November 1st, x778
Isvan was a cold place; it always was. The seasons of warmth were spent quickly so the chilling cold of winter could last longer, but in autumn, there were still some pumpkin leaves to be seen under a sheet of white snow. Hidden in a forest miles outside Monne, a black metal box the size of an iceberg hovered with a singular point inches above the ground. It was Ishgar's most secure prison, an impenetrable cube that housed over a hundred prisoners. To most, it was known as Black Voxx, the stronghold of the East.
The wind's starting to pick up...
To Grog Fotto, the warden of such a facility, it felt more like home.
The little criminal better hurry before a blizzard sets in.
Grog yawned at the thought, his shaggy blond hair whipping past his face as he looked into the vast surroundings of autumn trees. His hair was getting long; he'd have to cut it soon, but he'd have to wait for now. He was expecting a guest.
There he is...
It would be rude not to greet them at the door.
"Thought you wouldn't make it, little criminal." Grog teased, his scarf with black squares hiding the slight smile on his lips as he hung his favored staff over his shoulder and watched a teen with black hair and red eyes walk out of the nearby foliage. The boy wore a rundown backpack, a katana with a white sheath at his waist, and a heavy-duty winter coat, similar to the one Grog was currently wearing, albeit the boy chose a crimson red coloring compared to Grog's dark green. He'd grown since Grog had last seen him, although his tone was still the same.
"Fuck off, Bog, I haven't stolen anything in years."
Brash and unapologetic. Grog was almost glad to see that spunky attitude never changed.
"Somehow, I doubt that wasn't for lack of trying," Grog murmured as the boy rolled his eyes. The two turned to the floating facility as Grog tapped the crescent blade on the end of his staff to the ground and watched the intricate carvings light up with magical power. The stronghold reacted, and soon, a staircase made of black boxes extended, offering the two access to the one and only Black Voxx.
"Whenever you're ready, little criminal."
The blizzard would be here soon. They'd have to hole up inside Black Voxx's walls for a day or two to outlast it, but Grog didn't mind.
"Mr. Torch is waiting for you."
They had a lot to talk about.
Vera hadn't been to Black Voxx in a while, but he had to admit it still looked cool. The inside was excellent, too, with their path littered with boxes the size of bubbles that floated around the main room. It was a sight for sore eyes, but he didn't care about the prisoners. He was here to see the previous warden of the facility. Grog knew it, too.
"I must say, little criminal, I was surprised to hear you requesting a visit, especially without Wizard Saint Jose by your side."
Maybe that's why he was taking his sweet time moving the translucent floating cells around, molding them into a staircase towards the door at the back. The staircase hung a few meters up on the back wall, where one wrong step would send the prisoner tumbling toward the ground below. Vera could see some prisoners inside, wasting away with boredom.
"Well, Bog, Jose doesn't need to supervise me in everything. He isn't even my master anymore."
It is a better punishment than most, to be honest.
"He can do what he wants." Vera shrugged as he watched Grog's eyebrow raise in question before the reserved warden hummed, "Very well."
Grog tapped his staff to the ground, watching the boxes move to his will. Most had prisoners inside. Some didn't; regardless, he guided them to make a staircase towards the door leading to the back rooms. His footsteps were quiet as he walked ahead, and Vera trailed behind, sparing a glance now and then at the floating prison cells. They made their way past the main containment facility and into the backrooms, where Grog opened a door that opened up to rows upon rows of magic tools collected over the years.
"Mr. Torch is in the back." Grog motioned past the shelves of boxes filled with magic tools before heading over to the workbench to the left, "Feel free to talk to him as long as you need to." Grog picked up a pick, laying his staff on his legs as he fiddled with the settings, "Please don't make a mess."
"No promises," Vera replied as he walked through the rows of magic tools and left Grog to fiddle with his magic staff. His path lengthened as he took time to press the surprise button, because how could he not, before finally making it to the back where an older man was hunched over two pieces of a green katana. Vera tried to get a peak at it before he heard Torch's sigh, "You know when Jose said he wanted to give you another sword, I didn't think it was a replacement."
Vera winced as he noticed the details of the metal, sheepishly rubbing his neck as he glanced away guiltily. He wondered what happened to his broken sword, Kaze Kokyu. He didn't think it would be sent back to Black Voxx, of all things.
"Yeah, my bad." Vera scratched his cheek, "But in my defense. It was a dangerous situation." Vera added, hoping to appease the kind older man who had technically lent him not one sword but a second one after he broke the first. "I'll pay you back-"
"It was well over a million jewels."
"In spirit," Vera chuckled nervously, and Torch sighed before pinching his weather nose and waving dismissively, "It's fine." Torch gained a slight, mischievous smirk as he tossed the remains of Kaze Kokyu into a storage box, "Unlike Jose, I'm not a fan of needless debt."
