"A healthy mind births healthy magic, or so the saying goes at the time of writing. While not a general occurence, severe enough trauma is capable of blocking one's magic to an extent. The current consensus is that the flow of Ethernano becomes unstable in resemblance of the emotional state, consequently shattering any but the most basic spell circles as they lose coherence. This matter is understandably difficult to research and requires further study."
-excerpt from "The Love of Magic"
Priscilla raced with the fading sunlight, pushing Diver to its very limit. She left several deep gouges across the land, but cared naught for them. In the end, she arrived at sunset. A heaving, sweat-soaked dragon rose out of the guildhall's floor.
"Pris?" Mirajane immediately bustled over, worried. "What happened? Is everything alright?"
She could not meet the kind woman's eyes. Conversation had halted with her arrival, all eyes on her. Makarov studied her calmly from the bar, even Laxus peered down from the second floor. Priscilla took several deep breaths to calm her thundering heart. "The village we inspected was eradicated," she began hesitantly, unwilling to explain it all. Mira would be hurt. But she had to say it. "A demon attacked and-" "What?!"
Interrupted by the shrill cry, Priscilla had no time to react when two firm hands grabbed her cheeks and painfully forced her head around. Large amber eyes met tear-filled blue orbs, the human woman shaking. "What happened to the others?" she demanded, then her voice broke: "Where are they?!"
Quiet buzzing preceded a muscled arm winding around Mira's waist, pulling her away from the giantess. The agitated woman's elbow hit Laxus' gut with a meaty thwack, but he ignored it without so much as a flinch. "Calm down already," he grunted, then placed Mira on the ground and glanced up at Priscilla.
Taking the unspoken order, she now answered Mira's question: "They took the train and should be here shortly."
"All of them?" he asked. "Alive?"
"Yes."
Mirajane finally relaxed with the reassurance, prompting Laxus to let go of her shoulder. He made way for Makarov when the old master approached, a thoughtful frown on his face. He knew, Priscilla could tell even before the question was asked: "They did not make it unscathed, did they?" He sighed when the dragon shook her head mutely. "Then let's see what we have."
New tension gripped the hall as they left; no one followed, though their somber silence held at least until the gate closed. Mira dashed away with fluttering skirts, Laxus turned to lightning and flashed in another direction, but Priscilla and Makarov walked side by side. "The next train won't come before we're there," he explained sagely. He was right, too: by the time they caught up with Mira at the station, there was no train in sight. The distraught woman stared down the railway, waiting anxiously. She gnawed on her lips, almost drawing blood when it finally arrived.
Not many people disembarked at this time of day, so Priscilla's prodigious height was unnecessary to spot the group of four. They slowly left the middle carriage, Jet and Droy helping Levy and Elfman respectively. The moment Mira saw her little brother, she broke into tears and rushed forward to hug him. Elfman twitched once, then gathered her in his arm and returned the embrace. He was crying moments later, too. The others gave them space and came together a few metres distant.
Levy chuckled mirthlessly, more tired than anything else. "How are you so fast?" she asked of Priscilla, who shrugged.
"Nevermind that. Are you alright?"
"About as well as you'd expect," the blunette returned with a sigh.
She was about to comment further when lightning struck between them, making Levy flinch back. The static made everyone's hair stand on end, revealing Laxus. Moreover, he carried a very, very displeased Polyushka currently yanking his ear. "-get it in your thick head that...." her tirade trailed off the moment she saw Elfman's lack of arm. She even let go of Laxus' ear, though her leer merely lessened by a fraction. "I'll let it slide this time, boy."
Laxus snorted. He stepped aside after putting the elderly woman down. Priscilla wanted to say hello and thank her again, but felt now was not the time; Polyushka acknowledged none of them, rather ushering Shadow Gear and Elfman along toward the local clinic with clear impatience. Jet and Droy kept supporting their friends. Mira helped steady her brother.
Once they were out of sight, Priscilla turned to Laxus with a grateful nod. "Thank you for acting so fast and bringing her." He just grunted and walked away, leaving the crossbreed puzzled. Makarov sighed quietly. Nonetheless, he smiled and made to follow his grandson.
They returned to the guildhall, where silence still reigned; everyone watched their entrance anxiously. Laxus ambled away to where the Thunder Legion sat and loomed over them momentarily. "Kick back for now," he instructed all three, "we're taking a break." Bixlow and Evergreen shared confused looks, but Freed merely nodded. Laxus did not even wait for confirmation and rather waved for Mira's junior barmaid, Alicia. "The usual."
