VERiTY (Fairy Tail Fanfic)

24. Like Father...

There's an explosion in the distance.

"Oh, no."

Eir had finally managed to grab the little tyke by the scruff, but the loud noise made him turn his head with a grimace.

"Let go of me!"

Eir lifted the boy by the back of his collar, frowning. He's thin, grubby, definitely an orphan-- he didn't look much older than Gray.

Hm? It looked black, but his hair was actually just really dark brown. That's pretty.

"Kid. How old are you?" Eir said, catching the boy's attention.

The kid tutted, evidently uninterested in small talk. He spun around, a yellow magic circle blooming from his wrist, gleaming like a ball of congested zephyrs before striking the ground hard enough to shatter.

"Aerial Shot!"

And it went for Eir, slicing right through the boy's clothing, shredding through Eir's-- and slicing through skin.

In his surprise, his grip loosened.

The boy landed on all fours, still clutching the pouch of cookies. But this time, he had also gotten Eir's wallet between his teeth.

"Aerial Shot!"

Eir raised his arms up to protect his eyes from the next surge of wind and rubble-- but once it quelled, the boy was long gone.

He swore under his breath. That little brat.

"Hey, you alright? You're bleeding," a shopkeeper to the side called out to him.

Right, they're still in the middle of the road.

Eir grimaced-- his clothes were cut, a few scrapes bleeding. He's not too sure about anywhere else, but he knows his cheek stings a little, too.

He rubs it over with his hand and frowns. Smearing it against his coat-- oh good, he's wearing dark blue today, that shouldn't stand out too much.

"Don't wipe that!" the watermelon vendor yelled.

But anyways. "Did you see where the tiny dark kid went?"

"Could you worry more about your own wounds?!"

"Right, right," Eir dismisses. Somehow, he feels like he's forgotten something...

And right on cue, another explosion sounds in the distance.

He hears the familiar crackle of thunder residue and he doesn't look over. He has a very strange hunch that it came from the library.

But no, no, he's not going to look over there.

He does not see it.

He does not.

-

-

Cana wants wind-reading glasses, because this is a lot to read. The translation is easy enough, it's the sheer amount of it that makes it tedious.

Then there's a familiar, crackle-sound rumble in the distance, and the panicked crowd wailing of what was most probably a...

BOOM!!