A nostalgic stroll [ Aven ]

Aven strolled along the Canal, still aglow from the splendor of the Parade. Truly, sight to behold, though he wished he'd been up there with them. Another time, perhaps: it'd been a long two months for him, being away from the guild, and walking along, he couldn't help but recall the reason why. A few months prior, he'd been on a job with Nessa, and he realized, in a moment of clarity, that he was slowly being outclassed, her growth monumental compared to his. It was a great weakness of him and his magic, he found out, a design flaw that he never could have anticipated: without any links to emotion, his magic refused to grow with his desire to become stronger, like other wizards.

Aven knew that, if he was to stand as a member of Radiant Light, he would need to become much stronger than he was before; if he was resolved to help defeat Castor alongside Aviel and the Valkyrie, he would need to reach an entirely new level than even that. His gait was even and calculated, bringing him to skirt the edge of one of the many Canals that ran through Magnolia. It was the same Canal he'd met Nessa the first time, and oddly, his step faltered, forcing him to catch his weight with a quick counterstep. A light, bemused voice rang out beside him, as an exceed-sized, armored angel materialized beside him, floating leisurely along. A bit of daydreaming, Aven? It's not like you to be so careless. I'd take one guess as to who you're thinking about, hm?"

Aven shook his head mirthlessly. Ever since he'd grown strong enough in Radiance, Aviel had been able to manifest a physical presence though him. That being said, he was much more talkative in his newfound form, company that while Aven appreciated, involved dealing the latter's laser sharp perception. It was difficult, if not impossible to hide anything from the miniature Seraph. "It's not a matter of guessing, Aviel, you know full well, and I trust you to keep it locked away behind that hood of yours." They'd grown closer over the last few months of training, him and Aviel: he'd found out, the Angel had kept a healthy dose of his human side, for better or worse. Personally, Aven thought it for the better, by a long shot.

A particular magicalsignature pinged Aven's senses, and he couldn't hide the smile on his face as he broke into a light jog, waving to it's owner. "Nessa! Wait up!" After he and Aviel were caught up, he positioned himself alongside her, matching her stride. "It's been a while, good to see you again; you were brilliant in the Parade!"

Aviel laughed, a sound that almost mimicked the light ringing of silver bells. He floated upward to match Nessa's height, his golden eyes flashing inquisition just as brightly as his expression became. "Right, as always, little one. Well, it's difficult for me to call you that, judging by my stature," He chuckled, an action that caused his body to quiver slightly in it's gravitational defiance, the loftiness of his words diminished in no small part by the innocent, childish voice he spoke with, "It seems the both of you are daydreamers, today. Makes me wonder..." Aven batted him away, sending the angel spiraling over the water, the sound of giggling trailing in his wake.

Aven shook his head, his exasperation more than evident. "Wonder to yourself, Aviel." A small sigh escaped his lips, and he raised his hands on a half shrug. "He's been manifested for a month and a half now, helping me with my training. He claims that his condensed form has no affect on his temperament or personality, but I can't remember the last time I read of an Angel being impish. It sounds contradictory to me." Aviel was steadily gaining on the two, in no particular hurry. A small turnabout, and Aven was smiling brightly once more. There was something off about Nessa, her emotions seemed jumbled and flustered. Perhaps, something had happened while he was gone... he rued the thought, his promise resurfacing in his mind. Hoping was all he could do, for the moment. "Enough about me, though; you've gotten so much stronger since I last saw you! I could sense you from practically the other side of town, just what have you been getting yourself into lately?" It was an exaggeration, of course, he'd only sensed her several hundred meters away, but it was a far cry better than Aven's own presence. Yet another addition to the growing list of downsides of his Circle magic. He'd have to keep a tab, perhaps there were modifications he could attempt to rectify the issues?

Aven smiled as she spoke about her family, her wistful tone of voice a simple reminder of how much who cherished those around her. It wasn't foreign to him, not since he'd joined Fairy Tail, at least; it'd become second nature to want to protect each and every member, as they inched their way into his heart. Even Markus, should he get in over his head, Aven would rush to help, though it was hard to imagine the cool-headed Shadow Wizard ever losing control of a situation. There was something about the way Markus did things that irked him, the way he waltzed into any situation as though he'd already prevailed in the encounter. Aven had fought the man himself, and learned that Markus didn't seem to plan too far ahead; instead, he was simply an expert of improvisation, a trait Aven couldn't help but feel a pang jealous over.

