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Grit scraped against the back of his throat with each shallow breath as he slowly returned to consciousness. He could feel the rocky earth of Nirvana’s remains beneath his cheek and palms. The stench of his back’s burning flesh from Brain’s attack still assaulted his sensitive nose. Ever so slowly, he started to push himself off the ground, only for a loud ringing in his ears to send him back down.
He knocked his forehead against the ground and curled his tanned fingers into the rocky gray dirt, clenching his jaw, trying to stave off the pounding migraine. The only blessing was the blissful quiet of the world around him. Black spots danced across his vision when he finally opened his violet eyes. His dry throat scratched as he swallowed, and the resulting cough blew a cloud of gray dust in the air.
Before trying to move again, the mage took stock of his injuries. The one on his back was by far the worst, and it was still stinging, but for the most part, he didn’t receive any serious wounds during his fight with the 1st generation slayer. A few punches, but nothing that would take long to heal. Then there was that ringing, which was admittedly more irritating than painful. Assuredly caused by that deafening roar his foe had unleashed.
With a groan, he forced himself up. Whether he liked it or not, he couldn’t stay here forever. There was no doubt that someone would come for him eventually, most likely Rune Knights to take him to prison. Dammit , he thought. Sitting up stretched the raw flesh along his shoulders and spine, forcing a wince out of him. Because most of his energy was exerted during the fight, he propped his arms on his knees and leaned against them. Taking a deep breath in through his nose and out his mouth, the loud ringing in his mind was slowly starting to dissipate.
A quick glance around revealed that his serpentine friend was nowhere to be seen. There was nothing left of Nirvana but piles of rubble and demolished buildings. A secondary scan also confirmed that Brain was gone as were the mages from the legal guilds. His next step was to establish how long he’d been unconscious. Taking in the sun rising over the horizon, he was able to estimate that it’d been a few hours, hopefully less. The less time he’d wasted here, the more time he’d have to get away before someone found him.
Getting away would be far easier if he could find his oldest friend.
“Cubellios,” he called. His voice felt hoarse, and it was then that he realized that something was wrong.
A foreboding sense began to slowly crawl through his subconscious as he started to hear past the ringing in his ears. Or, more accurately, to not hear past the ringing in his ears. The whistling breeze brushing his face. The gentle rustling of his clothes as he shifted. The clacking of pebbles as his feet kicked them across the terrain.
While he moved to stand, he took notice of his egregious error before.
He wasn’t hearing the dead silence of a decimated battlefield.
The bells in his eardrum had faded, leaving him with only the sound of his thoughts. The weight of his heart grew while he snapped his fingers beside his pointed right ear. There was nothing. He snapped by his left. Nothing.
His breathing quickened. Violet eyes widened when the image of falling with a pink haired mage flew through his mind. What should have been an assured victory was shattered by the piercing dragon roar that had shaken his entire being. The pain, the pressure as his eardrums were destroyed.
“That bastard,” he hissed, clenching his jaw and baring his fangs. The poison lacing his blood burned through his veins. Fury fueled the dragon roar that ripped from his throat and echoed across the pale stone ruins. “That bastard!”
With no audible way to judge his scream, he forced the enraged and pained sound until his throat bled raw. The air went still as he dropped to his knees on the hard rubble, his energy waning.
Every inch of him shook, whether with anger or distress, he did not know. As his gaze touched on everything around him, his mind trying to recreate how it all would sound. The orchestra of shifting stones, the wind, and even the tiny creatures living amongst the nooks and crannies, that he never thought he’d have to live without.
“C-Cubellios. Where are you?” he pleaded, digging his nails into the hard earth. Even if he couldn’t hear it, he knew his voice shook. Where had the large winged snake gone? The two had been inseparable ever since they found each other in the Tower of Heaven. Though his body ached and the edges of his vision were turning black, through pure strength of will, he pushed himself back to his feet. His nose went into overdrive, his feet twisting him around the area as he desperately tried to catch the scent of his only friend. Since he’d never been able to listen to her soul and now couldn’t hear her at all, Cubellios’ scent was the only way for him to track her.
But he smelled only smoke and ash.
He clenched his hands into fists to try and keep them from shaking. His head whipped around in every direction. His hearing had been his greatest asset and being without it left him vulnerable. The rising panic that choked him only relaxed when he heard approaching souls in his head.
A wave of relief washed over him. Even though there was no reason to think that his busted eardrums would affect his Soul Reading Magic, hearing their souls was the sweetest music.
‘I’m positive it came from over here!’
‘Could it be one of the Oración Seis?’
Those were the only distinctive phrases he could hear. Everything else was a cacophony of emotions. A mournful cello as they took in the destruction, and there was an underlying sense of purpose set by the steady beat of a drum as the names of his guildmates flitted across their minds. These must be the Rune Knights.
With his energy drained, he stumbled over to a tilted wall, feeling the thud as his shoulder collided with the stone surface, and carefully watched wherever he thought they might appear from. As useful as his Soul Reading was, it wasn’t able to indicate how far or in what direction his enemy is. That’s what his normal hearing had been for.
