Wendy was tired.

I have to hurry...

She was tired but she couldn't allow herself to stop running. She sprinted through the woods as fast as she could, the sun green light from her spell shining through the dark forest like a blurry meteor.

I have to find someone...

Wendy had to make it back to Cait Shelter as soon as she could, she didn't know how long Jellal, or Mystogan (she was still getting used to the name) could fight for. She knew he was strong but that poison had smelled horrible, and he had been bit before she had left.

it's my fault...

He had been bit because the snake had been going for her and he jumped in the way.

I have to help him...

He was fighting injured because she wasn't strong enough to heal him and have enough energy left over to not be a liability.

I just got him back...

He was fighting alone, Siegrain had vanished, and she hadn't been able to do anything.

Please don't die...

Wendy had just been deadweight like she had feared, so she pushed herself and ran as fast as she could. Away from the sound of explosions and smells of poison that thickened the air. She ran until her tiny little feet were covered sore and her breath was ragged but she kept running, because she needed to make things right.

I can't lose him again...

She ran so hard she hadn't noticed the hand that grabbed the back of her dress and yanked her to a stop before it was too late. She was caught, her eyes wide and panic filling her face before she heard a familiar voice that helped calm her raging nerves.

"Wendy..."

Wendy turned around with eyes red from tears and a shaky breath of relief as she saw Raubol standing in front of her. His old hand releasing her dress as she crumbled to the ground and heaved heavy breaths. Her eyes closed as she forced herself to eat the air and recover, all the while listening to Raubol's aged and concerned words trickle into the open.

"Where's Siegrain."

Wendy flinched, her eyes wide as Raubol watched with a growing sense of dread. He didn't know what had happened or why Wendy was running alone in the middle of the woods, but it couldn't be good.

"I- I don't-"

Wendy looked absolutely terrified.

"I I- I-don't know where he went! He was there and then he wasn't a- and there was a mage who attacked Jellal a- and I didn't anything! I ran and-"

"Breathe Wendy..."

Wendy's tearful and panicked rant froze as Raubol put a steady hand on her shoulders, giving her a soft hug that she fell into. Her quickening breath falling slowly as she melted into his steady arms and sobbed because she didn't know what was going on and she was scared.

"I don't know who's attacking Jellal..."

Wendy was the most scared she'd ever been in her life.

"I don't know where Siegrain is."

Raubol wouldn't let that crime go unpunished.

"I'll go and find Siegrain," Raubol said with a firm tone, his childishness gone as he pulled Wendy out of his grip and met her trembling eyes. His hand on her shoulder as he tried to keep his voice gentle, "I need you to stay here, I'll be back with Siegrain and Jellal and we'll-"

"No!"

Wendy said with a sudden yell, her eyes falling from panic to a scared desperation as she gripped Raubol's arms with white knuckles, "Jellal's poisoned! I have to heal him! I can't," Wendy gulped, her arms shaking but her voice unwilling to bend, "I have to help him."

Wendy wouldn't run away.

"Please..."

Wendy was terrified beyond belief but she wouldn't run.

"Let me go back and heal him."

Wendy said with a shaky voice laced with a stubborn desperation that made Raubol realize she wouldn't let it go. She wouldn't stay away even if she should have; her eyes held the weight of a Dragon's. She was willing to bet her life on healing Jellal, even if the mere thought of it shook her to her core.

"Okay then..."

Who was Raubol to say no to her?

"You go back to Jellal and heal him."

Raubol knew Jellal was strong, he wouldn't be surprised if he had ended his fight already. If he was poisoned, and badly if Wendy's desperate plea said anything about it, she was right to come along so she could heal him. Raubol didn't have healing magic, Wendy's coming with him was the correct decision.

"But..."

However; that did not mean he would just let her throw herself into whatever dangers they came across.

"Only if he's beaten whoever attacked him."

This was the condition he would place on Wendy's decision to follow him.

"Do not put yourself in danger Wendy, do you understand? If he's still fighting," or if he loses was a grim possibility that Raubol left unsaid, "You turn around and leave. Immediately."

Raubol's words were etched with seriousness, no longer carrying any childish tints to it like back at the guild. If he didn't get an agreement on this condition he'd knock Wendy out right then and there. He could wake her up when he had Jellal and Siegrain out of whatever predicament they were in. It may end up costing Jellal if the poison wasn't treated in time but Raubol's mind was made up.

