Well, Navio Furune – the man who had originally been presumed to be the ringleader in the whole Alchemist debacle – was murdered. In his home. Which, supposedly, was supposed to have all the sort of protections that an active Magic Council representative "deserved," whatever that meant.
Ironically, Mercury wasn't surprised in the least. Neither was almost anyone who knew the details of the situation. The rest of the guild, however, was in an uproar – many cried foul play, which wasn't technically incorrect; the man's body had been discovered several days after he had actually died with his lungs filled literally to the point of bursting with water, a sure sign that someone had been involved.
When Laxus exasperatedly asked if the water mage had been the culprit, Mercury truthfully said no with a bit of a sardonic smile. Putting water in someone's lungs wasn't something that he'd ever had experience with doing, but he knew he could have done it pretty easily, whether that be through the mouth and throat or some other, more heinous method.
If he had any magic flowing in his body, that was.
Just living was hard enough – why the hell would he go out of his way to travel away from the place that was actively keeping him alive? Even beyond that, when would he have had the time? He was already occupied at almost all times with making sure a certain child wasn't going to stick his fingers in an electrical outlet or something.
Taking care of children was surprisingly hard. Mercury hadn't gotten far enough the first time to appreciate it much.
So, no, Mercury hadn't done it, and even if he had the chance to, it would have been way more of a pain than it was worth. Furune was just a chess piece upon the board that their unknown enemy had laid just as Alchemist was, and when he was no longer of any use, he'd been tossed aside like trash.
What role Mercury himself played in such a plan remained a mystery; he could guess what Furune's goal in it all was, but for the puppetmaster, the only clue they had was that he was one of Mercury's siblings – or, at the very least, related in some way to one. Mercury himself was not entirely convinced.
… Which is why he was in Makarov's office, where it was just himself and the slightly younger man reading over what had been delivered long before dawn that day – several boxes worth of unsorted documents that had been "recovered" (stolen). Mercury hadn't expected to be called in so early in the morning – and neither had Laxus, apparently, who now had the pleasure of making sure that Anemone wasn't going to be a nuisance in his absence.
(An endeavor that would prove fruitless, as the water mage was the only one who could control that boy. After all, he was the only one who could even speak to the boy, even if the kid was already picking up words and phrases from the Fiorean language.)
"Why the hell does Doranbolt give these to you instead of, I don't know, his boss?" Mercury asked Makarov. In his own hands was a folder, and in the folder was a stack of paper covered in more grime than any of the porn magazines he knew Makarov kept under his desk.
Everything that now littered the room had been taken from Navio Furune's office the night prior by their resourceful little council spy.
"Pipe down and help me sort through these," Makarov grumbled. He didn't look too pleased with the situation either – though their councilman target was now dead, the Magic Council hadn't even opened an investigation into it.
On the bright side, they hadn't come to bombard Fairy Tail with interrogation requests either, which was telling. Under normal circumstances, Fairy Tail would have had no reason to be involved with the murder, so they weren't suspects – but if the Magic Council came to sniff around regarding their involvement, that meant they were definitely aware of what Furune had been funding. The fact that they seemed quiet seemed to point to the idea that they truly hadn't known.
Though, that too could be a front. Other than what Mest-slash-Doranbolt was able to tell them, the Magic Council's true goals were still a secret.
From what Makarov and Mercury could gather, Furune's goal in the matter seemed to be money, which, ironically, wasn't something he seemed to be doing well obtaining. While he had provided the original funding for Alchemist's startup, once they became well known and their products became popular, there was no need for his money anymore; they turned their backs on him just as the mysterious ringleader had. Furune was running out of options. His funds were running dry and he only had the money he'd earned through a short, poorly written contract with the guild, putting him in dire straits. In fact, the contract had ended less than four months before the Tenrou Team had returned – meaning that the money he lost at the Grand Magic Games was more than enough to damn him.
Knowing this left two possible conclusions for his murder; first, he attempted to go after the ringleader for money, either by threatening to get in his way or threatening to expose him. Obviously, this didn't work out well. Furune had drowned on dry land. Negotiations didn't turn out how he intended, leading to his demise.
Somehow, that felt like a better conclusion than the other idea Mercury came up with – that Furune had been murdered simply because he was no longer of use. At least if he was making a nuisance of himself, he had a reason to be killed.
That being said, Mercury came up with one other conclusion: Navio Furune was an idiot.