It was a few moments before Aven realized he'd been lost in thought, even the mere concept of Markus and his neutral, 'I don't really care' attitude driving his train of thought up a wall. When did he start caring about what Markus did? It had to be that time at the parade: he'd glimpsed Markus in the crowd, across the way, and ever since, the burning question of where he'd been ached in his mind. Still, it wasn't worth losing sleep over, if Markus was back, they'd have ample time to chat, perhaps even hold a rematch. Certainly, his rival must have gotten stronger...

Aviel's meandering pursuit picked up pace, as he levitated gently over the water, not a single errant ripple in the surface to announce his presence. That phenomena was actually one of the first mysteries Aviel had unraveled after ascending into Angelhood: his particular pantheon had a strange method of flight, not actually requiring wings at all. In fact, the two wings on his back in the moment, as well as all six that his Ascended form held, had little to no bearing on flight: they were actually defense mechanisms, appendages to lash out flanking assailants and thwart attack patterns that two limbs could not keep up with. After all, many demons and unholy creatures erred toward more than two offensive limbs, not to mention their heads, which normally had means to bite and tear. To counter this, their flight had been based on the nullification of gravity, and the application of trans-positional will magic to move the body in any direction necessary. Not only did Aviel find this method much more practical in a battle maneuverability sense, it removed the glaring weakness possessed by several other pantheons, where by injuring the Angel's wings, one could ground them, and greatly limit their mobility. The side effect of this gravity nullification method, of course, was that no downward force was generated in the process of flight; a trifling matter, in the grand scheme, but Aviel remained an avid researcher of magic, and one could never be certain when even the slightest grain of knowledge would be pertinent.

Aviel's approach slowed, as he sensed doubt and confusing radiating from Nessa's aura. Peculiar, to be sure, as nothing particularly out of the ordinary had happened in their short encounter; or, at least, not that should evoke such negative emotions. Surprise, perhaps, but she'd already openly expressed that detail, and regardless, from the intensity of the emotions, she was wrestling with something important. It was only conjecture, and it may have been that he hadn't been close enough before, but he hadn't sensed any significant change in her aura since they'd met up with her on the canal. That led Aviel to believe she'd been pondering whatever haunted her for some time now, if it could supersede the usual relaxation he'd seen her exhibit around Aven: the boy tended to have that effect on people. It would certainly explain the jumbled focus she'd displayed when they first caught sight of her- something had been off from the start, she was distracted. He picked up his pace a bit, drawing closer as to rejoin their steady jaunt.

Aven kept a rhythmic step, a laugh escaping him as Nessa shrugged off her dramatic increase in magic. A common sentiment, he found, in stronger wizards, where they disregarded power as a matter of importance, and one that his Mother had always warned him not to fall into. He didn't see what was so bad about it, really, as being uptight limited one's flexibility, in the personable sense. Mother couldn't be right about everything.... right? Certainly not. "Sounds like you've been in good hands, then. The Valkyrie know how to protect their own, would make me jealous, if I didn't have Aviel watching my back."

His eyebrows raised at her mention of the Duels. He'd been looking forward to the Festival specifically for that event, the idea of testing his mettle against other powerful wizards in a show match bringing his competitive spirit to a boil. He could almost feel the adrenaline of analyzing an unknown opponent's magic mid-fight, developing a counter-strategy in the heat of the moment! It never occurred to him before, but perhaps he was more like Markus than he realized... "You'll be judging? I figured there was some reason for you not participating as a contestant, but I wouldn't have imagined you'd be an official!" He gave her a winning smile. "It doesn't matter who I face, now, I can't lose; not with you cheering me on from the sidelines!"

------------------------------------------------------------

[Word Count: 921.]
[Word Count Total: 1714/7000.]

There it was again, that doubt and confusion: Aviel had seen it enough to know, now, watching from her reaction, listening to her words- it was undoubtedly because of that note. He'd been watching, of course, when Aven's hastened retreat left the letter prematurely in Nessa's clutch, the aftermath of which he'd been expecting for some time. It seemed Nessa was withdrawing from Aven, a recoil stemming from uncertainty, and... was that, pain? There was distance forming between them, and it was beginning to dawn on him that there were issues originating beyond Aven himself; in fact, he'd take a venture to guess Aven wasn't the primary cause, though he'd like to confirm that with the girl herself. Perhaps, he could have a conversation with her, but he couldn't have Aven around for that particular chat. He hadn't brought up the subject, and in fact, hadn't planned to for quite a while, as it wouldn't help the fact at all.

