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Colors of the Will 'o' the Wisps Chapter 5
🕑 Added 2022-05-11 05:57:40 +0000 UTCFunny how I came back to playing the guitar when I was sad.
…My mother liked the sounds of guitar. Apparently, that’s how Dad wooed her. By playing accompaniment to her dancing. The few memories I had of her, I remember her dancing to the guitar. Dad would play it in the living room, and she would dance, twirling and swirling, her magic accenting her fluid movements sharply, softening her quick steps into smooth slides. She always seemed so light, light like a fairy, light enough to fly like one.
…Light enough to suddenly disappear when I was six.
Even after all this time, even after speaking with her one last time, even after having made my peace with her at her grave, I still found myself unbearably angry at her for leaving dad, for leaving me whenever I remembered those lonely first days after.
…And yet I still missed her. Still love her. Still found myself playing the guitar when I was lost in sadness and anger.
A jingle of coins landing my downturned fedora drew me out of my thoughts. Nodding in thanks, I leaned back and began a new song, sad and somber because fuck it. My guitar, my music, I’ll choose the mood.
I liked sitting near the riverside and busking for money. I got to practice my guitar and earn a bit of money. Not that I needed it with the payout of my missions and having Mr. Heartfilia’s accountants investing the surplus, giving me more than enough Jewels to buy the stupid shit I liked, but… there was something about counting the meager amount of money I earned with my musical skills and buying a nice cuppa coffee.
Even though it was late in the evening, there were still people passing to and fro. Most simply passed by, some tossed a coin before passing on, and a few stayed and listened. The most recent person who had donated to me had also stayed through several repeats of my favorite tune to play. By this point, even I was growing tired of being angsty.
Deciding to award such patience, I looked upland smiled, “Any reques-- Oh, it’s you.”
I didn’t mean that in a disgusted or annoyed way. I was just shocked to see a girl with Fairy Tail’s guildmark on her shoulder.
I didn’t expect any of the guild members to be out and about right now. I figured they’d still be at the party. …To be fair though, the party had probably died out right after I ruined it with my rant at Master Makarov.
Fucking hell.
Long blue hair, innocent floral dress, the girl was… surprisingly short. I was sitting on one of the benches and I could still stare her directly in the eye even as she was standing up. This was Wendy… Marshal? No. Marvell. Wendy Marvell. The youngest Dragon Slayer of our Guild, she was aligned with Sky and was one of the rare few magical healers in the world back then. She joined Natsu’s team shortly after the Oracion Seis. Strangely enough, due to Fairy Sphere, I was actually about the same age as her now.
Her companion Exceed, Carla stood by her side, looking at me disapprovingly. White-furred with a pink bow on her tail and wearing a classy but subdued dress, she had the demeanor of a prissy-ass rich kid. Except, you know, shrunken down to a pocket-sized cat. It almost made me laugh. Reminded me of those prickly-ass rich kids at the Crocian Academy of Magic. You know, the ones who flushed your books down the toilet because you were a poor kid from the boonies and then cried for mummy and daddy when you beat their ass in the ring.
Ah, good times. Good times.
…Her demeanor also reminded me of something else though. While I joked about her being prissy, she was the regal sort of prissy. Dial it back, soften it a bit, Carla could pass for a princess. She looked a bit like… actually, a lot like another Exceed I had met. Wait, was she Miss Shagotte’s dau--
“Hello,” Wendy waved shyly before tucking her hands behind her back.
Eh, I could unravel the mystery of Carla’s parentage later. Bowing my head since my fedora was being used to busk, I returned the greeting with a strum of my guitar, “Hello.”
“I heard some nice music,” Wendy muttered, swinging back and forth on the balls of her feet, so I… uh… Came over.”
“Huh,” I muttered. Didn’t know quite what to say to that, so I just nodded with a smile, “Well. Thank you kindly then!”
The lovely thing about playing music is there’s never an awkward silence. We simply shared in the soft staccato of a melody that I finger-picked from the guitar.
“...I thought you went home,” Wendy hesitantly asked, “You know… After… the… thing.”
Ah, yes. The thing. What a remarkably polite way to call me snapping at Master Makarov. The thing. Joking aside, I appreciated her attempt to keep the levity right now.
“Home’s not far from here,” I replied, jerking my head to the direction of my house, “I just wanted to be dramatic about being depressed, and I figured playing guitar near the river fit that well enough.”
“...Good moon for it?” Wendy said, tilting her head to the side.
“Oh, absolutely,” I nodded, forcing myself to keep the tempo steady. WHy was she talking to me? Shouldn’t she hate me for snapping at Master Makarov? At least find me weird or something? Next thing you know she’s going to ask to sit next to me or something.