"So, he was planning to build a submarine and travel to the bottom of the ocean? Am I reading this correctly?"
Mercury leafed through several pages of blueprints, some realistic and some entirely fantastical. The gray paper felt almost damp in his hands. It was deeply creased, with dozens of small notes scribbled in chicken-scratch handwriting that was hard to read. Some, he couldn't even make out.
It seemed more like a dream than a goal. A fervent wish that would never come to fruition.
"That is indeed how it appears," Makarov said, a neutral, unreadable expression on his face.
Mercury let out a deep breath. He wasn't sure whether or not it was a good thing that Furune was a bit delusional. "I bet I can guess what his plan was down there. Too bad it wouldn't have worked."
Alchemist, with their success stemming from a dying Mercury, would have paid a premium to get their hands on another sample – probably more than enough to bring Furune back into the folds of their plan again, regardless of cost.
Unfortunately for him, he'd have been obliterated long before he managed to kidnap another unwilling experiment – and what a rancid thought that was.
Makarov's shoulders seemed to droop slightly as he set down his own stack of papers. "These bastards would do anything to avoid responsibility."
"Even die?"
"Especially die. If Furune wasn't killed when he was, someone else who wanted to hide their involvement would have done it soon."
"It's because you're so terrifying," Mercury pointed out. "Who in their right mind would mess with Makarov Dreyar? They were only acting up because you were gone, so now they have to scramble to clean their hands."
After all, they already had one example of what happened to those who messed with Fairy Fail. Even now, it remained a mystery what happened to the remaining Alchemist guild members. Many of those involved seemed to have dropped off the face of the earth not long after the investigation into their guild started, and the biggest players – namely their guildmaster – had made a couple of public appearances before disappearing entirely.
Mercury wouldn't thank Makarov for his role in causing it, if only because he wasn't supposed to know about it in the first place. The guildmaster wanted nothing more for him than to just be free of that period of his life entirely; having to even think about people like Renee Shaleback, who had taken so much from him, would defeat the purpose of going so far.
And with Furune's death, there was only one person remaining to be "erased" – the mysterious ringleader in purple.
"If I knew it was going to make investigating this bad, I would have pretended to be a senile old man for a bit longer," Makarov huffed. "Now I'm stuck going through this crap when I should be retired."
Mercury had heard about the passing of the guildmaster mantle from Laxus – or, rather, the attempted passing of the mantle. The title quickly went from Macao to Makarov to Gildarts back to Makarov, leaving the old man fuming at the loss of his freedom.
Mercury wished he'd been there. The look on Makarov's face would have been delicious.
"I can probably sort through the rest myself," he offered, but he was immediately met with a scowl.
"And let you leave out all of the important parts? No way in hell – there's no point in trying to sweep this under the rug just because you feel it's not important enough to follow up with."
The water mage gave Makarov a somewhat sheepish smile. It seemed he was being seen through far too easily these days, especially when even Laxus, the least emotionally intelligent person Mercury had ever met, was picking up on all of his tells.
No longer could he attempt to keep a secret from this guild. If he tried, they'd probably hound him until he got annoyed, but that was probably for the best.
Secrets weren't going to get him anywhere when he was already dying.
"… if you're going to be so mean about it, shut up and help me finish looking through these."
Mercury ran his one working hand through his short hair before grabbing the papers Makarov had set down moments ago. He wasn't sure exactly what he was looking for – clues, perhaps, to their mysterious opponent's identity, something that would define him as either "human" or "not," or maybe even just a reason for why that man had sought him out in the first place.
Some reason to tell him why he suffered.
In the end, it felt almost fruitless; more than half the documents related solely to Furune's slowly growing debts, and the majority of what remained weren't much better. They located the original contract he had with Alchemist as well as several letters sent with rather famous names tacked onto the end – which Makarov carefully filed away when he thought Mercury wasn't looking.
The only "interesting" thing that Furune had left behind that actually seemed useful were the progress updates Alchemist had sent them in the first year of Mercury's captivity, except they were equal parts useful and horrifying to read. That was the thing about scientists – they could write the most minute, graphic details as though they were casual conversation.
Makarov almost took the files away from him when he saw the look of disgust appear on Mercury's face. Almost, because despite his earlier words, if anyone had the right to keep that sort of thing secret, it was the one who'd experienced it firsthand.
"These are pretty thorough," he commented several minutes after stumbling over the very first progress report – the one that described the short period where they kept him high as a kite just after he'd fallen into their clutches.