"I knew there was a reason I liked you," Vera smiled as he watched what could've been a mountain of debt fall to the wayside. Vera's shoulders slackened with relief as Torch chuckled and spoke, "Well, despite your fondness for me, I doubt that was why you came out here." Torch tilted his head at the new sword at Vera's waist before he commented with a slight frown, "I hope you didn't come here for another sword. We're on low supply as of late."
"Relax, I'm not that desperate. Besides, I haven't even finished learning this one yet." Vera said as he tilted his hand to the sword on his waist. His thumb glided over the white wooden sheath before he tilted his head towards the broken sword in the box of broken magic tools and asked, "If I wanted to make a magic tool..."
Vera wanted to have more options. On his own, he was weak.
"Where would I start."
He felt this was the first step not to be.
"I want to know how magic tools work," Vera said honestly as he watched Torch's eyebrows raise in response before settling more calculatingly. It seemed like Torch was appraising him, but before Vera could open his mouth to try and plead his case, the elderly man huffed, "Making magic tools isn't as simple as a lesson or two. I'm well past 80, and I've only made a couple in my lifetime."
Vera listened intently as he watched Torch pick up the broken sword from the box and tap a square tile on the wall before a workbench slid out. The elderly man slid in perfectly before he waved Vera over, "Come. Have you ever heard of circuitry?"
"Uh... no?" Vera admitted as he looked over Torch's shoulder and watched the older man pull out some goggles, a handheld device, and what looked like old hardware gloves. Vera saw some runes on the device, 'Flame' and 'Voltage' being the most prominent, but before he could ask, sparks flew. Vera watched as the old man sat over the broken katana and began picking it apart, specifically the hilt.
"Well, that's fair. They aren't used often since basic lacrimal can power most anything, but in terms of complex magic tools, they're the staple." Torch said idly as he finished prying the hilt apart and giving Vera an inside look into the critical component of the sword. It was a piece of lacrimal crystal, magically dense by its look, but thousands of little lines were on it. They were painstakingly engraved. The most he could compare them to was like little veins that flashed with magic occasionally.
"This is circuitry. Any complex magic tool or weapon requires this stuff." Torch said as he slid his welding glasses off and picked out the finely ground lacrimal. It was the size of his thumbnail, yet it was more important than anything inside the rest of this magic sword, "You say you want to learn how to make magic tools, then I'd say you're wasting your time. Learning how to make these things is utterly time-consuming and difficult. It took me decades to do it."
Torch tossed the device back to Vera. Vera caught it with a surprised expression before eyeing it; thousands of lines were engraved on it. Each one blinked or flashed with green magic energy. He was curious.
"Hey, what exactly does this thing do?"
It was hard to believe such a tiny crystal could be so important.
"And what do you mean by complex? Can't I make a not-complex one?" Vera asked as he looked over the small device and heard Torch snort, responding, "If only it were that easy. No, when I say complex, I mean magic tools that don't require outside interference. You have a communication lacrimal, right?" Torch asked as Vera nodded, fully invested as Torch continued explaining, "Well, that is a simple magic tool. Simple magic tools only work with lacrimal orbs. A mage stores its magic inside it: video or audio messaging spells for communication lacrimal like yours. Whenever someone else wishes to utilize it, one simply has to turn it on, and the mage's spell is activated. When they turn it off, the mage's spell is deactivated. That's it."
Vera blinked in surprise as he saw Torch turn towards one of the boxes, pulling out a blue katana. Vera barely remembered seeing it before. It must've been one he ditched when he took Kaze Kokyu the first time. Torch handled it well for an older man; it didn't even take a moment before he unsheathed it, and water trailed from the edge of the azure blade.
"It's a decently efficient system; most people's days have been made easier with the appliances made using this method, but it's inherently short-term. Eventually, the magic a mage initially stores will run out, and the simple magic tool will malfunction and break. That's where Complex Magic tools come in. Tools that wish to be utilized in something other than a lacrimal ball or require more than just an on or off switch need circuitry. Instead of a mage using a spell and storing it into the lacrimal periodically, they make the tool learn how to do the spell."
Vera watched with a dawning understanding, his eyes comprehensive as he saw the water roar around the older man and become a surging dome of water—the spritz of water and gushing torrents unable to distract him from Torch's lessons.
"That's where circuitry is vital. It becomes the brain, so to speak, of the magic tool. It remembers how to do the spell. That way, whenever someone learns to use it, they'll no longer be required to use their magic or another mage's spell." Torch sheathed the sword, his old bones creaking as the water fell flat around him, "They can use the tool's magic instead."
Torch tossed the sheathed blade back into the box it came from before sighing, "That's only one part of it, too. After the circuitry is done, you have to find material that can integrate with it. Then, you have to learn how to use the magic tool you've made. It's a process that takes years, at the very least."