“...Can I sit with you?” she asked, almost as if she read my mind.
Only one thing to say to that. I am way past my limit of polite conversation. It’s a miracle I haven’t fucked this up yet.
Before I could cut in, the cat pulled at her skirt, whispering loudly, “Careful, Wendy! He’s… unsteady.”
“He’s sad,” Wendy whispered back, equally loudly.
,,,These two have no idea what subtlety is. You whisper to hide communications. You don’t whisper in front of the person you’re talking about. Behind, yes. Not in front like…
First off, to Carla, rude. I know it’s true that I’m fucking cracked, but you don’t have to say it like that. Second off, to Wendy, awkward. I know it’s true that I’m also perpetually depressed, but you didn’t have to just put it out there like that. That being said, I’m feeling more petty than embarrassed.
“I was going to say no, but now I’m going to say yes to annoy the cat,” I interrupted their conversation, still playing along, “Also, not sad. I’m melancholic.”
I strummed, leaving the two gals to look at one another in antsy embarrassment. Hey, I didn’t like pointing it out, but somebody had to. Get them to know how to properly gossip.
“Is there a difference?” Wendy asked, blushing even as she steadily ignored the previous awkwardness.
“One sounds cooler, but no. Not really,” I admitted
Wendy giggled as Carla huffed. Her giggle was soft and whispery, but oddly pleasant. I don’t know why, but it felt nice to know I made her laugh like that.
Taking a seat on the bench next to me, Wendy asked,”What are you playing?”
“Oh, just some random tune right now.”
“Mm. Sounds strangely familiar.”
“You’re not the first to say that you know,” I remarked, repeating it idly once more, “It’s one of my favorite tunes. My dad taught me the basic melody.” I chuckled softly, “Maybe it’s our Guild’s theme, eh?”
“Maybe,” Wendy kicked her legs, “Feels like a call to adventure.”
Never thought about it like that, but… now I think I’ll introduce this tune like that.
“...Sappy,” I remarked
“Oh, is it?” Wendy stammered, “I’m--”
“I don’t dislike it,” I cut her off before she could spiral, “Feels like a call to adventure, eh? Sounds perfect for Fairy Tail.”
“Oh. Thanks!” Wendy nodded, smiling, “...It seems sadder than it should though?.”
“Well, I’m in a sad mood, so I’m playing sad music.”
“Oh, sorry. You were just…” she trailed off.
“So angry earlier?” I finished for her. Hey, I was a bit of an ass. Part of being classy is freely admitting that.
Wendy stayed silent, fiddling with her fingers. Carla glared at me. Eh, I’ve been glared at by worse things, and I definitely deserve this glare. I think we’re going to be buddies, Carla. You’ll call me out when I’m being stupid. I always need more people doing that.
Tossing aside thoughts of future friendship, I stopped playing and looked up at the night sky. “Yeah, but anger is just sadness you don’t want to admit at the moment,” I murmured. Letting silence fill a bit, I cringed at how emo that sounded. I angrily strummed my guitar, “Or something sappy like that. Fucking hell. Damn guitar’s out of tune.”
I wasn’t lying. I had been playing all evening, it was bound to be a little bit out of tune. Got to tune things before they went out of tune. I was pre-tuning stuff. I’m classy. I don’t get awkward. If it distracted Wendy from trying to get ‘feelings’ out of me, that’d be great. Or something.
Was I overreading this? I was probably overreading this. Let’s just tune. How’d it go again? Even Average Dogs Get Bones Eventually. E. A. D. G. B. E. Thickest to thinnest, top-down.
“...Your dad told us about the seven years,” Wendy said after I had finished tuning up to the third string.
“Heh,” I chuckled as I began tuning the G-string, “I hope he said good things about me.”
Carla cut in, “He had to apologize for you, you know.”
“Carla!”
“...Yeah, I fucked up,” I sighed with a frown, testing all six string. Fuck, something twanged when it should have twinged. I fucked something up pre-tuning things. Now I was actually going to have to tune the guitar, “Fully admit that. I’m going to apologize to Master Makarov tomorrow.”
“He also explained about what you did too!” Wendy cut in. Taking a deep breath, she spoke quickly, “He told us about how proud of you he was and talked about how you were the first one to start taking quests again and lead the charge for everybody to train and be stronger. To wait for us without just… waiting for us. Your dad thinks you’re great.”
I plucked the strings loudly, using the excuse that I was tuning to drown her out with mindless noise. Looking only at the strings, I hoped I wasn’t blushing. That’d be embarrassing. Playing a few bars, I regathered myself before correcting my father’s enthusiasm, “...I didn’t do much. Just trained and took missions. To be honest, that was mostly because I figured you guys were never coming back and… Well, I kind of gave up on your guy’s return.”