"Ah, c-coming right up!"
Off the young woman went, right past Makarov who settled back on the bar counter. Priscilla wondered if she should say anything, but he did it first: "You can stop worrying. Everything will be fine." The tension dissipated immediately, which once again reminded her in how high esteem the guild held its master.
"What about Natsu?" Loke questioned moments later; indeed, there was no trace of the Dragonslayer.
When Makarov did not respond beyond a shrug, Priscilla chimed in: "Did he go somewhere dangerous?"
"Right, you weren't there." Loke rubbed his orange hair almost bashfully, then motioned for something in the distance. "He stole an S-rank job off the board and ran. Lucy, er, went with him." He hesitated after the blonde wizard's name, but no one commented on him being uncomfortable; Priscilla did recall some notion of him being bad with Celestial Spirit wizards. "Then Gray followed to bring them back, and then Erza came back, heard about it, and marched off to fetch them all." He shuddered there. "Brr, I really don't want to be them when she catches up."
Even Priscilla felt somewhat comforted to not be on the wrong end of Erza's legendary temper. Although usually mellow, the knightess could be mighty intimidating once agitated.
"They're probably fine," Wakaba waved off the concern, "but I get what ya mean; some of our youngsters got attacked by a demon on a normal mission. Damn weird times we live in."
"Aye," Macao agreed next to his friend, both of them enjoying some kind of drink again. "You hear anything about where that demon came from? Or why it was there?"
Priscilla had to shake her head. She only recalled one useful tidbit. "Nothing concrete, I am afraid. She did not say much beyond belittling our collective weakness. Though she did say she is, well, was with Tartaros."
The men both exchanged meaningful looks while Makarov groaned. "Tartaros? Oh great, more problems. They usually stay away from here." He immediately emptied his mug and slammed it down, then glanced back to Priscilla. "Did she say anything else?"
"No, only annoying commentary about our lack of power." Less annoying now, considering which of them was still alive. So there. Priscilla nodded to herself and switched the subject, recalling what else she learned some time ago. "Although I think she was not just a demon, but an Etherious specifically. An artificial demon built by Zeref," she added when seeing the lost looks around. Everyone got her meaning right after. "They are made with combat in mind, I believe."
"Who told you that?" Makarov inquired from his seat; he and most of the others appeared intrigued by the news. Priscilla made to respond, only to realise she made a blunder.
"A wandering scholar I met on the way back from my job in Acalypha," she ultimately said, sheepishly dragging her foot. "It never occurred to me to ask his name. He helped me learn magic, and we got to Etherious from Mirajane's Take Over. He thought it was odd that someone managed to key it to an artificial subgroup of a race." The suspicions as to Mira's lineage, she kept to herself. Going by Makarov's grimace, he might even have similar thoughts.
As if on cue, they were interrupted when a pale Mira wandered back inside, followed by Droy. She slumped at the nearest table while he settled at the bar and turned around to face the room: "Levy will heal, but she's going to keep some mean scars. Elfman's arm can't be put back on." Quite a few people winced at that and Wakaba placed a comforting arm around Mira's shoulders. Droy grimaced, too. "They need to stay at the hospital for a few days for treatment and observation."
"Where's Jet?" someone called, which received a dismissive motion.
"Went to take care of stuff. Stow away our packs, feed Levy's cat, those things."
"You should all find some rest," Priscilla remarked right afterward, a contemplative glance going toward Mira. Now that the immediate issues were resolved, she once again remembered the bag she unconciously carried along. While Cana sat down on the distraught woman's other side, she carefully rose to approach as well. "Mirajane?" Her question prompted a listless look, though she turned attentive when Priscilla took the bag off her shoulders. "Elfman said to bring this, I believe you can make use of it?"
She turned the sturdy cloth around and shook it a little, dislodging the frozen corpse within. It flopped onto the ground with a crack, but the severed head bounced off and rolled away. "Pardon," Priscilla apologised quickly, "I forgot I beheaded her." She reached for the errant part and picked it up, only to become aware of a sort of shocked silence surrounding her; everyone was staring, either at the dragon or at her victim.
"Damn it, Pris," Macao cursed, his hands over a squirming Romeo's eyes, "there's children around!"