It hadn't been in the same hall as the one Mira had destroyed, but it had still been a building under Alchemists's name – the one being used back when they were a small R guild rather than a pseudo-mage guild. All of his memories of the place felt like some sort of fever dream; bits and flashes came to him as he read through page after page of lab reports.
"Don't force yourself to read them," Makarov said, reaching out his hand to retrieve the stack.
"It's fine. They didn't tell me much, so it's actually pretty interesting – I don't even remember half of this stuff."
The more interesting experiments took place much later, and there were records of those as well. Though the timeline remained blurry – it was likely that they didn't tell Furune all of their developments in order to begin to remove him from their projects – they probably happened after Alchemist upgraded their buildings and facilities, hiring new staff that would go along with their insane, inhumane experiments after firing the ones who raised ethical complaints. Honestly, if the subject of the papers wasn't him – wasn't "IHM" – Mercury likely would have found the content of them incredibly interesting. They described a lot of things that he'd long questioned, from how his body worked – it sucked in magic power like a sponge and used that as a generator of sorts – to what allowed him to continuously regenerate as well as he did, which, in the end, boiled down to his cells being cancerous – the reason that his blood was toxic in high concentrations.
A paper describing a particular day in which they'd tried a new type of experiment caught Mercury's eye, and unlike a lot of the other ones, this one he remembered particularly well.
"Hey, Master, look at this," he said, handing off the paper to the younger gentleman. "Isn't this one kind of interesting?"
Makarov gave the sheet a disdainful glare before taking it, as though it was responsible for the contents written on it. It took several seconds for him to read it through, and Mercury could tell when he was done because it crumpled in his fist into little more than a ball.
He sighed. "I didn't show it to you so that you'd get mad – look at the bottom. The last paragraph. I'm not a scientist, but that looks kind of important, doesn't it?"
Instead of unfolding it, the guildmaster merely threw it in the trash can, which was already heaping full. "I'm not reading research done in such a vile manner."
"It's vile, but I think it could give us some insight."
The final paragraph of the paper was dated to several months before the Tenrou Team returned, and it was one of the final experiments that Alchemist's R team had done before simply using Mercury like a blood keg. He remembered it specifically because it was especially tortuous. In their attempts to extend his lifespan and increase the amount of magic in his body – which would hypothetically increase the length of time his blood would be viable – they had tried to force magic into his body through the use of a lacrima.
Of course, magic had never been intended to be transferred that way, and it never would. Phantom Lord's guild master had done something similar way back when, albeit out of a sick sense of enjoyment rather than a scientific pursuit of any kind. Since magic was a kind of energy, if the wavelengths didn't match, it was akin to toxin; trying to insert it into someone's body forcefully was just asking for all sorts of negative side effects unless one could somehow change the wavelength to something they could accept.
Mercury couldn't do that. What was described in the now-trashed paper was the results of that attempt – one that was never repeated, because soon after, he lost the use of his arm entirely, likely from the strain of trying to recover from it.
That, however, was not what Mercury found interesting.
"I had a thought a long time ago," he explained, setting the rest of his papers down on the table. "If that being that created us didn't have a body, then what was she? Sometimes I'd get the feeling that she was just there, surrounding us through the waters, but that didn't make sense – if she was the water, then surely she'd know why I hated her so much. I probably wouldn't have been able to get away in the first place."
"And your point is?"
"What if, instead of having a physical body, she was just a mass of magic? A 'soul,' if you will, with no way to interact other than to watch over us?"
Makarov considered this. "I suppose it's possible. Magic is said to be the true representation of the soul, after all."
"Yeah – and our working theory is that my 'soul' is an extension of that being we called Mother, so wouldn't it be possible, hypothetically, for me to accept that magic?"
If that was the case, there'd be no reason for Mercury's body to reject it – his and Mother's magic were the exact same, and his body was practically made to be a conduit for said magic. He would be able to take it in just as humans took in ethernano from the air.
Surely if he managed to "absorb" Mother's power, he'd be able to recover completely?
"It's possible," Makarov agreed. "There's still a lot we don't know about you – and things you don't know about yourself – but whether it's possible or not doesn't matter, since it's not feasible."
"Right. Mother is located in the deepest depths of the ocean, which I can't get close to unless I want to be destroyed." And besides that, he'd made a promise to Laxus; without the dragon slayer's permission, he wasn't going to be going anywhere near the water. "But I'm not talking about me here. I'm talking about my rogue sibling – what if that's his goal? Absorbing Mother, taking her power. Then what?"
