a decision already. He did want to visit Cirri, but...he hadn't taken her flying in a while. And trying to shut the man up with foot soldiers would result in a riot.
"Captain, if you would mobile a few Legion, I believe we need to remind Mr. Golgis that council discussion is held in confidence until a decision has been made."
"Your majesty, he has gathered an immense crowd, and even bringing in Legion could spark a riot ."
"Not if I'm the one leading it. If he wants to try and cite my name as being divinely inspired, he'll have to back down or else contradict himself in front of his followers. Where do we stand on the analysis of his financial records?"
He'd have preferred to wait until that process was completed to arrest the man. But Captain Mikas surprised him.
"It was completed just as the meeting closed." He handed over a neatly secured packet of pages with handwritten spreadsheets of income, outgoing expenses and surveyed assets. "As you suspected. He was pocketing more than three times his share of the tithes, and lowering his spending on behalf of the church by striking under table deals with businesses."
Mystogan felt a flicker of old excitement as he flipped to the neatly written summary of Golgis's financial records.
"Your forensic accountant is worth their weight in gold."
"A fact both she and I are aware of."
Mystogan read the summary, finding it concise, informative and damning for the man who likely thought he had a way to become the new head of the church.
"Is Gajeel ready with the evening paper?"
"The printing is completed and awaiting distribution."
He chuckled, closing the file and tucking it under his arm and moving towards his quarters at a brisk walk.
"Thank you for your help, Captain. I'll need to borrow a guardsman's uniform. I should be ready shortly to handle the situation."
Cirri would appreciate the chance to spread her wings now that her hatchling, Nim, was more able to cope alone. And she was nice and distinctive.
A part of the performance I don't mind. At least this could give me the chance to crack some heads if any of his lackeys get stupid.
-vVv-
2 years After the Liberation
He knew intellectually that she probably was there. Somewhere. Jellal and he shared identical facial features. Erza and Knightwalker could probably have used each other for mirrors to apply make up. The irony of Simon and Captain Mikas both missing the same eye had been bitter more than anything. As well as reading the report of upstanding citizen, and advocate of Fairy Tail, Count Gildarts Clinton dying due to massive blood loss after an unknown beast tore off his arm and leg.
Mystogan had been lucky thus far that he hadn't come across Terra Faerun. Edolas's answer to Celeste Faerun.
I know it's not her, but-
But he would never be able to forgive himself if he walked away from this sight right now.
The girl was huddled in an alcove, head pressed into her knees as though she wanted to curl into a tighter and tighter ball until she just disappeared. The occasional shake went through her shoulders. Evidence of dying sobs. Mystogan pulled out a handkerchief, a habit enforced by years of royal courtesy and upbringing.
"Are you alright, miss?"
Her head snapped up, tears still on her cheeks and eyes overbright and red. Her face flushed slightly. Recognition. She knew who he was.
"Oh, uh, your majesty! Uh- I'm fine!"
"You know, a friend of mine told me about what it means when a woman says she's 'fine',"
He stayed outside the alcove, careful not to box her in, but he reached in and offered her the kerchief. Terra gave a watery smile as she accepted it.
"Frantic, insecure, neurotic and emotional?"
"That's it."
Mystogan settled down outside the alcove, letting her compose himself. He heard a shuffle as she came forward out of hiding, offering back his handkerchief.
"You sure you won't need it?"
The girl gave a shrug.
"I just won't make the same mistake and I'll be fine."
"May I ask what you think you did wrong?"
Mystogan didn't feel disappointment with how she subtly shied away from the question. It was uncomfortable for her and she didn't know if she could trust him. Seeing Fae's face covered in tears took priority for him.
Terra took a deep, shuddering breath.
"There's this...boy."
Oh dear. Mystogan suddenly had the irrational desire to go cause a perfect stranger harm on behalf of yet another stranger. But he stayed patiently where he was and listened.