Aven grinned, looking ahead while they walked. "Aviel has been training me to use Radiance more efficiently. It's quite different from my normal magic, on a fundamental level, since it works off of emotion and will, rather than logic and reason. I wouldn't say I've gotten stronger in a strict sense, but I'm definitely more confident!" His body pulsed with golden energy for a moment, and he laughed. "Fat lot of good it'll do me in the duels, though, since Radiance can't be used against good people. Perhaps I can shield my opponent, for courtesy!" Being around Nessa again was a breath of fresh air, maybe it was time for another job with Radiant Light? They hadn't done too much as a group yet, and Arcadia was still a practical stranger in terms of actual knowledge of each other. He'd place that near the top of his priorities.

--------------------------------------

[Word Count: 309.]
[Word Count Total: 2023/7000.]

Aven's smile persisted as the family had a quick chat, but his surprise was thinly veiled when Richard- Mr. Lux, inquired about a magical quandary. It was the first time he'd ever been asked to apply his craft to another person's magic, let alone the analytical sense. His experience with other wizards magic, to that point, had been limited to a hastened glance mid-combat, to gauge the power and type of spell being cast, identification of sorts. To delve into, and possibly modify, a foreign magic was an entirely new prospect, and an intriguing one at that. He gave Nessa an excited glance, only for his hopes to be ushered into fruition, as she excused him from their brief reunion, postponing the rest for later that day. He was more that happy to oblige, the elation in his voice almost palpable. "Of course, we can talk later at the guild hall. I'll see you there," His attention immediately shifted to Mr. Lux, all business and technical talk, as though the situation had flipped a switch in him, "So, Mr. Lux, you're working with alchemy: no doubt, you're using an integral matrix, to postpone any obtrusive chemical reactions... The exchange of technical jargon faded into the side street, as Aven, Richard, and Edward headed back the way they came, pouring over the notes in the little black book.

It was only Aviel and Nessa, at that point, the festival having drawn the majority of canal traffic away. A moment passed, in silence, as Aven and Richard's chatter faded into nothingness, and the sudden weight of what was to come bore down on the area. With a small gesture, Aviel's form shifted, and the light clack of sandals on the cobble announced his ascended form, his six golden wings fanning out to stretch, and settling with a slight puff of wind as they neatly folded. It was taxing on Aviel to maintain such a physical presence, to the point he would be unable to summon the slightest bit of strength, but it only felt right to address Nessa in this way. He was, after all, inquiring of a very personal issue, one that would not be given the proper respect if spoken in the voice of a cherub. Once more, his voice was subtle and smooth, like silk, and Aviel regarded Nessa with a somber expression. "I can sense the weight on your shoulders, Nessa. You read the note, then, I take it?" He didn't need to wait for an answer, her reaction was more than enough. A small sigh escaped the Seraph's chest, like a dove released from a cage. "I thought as much. Aven is new to the outside world, the blame for which, I would venture, rests squarely on my own shoulders. Drani took after Hakon more than I'd thought she would, it was a mistake that I never revealed myself to her personally. Regardless, he'd not the slightest inkling the impact such a composition could have, especially if found without context." His eyes wandered off toward the distant vision of the Guild Hall, and he began a graceful glide along the canal. "Come, walk with me. We can speak on the way."

-----------------------------------------------------

[Word Count: 525.]
[Word Count Total: 2548.]

Aviel's stride was strange to behold, his upper half appearing to glide, but sure enough, he was walking nonetheless. He glanced over as she looked to him for guidance, guilt and confusion so plain on her face: he wondered how long she'd held it. Once again, that nagging feeling of missing a piece of the bigger picture prodded at the back of his mind, an annoyance at such a crucial juncture. It wasn't often his instincts were wrong, but he'd nothing concrete to go off of. What was he missing? A slow shake of of his head began Aviel's response. "That depends on your definition of 'intimate'. Knowing Aven as long as you have, I hope this doesn't come as a shock- though I suppose there may have been some miscommunication at the Valkyrie's feast- but Aven's never had the talk. It would surprise me greatly if he was even remotely aware of what intimacy implies, given his vast experience around women. Quite simply, he's navigating through uncharted territory, feelings he doesn't understand; make no mistake, though, the letter was for you, and you alone." Aviel gave her a soft smile. "It's not a matter of whether you should tell him, but how you feel. I can tell you with certainty, the boy is not weak of heart, and he did make you a promise: if you don't return his feelings, it's better to let him know, so the two of you can go back to being teammates, and friends. It may sting him, but he's strong, he can handle a bit of pain. It'd certainly be no more intense than the guilt you're putting yourself through right now on his behalf." Her heart was a jumbled mess, even his angelic senses couldn't make heads or tails of what she was feeling. Somewhere in the chaos, he could sense feelings for someone, perhaps... even multiple people? It's possible the situation was far more complicated than he realized.