He thought that Makarov was going to outright reject the suggestion, his mouth opening – but he soon closed it, setting down his own handful of paper at the same time. "Do you truly think that's possible?"
"I don't know how likely it is, but I'm pretty sure it's possible. It would probably depend on whether or not he's stronger than her."
Mercury recalled that fateful day when he'd been brought – dragged in front of "her." He'd known she was there much in the same way he could 'hear' Makarov sitting across the desk from him, but when his eyes searched for a physical representation of his hatred he found nothing. There was no "Mother" to be seen no matter how hard he looked, and yet she had somehow been powerful enough to overwrite how his body worked, turning his regenerative abilities into something truly monstrous. Realistically, he couldn't fathom such a creature losing…
… but it was also the truth that it had been almost a century since then.
How much power did it take to keep creating "children?" How much did it take to fuel them, to let them live their own lives with their own personalities, as one-dimensional as they were? There was simply no way that it was a small amount, and while dragons had long been considered myths that formerly devastated the continent, there must have been a limit to it all.
So, really, it also wasn't unrealistic to say that she could lose.
"As much as I hate her, I'd still prefer knowing what creature it is that wields her ridiculous power," Mercury said dryly. "I hope I'm wrong."
Makarov heaved a sigh, lips pressed in a thin line. Ironically, it was then that his shoulders seemed to relax. "Even if that's the case, we shouldn't have any reason to worry about it."
"And your reasoning?"
"Whether or not you're human, there's still a limit to what's possible and what's not. If that being has any sort of will to speak of, it won't just roll over and let someone destroy that will."
Mercury wasn't so sure. "Mother" wasn't a human, so she couldn't be described by human standards. She was a being that saw the being she created as her children no matter how far they traveled, no matter how much they changed from their creator's original vision; in a way, she was exactly like a human parent would be, except she was so full of obsession that she couldn't see anything else.
And that obsession with her children would be her downfall.
It was possible that she might just let her will dissolve. Mercury never got the idea that she was particularly intelligent – smart, maybe, but not truly intelligent. She was like that of a genius that knew all the answers, but couldn't apply a single formula to the world around her because she couldn't see the world around her, couldn't understand it. But, thinking about it, she might be blinded by the appearance of a child she never thought would return – because surely the child that had left the ocean would have been all-but erased from the minds of the ocean's childrens just as Mercury had.
He wondered if she ever forgot her wayward children. A pit of something – dread, maybe – formed in his stomach like a shard of ice.
"I wonder about that," Mercury said after a long pause. "We don't really know all that much about dragons – they're pretty weird, all things considered. Maybe I should ask Natsu for his thoughts."
As if on cue, a shriek rang from the guild's main hall, belonging not to Natsu, but to another of the three Dragon Slayers – Gajeel. "Damn brat! Don't just touch people there, you fuckin' weirdo!"
It was followed by a loud crash and the roar of several others downstairs. Mercury didn't have to be a genius to be able to guess what had happened – or, rather, who else was involved; there was exactly one person staying with the guild who might have been both interested in and unfamiliar with Gajeel enough to get close and… touch him in a weird spot.
"... Perhaps it's best to focus on making sure that child doesn't drag himself into any more trouble," Makarov commented dryly. "In times like this, you should focus on what's in front of you rather than a mere possibility."
His words didn't exactly ease the worry in Mercury's stomach, even if he was right – though there was a second crash, this one somehow louder, and he knew he really should go make sure that Anemone wasn't going to get himself beat up by an angry dragon slayer.
(As though Gajeel would risk going against Mercury in that way.)
"I really am not meant for dealing with kids," he commented with a heavy sigh, standing from the desk.
"That's not what I heard from Macao. What's this about you being the one to make sure that Romeo's magic instructor wasn't some random fiend?"
The water mage flushed, turning away. "I just wasn't going to let him get taught fire magic by a weirdo. Totomaru's the most normal of the former Phantom Lord gang, you know."
… considering that Aria cried at the slightest provocation, Juvia spoke in third person, and Sol was missing, that wasn't saying much.
"Sure, sure. Get going before that brat destroys this building a second time – we may have money now, but I'm not fond of the idea of spending it on rebuilding again," Makarov said. As Mercury started to leave, shrugging slightly in response, the guildmaster added, "Let me know if anything seems off. We'll deal with it then."