Terra told him there was an apprentice guardsman that had caught her eye. She had worked up the nerve, with the encouragement of some friends, to tell him how she felt. And he had...either rejected out right, or not comprehended what she had been asking him. It could be either given they were talking about a teenage boy. And she was crushed as a result, but rapidly trying to put herself back together again.
The image of a hurt child trying to force herself to grow up, as if it would make her wounded feelings less painful, was too similar for his heart to bear. Mystogan listened patiently and planned. It would be a welcome change to have something other than state affairs to apply himself to. He had no intention of playing matchmaker to help Terra secure her crush's attention.
He was going to make him suffer a little. After all, suffering built character and if Terra was going to crush on Sting Cliffside, she would at the very least crush on someone worthy of her attention.
-vVv-
Later that same week.
Sting had initially been bemused when he was informed that the king himself was joining their training sessions. He had naturally heard about the Liberation two years earlier. The senior members of his guard still talked in reverent tones about the sheer capability of the king and his entourage, the Earthland Fairy Tail mages who had come to his aid. He knew that king Jellal was plenty capable.
No one had mentioned that he was a complete sadist however!
"Slowing down already, cadet?"
The boots made a distinctive sound on the poured stone of the courtyard that would haunt Sting's sleep for the rest of his life. He looked up at the king, whose dark eyes were gleaming with focus. He was dressed just like they were. Plain dark shirt, short sleeved. Well made but unadorned gray pants and those boots. Not shiny like an officer, but dusty and well used.
How does he seem to live up to every story?! It's not freaking fair!
"No, sir!"
He snarled, forcing his arms to bend again and complete another push up of the set of 200 that they had been assigned after failing to so much as graze the king in their training. He had 20 to complete for this set and then he would be up to run another 5 laps of the training courtyard and that was just the beginning of their hellish afternoon's penalty game.
As if someone would willingly hit the king hard enough to do damage during sparring!
King Jellal had accepted banishment as a child. But he had still had the character to not only survive, but thrive. He turned Earthland's Fairy Tail into his allies and then led them to storm the capitol and decimate his father's forces. Stories about those mages were still circulating to this day how one of them stood against dozens of well trained soldiers wielding magic weapons and it was the army that broke rather than the mage. How three of them had equaled and destroyed Dorma Anim. And the rumor was: all it had taken was one of them to render the old palace unusable and prevented their armies reinforcements from joining the fight. It had contributed to Faust's defeat painlessly, keeping the army smaller while not dealing permanent harm to anyone.
And the man who Sting now called 'king' had stood among them and fought alongside them on equal footing. Literal superhumans.
"Laps!"
Came the short bark of the drill sergeant for the day, who also happened to be their monarch. Sting was on his feet before he finished processing the order, falling into a jog along the perimeter of the training ground, trying to keep breathing. At least he wasn't suffering alone. Rogue was up near the head of the line and being put through the same meatgrinder of a training session.
I'll find a way to land a hit on you, your majesty. I'm not doing this hell course for the rest of my training!
-vVv-
4 Years after the Liberation
He had been beyond shocked when his young advisor approached him with a request he had never thought to hear. Apparently, Simon Mikas was one of those people who fell into her orbit. Additionally, the forensic expert and the accountant they had been relying on to ferret out corruption in the city officials was also Terra. Though her skills fell into the skilled human category rather than the ungodly perception his apprentice had thanks to her magic.
Or maybe they have equal perception, Fae can just comprehend and assign more meaning to what she sees thanks to Story magic.
He was working to see the Edolas citizens as their own people rather than merely as reflections of those people he knew. But Terra and Fae seemed to be almost perfectly matched, from the up turn of their noses to how they spent their free time.
Terra had come to him last year and asked for permission to visit those who were still prisoners after the Liberation. Sugarboy, Hughes, Byro and Erza Knightwalker among them. He had asked, and Terra had all but confirmed she wished to do this to settle Simon's feelings. She didn't want to get her pardoned or released. She wanted her to be helped to recover her sanity and be deemed competent to stand trial.