Torch turned back to the boy, expecting his excitement to be down the drain.
"I'd suggest you look somewhere else."
What he didn't expect was the boy to pocket the central lacrimal crystal (CLC) with a smile on his face. Vera's eyes alighted as he asked, suddenly inspired, "How long, at minimum, do you think it would take me to learn it? The entire process."
"At least a decade."
Torch was confused. He expected the boy to be a little more downtrodden at the fact, but it didn't seem to bother the young man. Instead, the boy had become more relaxed. The intelligent eyes he held turned towards the broken sword before he asked with a shark-like grin that instantly reminded Torch of Jose.
"What about just part of it."
Relentlessly hungry.
Vera ended up talking with Torch for the next three weeks, and by the time he was done, he'd gotten a book of Torch's old notes and the remains of his old sword back. Vera had an idea of what he wanted to do. It wouldn't be as valuable as making magic tools from scratch, but it would be enough. It felt like a start, at the very least.
"Hey, Mog, have you ever made a magic tool?"
Maybe that's why Vera was in such a good mood.
"No, but I'm working on one. Hopefully, it'll be done in a decade or two." Grog mentioned as he walked out of the barracks, his staff hung over his shoulder as he led the boy towards the exit. A slight smirk painted on his lips as he heard the boy groan, "Seriously? You and Torch have to be exaggerating."
"Afraid not." Grog shrugged, picturing the guest rolling his eyes in response. The path of a magic tool master was long and dreary. That's why there were so few. Grog had known it when he began that path: "Although what I'm trying to build is on a grander scale than most."
It never stopped him from pursuing it, regardless.
"It might've taken less time otherwise," Grog admitted as they stepped out into the main room, with translucent floating cubes holding prisoners of all shapes and sizes. He was expecting the boy to ask about his little project, but surprisingly, he didn't. It sounded like the boy was distracted.
"Hey, Bog, these boxes..."
When Grog looked back, he realized it was by one of the prisoners.
"Is it possible to talk to the prisoners inside?" Vera murmured as he kept his eyes trained on a specific box. Grog glanced at the box before he saw who was inside and nodded. He flicked his staff, and the bubble-sized prison cell floated their way. Then he tapped it with the crescent blade on the end of his staff, and the box enlarged into the size of an actual prison cell, floating only a few feet from their faces. A single, tattooed prisoner was inside, crisscrossed in the cell's center. His grey hair and stormy eyes tilted in amusement.
"Well, do my eyes deceive me?"
Erigor the 'Shinigami' of Eisenwhalde. The most recent addition to Black Voxx's numbers. Grog had read the report. He knew the little criminal and this particular assassin had a history, so he chose to play a non-partial observer. He stepped back and let the boy stand before the cell, a translucent wall of black material separating the two.
"I never expected a visitor." Erigor snickered as he tapped his finger on his leg. His eyes turned to Vera, watching with a smile that indicated eager anticipation or some nervous energy. Vera noticed that Erigor was fidgeting, but he couldn't remember if that was new or if it was a tick he hadn't seen back in the forest. Hard to say.
"You were right, too. I'm not here for you."
Vera didn't care enough to ask.
"I just want to ask you a question while I'm here," Vera said offhandedly as he saw Erigor flinch before a quick cackle escaped the assassin's lips. The sound echoed through the prison and brought back a flash of the battle to Vera's mind before he shoved it to the side. Erigor was in a cell; there wasn't anything he could do but rot. That's why Vera wasn't worried.
"Ask away, kid."
That smile still spiked his nerves, though.
"I've got nothing but time." The assassin chuckled as Vera huffed before laying his request on the table, "What happened after that thing took over."
Vera didn't want to play mind games with Erigor, he was pretty sure he'd lose anyways. It was better to be upfront about what he wanted and how much.
"The last thing I remember is seeing it smile."
Vera wanted to know the details of the monster.
"What happened, Erigor? How'd you lose?"
Erigor was his only viable lead to do so.
"How strong is that thing?" Vera asked as he put all his cards on the table because he was curious. How strong was the monster? He already had an idea. It was stronger than Erigor but weaker than Laxus; still, it wasn't enough. He needed to know precisely what it did and how it fought.
"Ha... I could tell you about it. You know..."
Vera was curious, morbidly so.
"As long as you're willing to do something for me."
About the monster beneath his skin. Enough so that he'd at least hear out Erigor's request.
"It'll depend on what you want me to do." Vera said plainly as he watched Erigor chuckle with a smirk, "Relax. Nothing illegal, not even that hard. If you promise to do it for me, I'll tell you my end of what happened in the forest." Erigor then tilted his head at Grog, "He has to leave, though. I'd rather not my meal ticket listening to our conversation."