"... Okay. Let me know if you start going blind from those dirty magazines that you're going to start flipping through the moment I leave."
Something slammed into the wall a couple of feet from Mercury's head – the stapler.
He got the message and hurried out with one departing finger.
.
.
.
"Do you want something to drink?" Mira asked, but Mercury shook his head. He was already amped up enough from chasing Anemone around to be dreading the thought of any more caffeine, and honestly, he wasn't certain that his stomach was stable enough to keep anything down anyway.
Despite Makarov's words, his stomach still felt like a bottomless pit.
Still, the barkeep set a glass in front of him with a gentle smile.
"Thanks," Mercury said. He took just one sip before setting it down, intent to leave it there.
Laxus was already gone, off on some self-proclaimed quest to get groceries or something to that degree, so it was just Mercury and Mira at the bar. The Thunder God Tribe was loitering around; perhaps they'd sensed that Mercury's mood was somewhat turbulent, so they weren't bothering or pestering him for once – or, more specifically, Bixlow wasn't bothering him, and Evergreen and Fried were simply trying to keep the man somewhat distracted.
Fortunately, it was also the middle of the day, so it wasn't too loud anyway. Gajeel and his group had left not long after being separated from the small child of the ocean – a group that consisted of himself, Levy, and their two stalkers (Jet and Droy) who were simply trying to make sure the former didn't harm the latter, to Mercury's amusement. Meanwhile, Anemone was now at the opposite end of the bar with a picture book, occasionally asking questions of Mercury and Mira; even though he was a kid, he was soaking up knowledge at an uncanny speed.
Though there was no written language under the ocean, Anemone seemed to be getting the gist of the book. At the very least, he was starting to associate simple pictures with both the Fiorean term and the one of their native tongue, if there was an equivalent. Out of the corner of his eye, Mercury watched the boy leaf through pages. He spent several moments on each picture, comparing the image and the description with the scrap of paper Mercury had scrawled the Fiorean alphabet on to.
That thin piece of paper was already crumpled and worn down from how many times Anemone had pulled it out of his pocket. The kid was truly smart and intent to learn – a combination that, as far as Mercury knew, was a rarity even among human children.
It was still rather amusing to see a kid wearing those same sunglasses that Mercury had been wearing for weeks staring intently at a book that was almost bigger than him.
Actually, it was just interesting to see him look like any other little kid. If not for the green scales on the backs of his hands, he'd have looked like someone of Romeo's age.
"He's rather energetic, isn't he?" Mira commented, looking down at Anemone. "Almost the exact opposite of you."
"He's a nuisance is what he is. Do you know how many times I've had to stop him from trying to run out into the street today alone? It's like he wants to get run over."
"Aww, he's just curious. Everything is just new to him here. Weren't you like that the first time you started learning about humans?"
Mercury remained silent, pursing his lips. The only responses he could give would either be a lie or admitting she was right, and he didn't particularly want to deal with her response to either of those options – and since he was apparently unable to lie well anymore, both would probably result in him getting teased.
It still seemed like Mira knew the answer.
"It must be odd to suddenly have a little brother that you hardly know anything about," she said. Her torso leaned over the bar as she rested her head on her hand. "I can't imagine if Elfman suddenly appeared one day. I'm not sure what I'd do."
"Isn't that basically what happened with Lisanna?" Mercury pointed out.
"Hmm… No, I'd say that's different. Lisanna wasn't really all that different when she returned from Edolas with us, just a little bit more mature."
Mercury wasn't sure if "mature" quite described the girl, but he just nodded and went along with it. "Well, we may technically be brothers, but we're really just strangers connected by blood. Or body, or something like that..."
"You don't mean that," Mira said, frowning. "I can tell you really care about him, even if you think it's awkward."
Again, he stayed silent. Was there a proper response to that? He himself wasn't sure if he really cared about Anemone or not – it was true that he thought of the boy as a nuisance fairly often, but it wasn't false if he said that he felt something stir in his chest at the sight.
Honestly, maybe he was just thinking of Marissa when he saw Anemone.
They weren't anywhere near the same age, nor were they even the same gender or the same skin tone – if you could consider Anemone's green scales "skin." Really, the only similarity between the two was their blue hair – a similarity that linked them both to Mercury in the same way, and yet something about the younger boy made his chest feel like it was throbbing.
It was almost terrifying. He didn't want to be interested in any of his kind anymore; he didn't want to be linked to them, either through blood or through any sort of familial relationship.