"He says it's the last thing he can do for her. She would hate to see herself like this"
And for the old friendship he had once shared with her, knowing that Erza would have been beyond ashamed, he had agreed. Part of him had never imagined he would be in this situation however. Terra had a talent for persuading people. And Knightwalker, Erza, said that she was willing to meet.
No. That she wanted to meet.
So that was how he was standing in the central detention center of Faustian with a young teenager by his side who looked far too at ease here for his peace of mind.
"They are just securing the prisoners' restraints, your majesty. We'll be ready to begin your meeting with her shortly."
The guard likewise just gave Terra a nod as if she was supposed to be here and focused on him. Terra didn't say anything but there was a tiny gleam of exasperation in her eyes. She gave no protest however and Mhstogan made a mental note to have Simon verify that all safety procedures were being followed during Terra's visits.
He could see his one time friend through the observation room window with a pair of wardens moving around her. Securing her chained wrists through a low loop of metal firmly bolted to the table. He was confident that she wouldn't try to attack him again. Terra wouldn't have recommended a talk if she felt that would happen. Once she was seated and her chains secured, Mystogan watched as Terra went in.
And he saw a smile bloom on Knightwalker's face upon seeing her. And Terra returned the gesture.
"How are you feeling today, Erza?"
"Nervous."
The light dimmed from her eyes and she glanced at the window Mystogan stood behind.
"Is he...?"
"Yes. The king is here."
There was a shine of emotion in her eyes as she gazed at the mirror as though she was looking for him despite not being able to see him. But there wasn't any trace of the hatred that had driven her to seek his death so ardently when they last saw each other.
Instead she far more resembled the girl she had once been. Who had always been hyper aware of their differences. After they had become friends but before she got comfortable with him.
"How are we going to do this?"
Erza asked Terra with trepidation. It was strange to see her defer to the younger girl. All her confidence had vanished, her hands weren't trembling but they were almost too still. She was immobilized by her nerves.
"That depends on what you would like to do. I've spoken with his majesty and he has agreed to either of the options we discussed. He can hear what you have to say from where he is. Or he can come in and you can talk to him."
The red haired woman clasped her hands together and thought for a moment.
"I would like to see him."
So that was how Mystogan ended up sitting across the table from Erza with her holding a letter. Terra had explained that she had written the letter because she was nervous about freezing up during the conversation. Brown eyes shifted for a moment before she steeled herself.
There you are.
Erza Scarlet had looked like that before. He had been privileged to see it a few times. Really, he knew the look better on her face than on Erza Knightwalker's. But they both wore courage the same way. She unfolded the letter, eyes dropping down to what she had written.
"'I wish I had the courage to try and tell you my thoughts instead of reading them. But they keep getting tangled whenever I try. I built up so many expectations and fantasies about the kind of person you would have grown to be. I devoted my life to the idea of being your right hand, your friend and confidant. Inseparable by death or distance.'"
Her voice wasn't mechanical. It shook slightly and he could hear the rawness in her tone. It was not spoken from the heart, but it had been written from there.
"How should I react while she is reading this?"
"Honestly."
After years of playing the role of the liberator from a tyrant, did he remember how to react honestly? Not in front of Erza certainly. He thought his expression must still be neutral. Except for a slight down shift.
I once thought the same.
"'Prince Jellal was not supposed to be a Fairy Tail wizard. He wasn't supposed to be proud of being a criminal. I thought you were some kind of imposter. I needed you to be an imposter. Something I could destroy for daring to stand before me, pretending to be my lost friend.'"
It would certainly explain her reaction upon seeing him. She hadn't demanded for explanations or been shocked or appalled. She had just tried to kill him as swiftly as possible. And if his 'death' had played such an important role in shaping her outlook, then him claiming to be Fairy Tail, the people she blamed for Rob's death, would have been especially devastating.