"I'm required to stand by in case-"
"Grog, can you give us a minute?" Vera asked, cutting off Grog's dutiful speech before the head warden's lips thinned. Grog gave a second consideration before he sighed and headed toward the other side of the room. He was leaving Vera and Erigor to talk without unnecessary eyes. Vera would have to remember to thank Grog later, but for now, he turned his attention back to the Erigor.
"He's gone now, Erigor..."
The smile on Erigor's face still messed with Vera's nerves. Even with the figurative prison bars between them. They didn't feel thick enough.
"What do you want me to do."
Vera was already invested, though, so he figured he might as well ask.
"A small favor. Might cost some money but nothing major."
Vera wasn't sure if he was glad or not for doing it, but he listened to the request and was stunned by it. The request Erigor made wasn't anything Vera expected, but by the end of it, he'd gotten the gist of it. Vera would've laughed at the irony if he wasn't so surprised, but in the end, he settled for a bit of sarcasm, "Well, look at that. You do have a heart."
It turns out it was the wrong choice since instantly, the laidback smile fell from Erigor's face, and the assassin's face became stone cold. It took everything in Vera not to take back a step, but he held his ground and watched as Erigor's fingers finally stopped tapping, "The fuck are you talking about? The heart has nothing to do with this." Erigor whispered as he met Vera's eyes. Once again, he reminded Vera why this psycho deserved to be here.
"I owed him a debt. Once I pay it, I'll be free."
Erigor was fucked up.
"I owe you a debt, too, kid."
Block Voxx was built for people like him.
"I'll make sure to pay it in full," Erigor snarled as Vera narrowed his eyes. All good graces lost as Vera clicked his tongue, "Big words for a loser that's going to be sitting in here till he's seventy."
"Please. This place won't hold me long. You and I both know that." Erigor's grin turned wicked as he stood up lazily before standing with a hunched back so he could stare eye-to-eye with Vera regardless of the translucent wall between them, "Just like you and I both know that if that monster didn't bail you out, the result of our fight would've been different."
"Maybe, but then again," Vera retorted, instantly dismissing Erigor's attempt to rattle him as he put a hand to the wall made of translucent metal, tilting his head so he could glare at Erigor through the barrier, "I don't know much about the monster."
Vera would do the favor Erigor wanted. It wasn't hard, and he couldn't see how Erigor could use it to his advantage, but more than anything, Vera wanted to know more about the monster inside his chest.
"So why don't you tell me about it."
The monster that even Erigor couldn't defeat.
An hour after Vera and Erigor's conversation, he was on a train back towards Fiore. His head tilted to the window as he thought over the deal he'd made. He'd gotten what he wanted and was confident the blood monster could use blood tentacles and arrows. Possibly more. It seemed like it could control its malleability and structure. Not that he could utilize it without that thing going on a rampage. Still, it was good to know.
Erigor's honest for an assassin...
It was funny. Vera didn't have any reservations that Erigor might've lied to him. He was certain everything he'd heard was the truth.
Why'd he become one anyway?
Vera tilted his head at the thought before giving up and letting his gaze rest outside the window. Vera would fulfill the end of the deal when he returned to Oak Town, but for now, he was OK with keeping the whole debacle at arm's length. Thinking about it made him tired.
Huh...
But not as furious as he thought he'd be.
Why'd that conversation go so well?
Vera frowned as he did some halfhearted soul-searching. Vera still wasn't sure why he was so easygoing about the whole thing. Erigor was part of why he'd lost Sho, but surprisingly, Vera wasn't wholly unhinged about it. Erigor still prickled his nerves the wrong way, but if Vera had to pick a word, he'd use dislike rather than hate. Neutral if he was being generous. Maybe it was because they fought with everything on the line back in the forest. Perhaps it was because Erigor didn't leave a fucking brand on Vera's chest? Vera had no clue. He didn't care enough to dissect it, either. He was already moving to the next target he had in mind.
I hope they don't mind me crashing at their guild for a while.
Vera scoffed at the thought. He could camp in the woods, but he'd prefer a roof over his head. Although, if he were lucky, he'd be able to meet who he wanted to see quickly and leave. If not, he'd have to make do for however many weeks or months it took that recluse to return from his never-ending quest across Fiore. On the bright side, he'd have all the time in the world to read over Torch's old notes, but it was still tedious.
Waiting's going to suck, but... it's worth it.
Vera already got some guidance on the technical aspect of magic tools from Torch; it's all they did for the last three weeks, but now he needed some advice on using magic tools. How to use them in combat against mages. Jose's training covered some of the bases, but Jose had never relied on magic tools. Vera needed to learn from someone who did. Grog was a good option, but Vera knew someone even better. The problem was said person was hard to get a hold of both in the story and real life.
I'll be fucking pissed if he puts me to sleep, though.
Thankfully, Vera had his home address.