After wrapping up the mission and turning it in, our quartet split up again. Natsu and Gray went their separate ways, and on the way out, I spotted Laxus heading into the guild. I broke off from Erza and doubled back for the blond, since I had a small piece of business with him. No point letting an important experiment gather dust. I walked up to the guy, met his raised eyebrow, stuck out my hand, and zapped him with lightning.
"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Laxus immediately puffed up, not having the first clue what I was doing or why.
"Scientific inquiry, colleague," I deadpanned so cleanly he didn't even know how to respond. Then I just kept going: "Your resistance to lightning is remarkably high. Your hoodie didn't even singe. Most mages can't pull that off even at the top of their game, which pretty much confirms that resistance to your own element is a trait unique to Dragon Slayers. On that note, thanks for your participation. I won't be bothering you again anytime soon."
I turned on my heel and walked away lost in thought, feeling his gaze drilling into my back. The kind of gaze that says someone very much wants to beat the hell out of you but is holding it together. More out of sheer bafflement than any newfound restraint, probably.
My mind, meanwhile, chewed over the question of my own power. That big blond bruiser had received his in some roundabout way from an outside source, something that wasn't available to me. As for what was available, after a good deal of time I'd grown fairly comfortable using magic the way it was done around here. Meaning that beyond the raw growth that came from expanding my magical container, my output also grew with understanding and habit, with learning how to actually use what I had.
The only problem was that I still hadn't hit the numbers someone like Erza could put out during an ordinary session. And that was saying nothing of how her output spiked when things got dangerous.
I had a sense of what I was supposed to feel, and I could feel something, just never quite the right thing. My belief kept running headfirst into a wall of deep-rooted skepticism, some part of me that simply refused to accept that magic had to be believed in and not just understood.
Anyway, in the interest of breaking through this plateau, I'd arrived at some ideas. Possibly not very smart ones, but they seemed promising.
A couple of days later, though the preparation had honestly taken much longer, I had the compound I needed and set off with my little sister to find Makarov. The old man had a very important role to play in my plan.
"Lian, are you sure this is worth it? Your container isn't huge, maybe, but you already use it with incredible skill," Erza said, launching into her now-familiar attempt to talk me out of it. I cleared my throat.
"My magical container is fine. It only looks small if you're comparing it to yours, or to certain notably gifted individuals."
"Even so. Even if you've checked everything and you know what you're doing, something could still go wrong."
"That's exactly why I need you. And Gramps. Relax, everything's going to be fine."
Before long, we were in Makarov's office, and I started laying out my request. He listened for about two minutes, and by the end of it, the skepticism on his face was nothing short of spectacular.
"So you want to somehow amplify the parts of your brain responsible for emotion and suppress the parts responsible for critical thinking? All so you can learn to believe in magic. And we're here to stop you if you start going off the rails," the old man summarized, stroking his mustache. "Is this safe?"
"Porlyusica cleared the compound," I said, waving the vial of liquid that was only supposed to make my ethernano more pliable around my head. I tactfully chose not to mention that I'd be performing the actual neural adjustments myself.
"Hmm." He drilled me with a look for another five seconds, then simply shrugged. "Alright, you little punk. I'll keep an eye on you for the fifteen minutes you mentioned. Just not in here..."
A few minutes later we were in the back courtyard. Under Erza's worried gaze and Makarov's calm one, I drained the vial and went still, closed my eyes, and readied myself to perform the necessary operation using Soul Energy.
Soon enough, right there in my Sphere Vision, the world around me started getting intensely vivid. Instead of its usual steady current, my mind began overflowing with contradictory thoughts. The consciousness of soul and body were connected, each capable of influencing the other, and so the new sensations washed over me completely.
My mind seemed to be changing right before my eyes.
"...Lian," Erza called gently, though her voice hit me way louder than usual. "You asked me to remind you that you're supposed to be practicing magic right now. And believing in it."
I turned toward my sister and the old man with a slightly jerky motion as a flood of emotion crashed through my head.
Right, magic! The thought exploded in my mind like a firework. This is genius! How could I have gone even a second without thinking about it! Erza...
My thoughts, which had just shot forward like a runaway train, blazed up into one massive realization. Then, stopping dead in their tracks, a new wave of clarity washed over me.