"Do you understand?"

He wouldn't let her risk her life when she had yet to live it. He would not let another young soul be lost to the violence of the world.

"Wendy?"

Raubol asked for confirmation as Wendy gulped, her eyes trembling as she took in his words. She understood the serious implications they held, and she let them stew in her head before she clenched her shaking fists and silently nodded. Her trepidation turned to a quiet and deep determination; prompting Raubol to give her a small pat on the head and speak with pride, "Good."

Raubol was not a fool, he had lived for centuries. He had seen the cruelty of war and devoted his life trying to end it; he of all people knew the world cared little for what it took and what it chose to spare.

"Be safe Wendy..."

Wendy was young, but as tragic as it was, youth didn't guarantee protection from the dangers of the world. There was a chance she could die because of his decision.

"Keep track of my scent and come back to me at the first sign of danger."

Even so, he would let her brave her own challenges, because he believed Wendy had the strength to get through them. He believed all of the young children he'd met so far, in this decade that seemed to be teeming with geniuses, had the strength to survive the harshest trial this word had to offer.

"I'll find Siegrain."

Nevertheless Raubol wouldn't hesitate to be there in case they stumbled along the way.

In the middle of a minor, circular clearing hidden under the dense foliage of the overhanging treetop branches; where the only light was the moonlight that could trickle in through the overhead leaves, the fast, grinding sound of a fist meeting flesh echoed through the night air, with a loud and clear sting delivered behind each snap.

What the hell...

Racer was getting tired.

My knuckles are starting to hurt...

That's how long he'd been hammering away at this stubborn fucking dickhead.

When's he going to go down?

Racer gritted his teeth as he threw a lightning-fast jab, watching as Siegrain adjusted his guard to block it.

"Slow Magic"

Racer stopped his arm's extension as he saw the blue-haired punching bag freeze. Racer readjusted his fist and slipped past the brat's frozen guard, landing flush on the boy's cheek and snapping him out of the daze Racer had put him under.

"Can't you just give up!"

Racer roared as he dodged a threaded dagger the kid threw in half-hearted retaliation; the dull thud of it lodging itself in a tree at the edge of the clearing echoed through the area before Racer repeated the process over and over again. He stained the small clearing of the woods with the stench of blood as he threw punch after punch.

What the fuck is wrong with him...

Racer was pretty sure he was going to break his damn knuckles at this rate.

Does he not feel pain or something?

Racer scowled at the thought as he continued his barrage, taking note of the canvas of minor cuts and bruises that fully encased his opponent's body. Racer was able to inflict a bit of damage even with the weird hardening shit the kid had done to his clothes, but it wasn't enough. Jellal's brother was standing there in with blood caked skin and watching him through dull brown eyes that were darker than the night sky.

He's...

Racer wasn't even sure if he'd blinked during any of it.

Fucking insane.

Jellal's brother was utterly unhinged. He hadn't moved or even grunted during Racer's punches, just staring at him like a broken marionette that didn't know how to function without strings. The latest dagger he there was the first time the dunce had retaliated, before that he had just kept his fists clenched and his guard up. It was like he was in a trance and waiting to fucking die.

Fuck this.

It creeped Racer the fuck out.

"SLOW MAGIC"

Racer poured most of his remaining magic into this slow spell, watching with a tired breath as the boy froze in the same spot he'd been standing in for at least ten minutes. Racer shaking his fists and wincing at the gashes on his right arm as he looked around for anything he could use to end the fight instantly; punching just wasn't doing it.

"If only I still had my knives..."

Racer clicked his tongue as he looked around their small clearing. Racer's eyes perked up as something glinted in the moonlight, trickling through the treetops near the edge of the clearing.

"Bingo."

It was one of the last dagger Siegrain had thrown; lodged into a tree at the edge of the circular clearing.

"Sorry, dude, it's nothing personal."

Racer said with a chuckle as he walked towards the knife in the tree. Racer could punch the kid till his knuckles broke and that might do the job, but he wanted to end the fight now. Kill Jellal's brother and drag his limp body to that bastard.

"Your brother's just piece of shit."

Racer wondered if Jellal would feel even an ounce of his pain in the tower.

"Usually, I consider it a bad fashion to kill you with your own knife, but what can I say?"

Racer shrugged as he stepped past the halfway point between the center of the ring and the edge where the knife was—drawing closer to the blade and further from his opponent with every passing second.