"I don't think it really hit me for a long time that you were who they all claimed you were. It was easier to abandon the belief and hope that you were still alive as my friend than to accept that you had lived to become my enemy."
Erza wetted her lips, voice cracking slightly.
"I wanted you to be alive for so long. It would have been a miracle for you to be alive after seeing the Anima chamber the morning after you disappeared. Even then I held out hope that you were still alive somehow and were simply biding your time. Recovering from your injuries in a safe place. It would have made my grief something that kept you safe rather than pain I had no place for but couldn't ever escape."
I missed you too.
He hoped that feeling showed on his face. Terra had been very clear that interrupting or questioning Erza before she finished would be detrimental to the exercise. And he had missed her. She had been his only friend for a long time. The person he could confide his thoughts in, even the ones that she disagreed with, she would keep in confidence. Stuffing down those feelings and worries had not been easy. Perhaps that was why when he saw Earthland's Makarov, it was so hard to refuse his invitation to join Fairy Tail. He was offering him a sanctuary. A life line. Something to ground himself after declaring himself an enemy to his homeland. (He had known the laws and consequences of wasting magic, but those for meddling with the Anima brought on a conviction of treason, in person or otherwise.)
"The boy I knew grew into a man I didn't recognize. When the truth was that I had changed. For the worse. Everything I was praised and rewarded for by your father I know would be abhorrent to you. The pride I felt in my accomplishments vanished at the thought of you hearing what I had done with my life."
Her hands were white knuckled on her paper and her voice was cracking with effort.
"You became someone I could only have dreamed of. The king Edolas needed. Faust was the master I deserved. And I don't want to associate with his name, or the bloodstained legacy he used me to build. And I will devote the rest of my life to whatever amends I can make for Erza's Knightwalker's crimes."
She set the letter down and her hands came together, the manacles on her wrists clicking softly, clenched around themselves as she let out a long shaky exhale.
To his ear, the words sounded practiced but far from hollow. Erza had tried to pour her heart out onto the page she had offered. But there was still much he felt she was holding back. Likely out of guilt, or a sense of shame. Mystogan looked to Terra for a cue as to how to respond.
"Once she's done, you can give her a response or not."
"What would you do in my place?"
The instructions were simple in theory, and painful in execution. Mostly because it had to go slowly.
"None of this must have been easy for you." He spoke softly, lamenting the tiny flinch she gave in response to his voice. Neither Erza he knew wore fear well. "Coming to these conclusions, speaking them aloud, or saying them to my face. I will think over your words and give them the same care you must have taken writing your letter to me."
Terra had given him options. He could respond right away to her, or put off responding until he had time to mull over his own feelings. The key part here was to not minimize the work she had done to change her own worldview to the point where she could draw these conclusions.
"He never laid a hand on her, but there is no doubt in my mind that Faust and Erza's relationship was an abusive one. One where she had to conform to his expectations or lose the life security she enjoyed in your absence. She's expressed profound guilt accompanying her pride."
Mystogan heard the same thing.
He had a hunch that Faust had somehow personally leveraged his death against Erza, who had been in training to be his guard. If his father spread the story that he had died, the loyal girl she was would have felt horrendously guilty and done everything in her power to try and compensate for the perceived failure.
You are my responsibility too.
Mystogan concluded as he departed the prison, considering his options. Given current public opinion and the razor's edge he was walking to keep that stable enough for his future goals, outright freeing her wouldn't be possible even if Terra deemed her stable enough for society.
"She has spent her life being conditioned to seek approval from authority figures on pain of death. If someone established themselves as an authority figure to her and she doesn't have a strong enough personality or the tools to recognize manipulation, she would very quickly become a danger to herself and others."