It turned out I felt such profound love for the people in front of me. Such overwhelming joy. They were so incredibly amazing, it turned out!
"You're like a goddess of magic who has granted me the greatest enlightenment! And Gramps, you're like the sun, but pocket-sized! I love you both so much!" My lips broke into a huge grin completely on their own.
"Ahem, kid. Watch yourself," Makarov said, eyeing my blown-out pupils with something that wasn't quite calm.
"Lian... are you sure you're alright?" Erza asked, alarmed, which sent another bolt of revelation through my mind, because of exactly what she'd pointed me toward.
"Of course!" I turned my attention back to the world around me. The grass was shining an even more intense green, like polished emeralds, and the sky had gotten so incredibly beautiful, so incredibly golden. "I can feel it! I can finally feel the magic! It's everywhere!"
I ran over and grabbed her hand.
"You've been eyeing that new Heart Kreuz collection. Right now I'm going to conjure you that outfit, my dearest little sister!" Magic ignited at my will, and a few bursts of light crackled around us as the girl's clothes shimmered and rippled... but refused to transform. "Strange, didn't work. But maybe..." I turned my hand toward Makarov, who had somehow tensed up even further, and fired a beam of light straight at him. "You're the Guild Master! Receive my belief! Grow even stronger, and even shorter!"
When the beam hit the old man, all it did was make his hair stand on end above his wide eyes. His power didn't change. And he did not, in fact, get shorter.
"Straaange," I said again, drawing it out.
"Alright, that's enough of that," Makarov said, planting his fists on his hips. "And actually, best if you just step away from us!"
I froze, then took a step back. Another wave of thoughts swept through my mind, and then yet another idea struck like lightning.
"Wait... this is genius! How did I not think of this sooner?" I took another step back, then launched into a chaotic, spasmodic dance like some kind of shaman in a fever dream. "Magic loves movement! It flows through the body when the body rejoices!"
With each sweep of my arms, more flashes began appearing, and the air started giving light random shoves from different directions. The two of them were looking at me like I'd completely lost my mind, while Erza's eyes filled with even deeper alarm.
And then... another flash of understanding detonated in my head! Erza. Makarov. They were the anchors of my belief! How could I possibly not have thought of this sooner?!
Under their renewed looks of astonishment, I grabbed both of them at once and kept right on dancing, casting some powerful magic in the process. I honestly couldn't tell you what spell at that point. But before my beloved companions could react to any of it, I stopped dead.
Another realization tore through my mind. Their love is too strong. It's going to burn me from the inside out like a supernova! Of course, that was why Erza was worried! She'd understood from the very beginning and hadn't wanted me to come near!
"No, I can't be near you," I said, stepping back and thrusting a defiant fist toward the sky. "To save everyone, I have to run and spread my new magic across the world!"
My body turned on its own and broke into a sprint. But a firm hand grabbed me from behind.
"No, Lian, that's enough! We can see you're not yourself, so don't you dare run from us!"
"Noooo! Let go, we'll explode!" I screamed in a panic, completely unable to understand why she was holding me back.
"Kid, your sister's right. What you did back there was a mistake," Makarov said, nervously smoothing his hair.
My eyes darted around wildly, searching for an exit. How was I supposed to get out of this? My little sister wouldn't let me go, and then we'd definitely collapse in on ourselves!
But then, as with all truly brilliant ideas, it came to me in a flash.
Winding my free arm behind my back the way cartoon characters do right before they pull off the impossible, I simply teleported. Admittedly not in the direction I was facing. I ended up flying into the guild building's wall, upside down, feet in the air. But it worked! Because I believed I could teleport!
"It worked! I'm a god of spatial movement!"
"What?!" Erza stared at the empty air where I'd just been standing. Then a grim determination settled over her face. "No... I am not letting you lose your mind too."
"Kid! Where did you learn proper Teleportation?! It's not even in the library!" Makarov was openly flabbergasted.
Their emotions were a bit beyond me right then. What mattered was what they did next.
My sister and the old man moved toward me, so I immediately launched into a series of rapid short-range teleports. One second I was to Erza's left, the next behind Makarov, and then I was flying backward through a second-floor window of the guildhall.
