"Hahaha, just kidding—don't look so strung up!"
Catching the flicker of shock on Erza's face, Makarov laughed like a mischievous old kid who'd pulled one off, patting his belly.
He said no more. With surprising agility he hopped down from the bar; his small figure melted into the crowd, leaving only a drifting line: "Have a look around—this is your home now!"
"A toast to the newcomers!"
"Wooo—!"
The noise spiked again. One more excuse to celebrate—though the guests of honor were already half-forgotten in a corner.
Shane lowered his gaze to the clean-lined fairy emblem on the back of his hand.
After all this time since crossing over, he finally had… a definite place to stop. No more drifting aimlessly. A hard-to-name calm rose from his chest, loosening shoulders he hadn't noticed were tight.
He hadn't forgotten why he'd come to the guild, though.
He strode toward Makarov—who was busy hooking Wakaba in a headlock and pouring him a drink—and raised his voice: "Master! The guild library—can we go look now?"
"You don't need my permission for that!" Makarov waved him off without turning, then dove straight back into the drinking duel.
Small matter?
Shane pinched his earlobe, faintly surprised.
To him, any place holding knowledge and history was sacred—especially one likely to contain magic. How was that "small"?
He'd braced himself for hoops to jump through. He hadn't expected the master to be so offhand.
Well—it matched how casual the "joining" had been. Maybe that was the Fairy Tail way, he thought.
"Um… if you don't mind, I can take you," a soft voice offered nearby.
Shane turned to see a black-haired girl in a neat plaid dress a short ways off. Hands folded, eyes gentle—she looked about their age.
"Thank you." Erza answered first, a little quicker than usual, still crisp but edged with eagerness.
Shane glanced at the girl, a bit surprised. So Erza is hoping to make a friend her age. Good sign.
"I'm Cana Alberona," the black-haired guide said, leading the way. She kept sneaking glances back—her gaze drifting again and again to Erza's striking scarlet hair.
Shane noticed and said nothing.
At the library door, Erza finally sighed and looked at Cana. "Um… is something wrong? You've been staring at me."
Cana jumped, flustered, then asked in a small voice, "A-are you really Gildarts's daughter?"
"Absolutely not," Erza shot back, firm as steel.
"Doesn't look it," Shane nodded, objectively. "Setting personalities aside, even the features don't match. And Gildarts's red runs hot—more orange-scarlet—while Erza's is a pure, beautiful crimson, like sunset."
He meant it plainly, but Erza's heart skipped; she touched a strand without thinking.
She hadn't expected the usually blasé Shane to see her so clearly. A quiet, nameless pleasure rippled through her, and her tight lips eased.
"Oh… I—I see." Relief softened Cana's face; she patted her chest.
Shane's next question tightened her expression again. "So… why do you care if Erza's Gildarts's daughter?"
"J-just curious!" Cana's eyes skittered; her voice dropped. "Red hair's rare in the guild…"
"It was obviously the master joking." Shane, oblivious to the mood, pressed on. Cana was a little too invested.
Even Erza felt the air shift. She gave Shane's sleeve a gentle tug and turned to Cana, pivoting hard but trying to be kind. "Right—Cana, could you show us around the library? We're new—we don't know where anything is."
Cana exhaled, grateful, flashed Erza a look of thanks, and pushed the door open. "S-sure! Right this way."
Shane bristled a little at the interruption; he'd wanted to pick up more on guild gossip and get his bearings.
Zero social sense, this girl, he thought, shooting Erza a look. All this time with me and you still haven't learned…
On any other day she would've glared back twice as hard. For some reason, she was in too good a mood now—her lips just quirked as she flicked him a glance and let it go.
"Tch…" Punching cotton—that's what it felt like.
Erza was getting harder to handle.
Before he could grouse, the library itself stole his attention.
In stark contrast to the raucous hall, it was hushed.
Tall stacks climbed to the ceiling, crammed with spines of every size and binding. The air held the scent of old paper and leather; sun slanted from high windows, dust motes drifting in the beams.
Speaking softly, Cana rattled off the sections like a docent. "Near the entrance—gazetteers of Ishgar, histories, biographies.
Deeper in is theory: basics of mana application, encyclopedias of magic, and so on."
Clear, practiced—she knew the place.
Listening, Shane's eyes ran hungrily over the book spines. "Cana, are there any concrete magics suited to where we are now?"
She blinked, surprised.
Out in the hall, Gildarts had bragged enough about how these two helped him on an S-class job—on par with veterans. And now they wanted to learn new magic?
She thought a moment, then chose her words. "Magic isn't about learning as many as you can. Plenty of great mages spend a lifetime on a single system."
"The key is to find what fits you, then deepen it—refine, develop, understand it better and better. The sea of magic is vast; you have to shut out the noise to go far."
She paused, then added, "That's what the master tells me."
~~~
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