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CHAPTER START---
---Fiore, Era, the city of law...
As the most magically dominant nation in all of Ishgar -the east continent-, Fiore's branch of the Magic Council, which oversees the mages and guilds of the entire continent, is a sight to behold.
It is a castle atop a large hill, placed in the middle of the city. The city was tiny, only housing officials and military personnel, and the castle was the headquarters for the Magic Council itself.
But the most eye-catching aspect of this city was the massive rings of runes slowly rotating around the hill in the middle of the city.
There was also a steep chasm separating the protrusion from the surrounding city, with only a few bridges to close the gap.
Those runes hovering about allow the council to look in on major events happening all across Ishgar, via connecting to other similar structures strategically located around the continent.
Although someone explained its limitations two days ago, when Oberon first arrived, the sight remained incredible.
So incredible that even now, at noon, he sat in bed looking through the hospital window at it.
He had a book titled 'The Guild Laws of Ishgar' in his hand, and a bag on the chair beside his bed.
The room was rather private, with him being the only occupant. And through the small sliver of frosted glass on the door, he could see the shadows cast by the Rune Knights stationed outside to protect him.
He'd spent the past few days going over every detail of what he remembered, which, sadly, was everything.
In all the horrific detail he could imagine.
He sighs and flops back onto his bed, laying there looking up at the ceiling, fed up of waiting.
But that was all he could do now.
With a wave of his hand, the book hovers above the bed, closing itself, and he hops out of bed.
His bare feet touch the cool tile floor as he walks over to the duffel bag the Rune Knight Captain had given him.
A 'gift' from the Magic Council to him, the only survivor of this natural disaster, since that's what they consider it.
But at least he wasn't stuck in a hospital gown. He was wearing a pair of blue shorts and a matching t-shirt, bandages on his arms and legs.
And a minor bruise on his face, but he was otherwise perfectly normal.
He walks over and opens his bad, and with a hand gesture, the book slowly floats over to him, and he grabs it out of the air and puts it in the bag.
Then he reaches in and takes out a notepad and pencil, and tosses them onto the bed.
He stops for a moment, looking at the bag, then takes a deep breath and reaches in, taking out a small leather-bound book with his name on the cover.
Opening it, he sees memories of his family, now only pictures.
Nothing had survived the attack, aside from him.
But the Rune Knights needed more than just words, so they scanned his memories. Only his recent memories were available, as even that Magic has limits.
They printed hundreds of pictures to see the entirety of his past 5 days.
But they didn't need the pictures of his family, so one man gave them to him in this book.
A gift he'd be eternally thankful for.
Opening it for a moment, he sees the pictures from a few days ago.
From the last family breakfast they had with everyone there.
And as the tears form, he closes the book, feeling shame and guilt for being the only one here to carry on these memories.
He squeezes his eyes shut, and the tears stain his cheek for a moment before he wipes them away with his bandages.
"Sorry..." he says in a quiet, defeated voice. Then puts the book back into his bag.
With another wave of his hand, a Magic Circle appears below him, like a slowly spinning galaxy below his feet.
It glowed bright white for a moment before disappearing, and he takes a step forward, pushing off the ground ever so slightly.
And the lowered gravity of his body enables a soft landing on his bed.
With a mental command, he cancels the magic, then with a wave of his hand, the notepad and pencil float in front of him.
"I guess flying is the most obvious," Oberon says as he writes.
Writing his wish list, not a list of Magics he wishes to learn.
But a list of all the things he wishes he could have done when it attacked.
Thinking about it for a moment, he can't help but admit, "I guess flying away with everyone should be number one on this list, huh?"
After a few minutes of deep thought, a knock on the door interrupted Oberon.
"May I come in?" An unfamiliar voice asks from the other side, but looking at the door, Oberon doesn't see a third shadow through the glass.
"Yes!" he says.
The door opens, and in walks a man standing just under 3ft8 -112cm- tall.
Short and old, with grey hair at the sides of his head and making up his bushy moustache, a kind look in his eyes.
But Oberon's eyes widened at the sight of the white and gold robes, the crest on the left breast pocket.
The Fairy Tail emblem, and the medal pinned beside it, the Wizard Saints symbol.
Two things he'd recently read about in his brief stay here.
Oberon immediately tries to get out of bed to greet the man properly, but the man stops him.
"No need to get up," he says while closing the door, then walks over to the star-struck boy.
"Uh, it's a pleasure to meet you, sir."
"Honor, yes. Pleasure, I doubt it, considering what brought us here." The man walks over to the bed and holds onto the side, trying to pull himself up.
Seeing him about to struggle, Oberon raises his hand and a Magic Circle appears below the man, who freezes for a moment to observe the galaxy that appeared beneath him.
Then he easily climbs up and sits beside Oberon's legs, using the lowered gravity.
"How interesting, but we can discuss that later," he says. "I am Makarov Dreyar, and I heard you've been asking for me. Now, what might your name be?"
"Oh, I'm Oberon. Oberon Alkwan, sir."
Makarov chuckles at that, "Oberon... already choosing a wizard alias, huh, and quite the ambitious one."
"My parents named me that," Oberon says with a straight face, and Makarov immediately stops laughing. "Mom liked a play with a character named Oberon. He was king of the fairies."
"I'm familiar with it, since I am the guild master of Fairy Tail, after all."