---------------------------------------

Word Count: 328.
Word Count Total: 2876.

There it was, the missing piece: a downpour of tears, followed by a torrent of emotion, her aura rife with a torturous negativity. Despair, anger, betrayal; her grief flooded Aviel's senses, almost clouding his vision in a swift darkness, tendrils of dark emotion grasping at the air around the young girl. The pain had taken on a life of its own, been allowed to fester and grow, probably over years. His smile faded in the wake of the terror that had emerged, and he knew in an instant that he needed to be careful. It had a hold on her, that much was apparent, and even if Aviel did everything in his power, such an emotional barricade was beyond his ability to soothe. His angelic power would be of no use, as it was born from Nessa herself, and thus, shared her protection against angelic interference. No, this was an enemy that had to be felled by Nessa herself, all Aviel could do was provide support.

So, he did the only thing in his power: Aviel stopped and faced her, closing his eyes, as his wings unfolded and gently wrapped around Nessa's back, pulling her into a downy embrace. She was trembling something awful, as though the pain had left her cold, both inside and out. It wasn't far from the truth, he was sure, and even if his embrace couldn't provide the warmth needed to thaw her heart, he knew whose could. "I don't know what happened, but you've been cut deep, little one; I see that, now. Such injuries do not heal easily, leaving scars that can last a lifetime. It must be unbearable, to reopen that wound, to face the pain once again." His embrace became a bit stiffer, as his muscles contracted, her grief attempting to eat away at his form. It was risky to be touching her, negative human emotions a near poison to most angels, but Aviel did not live for centuries to be beaten by trifling pain; he'd endured far worse than necrosis in his time. "The heart is both fragile, and stronger than steel. You say you cannot love again, but you've a heart still, I can sense it with all my being; it may be broken, but what is broken can always be mended." He released her softly, stepping back a pace to give her room, his wings folding once more. "Please, share your burden with me: it's the least I can do, after all you've done for Aven."

--------------------------------------------------

[Word Count: 419.]
[Word Count Total: 3295/7000.]

Aven's attention never broke from her, his eyes brimmed with tears, which he fought back. This was Nessa's time to cry, to let go of all the pent up sadness and misery, he had to be her anchor, unmoving and steadfast. The more she spoke, however, the more he realized that it wasn't possible: it was going to take time, reassurance, to help Nessa past the emotional wall she faced. No trumpets or angelic power could fell this Jericho, and worse yet, imbedded deep in the anguish lie a malignant curse, feeding her dark emotions. A constant struggle for Aviel over the past centuries, the story of his existence: his inability to interfere. In his time as a mortal, he'd devoted his life to helping those in need, but so often as an Angel, he was relegated to merely watching silently, providing the minute of guidance. He was sick of it, having so much power, yet still being powerless to help.

Moving past his own inhibitions, there was still plenty of hope in the situation, and it was closer than Nessa realized. "Losing so much, so young... I'm sure it would be easier to let go, to give up on happiness and shut out the world. But, I'm sorry to say, it's a bit too late for that." He extended a hand to rest on her shoulder. "Alverons are stubborn; always have been, always will be. More than that, even, we're bound by our word, a pact greater than magic itself. If Aven's promised to stay by you, there isn't a force in this world, or the next, that could force him to break that oath. Even if you turn him down, even if you spurned him, just like his namesake, he'll always be there when you need him most, because that's the kind of person he is." A soft smile graced his lips. "You didn't hear this from a Seraph, but selfishness isn't always a sin: it's okay to be happy, to want the best for yourself. Be proud of who you are, and you'll find that moving forward is all but natural."

---------------------------------------------------------

[Word Count: 355.]
[Word Count Total: 3650/7000.]