"Drawn-out fights aren't my-"

Racer muttered in surprise as his height suddenly dropped. Racer's eyes were wide with confusion as he fell to his knees, and the stench of iron hit his nose.

"Style?"

It was weird. He felt strangely calm like a numbing agent had been injected into his bloodstream so he could think clearly. He ran through questions as if they were a mental checklist. Why did he fall? Racer didn't know. Why was he smelling fresh blood? Racer didn't know. Why was his leg...

"What happened..."

Why was his leg so warm?

"What's going-"

Racer's words caught in his throat as he looked back, his eyes wide as he saw the moonlight glint off the blood that stained a brown wire stretched across the ground; camouflaged nearly perfectly to blend into the dirt. Its razor-sharp edge was right above a small pool of blood that had flowed from a small lump of flesh a few inches away from Racer's feet.

"Haa..."

No, it was a few inches away from Racer's only remaining foot.

"HAGHHHHHHHHH!"

Racer screamed in agony as he reached down and clutched the bloody stump at the end of his right leg, marked by a clean and precise cut right below his shin. The pain hit him in waves until the shock faded and was replaced by a suffering, seething rage. Racer began messily trying to reach for his severed foot. His voice was hoarse and vengeful as he grabbed the blood-stained appendage.

"GIVE IT BACK!"

Racer glared at the figure of the silent, still blue-haired boy as he clutched the foot, his foot, and messily tried to reattach it. Uselessly failing as he screamed in hoarse anger, tossed the thing aside with blood-soaked hands, and roared in bloodcurdling hatred.

"YOU FUCKER!"

It was fucking bullshit.

"YOU'RE BROTHER ALREADY TOOK ENOUGH!"

Brain had just gifted Racer these wings.

"DON'T YOU TAKE MY PRAYER!"

Racer had just run faster than the tower that caged-

"Ah..."

Racer's cries of pain and frustration froze as an emotionless voice cut through the blood-tinged air. A shiver crawled up his spine as he saw Siegrain walk out from the center of the ring, having finally broken out of Racer's slow spell now that the speed mage was too preoccupied to keep it going.

"That took longer than ai thought it would..."

The moonlight flashed through the leaves overhead and highlighted his bruised and bloody face, offering a glimpse of a set of dull brown eyes that rested on Racer's downed figure without a hint of emotion.

"I was wondering when you'd try to kill me."

Racer gnashed his teeth and forced himself up in an unbalanced show of pride as he stood on his left leg, ignoring the burning sensation and phantom pains that crawled up his right leg as he tried to restart his magic. Racer didn't care what it took; he would kill this fucker that took his wings from him!

"Slow..."

Racer's mouth opened before he stopped, his eyes wide as he saw something glint on the ground at the edge of the forest behind Siegrain. Near the opposite edge of the clearing, a razor-sharp line lost its dull brown color and turned into a pale white, revealing its existence between the surrounding trees. One that was followed by a sea of razor-sharp wires that littered the ground around the outskirts of the clearing, like they were sitting in the center of a minefield.

When...

Racer was trapped.

When did he do it?

How long had he been trapped?

How-

"It took me a while to set it up..."

Racer's thoughts froze, and his breath quickened as Siegrain's bland voice echoed through the trap-filled clearing. Racer stared with dawning eyes as Siegrain unclenched his fist and revealed a thread trailing down his index finger and through his sleeves, escaping down his pants legs. The thread turned brown right as it hit the ground and made a beeline towards the perimeter, where it split into the rest of the traps.

"Thanks for being persistent."

The entire thing gave Racer an uneasy feeling he had only felt once. Back in the tower, when he was a slave to those fucking cultists and then Jellal. Racer thought if he ran fast enough, he would never have to feel it again. He hated it, and it was still there; he felt it stabbing in his eyes every time he looked at Jellal's brother. Racer felt it clawing at his neck even as he tried to turn away, only for a thread to yank at his good leg and throw him to the ground in a disgruntled heap of his sputtering blood.

"We aren't done talking yet."

The feeling lingered even as he felt a thread wrap around his lousy leg and tighten, cutting off the blood flow and earning an agonizing scream from Racer. His vision flashed with stars as he ran out of breath and heard the same dull voice as he had back at the tower.

"Tell me why you hate Jellal."