After his long silence, Mira hastily added, "It's best to take this sort of thing slow. Feel it out, you know? You might even think of him the same way you do Romeo."
"Maybe," Mercury said noncommittally. They might not even have that much time together – he had no idea what was going to happen when everything finally got resolved, but there was no guarantee that Anemone would even remain on the surface.
He might prefer living with his kind far more than living among humans.
The water mage traced his fingers around the rim of his glass, observing how his fingertips absorbed the water like a sponge. Not even he knew where the future was going to take him; how could he possibly know what the future was going to do for Anemone?
"In any case, you do look like you've been feeling a bit better since he came along," Mira said.
"I do?"
"I think so, at least. You used to look like you hadn't slept in days, but now it's much more tame – like you just need a nap and you'll be good to go."
"Is that why you said Anemone and I are opposites? Because I look like I'm tired?" Being tired wasn't exactly a surprise when you were technically dying, just very slowly.
"Maybe," she mirrored, albeit with a much more humorous tone. "For the record, I think it's a good thing that that boy came along. Even if it hurts a little bit, being exposed to that sort of thing is one of the first steps of healing. It's not going to get better if you keep running from it."
"Time heals all wounds," Mercury responded idly.
Mira didn't like that response much. She sat up, placing her hands on her hips. "For someone who is so old, you don't seem very healed to me."
Ouch.
"What if I was like this from the beginning?" Mercury asked.
"What, mopey? I somehow doubt that. You're fine when you're hanging around Laxus and his crew – it's when you're alone that you get this odd look on your face."
"Mopey…" he repeated. "Is that how I seem?"
"Only sometimes." There was a hint of a smile on Mira's face, so Mercury took the response in stride. Even he could admit that yes, sometimes he found himself reminiscing about the past, which put him in a somewhat sour mood – and honestly, who could blame him? Living a long life meant that the burden of memories was far heavier than that of those with shorter lifespans; for some, that meant a longer lifetime of happy memories, but Mercury hadn't always had that.
Of course, he was far happier now than he ever was in his life. Even if he was technically dying, he still felt more at peace here in Magnolia with everyone than he had ever felt before. If only he could overwrite the bad memories completely with these happy life days…
In the end, he didn't end up voicing any of that. He was sure that Mira already knew – that all of them already knew. He wasn't exactly subtle.
He ruffled his own hair as though trying to change his mood. The conversion he'd had with Master Makarov was still lingering on his mind somewhere in the background, though he didn't think anything could really get his mind off of it; it was something that was going to weigh him down regardless of the man's less-than-gentle reassurances.
One did not just predict the path the future would take just to forget it.
"I need some fresh air," Mercury said, though he didn't actually move to get up. "Is it just me, or is it kind of hot in here?"
"That's why I gave you the water. Your face does look a little red. Are you perhaps getting sick?"
"Wouldn't be surprised if I was. I bet my immune system is running the bare minimum right now – anything it can to keep the rest of me going."
Mira frowned again, eyes sad. "We'll figure something out."
If it were four years ago, he'd have cracked a joke – something along the lines of, 'well, we're running out of time, so hurry it the hell up,' but it wouldn't have done anything other than sour the mood. He also was not that type of person anymore; he could tell just how much it hurt the people around him when he casually spoke of his own death or even of his life in the past, and as such, he often kept those comments to himself these days.
There was no point in making the people around him sad. If it came to that end… they'd already be sad enough.
"Just waiting over here for you guys to figure something out," he said finally, resting his head on the bar counter. Small droplets of water trembled on the surface at the movement, shivering as a man who could once control them eyed each and every one. "When we get this shit with my potential sibling figured out, I'll start telling Laxus to go find lacrima for me or something. That's the only viable solution I've come up with."
Because the one where he traveled to the bottom of the ocean and fought a mystery man for control over Mother's magic power was even more fantastical than any of Navio Furune's delusions.
Mira pursed her lips as though she were going to scold him, but instead, she changed her expression into a practiced smile. Perhaps she, too, knew that being upset about the whole situation wouldn't change a thing.
At the end of the bar, Anemone suddenly stood up with his picture book in hand, nearly jolting Mercury out of his seat. The boy shoved said picture right into the water mage's face, giving him no chance to move out of the way.
"What's this?" the small boy asked, eyes sparkling.