Unbelievable. Absurd! The crowd traveling through the corridor of the Arena cut apart like the red sea, as an overwhelmingly thick aura bid them aside. Drani Kilandre Alveron was no stranger to anger, far from it, but the fury that exuded from her body this day was not of the ordinary sort. Fueled by broken expectations, and the bitter taste of dishonor, her magical presence ran rampant around her, barely restrained as her thoughts stewed. To think that any son of mine could have his concentration broken so easily, by such a paltry annoyance, as that! What purpose does this Fairy Tail even serve, if it cannot sharpen his wit and talent? Her face had long since twisted into a scowl. Aven had grown in magical skill, perhaps, but he was the same as ever, losing focus when it mattered the most. She couldn't help but recall their countless training sessions, his constant incompetence when it came to pressing the advantage, finishing a fight. It was the same, every time: he would start a battle strong, establish his ground, then falter when it came to the finish, resulting in a swift strike to the opening he left. 'If we do not learn from history, we are doomed to repeat it', a phrase Drani was quite fond of. Not that the woman was particularly fond of anything, at the moment.

Drani gritted her teeth, the sound of her boots clacking angrily on the concrete. If Aven had simply lost, it could've been chalked up to facing a superior opponent. After all, Leona Jarnefeldt was the Guildmaster of Silver Wolf, it would have been a simple matter of experience. Instead, he'd displayed a clear, unbridled advantage, all but guaranteeing his victory within the first minute of the fight. Not only that, but he'd summoned more Circles than he could manage, some newfangled attempt at showmanship, and subsequently lost control of their function. She scoffed to herself; did her son really believe she hadn't read through his notes? She knew exactly how his magic worked, and not a moment went by in that fight that she wasn't holding back the urge to descend the stands and smack him upside the head. The boy knew full well his opponent didn't have the means to stop a full barrage from his circles, he learned that not a few moves in, when she'd taken the spells head on. He held back to such a degree, her aura had bent the seat she was sitting on.

It was no matter, by that point, as she exited the Arena, storming toward the exit Aven would likely emerge from. She'd see to it that he left Fairy Tail for good, studying under her tutelage alone. She'd been lax, allowing him to pursue his silly side project of Circle Magic, joining a magical guild to make friends, and go on adventures. A mistake, as she saw it, and one she intended to rectify: the only good that came of it might, perhaps, have been the Lux girl he'd brought home. Something about the girl sparked recollection in her mind, but she still couldn't place it. A pity, really, that she couldn't use her magic to jog her own memory.

Speak of the devil... There was the girl, straight in her path. She'd grown in strength considerably, she could tell; a rumor had reached her ear that someone of the Lux family had become a Wizard Saint, but the details had been muddled by various slander and talk of collusion with the Council. What was she doing here? Looking for Aven, most likely, but there wasn't a need for that. For the moment, the Lux girl was nothing but a distraction for her her boy. It was time she made that little tidbit clear. "Miss Lux, how long has it been? You have impeccable timing: I was just searching for a representative of Fairy Tail, to speak of the withdrawal of my son." Drani's words were polite enough, but the venom in her magical presence alone was enough to alert even a passerby that this was no cordial conversation.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

[Word Count: 689.]
[Word Count Total: 4339.]

Drani's thin smile dropped in an instant as the girl before her responded with as much vigor as her own opening remark. There was fire behind her eyes, a confidence that the girl had been lacking when they first met. It was an improvement, she'd admit, but not one she'd wish in a verbal opponent. Drani's stance became stiffer, more imposing, as she took a second glance over Nessa's features, a memory clawing at her mind. Something in that defiant, unbudging glare... Drani's face lit up with recognition. Antoinette... It was impossible, wasn't it? She was the spitting image, but that cougar was still on the prowl, Drani would have heard if she'd found a man, let alone had a daughter. No, Antoinette wasn't her mother, but she did have a Sister once: Cordelia. A niece, then, no doubt sharing the same monstrous magically Prowess as her Aunt. The girl had gone from a nuisance to an obstacle, and if she was anything like Antoinette, Drani wouldn't be able to simply dodge around her interference. Still, there were ways she could convince the girl.

Drani let her aura flow freely, hoping the added weight would aid the impact of her words, though it was a fleeting hope at that. There was no longer a world of difference between them; only a horizon. "Excuse me, Nessa Lux, but I think you forget just who I am: I am Drani Kilandre Alveron, a General of the Fioran Military, and Aven's mother. It isn't a matter of law: as a member of the Alveron family, Aven will heed my words regardless." Her eyes were narrowed to a point. "You wouldn't need to ask such a rediculous question, had you been watching the same fight I did. Weren't you a judge? It's clear as day, Aven is not fit for wizarding, nor has he ever been. This was an eventuality, not a coincidence; I knew from the moment he left the house five years ago that I would need to intervene at some point."