"I... am not sure I understand?"
The shock clearly made way for disbelief, telling Priscilla that yet another of her assumptions was wrong. She did not get to figure out which one however, as hysteric laughter shattered the silence. Mira rose abruptly, walking around the table to kneel next to Priscilla's offering. "This thing hurt them?" she asked rhetorically, then giggled again. Her smile was somewhere between saccharine and deranged as she took hold of the head and stared into the demon's slack expression, her body beginning to glow on its own. "Well, I guess I should make use of this. Let's see."
The gleam intensified, quickly wandering over the demon's still form as well. Mirajane breathed in. "Take Over," she whispered. Her skin rippled as the demon's form was absorbed, bulging and buckling. For a moment, Mira grew a plume so reminiscent of a bird, her fingers turning to vicious claws. Then they reverted to normal, the woman nodding with her eyes closed. "Makes sense this goes easily," she mused in the silence. "The dead can't fight back. Her name was Kyoka."
A dark purple, almost black magic circle snapped into being above her as she stood; the air shuddered under a titanic amounts of flowing Ethernano. "Satan-" she began, only for the circle to shatter violently. Mira hiccupped and lost her balance, falling back onto her rear. There, she just sat in heavy silence before heaving a sigh. "I guess I still haven't got it back," she murmured before smiling up at the intrigued Priscilla. "Thank you, regardless. How much do I owe you?"
The question confused her, more so than that using Satan Soul apparently failed; she already figured that must be the block she heard about. "How do you mean?"
"I can't just take something this valuable from you. I only had Sitri so far, so this is a big boost if I can ever get my Satan Soul back. I've got to give you something for it. And don't say it's fine," Mira immediately cut off the expected response, making Priscilla's mouth click shut. "I insist. Money, books, rare items, contacts, whatever you want. I have some of each lying around."
"...very well." Despite having accepted defeat in this instance, the crossbreed had no idea what to ask for. "Give me some time to consider the matter."
"Of course."
"Mira."
Their attention turned to Makarov now, who studied Fairy Tail's poster girl with a mixture between worry and curiousity. "A question. Your Satan Soul used to have two forms. The normal form and Sitri, correct?" Mira nodded. "And taking over this... Kyoka, it gave you a third form?"
"I think it did, yes. Why do you ask?"
In lieu of answering, Makarov followed up with another question that gave Priscilla pause: "And you never took over any other demons?"
"No?"
Priscilla caught his thought process; two demons devoured, but three forms in total. Take Over had no automatic base form, even she knew that. Of course it could be something induced by keying it to an artificial race, but she was not quite certain about that. She would have to ask how else one could have a demonic form like that, beside being a demon. Not that throwing more questions as to her ancestry at Mira felt like a good idea, especially not right now.
"Just idle curiousity," Makarov responded to the implied question, then hopped off the counter. "Now, Priscilla? Come with me for a moment, we need to have a talk."
She did so obediently, figuring it was about the previous observations. Unfortunately, she rather received a lecture about not depositing corpses in the guildhall, regardless of species. The master explained in detail why this was an issue, much to her embarassment. She severely underestimated the fragility of human children, both in body and mind.
Afterward, the somber mood following their return persisted for several days; Priscilla spent that time skulking around Magnolia in search of something, anything to distract herself with. She visited Levy and Elfman twice a day, but also began to inquire about furniture and other amenities for her humble abode. It was not great, but at least she had something to do.
On the third day, the atmosphere began to grow lighter again; Mira's anxiety and distress slowly ebbed away, which seemingly affected everyone else as well. Levy strode inside on the fourth day, prompting a small party in her honour. The blunette cheerfully showed off the scar along her waist where Kyoka struck her. Then the door slammed open and Erza marched in, dragging Natsu inside by the ear.
All conversation ceased as the knightess strode up to where Makarov sat in his usual spot on the bar; Natsu's complaints were the only real noise in the taproom. Erza's severe expression gave nothing away as she deposited the troublemaker on the floor. Gray, Happy, and Lucy all scurried inside after the other two without a peep. Erza chopped Natsu's head to shut him up, then spoke: "I am back, Master. Things got a bit complicated."
Priscilla watched the unfolding scene from the sidelines, intrigued but also worried. Makarov kept his silence in favour of a disappointed look levelled at Natsu, who hung his head. "I see," the elderly man finally said. "What exactly happened?"