Racer felt like he was suffocating. Hearing that fucker's voice. Feeling that disgusting feeling, he was smothered in it as he sat in the palms of that bastard's hands. Racer thought he'd finally outran the sheer helplessness that came when he looked up at those void brown eyes that watched him like his life or death would be an inconvenience at best.

"You can bleed out afterward."

Like he was a fly caught in a web.

Mystogan felt caught in quicksand as he ran back to the field he had been thrown from.

That was unpleasant.

Mystogan's back ached from being sent through the woods, crashing into every passing tree and boulder unlucky enough to be in his path. If he had to guess, he'd say he'd been launched maybe 80 yards away, so the run back wasn't long. It just felt long because he was trying to battle his utter exhaustion and the poison in his arm simultaneously.

My arm is numb...

It was a losing battle.

The poison must be a potent one.

Thanks to his upbringing, Mystogan had experience with poisons. Not all of Edolas was exactly happy that his family had conquered the world, so attempts on his life were common in his childhood. Toxins were widespread, so he was forced to build resistance to them since he was little.

I doubt there's anything like it on Edolas.

It was only because of his background that he could keep upright, and firm the poison seeping into the cut on his cheek and the bite on his right arm. It was why he made the decision to dive into the toxic cloud in the earlier exchange; he figured he could survive it.

Albeit with some cost to his lungs.

I need to hurry.

Mystogan frowned as he wiped the stray trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth and dashed towards the muddy field. The sleeping spell he cast was strong enough to last for days, but he didn't want to take any chances. He had to go back and ensure that the dark mage wouldn't wake till morning, probably cast another sleeping spell on top of that just for good measure.

Wendy might not be able to heal me if I linger.

Then, let the Rune Knights take care of the rest so he could return to dealing with his messy life and even messier family problems.

There it is...

Mystogan sped up as he reached the edge of the woods, his eyes narrowed as he walked into the open moonlight and scanned the muddy field. The air was still damp from the heat of the battle, and the smell of smoky gas was still in the air.

Now where-

Mystogan froze as he spotted his target, downed and utterly asleep in the middle of the field. Mystogan's eyes widened in understanding as he saw the glint of purple scales moving down Cobra's arm. Mystogan did not even waste a second as he flew through hand signs at a quick pace, ending with his gloved hands clasped and pointing toward the downed figure.

"Ground Shattering Wave"

A small, controlled beam of purple energy shot from the tips of his fingers at a fast rate and hit the snake that had raised its head and bared its fangs. The creature let out a bloody screech as it was knocked off its perch on the sleeping mage's arm. The ground beneath the mage then surged upward, burying Cobra in dirt and soil, with only his head sticking out into the open air.

That was close.

Mystogan took his cracked cloud staff, dissipated into mist, and appeared next to his new prisoner, swiftly using his fan to apply another sleeping spell before turning to the bloody snake that twitched on the ground, fighting off its fatal injuries as it slowly yet stubbornly slithered up the dirt hill. The snake itself, which looked like some Elachy now that he had a good look at it, would die from its wounds eventually, but it was still better to kill it immediately.

Otherwise, it might wake him up.

Mystogan frowned at the thought, glancing at the injured Elachy struggling as it slowly slithered up the hill. Mystogan charged purple energy at the end of his staff as he brought it up and got ready to slam it down on the snake's head. Even if the Elachy were sturdy, it wouldn't survive a hit to the skull; it shouldn't have survived the first.

Wait...

So, how did this little snake survive his first attack?

Why does it feel different...

Mystogan held his attack for a split second as he watched the snake slowly crawl up the mound. It was nearing the tip of Cobra's ear, but Mystogan still held his blow. His mind was too busy trying to piece together the mystery of the durable snake to kill it just yet.

It feels strange...

Mystogan didn't have magic; to his knowledge, he was the only one in Earthland without an ounce. As such, Mystogan was extremely sensitive to magic, from the complex magic power hidden in his magic staves to the raw ether nano buzzing harmlessly around the barrier his skin provided to the anima portals cast across the country. Mystogan simply had a sixth sense when it came to magic sensitivity.

It doesn't feel like a snake...

It was impossible for Mystogan not to notice all the magic in the Earthland when he'd never experienced such a vast amount back in Edolas.

It doesn't feel like an Elachy.

It was because of this sixth sense, because he was from Edolas that he could feel the magic coming from the small snake—magic that wasn't the naturally collected magic almost every living in Earthland possessed.

What is it...

No, there was a second, unnatural magic cast on the snake.

It feels...

Like it was cursed.