Crash.
"Don't come any closer! I'm too dangerous for you!" I shouted, then materialized on the apex of the roof in a gargoyle crouch, pure Batman, and spoke in a grave, serious voice: "I must carry magic to every corner of Fiore. This is my path."
Then I immediately dove straight down like an arrow, directly at the old man. His hand enlarged in an instant, reaching to catch me, but my body vanished right before his fingers closed.
"You won't catch me," I assured them, draped in a completely unnatural position across a nearby tree branch. "You can't stop magic!"
My body lurched, and I was flat on the ground in a clearing. I scrambled to my feet and started running.
"Stop, Lian!" Erza called out behind me.
"Freeze, you little punk!" Makarov launched himself after me, but I dropped into a teleport at the last second and slipped right through his grasp.
The chase was on. My heart was slamming in my chest as waves of giddy exhilaration crashed against flashes of terror that something awful was about to happen. I made for the riverside and disappeared into the woods.
Erza was fast. Makarov was even faster. On foot alone, I couldn't have outrun either of them. But the short-range teleports kept letting me slip away.
Unfortunately, it wasn't long before I noticed something unpleasant: my magic was running out. So I grabbed a squirrel from a hollow in a tree and attempted to transform it into a flying carpet to make my escape... which didn't work.
After that failure, I kept trying to run, but they weren't letting me go anywhere. Trees blurred past as I bounded from side to side like a rabbit, popping in and out of short teleports.
It ended abruptly. Makarov finally caught up. His enlarged hand flashed, and then there was darkness.
I came to, as tends to happen with uncomfortable frequency in my life, in Erza's arms.
"Lian... are you okay?" Her voice was heavy with worry.
"Yeah, I'm fine." I opened my eyes, paused for a moment to piece everything back together, and felt a quiet wave of bewilderment at my own recent thought process. "We're not going to explode. I have no interest in running. Spreading magic across Fiore is not, in fact, my path..."
She pulled me tighter, and I lifted my arms and hugged her back. The position looked a little odd given where we were in our respective growth spurts. Erza currently had an inch or two on me.
"I was terrified."
The memories of the last hour flickered through my mind again, and something shifted in my chest. A quiet, uncomfortable understanding settled in, and a crooked smile found its way onto my face before I could stop it.
"I'm sorry. You thought I'd lost it, like that blue-haired bastard, didn't you?"
"Yeah."
"...I have plenty of excuses, but I'll keep them to myself. I'm glad you tried to pull me back. Now, can we spend a little time together?"
She nodded slowly. I climbed out of her hold, scooped her up myself, and carried her off under her wide-eyed stare. That short wave of gloom sitting on my chest was not something I wanted to dwell on, so our path turned toward our favorite bakery in Magnolia.
Once the mood had cleared, Erza, still being carried, lit up with curiosity.
"So. What were these excuses of yours?"
"Ha. I read somewhere that nobody wants to hear them."
"Come on, out with it," she said, with the impatient and perfectly normal energy of a teenager who genuinely wanted to know.
"Same as always. I was sure it'd be fine, the effect was temporary, and you were with me."
"It felt like your thoughts were just lurching from one thing to the next. And you completely believed each one with your whole heart. That's terrifying, you know. Something dark could've gotten into your head."
"That's exactly why I needed my favorite little sister there. To keep my feelings orbiting in the same range as what I feel for you."
"So you think I'm a beautiful godde—wait," she caught herself at my expanding grin and pressed a finger to my lips, still being carried like a princess. A flush crept across her face. "Stop embarrassing me. Or I'll start reminding you what you called Master Makarov."
"Ahem." Instead of trotting out yet another excuse about being yanked to extremes, I wisely changed the subject. "So. What kind of cake do you want?"
Twenty minutes of dedicated pastry consumption later, we left the bakery thoroughly content. Erza, equally stuffed, headed home to read a novel in peace. I headed back to the guild.
"Elian!" I hadn't made it far inside before Natsu stopped me, burning with curiosity. "Gray said he saw you doing some seriously cool dancing earlier. Show me?"
He blinked at me with those big, innocent eyes.