"Gray did not bring the other three back and rather decided to join the madness," Erza began in a clipped tone, shooting a dark look at the ice wizard when he made to object. He immediately cowered, with which she turned back to Makarov. "By the time I caught up with them, they were already on Galuna island and locked in battle with hostile wizards. They also managed to start on the actual mission, too." Here she sighed, running a hand through her scarlet mane. "I have to admit that Gray managed to convince me to let them finish it. He had personal business with the enemy leader and the demon hidden within the island."
The entire room grew tense at the mention of a demon, Priscilla included. Erza waved Gray forward, who cautiously stayed out of her reach. Natsu remained on the ground before Makarov, hesitantly joined by his remaining teammates. Only Lucy seemed to pick up on the shifting mood, though.
The master nodded at Gray, who was just about done shedding his shirt. He caught the garment before it hit the floor and put it back on, but began to speak in the meantime: "You probably don't remember, but I told you about Deliora back when I joined. My teacher encased him in eternal ice to stop his rampage. Iced Shell uses the caster's life force and forms their body into the prison, so breaking that ice is basically impossible." He paused there and took a deep breath before continuing. "Well, Lyon, that's her other pupil, found a way to get Deliora out. He wanted to defeat him as a way to surpass our teacher. I don't get how it works, but it's some kind of extract made from moonlight. That's what caused the Galuna job, too; the people living there are all demons, but the ritual setup made them forget and think they're humans who take demon forms."
Erza nodded a few times while Gray presented his stumbling report. Makarov listened intently, only to offer a quiet nod when he fell silent. "What happened to Deliora, then? Did your friend succeed?"
"He did," Gray confirmed with a grimace. "But after ten years in Iced Shell, Deliora was already dead. Lyon didn't get the fight he wanted."
"It was one of Zeref's demons," Natsu supplied from the ground, no longer petulant but rather thoughtful. Makarov's, Erza's, and Gray's attention instantly snapped to him, but Priscilla noticed how Mira became attentive also. The Dragonslayer shrugged. "I think the old guy who smelled like women's parfume said something like that, at least."
"Regardless," Erza chimed in, "the Galuna job can be taken off the board. I refused payment because this lot was not authorised to work on it to begin with." Only then did she become aware of the anxiety surrounding them. "Did something happen?"
This prompted a quick recounting of events in Starlet from Levy, as well as the news about Etherious demons. Priscilla understood their shock quite well, especially the horror when Elfman's arm was mentioned. She mainly kept an eye on Mirajane at first, but for once she was not depressed; rather, her undivided attention lay on Natsu during the entire story. He appeared neither angry like Erza and Gray, nor cheerful as he usually was. Rather, his expression was oddly thoughtful. She had no idea what to make of this, or why Mira seemed to think it relevant.
"Demons on the move are certainly an issue," Makarov concluded the storytelling gravely. "Fiore and the surrounding countries are on high alert, but nothing else was observed so far. As we understand, the perpetrator was one of Zeref's creations and not a common demon, children. Be sure not to blame them for crimes they did not commit. There are far too few natural demons left thanks to prejudice and overzealous wizards, anyway."
The guild accepted his wisdom somberly, though he himself shattered the mood with an echoing clap. "That said, time for punishment. Natsu, Gray, you're getting that." The young men grew chalk white and everyone else winced in sympathy, even Erza; except for Lucy who was just as confused as Priscilla. Unfortunately, no one explained. Makarov then turned to the blonde and Exceed. "Lucy, Happy, you two did not instigate this madness or went with orders to retrieve Natsu, but you both went along with it regardless. So for the next month, you will stay after sunset and help clean the guildhall. Without any magic, just to be clear."
Two dejected "Aye" were their only response and Makarov laughed. "But for now, we celebrate your safe return! Mira!"
"On it!"
Off she went to get more drinks and the atmosphere changed entirely once more. The whiplash Priscilla felt left her settled on the ground for long minutes, uncertain how to treat this new situation. Then she pushed her worries aside and joined the party.
The next two days remained a little weird. Normalcy eventually returned around the time Elfman was released from the hospital. With a full week up since Starlet, Priscilla decided it was time she got back to proper work. For her next job, she picked a mission about supplying smaller villages; the item box Erza taught her and Priscilla's own speed through Diver were a perfect fit.