Drani paused, taking a short calming breath. Anger was a habit of hers, but it wouldn't aid her in this instance. Not against an opponent that held so many cards. "Listen, both you and I  know he is a powerful magic user. I've seen his work, I know my son's abilities better than anyone. All the same, he'll never make it as a wizard, for one simple reason: he's too soft. Tell me, exactly what do you think would have happened if that was a real battle, and he passed out in front of a dark wizard? Do you think they would have shown him the mercy he showed them? Do you think he could have let those magic bolts hit their mark, even if he knew their target was out to kill him?" She shook her head. "Of course not. My son hasn't the heart to kill a fly, much less stain his hands in the blood of another person, regardless how black or tainted. He would try to help them, lead them to a brighter future, even at the cost of his safety." Drani's lips formed a solid line. "Does that sound familiar to you, Nessa Cordelia Lux?"

---------------------------------

[Word Count: 521.]
[Word Count Total: 4860/7000.]

Drani knew in an instant that she'd crossed a boundary not meant to be crossed. Nessa began a tirade, tearing her assumptions and observations apart like wet paper. At first, however, she remained indignant. Family obligations weren't enough to override the guild's rules? How silly, she didn't need to break a single stricture, only order Aven home as the head of the Household. The girl was making presumptions, as though Drani were intending to force Fairy Tail's hand: it was obvious she knew nothing of a noble's call to honor, their duty to the family name. She found it tiresome, if nothing else.

The following rebuttal, however, was not so easily undressed. It was true, the barrage, if not dismissed as it had been, could have caused a catastrophe in the recent Alliance: all of which, Aven, and in turn the Alverons, would have been directly responsible for causing. Such an event... it would have surely Fiore asunder, and with one of the army's generals directly involved in the war's genesis, Fiore's forces would have been without a crucial component, as she'd have likely been barred from participation at best, locked up at worst. Had Aven's considerations truly been that far reaching? Drani's cold, calculating exterior fractured slightly, her mind beginning to race, recalling the entirety of the duel under the lenses of a guild mage. Aven hadn't summoned all those Circles out of hubris or ignorance, it was so clear to her: her son had, indeed, known full well that he could have quickly ended the fight with a few bursts of a full powered Seeker Circle,but his intention, from the start, hadn't been to simply win the duel. Aven's intention had been to make the fight look close and dramatic, to not only make both the Fairy Tail and Silver Wolf guilds look powerful, but to also strengthen the bond between them in friendship. Even if he'd lost in the end, he'd been after a complete, and total victory, not only for himself, but for his Guild and their allies as well.

Drani was beginning to reel. She'd kept such a close eye on Aven since he'd visited last, even dispatching one of her own informants to keep tabs and report back to her. She'd read over every briefing with harsh scrutiny, sent a scout to tail him on his missions, but despite all that, he'd grown up so much without her notice. The onslaught didn't stop, of course, as Nessa continued on to a deeper set fear, and in a few paragraphs, tore into Drani's psyche. She was no longer in control of the verbal battle, but her defenses couldn't stand against such a barrage. 'Instead, you would rather shut him behind closed doors...' Her mind was drawn to a vision that had haunted her nights, consumed her thoughts for a long time: it was a memory she'd drawn from Aven, the first time he'd visited home in four years, bringing Nessa along with him. A drawback of Drani's Memory Magic lie in it's strength: she was able to experience and remember memories as though they were her own. Her shock, of course, wasoverwhelming, when she'd found a memory of the brutal physical and psychological torture of her child at the hands of a Dark Mage, feeling the pain and terror as he did. It had taken everything she had to get throughout that first night, to allow him to leave the next day, without locking him behind the doors of their mansion, never to leave care again.