I looked up at the ceiling for a moment and considered. Maybe I shouldn't have run that experiment in the back courtyard. Rumors could start going around. My gaze slid to the silver-haired boy in question, who was currently laughing into his fist and shooting glances my way. He went noticeably pale and froze the second he met my face, which had settled into the particular expression of Hans Landa. Then again, no. This is manageable. Someone could get better acquainted with fire. Someone else could be dealt with through other means. Someone could simply get beaten to a pulp. Rumors have a way of disappearing very quickly after that.
My hand landed casually on Natsu's shoulder and squeezed, hard enough that he flinched.
"Maybe another time," I said, releasing him, and headed for Makarov's office.
"What's his deal?" Natsu rubbed his shoulder, genuinely puzzled, watching my back disappear behind the door.
"What are you smoking?" I asked Makarov neutrally. He was puffing away at a pipe.
"Nothing illegal," he snorted, looking me over. "How's Erza?"
"Fine. I'm not a complete idiot. I calmed her down right away."
"Good, good." He exhaled a slow curl of smoke and said thoughtfully: "You know, Elian. Sometimes I get the feeling you act completely like a grown man. You just like to do everything in that loose, fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants way of yours. Keep things fun."
"Who knows." My expression didn't shift a single millimeter. "Anyway, reason I showed up: I wanted to say thanks for having my back. If you ever need anything, you know where to find me. And probably no more of these sessions."
"You're right about that. No need to repeat it. You've finally learned how to put real feeling into your magic, and another session, as you call it, won't do you any good now."
And Makarov was right. A mage who had learned to pour genuine emotion into their magic rarely needed to repeat the lesson, that much I knew from the theoretical texts. Now all I had to do was spend a long time, years, possibly the rest of my life, finding the right feelings and discovering the right drive for each individual spell and for magic in general. Just that. In terms of the emotional dimension of being a mage, I'd taken maybe one of the very first steps. Then again, that was more reason for pride than anything else. Progress was progress.
"As for returning the favor," Makarov smiled into his mustache, "I need something delivered to an old friend in Era, and something brought back from him afterward. You up for it?"
"Sure."
"Perfect. While you're there, you can learn how to actually teleport properly. They've got the resources for it."
"Can't I get that here in Magnolia?"
"Kids today," he said with mild exasperation. "You know it's an extremely rare and difficult branch of magic." I nodded. "Well then. Only a handful of serious establishments have anything on it. The city where the Magic Council is headquartered happens to have one of them."
That clicked.
"And as you've read, it's dangerous magic. Better to hold off until you've got a solid foundation."
A few more understanding nods from me. I could technically teleport using Soul Energy; it was just that my capacity for it wasn't enough yet, and the energy from my original world was difficult to adapt to local ethernano-based spellwork. Even now, going off what I remembered from earlier today, the sensations I needed for Teleportation Magic were hazy at best, and the spell was still dangerous for me since controlling the exit point was a weak spot. One slip, and I could teleport straight into a solid object. That would be the end of that.
"Thanks for the advice. And for everything, Gramps. I won't forget it."
"Oh, cut the sentimentality. It doesn't suit you."
"Right. When do I pick up the delivery?"
"A week from now. Just set it to ferment, still need to run it off," he waved a hand, and I raised an eyebrow.
"Are you trafficking untaxed alcohol products?"
"Where do you even pick up words like that? Everything's above board. I'm not selling it, see!" He raised a finger to underscore the importance of this point. "And anyway, out. The smoke is bad for you. Ever heard of secondhand smoke? Shoo. Go on."
Swept along by Makarov's gestures, which had briefly taken on a distinctly Porlyusica-esque quality, I left the office.
Era. So that was where we were headed. Some preparation was in order. Library access might not come free, and I already felt a distant, mild approach of something resembling reluctance to bother Gramps again anytime soon, though given my occasional shamelessness, it was pretty distant. And since we'd be making a trip to a city that far away, and I was planning to at least bring Erza along, it was also worth stocking up on some unique artifacts. Every city has different craftsmen. Bottom line: I needed money. So I headed home to break the cheerful news to my little sister. We were going on a short round of jobs, specifically so we could blow everything we earned shortly after.