Politically speaking, keeping some of the old infrastructure on hand was necessary. People were eager for reform, but they were also creatures of habit and wanted familiarity to hold onto. The happy medium had been to clear out the higher level officials, while keeping as many of their competent underlings as possible. And then gradually, methodically, wiping out additional corruption or supporters of the once warmongering way of life over a longer period. The highest level officials were all being questioned. The military leaders who had worked closest with his father were also receiving counseling. Even his father was getting counseling, though Mystogan had put down a blanket ban on Terra being the one to give it to him. Or for her to be the one to work with Byro.
Though with the progress she had been making with Erza, he would have to find more reasons to forbid it. She was reportedly working her way up to asking to be the one to work with Byro to try and wriggle his most closely guarded Changeling formula out of him. He had allowed her to work with Sugarboy and Hughes. Their reactions to seeing Terra, after their thorough defeat at Fae's hands, had apparently been an interesting one. Including but not limited to Hughes screaming like a little girl in stark terror: 'There's still one around!' His story was one of hundreds of supernaturally strong green haired children and a massive purple snake thrashing him.
-vVv-
6 AL. (After Liberation)
Simon Mikas had grown very tolerant of the king's eccentricities. Most of the guards had. And looking over the distinctly empty office, he concluded this would just be one of those days.
The counsel the king had formed to help manage Edolas was capable of handling many of the decisions that had formerly required the king's input. Now, through delegation, they just needed final approval. The entire system was actually quite efficient. Daily disputes or legal issues were addressed by the community judges. With the matter being escalated to a higher court depending on severity. Building projects, agricultural reports, missives from their subordinate provinces, the information had a clearly defined pipeline it flowed through to reach the king's attention. And a recently refreshed and renovated pipeline with minimal outright corruption. Those bureaucrats that were left were the kind of distasteful that you couldn't ever get rid of entirely.
He looked over the desk, noting its contents were already sorted into their proper place. There was an inventors exposition planned for the alchemical and engineering innovations. A few plays and musical performances had been proposed. A tentative schedule of events that he was outlining. King Jellal could return and pick things up right where he had left off. And the safe that secured all the vital, or sensitive documents was closed and locked. The window was slightly cracked, and he already knew that the king could make his wall down a several story climb with ease and minimal equipment. Simon concluded that the king had decided to take himself for a walk.
He made a habit of it, going out into the city, he might cover his hair or his birthmark, but other days, it was entirely possible for him to just be seen as a regular feature of the city. The absence of his half length dueling staff told him he wasn't wandering around unarmed. But the man worked himself without rest for the country's benefit. No one could begrudge him a moment to not be their king.
Simon quietly closed the window and secured the latch on it.
Initially, any ruler would have looked better than Faust as long as he said the right things and punished the right people. King Jellal hadn't just looked better, he had irrefutably been the best possible outcome for the country as a ruler. Years had gone by after the fact. When the people were hungry, so was he. The palace he now lived in remained modest and tasteful. He had gone out of his way to shun the almost priest like robes that Faust had adopted. The royal stylist had to fight to get him to commission or accept a crown or some kind of ornamentation that signified his kingship.
You can't outrun or deny it, your majesty.
He hadn't even ordered the palace that he now lived and worked in to built. But several of the more prominent citizens who felt a debt towards the king had pooled their resources to build him a residence in the 5th year after the Liberation. In Simon's estimate, Jellal would have been more inclined to remain where he was, living out of a converted administration building. But that was another sign that worried him.
The two guards outside his door didn't appear to be aware that they were keeping watch over an empty room. The trainee, Ryos Chester, could be excused for not noticing, but his senior companion should have at least looked in on the man.
"The King left his office. When did you last have line of sight on him?"
The young guard turned white, while the elder jerked to attention.
"Not some hours ago, General Mikas."
"How many?"
"Less than two, sir."
Chester's words made Simon actively not try to loom over the senior guards man. He would have to issue another shift in the guards training. It seemed the king had figured out the pattern that his guards looked in on him. Again. He honestly thought the man viewed it as a game to evade or bypass his guards. He would have to speak with him once he returned. His insight was often thoughtful and well aimed and invaluable in closing loopholes in the efficacy of his men.