Human.

Mystogan's eyes widened at the realization, the unexpected discovery freezing him long enough that the snake, the human, could make it up the hill. It was a final act before it succumbed to its wounds and fainted, but not before bearing its fangs and sinking them into Cobra's resting skin.

Shit.

Like a kiss on the cheek that left a thin trail of blood in its wake.

It had been a while since Siegrain had smelled so much blood.

My limbs feel heavy...

Enough so that it felt like he was bathed in it, the smell touching his skin like a fog he couldn't get out of. A few of the spars in the lab used to get this bloody, since the robes could treat almost all injuries that weren't fatal.

My head's numb...

It smelled worse than he remembered.

I might pass out if I'm not careful.

Siegrain was littered with cuts; even if they were tiny, they were there and plenty. Even if they didn't hurt much compared to some of the injuries he'd suffered in the lab, they were bound to wear him down. The broken nose and the collection of bruises he had garnered, minuscule ones under his clothes and larger ones where his skin had been exposed, weren't helping.

I have to finish this quickly.

Siegrain tilted his head idly at the thought, gazing down at Racer coldly as he repeated his earlier question, "Why do you hate Jellal?"

"Go fuck yourself."

Well, that wasn't the answer Siegrain wanted to hear, and if he were going off the furious glare Racer was shooting him, that answer wouldn't change any time soon; even so, he tried again.

"Why do you hate Jellal?"

"I'm not telling you shit."

And again.

"Why do you hate Jellal?"

"Fuck off!"

Because Siegrain didn't have time to try and use civil methods if they weren't going to work, he didn't know how long his body would stay awake.

"Why do you hate Jellal?"

"..."

Still, he figured he'd give them one last shot before he moved on to the less-than-civil methods.

"Why do you-"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP ALREADY!"

Racer roared as he glared daggers at Siegrain, sealing his mouth shut because he wouldn't say shit. This fucker took his wings from him; his life was worth less than that. He'd fucking burn before he did a goddamn thing this bastard wanted him to do.

"Okay..."

Yet even Racer could admit his determination faltered at the quick and pragmatic response.

"I'm going off memory, so I can't guarantee how close it'll be to the original, but..."

Racer's eyes widened as he watched Siegrain walk towards him.

"It should be enough."

Calm and controlled footsteps echoed in Racer's ears as he tried to crawl back on instinct. Only to stop as a threaded wire trap cut into his back, prompting a sudden groan from the former speedster as he moved away from the ring of razor wire and right to Siegrain's feet. Racer's heart beat out of its chest as he heard Siegrain speak without a hint of sympathy.

"Sorry in advance..."

Racer wanted to run away...

"But if it's any consolation..."

Racer prayed that he could run far, far away.

"This won't kill you."

Racer trembled as he looked up and saw the faintest flicker of smoke billowing in Siegrain's outstretched palm, slowly turning mustard yellow. After a full minute, the yellow smoke had only become a bubble in size, yet never once did Racer feel at ease. Never once did he look at the bubble and hear the absolute truth in Siegrain's words and think he would be fine.

"You'll just wish it did."

Every muscle fiber in Racer's body wanted to flee, yet he couldn't, so his only hope was for someone to save him from this unsettling magic.

"Smoke Magic"

For anyone to save him from the heartless mage casting it.

"Nerve-

"So this is where you were, Racer."

Racer flinched as the familiar sound of a tired voice cut through the tense atmosphere. His eyes and Siegrain's whipped towards the tree line as a lean young man with black hair and red eyes hidden behind lidded eyelids walked out of the clearing and into trickling moonlight.

He had yellow-black pants, boots, a black leather vest with white fur trimmings, black eyeshadow, and black lipstick that highlight the smirk playing on the new arrival's lips. The wires that lined the perimeter and blocked the mage's entry snapped seamlessly as he walked through them like they weren't even there.

"Although..."

Racer felt his heart fall; his prayer had been answered, but it was in the worst of ways. The ball of smoke had dissipated as Siegrain seemingly forgot about his existence and tensely stared at the new arrival, but Racer knew it wouldn't make a difference. Racer was still just as screwed as he had been a minute ago.

"Maybe Racer isn't the right word."

The person who had arrived, rubbing their lidded red eyes before sparing a slight glance at his dilemma, was just as likely to join in on torturing him as he was to help.

"Should I call you cripple now?"

Midnight was just as twisted as his magic.