He Makes The Stars Shine Brighter [Sting x Reader] || First Book

23 : The Skies of Ishgar

» edited : 04.18.2017

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"In an hour, all Faces will be activated. Three thousand magical pulse bombs are going to destroy magic all across the continent."

The words weigh heavily on all three of your shoulders, and the strange character you're pitted against grins sickeningly. The words itself, carefully gathered letters with the purpose to unnerve you, they were as light as the weak draft that did nothing more than push the loose sleeves of Rogue's clothing. What gravitated was the dismal promise buried in between the spaces, like the rich filling of an outwardly mundane cake.

The promise of certain terror rooting in the population's hearts, the regulars and the magic users alike. The promise of the demons crawling out of their elusive, self-made hole of dark, uneven stone and even darker, crueler desires. The weight of everyone's futures were carelessly dropped on your shoulders, and you were forced to bear it, stand upright, keep carrying it, like the unlucky ones who've given away their days and the health of their bones to perform painstaking labor for the sake of the satiety of their stomachs.

Rogue sinks a little under the weight, but Sting, who's been facing different kinds of pressure ever since he's endowed the title of 'Guild Master', receives it effortlessly, the curve of his spine straightening even, the blues of his eyes glinting challenge.

Mard Geer, the strange character, arches an astonished eyebrow, the muscles of his body moving to create an amused huff, leveling his shoulders. His eyes settle, half-closed, calm, calculatingly fierce like a stalking feline's.

"Humans truly are amusing, do you really think you can defeat Mard Geer, the Kind of Hades?" Nobody speaks, lips sealed against each other in crucial concentration, though the way Sting dashes forward, summoning his magic, speaks mute words loud enough to suffice the King of Hades.

» time skip

The fight pauses, though it never really ceases to exist. There was an echoing cry, something not even the most eccentric at Fairy Tail could never produce. Despite the absence of words, it still carries the coldness of terror, like the fluff of clouds carrying the scent of oncoming rain, and you can feel it prickling your dust-coated skin.

Mard's eyes, which remain half-closed even as rockets of magic are zigzagging towards him, are shocked to full openness. He tilts his head up to accommodate the vastness of the dirty sky, ribbons of dust and smoke tangled all over, from battles fought, battles still fighting, battles just like yours.

Your gaze collides with Sting's, and there's a similar puzzlement drawn over all his features, though Rogue remains impassive, refusing to lock eyes with neither you nor Sting, casting them down on the dirt on his shoes instead, focusing on the dust colored a bloody sunset, that's cast against the dark of his boots.

"This is. . ." Mard Geer's voice is quieter, and for a sliver of a second, his self-placed confidence weathers away, and he's left looking like an unfortunate tourist who's just seen a hungry predator on an otherwise peaceful stroll.

"It goes above and beyond my expectations for him to show," he muses, tightening his grasp on his precious book, which has remained secure in his firm hold while everything was falling apart from the forces of your battle. He glances at the book, running a thumb over its cover. "Did he seek this demon? Or is he after Zeref?"

"That voice, there's no mistaking it," his shoulders shake in silent laughter, just as you feel something begin to creep on your being, "Acnologia."

» time skip

In the dirty tones of the sky, the blacks and blues of the scales on Acnologia's body made prominent. His colossal body moves in the air with one great wingbeat, charging towards another figure, which was clothed in altering reds that shimmered against whatever rods of sunlight that manage to pierce the thickness of the dust and smoke.