Helpful and courteous, competent and kind. A good king. A king that had rewritten the history books with his victory and prompted the writing of entirely new ones. But for all how reliable he had proven himself to be, Simon still got the feeling that one day he might notice the man's office was empty and would never be able to find him again and he would have no warning about where had gone or if he would ever return.
"You, take up your position inside the office and keep watch in case his majesty returns. Trainee, report his absence to the barracks and get people out looking for him. Discreetly."
Chester threw him a swift salute before racing off to do as he was ordered. The older of the pair did the same, sliding silently into the empty office, leaving Simon to make his way to his next destination. If the king had not gone into the city, there were some places he might go inside the palace proper.
The stables, some servant tunnels, a private sitting room, the roof...
It wasn't as though there wasn't a place for him here. Generally speaking the majority of the citizens adored their king. Jellal had gone on a tour of the entire country, something which took more than a year to complete. Simon had worked with the local leaders to make sure his reputation from the city was spread out to the rest of the land as well. It wasn't difficult given how conscientious he was in caring for Edolas wellbeing, eliminating the factors that held Edolas in a constantly ready state of war and transitioning into an era of peace.
It was futile though. The king would perform his duties exactly, would be unfailingly just and kind. He would weather the occasional assassination attempt, or religious zealot who got it in their head that the king was some kind of prophet. And still, Simon couldn't shake the feeling that Jellal saw all of this as temporary. Just something to fill his time with because what he truly wanted was out of his reach
The times when he was most present and grounded were when he spoke to Terra or a member of Fairy Tail. He hid it well, but Simon had spent practically every day with him.
There is no question, he still thinks of Earthland as his home and of himself as Mystogan rather than Jellal.
He had initially held it against him that he thought of Edolas as a burden. That the people hailed him as a savior when he would have happily overturned their entire society and then abandoned them. The years had softened his stance towards him however. It had helped, in talking with Terra, to think of the two periods of the king's life as him having been two different people.
Prince Jellal had died in the Anima chamber, deconstructing a tool of mass murder that he knew would never be decommissioned by the society he lived in. So he resorted to destroying the root of what he perceived as evil in Edolas and paid dearly for it, sacrificing his home and identity to see it through. But also avoiding the fallout that came after 'saboteurs' cut off Edolas's most coveted resource.
Mystogan of Fairy Tail was the man he knew now. A man who had lived and breathed magic and wonder in a world Simon could only imagine. Family of choice and heart rather than blood or opportunity. Those bonds had lasted the test of time and the separation of more space than could be imagined. They were the reason their king was the man he was today. They had taken him in and he had grown strong among them.
Prince Jellal had known what was right, and done it, but had fled rather than face the consequences or push for the change he felt was needed. Mystogan knew what was right, and while he would have left just as Prince Jellal had, he had chosen to stay now and do the work to minimize the chance of someone such as Faust ever coming to power again. Simon doubted that many knew that 'King Jellal' had only accepted the crown and all the burden of his father's since, because it was the only thing left that Mystogan could do for his family. Make sure Fairy Tail's perception, both their native guild and his friends, were firmly perceived as allies.
Come to think of it, Terra might know where he is.
They had struck up a strange, but sweet friendship. The king was more open and relaxed around Simon's ward than most anyone else. And this would be entirely due to the fact that his apprentice in Fairy Tail was the Earthland version of the girl. His primary anchor of loyalty to them even now. And Terra's view of him.
"You'd have to be a soulless, unfeeling monster to not like someone who can be that genuine with you. Who looks at you and sees...you as your best self."
Every deed that was performed as this empire's ruler was in fact done for the good of Earthland Fairy Tail. And even now, Simon could only be grateful for that strong motivation. With King Jellal to rally behind, those who had wanted to see Edolas change for the better had had the chance to bring that change about. In seven years, the unwieldy conglomerate of conquered nations had become a united, peaceful empire. The same image that Faust and his lackeys had been dangling in front of them for all the years that they had been in power. So regardless of what made their king wake up in the morning, he could not argue with the results.