On the page was a picture of a bird – a peacock. Its feathers were spread out vibrantly onto a two-page splash art of the animal, vivid enough that Mercury almost thought it might jump off the page at him. The peacock's head was a vibrant blue, while the body was a far softer green. The color almost matched Anemone's scales, which was probably why he was so drawn to it.
"That's called a peacock," Mercury explained gently. "In Fiorean, it's pronounced 'peacock.' Can you say that?"
Anemone struggled with the pronunciation for a moment, opening and closing his mouth right when Mercury thought he was going to actually try to say the word. He seemed to have a hard time with the sound of the letter "p"; after several seconds, he attempted to pronounce the word, but it came out as a garbled mess.
Mira laughed vividly, suddenly switching her attention from Mercury to his brother. "It's pea – can you repeat it after me? Pea."
Anemone looked towards Mercury for guidance; he shrugged. "She says to repeat it with her."
"Ah." The boy's eyes went wide, gleaming in his quest for knowledge. After several seconds, he tried again, mimicking Mira's mouth movements. It came out a lot better on this second try, but there was something that remained off about it, like an accept the boy couldn't quite shake. His voice was far rougher when trying to speak the language of the surface than it was while speaking the one he was more used to.
Mira gave him a pleased smile. "Good boy," she said.
Mercury flinched at the words – they brought up something painful in his stomach.
"This bird is pretty!" Anemone exclaimed, unaware of Mercury's discomfort just as Mira was. The boy traced his finger around the image's outline, circling the 'eyes' of the peacock's tail feathers with exceptional care. "Can I go see one?"
"They don't live around here. I think. I've never seen one, at least."
"Then can we go searching for one?"
Mercury snorted. "Only if you tell me why Wake sent you up here. I can't leave until I figure it out."
(Well, really, he couldn't leave either way, but Anemone didn't know that.)
"I already told you I don't know!"
"Then no, we can't go see any peacocks." He also didn't know the first thing about a peacock's habitat, nor did he have any fucking clue where they might live. Were they even in Fiore?
What sort of picture book was this, anyway?
"He looks really interested in those birds," Mira commented somewhat dryly.
"You know how kids are – they see something shiny and suddenly they're obsessed. I'm sure he'll forget the word for it quickly enough."
"I'm not so sure about that…" she trailed off, watching the boy with practiced elder sister eyes.
"Hey, Brother –" somehow Mercury had missed himself being called brother the first time – "aren't its scales pretty? They're shining!"
"They're not scales, they're called feathers – all of the birds have them here. If you sit quietly outside and wait, you should probably be able to find one."
"I can? Will it be as pretty as this one?"
"No. And besides, only the male peacocks look like that. Females are just sort of gray."
That seemed to disappoint Anemone. His shoulders slouched, fingers curling around the page. "Oh," he sighed, "only the males?"
"Yes," Mercury confirmed.
"I see… I was thinking that these peacocks were pretty for the same reason that Eldest Sister was."
This time, the water mage flinched so violently that even Mira noticed, shooting him a concerned look. If his stomach hurt before, now it was like a stormy ocean had somehow appeared within his intestines.
How was it that both Mira and Anemone could evoke the same reaction from him, stemming from the same source, within five minutes of each other? Honestly, it was a bit appalling – the two were on the same wavelength without even noticing it.
"Are you alright?" the former asked when Mercury said nothing at all.
He put a hand in front of his mouth as though to stop anything from spilling out. While he doubted he'd throw up, it wasn't an exaggeration to say that his throat felt like it closed up a fraction of the mere mention of their Eldest Sister.
Yes… that woman. He'd managed to avoid thinking of her for the longest time. Perhaps thinking about his siblings had brought the memories to the surface.
"I'm fine. He just reminded me of someone I don't like thinking about."
Mira made a noise of understanding. "One of your brothers?"
"For once, no. She's…." Mercury swallowed around a lump, taking a brief glance at Anemone, who was staring at him with curious eyes. "She's an older sister of mine. Not one of my favorite people, as you can probably imagine."
That heat he'd been feeling in the guild hall seemed to intensify, freezing his limbs in place.
It was rather ironic, wasn't it? Mercury had siblings that had tortured him, killing anything that would have linked him to the surface because of their selfish desire for unity, and yet the only one that terrified him to his very core… was his sister.
He still remembered those words she ingrained into his brain. 'Younger brothers are supposed to listen to their older sisters.'
"Do you have a lot of sisters?" Mira asked, clearly trying to find a quick distraction – one that only half worked, because once brought up, those thoughts wouldn't just disappear.