Just the mere thought formed a knot in her throat, as the carefully crafted demeanor of a hardened General broke apart, leaving behind only the weakened soul of a mother. Her icy blue eyes seemed to melt, as tears formed at the edges, wilting under the suddenly enormous magical pressure of the Wizard Saint before her. The words cut deeper than any knife, and no magic could stop the bleeding. As Nessa's rage induced tirade ended, there was nothing left of the hardened exterior Drani held so close. Her voice croaked out, a pathetic sound. "You say I'm scared, Lux? Well, you're right, I'm terrified: my son is out in this chaotic world of magic and monsters, with scars that bore deeper than skin. You think I would allow him into the military, you accuse me of manipulating him to become the perfect soldier. You couldn't be more wrong!" Tears feel freely down her cheeks, as feelings she'd repressed came rushing forth. "I've seen hell, Nessa Lux, and here you are, asking me to allow my baby into a battlefield of monsters worse than the devil himself?! He's no different than his big brother, but I won't lose Aven like I lost Zane; I refuse!"

Her words became a soft sob, her knees weak and frail for the first time in fifteen years. Nessa was more than right, more than she knew. Drani was a failure of a Mother, a fact the woman faced every morning, when the family picture on her nightstand had only three Alverons instead of four. She hadn't been able to save Zane back then, and she knew, deep down, that she wouldn't be able to save Aven when's the time came, either. She met Nessa's eyes, sorrow pouring down her cheeks. "You're right, I'm a failure as a mother: but all I can do is keep him close to protect him from the world. Who will protect my baby if he's beyond my reach?"

----------------------------------------

[Word Count: 921.]
[Word Count Total: 5781/7000.]

Drani cradled her face in her hands as the pain she'd born alone for so long poured from her. It hurt, not only to face the demons that has wracked her dreams and plagued her waking thoughts, but also to exhibit such overwhelming weakness. It was pitiful, she knew, but that didn't stop the tears. The bitterness of her anguish singed her cheeks, her eyes red with the strain. There was no saving face at this point, a fact she couldn't avoid, only embrace.

Nessa began to speak once more, the venom that had brought Drani to her knees having vanished without a trace. Words of encouragement, a steady stream of hope flowed through the air as the Wizard Saint laid bare a path forward. Aven would have a chance... No matter how much Drani longed to protect Aven from the evils of the world, it was impossible to shield him from all of it. She'd tried, given it everything she had, but even then, it had only held him back. Drani shook her head, thinking of all the mistakes she'd made, all those that could not be undone even with all the magic in the world. Without her notice, her little boy had become a man, and entered the proving grounds, lacking what should have been his strength.

It was finally time that Aven remembered.

Drani dried her tears, regaining a small fraction of composure. That was right, Aven was a man now, and it would do him no good to be held under her wing any longer. It may be painful at first, but ultimately, remembering the past would allow him to move forward, and become the wizard he was meant to be. If that strength could keep him safe, Drani was willing to bear any resentment from Aven for what she'd done. After taking Nessa's hand, and rising to her feet, she spoke once more. "It seems Fairy Tail wizards are birds of a feather, you all have that stubborn compassion for others. I'm sorry for everything I said, if that means anything, I hope you can forgive me some day. You seem to care a lot for my son; he's lucky to have such a friend." Drani gingerly into her military jacket, Drani revealed a small silver amulet, with an strange, teal magical gem set in the center. As though she were cradling a baby, she proffered it to Nessa. Her voice quivered slightly from the strain. "If Fairy Tail is going to be his protection from now on, as you say, Aven is going to need this. It's..." She seemed to swallow a knot in her throat, "... It's a memory stone, one I've held onto for fourteen years now. Next time you see Aven, please give him this for me. I sencerely hope that Fairy Tail will be a better family for him than I've been."

As soon as Nessa took the amulet, Drani would begin to walk away, the last bit of her strength channeled into maintaining her composure. If Nessa focused on the amulet, she could feel Aven's aura emanating from the gem, as though it were a part of him.

****

High above, on the roof of a nearby building, a wizard watched the exchange with a thin expression. There it was, passed from one hand to the other: the object of his mission. The figure could feel the tingling in his spine, a telltale sign that he didn't have time to waste. Of course, Drani just had to give onto a Wizard Saint. Raising a hand to their mouth, the Wizard stroked their chin. Could they take on both Drani and Nessa Cordelia Lux simultaneously? Possibly, but not in any quick fashion, especially with that monster, Samira Nassar, still in the city. No, keeping a low profile was best, it was merely a matter of wit, and coincidentally, the wizard had that particular skill in spades. They adjusted their tie, and sauntered off the roof. Time to get to work...

-----------------------------------------

[Word Count: 674.]
[Word Count Total: 6455/7000.]