"Thank you for coming to see me, sir."
"No need to be so formal with me, young man, and as for me coming to see you. Well, if there is a child in need, there isn't any distance I won't go to help. Especially one as interesting as you," Makarov says, while clearly staring at Oberon's hair.
He squints slightly, not detecting even the faintest hint of Magic Energy in the strange hair.
Then realizes it has a similar appearance to his Magic Circle, which appears like a galaxy, but his hair is like the night sky.
"It's because of my magic," Oberon says, already expecting this question. "I awakened my magic when I was 3... and my hair hasn't been normal ever since."
"Well, that certainly explains why I sense nothing familiar about your magic. Actually, I can't sense it at all, quite interesting. But before we get to talking about all of that, how are you feeling?"
"What do you mean?"
"Come now young man, you've been through more in these past few days than most people experience in their lifetime. The misfortune that fell upon you to experience a disaster like that.
And to be the only survivor on top of that. I know your heart is still hurting, even if you try to push it down. Those emotions will still be there, because you're a mage, aren't you?
Magic is not only a talent that only 10% of the world can use. It results from the energy inside of us, and the energy in the world around us, being synchronized by our focus.
But while the energy outside of us is Ethernano, which permeates the atmosphere and every living thing in this world.
The energy inside of us is our life force, our willpower, our emotions, and our feelings. Tempered by experience and harnessed by focus. Being a wizard means you feel all these things more than regular people.
And if my minor understanding of you is correct, you will feel these things more than most wizards. So tell me, how do you feel?"
"I—" Oberon's eyes tear up as Makarov's words resonate with him, bringing up all those thinks he's been trying not to think about. "I miss them!"
The dams burst and his tears flow, bawling his eyes out as he cries, held close by Makarov who gently pats his back as the boy sobs loudly.
'8 years old and forced to live with such a memory. Why must the world insist on being this uncaring to the children within it,' Makarov thinks as he lets Oberon get it all out.
After a few minutes Oberon wipes his tears and sits back with puffy eyes, looking at Makarov, who had a wet spot on the shoulder of his Wizard Saint robe.
"Sorry," Oberon says.
"It's alright, child." Makarov waves his hand at the spot, and it immediately dries up. "I'm just sorry that such a disaster had to befall you. You have my deepest condolences."
Oberon frowns at that. "Why does everyone call it that?"
"What do you mean?"
"Everyone calls it a disaster, but it's a dragon, with a name. Acnologia, that's what the Run Knights told me."
Makarov sighs, "because my boy, natural disasters are things that no man can do anything about. That we must simply accept as a fact of life. And Acnologia, the King of Dragons, is such a thing. There isn't a Wizard in this world who can so much as sway him, much less stop him."
Oberon narrows his eyes at that. "Dad said the Wizard Saints are the strongest."
"Yes, we are, which is why when one says these words, listen."
Oberon deflates at that.
After a brief pause, Makarov asks about his greatest fear for Oberon. "Do you intent to hunt Acnologia?"
"No," Makarov breathed a sigh of relief. "The Rune Knights said it's impossible since he's only seen about once a decade, and it's all over the world."
"I see, so it was a decision of logic, not desire."
"I want to be strong," Oberon says, looking much more serious. "That's my desire... I want that. The next time it shows up to take everything away from me. If it comes back to destroy my life, I can protect everything I care about. I won't just be helpless and weak, never again."
"So you wish for the power to protect, not for revenge." Makarov smiles and nods. "That is precisely what I wanted to hear. Now we can save all the Magic talk for when we're back in my office."
"Why?" Oberon looks saddened by that since the Wizard he most wanted to meet was right here sitting beside him.
"Well, more than most, this city has eyes." Makarov gestures to the Magic Council building through the window.
"Huh?" Oberon looks confused for a moment, then catches on. "Oh, you don't trust the creepy old guys that asked me the questions."
"Ach!" Makarov almost falls off the bed. "When I say people are listening, that doesn't mean you should insult them."
"Sorry," Oberon whispers. "Are they listening right now?" he waves his hand. "Can they see this?"
Makarov gives him an exasperated look. "I don't know, but let's save the magic talk until we're at least out of this city. Your doctor said you only need two more days before the bandages can come off, then we'll leave... I'll miss the Phantasia Parade, but that's unavoidable... although I hope Laxus will understand."
"Then let's leave now," Oberon says.
"We can't. The dragon roughed you up—"
"But look," Oberon reaches out and grabs Makarov's shoulders, then points to the bruise on his own face.
He then closes his eyes and puts his fists together as if he were praying, and Makarov sees the bruise slowly fade.
The purple bruise was now just a small red spot as the boy began sweating.
Then he takes a deep breath and smiles at Makarov. "Neat trick, right? It's all I've been doing in here. I probably have no more cuts and stuff under here." he gestures to the bandages.
Makarov is frozen in both amazement and horror for quite a while.
Mind racing at what he just witnessed. A child, speaking so casually about a lost magic he'd somehow used.
Healing Magic was extinct, yet here it was.
Eyes wide, Makarov stiffly hopped off the bed. "Alright, I'd prefer you not use Magic until we get to Fairy Tail... I'll go tell the doctors we're leaving right now..."
END CHAPTER---
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pat.reon: Keanu_Eugene [Read ahead & support me]
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