"Quite… a few. It's probably like fifty-fifty?" He said, attempting to give in to said distraction. "Gender and sex don't really hold as much importance for us as they do for humans, so for the most part, everyone is referred to as a gender neutral term for 'brother.' She is just an exception."
"I see," the barkeep said noncommittally.
Mercury had goosebumps on his skin at the reminder of this particular sister. "She's… I don't know. Most of my female siblings couldn't care less about me, but she was kind of a freak. Very possessive."
He didn't have to go into detail for Mira to pick up what he was putting down.
Mercury's eldest sister couldn't give less of a hoot about the whole "family" thing. She paid attention to it, but only very vaguely; to her, "Mother" was less of an actual mother and more of a nuisance, if you could even say that about the very being that created you. She obviously listened to what Mother said – the other option was essentially what happened to Mercury – but her intent never aligned with what their "god" intended.
She was a heathen among fanatics – a fanatical heathen.
Fortunately, Anemone had already returned to his book when it was clear that Mercury wasn't going to answer any more questions, which saved him the annoyance of having to explain that he did not want to talk about that woman. Ever.
"I wish I had a sister like you," he said after a long moment. "It would have saved me a lot of grief growing up."
He could tell – no, he'd always known that Mira really, truly cared for those around her. Even Anemone, someone who was practically a stranger to both her and the guild, was being treated as though he'd been there all along, just one more younger sibling to join the pack.
Mira was The Big Sister. The big sister to end all other big sisters.
To his surprise, that promoted a smile from the young woman – a genuine one, not the practiced one that he was learning she used when she wasn't sure what else to say. "All you had to do was ask," Mira cooed. "You'd have to be the big brother, though. I already have a younger one."
It took him several seconds to even register what she was saying. Just as Anemone had done moments ago, Mercury's mouth opened and closed repetitively, searching for the right response – for any response, but his brain had effectively stalled.
He had never been an older brother before.
Actually, he sort of hated the very thought of it. His older brothers had made him think that families were supposed to be harsh and painful; the elder siblings held the younger ones under their thumbs like little pawns, crushing and crushing and crushing until there was nothing remaining but an imprint of themselves, and so he feared being put under the same umbrella.
Perhaps that was a second reason that he loathed when Anemone called him brother. Another reason why he hated the idea of getting close to the boy.
Who knew if Mercury could turn out the same as the ones that he'd run from?
But something in the way Mira said it made him feel… almost warm on the inside. It wasn't likely that he'd ever feel love again the same way that he had the first time he felt it, but the feeling that arose when with the guild was something very close. A different type of love.
The love of family.
He loved Fairy Tail.
That's why he laughed like a sigh, releasing it as an exhale as the thought shot through his brain like an epiphany. "Sure," Mercury said. "I'll be the older brother this time, but that means you can't argue with me, alright?"
"Isn't it the point of siblings to argue?"
"Only if it's over something stupid like whether or not you'll clean your room, though you probably don't have an issue with that."
"If anything, wouldn't it be me nagging you?" Mira teased. "I think that…. Huh? Merc?"
It took a second to realize that she was asking him a question – or, rather, staring at him with confused eyes that looked like they were trying to ask something. Even after that, he couldn't respond. Suddenly, it felt like his mouth was made of cement and his tongue had been stitched to the roof of his mouth.
Something was terribly wrong.
Mercury reached up to his lips, which suddenly felt wet – and they were, his fingers coming back a crimson shade instead of their normal pale white. His nose was bleeding. Gushing even, with blood pouring from it as though he'd rammed his face into the wall. It quickly stained the wood he was leaning on, but he was too shocked to do anything but stare at it. In fact, both he and Mira watched, momentarily petrified. It was all too sudden; one moment, they were chatting with each other like the good friends they were, and the next…
… this started happening.
Next to Mercury, Anemone's book clattered to the table. A brief glance confirmed that his nose wasn't bleeding, but his gaze was glassy and empty; where the boy's book had been moments ago, his fingers remained outstretched but limp as though he simply lost the strength to hold the pieces of paper.
The heat that Mercury had been feeling seemed to explode into his skin, giving him the sensation of being roasted alive right there in the guild hall, but he couldn't say anything – instead, his mouth gaped open, pausing like a fish out of water.
It hurt. It hurt – what the hell was happening?
And as usual, instead of giving him a clear answer, the world in front of his eyes shattered.