So she picked up everything at once and began to make her way across Fiore again; it was not a large mission, though she still made better time than expected. By noon the following day, she had delivered to all seven villages and shook the last elder's hand; just as she was about to leave however, a familiar face appeared by her side. Dark eyes studied her curiously, a friendly smile on his features; he looked different by day, though his black robe and equally black hair made him quite distinct.
"What a surprise to meet you out here," he greeted with a gentle wave. "I see you got used to Diver."
"I did indeed," Priscilla responded while inclining her head in turn. "It is a pleasure to meet you again." She truly had hoped to meet him again in her travels across the country. "How have you been?"
"Quite well, all in all. Sometimes I do meet bothersome people, but most are pleasant to talk to." So saying, he smiled at Priscilla when the giantess crouched by his side. They stood a ways off from the nearest house, unobstructing but still in sight of the village. "I mostly kept wandering the countryside to ponder. How about yourself?"
"Well, where do I start?"
And it was indeed a curious thought; so much happened the past weeks since their last encounter. Not to mention she felt news about Atlas Flame and the Dragonslayers ought to not be spread too far. In the end, Priscilla decided to tell him about the events in Starlet and to be careful; his smile froze over and fell away entirely once Kyoka came into the story. She felt her own mood grow bleak as well, but also recalled a question Levy could not answer. "And that is why I was hoping to learn healing magic," Priscilla concluded. "But all I got from others is that it was lost despite its utility. Do you know why?"
Her friend wiped his eyes at first, removing wetness that accumulated over the tale of carnage. "I do," he admitted, then absently flicked an avalanche of glowing orbs toward a duo of children sneaking up on them to listen in. Their delighted cries and attempts to catch them created an uncanny backdrop to his words: "While healing is powerful and potent, the problem with it is that utilising this branch of magic requires knowing the body's makeup; to prompt the correct parts into growing back, or knitting bones together correctly. An incompetent healing wizard is just a particularly gruesome killer. And on top of that, a competent healer can quickly and easily manipulate a body's growth. Horrible mutations lie that way, people turned into mindless beasts or shambling monsters. So any prospective healing wizard would require intelligence, knowledge, and impeccable morals; needing all of these together made it too tedious to guard the discipline from others, so rather it was left to be forgotten."
"I see," Priscilla murmured; she had never considered the implications of a magic that influenced the body directly. It was so obvious in hindsight, though. "I shall refrain from it, then. I could not be trusted with such a power."
He did not comment on her musings, but rather moved on: "Speaking of learning a new discipline, I take it you brought Diver to enough proficiency and wish to branch out?" Priscilla gave a simple nod and he clapped his hands in delight. "Wonderful! Is there anything in particular you were considering?"
"Well, Aera did intrigue me, but I heard it was difficult to learn."
"The Exceed magic? Curious."
"You know of Exceed?" She studied her friend curiously, taking note how he froze momentarily. "How so? They are not native to Earthland."
At first he chuckled and rubbed the back of his head, but it quickly transitioned into a sigh. "You are right. I visited Edolas a few years ago and met the Exceed there. They were working on something big to save their race from extinction back then, so I lent a hand."
"Pardon, extinction?"
"Ethernano deprivation. It is fatal for Exceed and detrimental for humans here on Earthland, both inherently magical and linked to it since birth." He shook his head softly, disrupting Priscilla's quiet worry. "With Exceed appearing here, I figured they succeeded in their efforts. Anyway, Aera is not something I would recommend for you yet; it belongs in the particularly difficult disciplines, well, at least for humans. We do not have any inherent sense of flight like a bird or Exceed has, and so need to painstakingly learn it even when we manage the intricacies of growing wings."
Priscilla felt she might have a certain advantage, what with her entire race being born to claim the skies. Nonetheless, she figured she should rather defer to his wisdom once more; he had not led her wrong thus far, though the prospect of flight remained tempting. "Very well. What would you recommend, then?"
"We have quite a few options," he reassured, absently turning the orbs from earlier into a rainbow carpet that carried the children to their waiting mothers. "Heavenly Body magic might be interesting to you; it offers a versatile set of spells and favours speed as well as dexterity. Quite complementary of Diver, too. Greater versatility than that would lie in runic magic, which allows to inflict any kind of rule on an area. Or perhaps Telepathy? Silent communication is a force multiplier in larger engagements, not to mention useful to any creative mind. Maybe plant magic, or lightning-" "No."