There was a low murmur of voices from inside Terra's room. A small common room that was used for meetings by a handful of the palace attendants, as well as where Terra kept her accounting desk and the notes on her interviews with prisoners. Simon paused when he heard a familiar voice from within.
It seemed the king had chosen to remain inside the palace rather than wander around outside of it. There was the smell of something herbal and fragrant in the air, so Terra must have invited him to join her for tea.
"-affecting you this strongly?"
Terra had finished asking something and Simon paused to try and glean what the query had been about.
"I think...it is likely because my last memory of it a void." The king's voice was quiet. It didn't shake, but held a quiet introspection to it. "It had been the closest thing I had to a home for years. And I last saw it only after the Anima had swept over it."
Immediately, the accidental eavesdropper felt as though he ought to leave. Right away. This was the sort of discussion that was best left in privacy and confidence. He couldn't believe it had escaped his notice.
The anniversary of the Liberation was upon them. But that same celebration in Edolas was also the marker of their king losing many, many of his friends and the life he had chosen in Earthland. He typically would do any daily work in the main office, but this he had taken to his private one and had the guards stand watch outside of the room. Because that was the only way he could have time to himself as he handled his own grief.
"You know, in our previous discussions, I don't think you ever expressed what the other side of an Anima looks like."
Simon was rooted to the spot, curiosity getting the better of him.
"It looks like nothing." Now there was pain in the king's voice. "Everything that was there, wiped flat and empty. Just a few drifting flakes of ash left. All the buildings. The trees. The water. The people. Just a spot of emptiness several miles across. Tens of thousands of lives turned to so much dust in an instant."
He had given a similar description before. To the scholars who wanted to record as much information as they could about their parallel neighbor. But hearing it like this sounded very different. And having worked with the man for several years now...Simon was certain that there could have been no more horrifying sight than that.
"I didn't realize how many people I knew in Magnolia, not just in my guild. Until I could look over where I could usually find all of them and realize they weren't there."
"What was your first thought?"
"Gratitude."
"Gratitude?"
"My apprentice was especially vulnerable when her internal supply of magic ran low. We were far outside the city limits, running some tests to collect data to refine one of her magic tools. If she hadn't been with me at that exact moment, then she would have been in Magnolia. And that first Anima would have killed her. There wouldn't have been any saving her."
Celeste D Faerun. 'Fae'. Terra had told him of their brief encounter. And from how she had spoken, the two mirror images of each other had shared an instant connection. A mutual understanding that transcended the need for time or words exchanged. His own meeting with her had left an equally lasting impression.
Of course the king had spoken about her when the subject came up. She had left the old palace in shambles. It had taken years to find everything she had done to hinder, annoy and distract the guards and servants from the events outside. People learned not to complain about it when the first time they heard their king laugh was when he stepped into a tripwire activated paint trap that had survived the years.
Simon had always thought of her respectfully and with a bit of fear. It was not normal for a ten year old child to be capable of that much rampant, but not harmful destruction. Let alone being able to defeat two trained, capable soldiers with unique, difficult to counter magic weapons.
Hearing this from the king was changing his perspective though.
What if it had been Terra who almost died? How would I go about dealing with those who would have been the cause of it if they were now under my influence?
The answer was abrupt and overwhelming and Simon quietly took up a position just down the hall to contemplate his musings and leave the king to his conversation.
He emerged about twenty minutes later. He did not look refreshed, but he looked more focused.
"General."
"Sire."
He dropped into a slight bow and fell in at the young monarch's elbow as he made his way back to the office he had abandoned.
I would not be able to do it. What he is doing now. I couldn't justify it.