Wendy ignored the fact that I basically left them for dead, shaking her head to stubbornly say, “You still helped keep the guild’s spirit alive.”
“I really didn’t do much. Just took fights, picked missions, just… I just did stuff.”
I didn’t even start doing the big missions that got me my epithet as the Fiamme Dell’Arcobaleno until I was 12. Before that, it was just me running around and fighting every damn arsehole that tried shitting on our guild.
Hellfire, I even went to the Crocian Academy of Magic for like… two years to try and drum up goodwill with the Magic Council. Waste of two years too, since I practically failed so hard in the classes that the only reason I didn’t get kicked out was because I got expelled for beating up this fucker of a teacher.
I’d do it again. Fucker was creeping on Sherria. Last I checked, he lost his job after evidence showed.
Point is, I made more problems than I fixed.
Shaking her head, Wendy disagreed, “Not according to them. They all apologized for you, but they also talked about how much you did for the Guild. You dragged them out of just waiting with your passion for everything! You helped take care of Asuka. You got Droy to get back into shape and you helped your dad plan out the new way the guild works and you did so much stuff! Did you really get Nab to finally do missions, by the wa?”
Okay. Wow, why is she so determined to uh… whatchacallit? Build me up? It was nothing special. I focused on tuning even though I had just finished doing that.
Trying to force my cheeks under control, I mumbled an answer to her last question, “I got annoyed with his wishy-washy piss-assery about a mission only he could do. He kept on getting the guild into more debt everytime he dumped a mission halfway through. ...Told him that if he didn’t stop half-assing missions, I was going to halve his ass.”
Wendy nodded, “That’s what he said too.”
“I’m not going to apologize,” I strummed, finding pride in successfully tuning a guitar without the use of a tuning Lacrima. “He was weighing down the guild back then.”
“No, no!” Wendy shook her head, “He’s actually thankful that you helped him get past that block.”
“...I may have hit him on the head too hard then. Definitely going to have to give him a checkup.”
“Everybody who stayed in the seven years thinks you’re great. A bit rough, but great”
“Yeah, I am great,” I nodded, arguing with her over… something. I don’t know what, but it’s important to correct her misconception, “Great at fighting and shit. Just that. Nothing else.”
Wendy pouted, “You’re kind.”
Why is she so stubborn about this!? We literally just met.
“I just confessed to threatening to halve the ass of a half-assed man.”
Carla nodded, eyebrow raised in confusion, “That he did. If he’s anything, he is brutally honest. And just plain brutal.”
Thank you, Carla. You know what I am.
“That’s the thing. He’s just honest,” Wendy frowned at her friend before aiming the frown at me to repeat, “You’re just honest. I think you try to help, and you do help, but you’re just… rough about it.”
“I made the Master cry,” I reminded her.
“Yeah, and you feel bad about it?” Wendy asked.
…I thought you were supposed to be a ditz. Why are you being so pushy and… perceptive?
“...Oh, hey, I finished tuning,” I grunted, “Here’s the same song from earlier, but with less depression.”
Changing from minor to major, I played the song just a tad faster to help vent my feelings. If the previous version sounded like a sad remembrance, this one was a triumphant boast to charge forth to better times.
Letting me go through one complete round of things, Wendy, thankfully, let the previous topic drop and sighed, “Things are different now, aren’t they? Seven years is… so long.”
“It’s surprisingly shorter when you live through them. Can’t imagine how all of you feel, having lost seven years. Sorry about ruining the reunion by the way”
“Mmm…” Wendy hummed, “The party’s still going on, you know.”
“What? I thought I ruined it!”
“Just a bit, but nothing too bad. Master Makarov was still a bit sniffly when I left, but he was laughing at some of the stories your dad was telling him last I remembered.“
“I suppose that’s the best anyone can ask for.” I smiled. Hey, just because I have pentup anger at the Master doesn’t mean I want him to be sad. I was glad the old geezer was laughing again, “I hope Asuka’s having fun.”
“She shouted something about shooting your kneecaps though,” Carla answered. Wow, she really was living up to the stereotype of being catty.
“Not looking forward to that,” I grumbled. Still, glad that Asuka was getting to know the rest of them without me fucking things up. “That offer still stands, by the way. Any requests?”
Surprisingly, Carla was the one who requested the most. We ended up whiling away the night, listening to love ballads of every sort. For such a catty feline, Carla was a bit of a romantic. What a great way to end a shitty night, just playing music on the riverside with… friends. I hope they’d let me call them friends.
Guess I wasn’t that much of a fuckup if I still got to have this sort of peaceful moment.