Her sudden refusal brought his musing up short. Priscilla quickly shook her head. "No lightning," she elaborated. "My kind is averse to it." Then she pondered what else he suggested so far. "Runic magic sounds like a lesser version of my innate powers, so I would not give it much of a priority at this time. I have to admit, Heavenly Body magic does intrigue me."
"Heavenly Body magic it is." He nodded to himself and drew a stack of parchments from nowhere. "What you have to understand is that it aligns with Celestial Spirit magic, in that both connect to the stars that dot the night sky. Technically, the spirits use a special kind of Heavenly Body magic among their own powers. They can instinctively access power from whatever constellation they are aligned with. That is actually where the discipline was adapted from. Now, the basic spell circle is this."
His impromptu lecture concluded, he produced another pattern for Priscilla to copy. She studied it carefully, slowly shaping her Ethernano. Meanwhile, her friend created a second circle and closed his eyes to focus. "But I can definitely recommend script magic to you, for later," he remarked. "Thought Copy."
And just like that, with a vial of ink thrown into the gleaming circle, letters began to inscribe themselves on the parchment. Dozens of pages were filled with sharp writing and diagrams within seconds, then offered to the stunned crossbreed. "Here is everything you will need to learn the discipline. There is too much to it to grasp in a single tutoring session."
"Astonishing," she murmured while receiving the parchments and storing them in her own item box. "To be able to turn your thoughts into writing directly, you must be truly wise."
The response she received was short and wistful: "I always loved magic."
After that, she returned to shaping her spell circle. Humbled though she was, Priscilla's mind began to wander and soon dragged back a memory from earlier in the week. "I just remembered," she began sheepishly, "I never asked your name." She kept working, but took notice of the lack of response; he did not meet her curious gaze, which hurt a little bit. She slowly moved past the feeling and smiled anyway. "But if you prefer not to tell me, I shall refer to you as 'friend' until such a time."
He smiled back now, clearly relieved and delighted by her declaration. They quickly switched back into a long conversation about magic that lasted long into the night.
The next morning, a tired but content wizard saw Priscilla off before making his way out of the village. He made certain to take another path than her, but the children waylaid him with demands of pretty colours and magic; he just could not resist and entertained them another hour before saying goodbye. They waved cheerfully and shouted after him to come back soon, but he knew it would be a while; getting attached never ended well, after all. For now , the curse began to act up; he willed it back down for the time being and sought solitude.
The moment he began to wander down a slope however, he saw her and his mood took a downturn. Black hair cascaded down her back and a navy blue dress ran down her voluptuous figure. Aside from the generous cleavage, it was slitted all the way to her waist. Perhaps she wished to entice him. He figured it was mostly just the chosen, or expected wardrobe a councillor of the Magic Council would wear. Not that she was here in her official function.
Resigned to yet another long conversation, he merely walked past her, ignoring the kneeling woman. "Ultear Malkovich," he greeted, which made her head snap up.
"You know my name?"
He did not respond and rather kept walking; she quickly scrambled to her feet and followed, delightely chattering at him: "It is such an honour to meet you in the flesh!" And so it went, a hundred meaningless platitudes interspersed with requests for lost knowledge. He barely managed not to groan in annoyance.
"So I beg of you, Lord Zeref," she finally ended, "please grant my Master of Grimoire Heart an audience."
He stopped for the first time since they met, having made certain there was no one in sight in either direction. Ultear stared at him hopefully, smiling oh so brightly. Her expression faltered slightly upon seeing the lack of emotion on his.
"No," Zeref said, and promptly erased her memories of the entire conversation. Centuries of knowledge and practice wrangling a divine curse through force of will were brought to bear on the young woman's mind; strong as she was, she could not resist for long. He utterly erased everything Ultear said to him, the conversation itself, and then him. Then he replaced the memory with a fake notion of mistaking someone else for him.
He left behind a dazed Ultear, staring into nothing for another ten minutes before his grasp would fade. Zeref sighed to himself, having had this conversation at least seven times now; she stopped giving him any new information after the fourth. For now, he wanted a deserted place to let his curse run wild for a time. A quick teleportation brought him far away from Ultear, who was only one step above any of these silly cultists he kept hearing about. Zeref really wished people would stop looking for him.