Simon had met Terra twelve years ago when she was caught trying to swipe half a loaf of bread. Too thin, ragged and obviously starving with hair shorn almost down to her scalp in the typical extreme counter measure for lice among the impoverished. She hadn't spoken like a child. She had instead looked him in the eye, did not defend her actions, and instead recited every violation of law and basic human decency that the orphanage she was living in had committed in her very extensive memory.
Terra hadn't stolen the bread just because she was starving. He didn't doubt she had managed to steal and escape scott free before with how well she knew the city streets. No, Terra had allowed herself to get caught by a young, newly assigned city guard who had enough rookie fire in him to take on the injustice before him. No matter how deeply rooted the issue was.
She had watched, all of 5 years old, and planned, and waited. She had chosen him out of the entire guardhouse to get what she wanted. Just for that one thing, to make life tolerable for herself and the other orphans. He hadn't allowed them to part ways after he saw that task through. Because even the absence of his baby sister hadn't stopped his drive to protect children. And Terra, too used to fending for herself, was someone who didn't trust anyone to want to protect her. Simon had spent years proving her wrong and now she was firmly enmeshed in his life. He had kept quiet for years, and worked to hide her involvement with the newspaper that his superiors detested and feared so much. She found ways to be joyful in her circumstance and remained an irrepressible force of nature.
His brief encounter with Fae had told him that the girl, impulsive, powerful and cheeky though she was, was just as easy to love as Terra. Two peas in a pod. If they had gotten the chance to hang around each other and work together, Simon didn't doubt that the effects would be felt for decades afterwards.
He would have torn the guilty party apart with his bare hands if they had hurt Terra. Even the threat would have seen him subtly ensuring that the threat of harm wasn't even a possibility. King Jellal...
No, Mystogan. That's all Mystogan.
If Fae had died in that initial Anima, the Liberation would be named something far more brutal and ruthless. And recovery from it would still be ongoing, if there was anything left to try and recover. Because Fairy Tail's wizards would have been out for blood. The indignity. The audacity of the enemy nation, reducing their beloved child to their lights being on for a few hours. To a machine that could plow, and seed a field. To a blacksmith's automated bellows smelting weapons for the army.
Simon suspected that the man who was now written in the history books as Mystogan the Benevolent, would have made himself a butcher of his former nation if his child had become a casualty of the Anima. And those kinds of feelings did not just go away. In fact, around anniversaries, they could easily resurface.
"I hope your talk gave you what you needed."
The king's steps didn't falter. His gaze remained resolute and turned forward.
"Some of it. Not all."
-vVv-
7 AL, during the spring.
Mystogan was highly attuned to changes in his surroundings. Even after years of relative peace, his body never quite forgot the reflexes needed to defend himself at a moment's notice. So when he heard a strange chime, he was already rolling out of bed, reaching for the knife kept by the bedside.
I know that sound. A Celestial Spirit?
He had not heard it often given the rarity of Spatial Magic users who also had the necessary Carrier type magic, and the good standing with the spirits to contract with them. He did wonder as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of his room if he wasn't just having some bizarre sort of lucid dream. He fumbled for the lamp by his bedside. But there was now light in the room, streaming from the hand of someone he...knew.
"Loke?"
His hair was a little longer and more intensely colored, he wasn't wearing his glasses, or his typical jacket, rather a sport coat and elegant slacks. But it was without a doubt him. The Lion of the Zodiac gave him a grin, lighting tossing a sphere of his warm, golden light into the air to light the room making Mystogan blink at the contrast.
"Loke, is that you?"
His guildmate said nothing and merely looked to the side. He could only see now that there was light and his eyes had adjusted, but the Golden Spirit had not come here alone. A tall, slender figure only a little shorter than Loke, releasing his hand from the journey. An oversized shirt, barefeet. Sleepwear. Light blue green hair that fell half way down her back.
The knife he had grabbed landed on the carpet with a soft thump.
Please don't let me be dreaming.
Eyes the color of magic, holding their own glow and a few tears.
"Hello, Mystogan."