‘Crap! Damn rocks!’ A blushing trombone. Some idiot probably tripped.
Every second that went by drained what little magic he had left as he kept listening to the souls.
‘What if he isn’t defeated?’ This one’s fear sang as a haunting waterphone.
His breathing grew labored.
‘We’ve already found the rest.’ No music, but he caught the clanging of prison chains.
More shadows overtook his sight just as a figure cloaked in white appeared through the rubble.
A final thought forced its way into his mind before his magical energy ran out and he lost consciousness, falling to the rocky ground..
‘Cobra of the Oración Seis, you are under arrest!’
It had been awhile since he’d had that dream. The Poison Dragonslayer woke up calmly, using his Soul Reading Magic to quickly discover that the other members of Crime Sorcière were still asleep, except for Macbeth who had propped himself up against a tree for the final watch shift. The quiet murmurs of their dreams disappeared once he shut off his magic. No need to waste his energy so early in the morning, even though the unnatural silence still infuriated him.
Cobra rolled over, rested his head on his arm, and frowned at the thick tree root that was now digging into his side. The white, fur lined coat he wore to ward off last night’s chill only provided moderate comfort from the hard ground as their small guild of criminals camped out in the East Forest.
Based on the decision of its irritating, blue haired leader, Crime Sorcière was going straight into the lion’s den. He claims it is to gather and share information with the Fairy Tail guild master pertaining to allies of Zeref potentially in the surrounding area of Magnolia. To be fair, that was a real plan, but it’s hard to ignore the blazing desire within Jellal’s soul has to see that red headed, sword obsessed psycho again.
A groan escaped him as he finally sat up, the dawn beginning to light up the horizon between the trees in shades of orange and blue. The others were beginning to shift as they woke up so Cobra activated his Soul Reading. He should have told them long ago about his disability, but a tightening in his chest always stopped him. A feeling of shame and embarrassment for not being able to do something so simple as hearing, especially since listening was supposed to be his specialty. His advantage.
‘Cobra, keep an ear for anything unusual as we continue towards Magnolia.’ He looked over at Jellal and nodded. Since they rarely set up an official camp, often sleeping on the ground with a small fire pit, it took no time at all before the guild was on its way. Now that everyone was awake, there were multiple streams of thoughts flowing through Cobra’s mind, the music of their emotions forming one hell of a horrible symphony.
‘Camping is the worst,’ Sorano complained.
“Sorry fugitives don’t get five star hotels,” the Dragonslayer snarked. The white haired Angel mage was startled for a moment before glaring.
‘Stay out of my head, Acid Breath!’ Even though his response was an uncaring scoff, a small shred of embarrassment picked at him. It was always a little disconcerting watching the thoughts in someone’s head not always match up with the words formed as they spoke, so Cobra often avoided gazes when people were talking to him. However, because of this, he couldn’t always tell whether someone was actually speaking.
Most times, they just thought he was being an ass for intruding and responding to their thoughts.
The walk through the woods was otherwise peaceful. No signs of dark wizards, though they did come across a vulcan desiring to take Sorano and Meredy away, though Cobra didn’t know why the creature would want them. Based on their incessant inner chatter, it’s almost too bad they didn’t get taken.
Regardless, they were soon walking through the streets of Magnolia. Due to the early hour, there weren’t many civilians wandering the streets, but each Crime Sorcière member pulled down their cloak hood a little farther. Even though they were all criminals and had to hide their faces, Cobra had to wonder why Jellal thought a group of strangers in black cloaks would receive less attention.
It was obvious when they were nearing the guild hall of Fairy Tail. He couldn’t even see it but was already getting a headache from the loud voices and instruments ringing in his mind. It was times like these that Cobra wished he could deactivate his Soul Reading, but he had to be prepared to react. During off times, he would sometimes turn it off, even though he hated the silence, to avoid the cacophony of people’s idiotic ideas and then wear his cruelest scowl so anyone that tried to talk to him thinks he ignored them because of a foul mood.
By the time they were walking underneath the Fairy Tail sign and through those large double doors, the sun was halfway up the sky.
Trumpets. So many damn trumpets blared with clanging drums in his mind while accompanying the brawl that was tossing members and wooden shards about. Perhaps the only blessing is that a mindless bar fight like this made everyone’s thoughts fairly linear and easy to ignore. The sacred, blueberry headed leader quickly sought out his female knight. The two nodded to each other before... Erza, wasn’t it? ...led him up the stairs to speak with Old Man Makarov.
The rest of the criminal guild went their separate ways when a unique scent brushed past Cobra’s nose. His violet eye widened and instinct led his gaze to the bar on the other side of the room. It was that girl. Her short purple hair, the same color as her previous scales, was pinned back with small clips, and the green dress she wore revealed more skin than he preferred others to see.
Utilizing his magic to avoid any punches and flying debris, Cobra forged his way in her direction, lowering his hood once he was close. While she spoke with someone further down, he watched her, taking in every movement and facial tick.
“Cubellios,” he rasped, saying his best friend’s name like a prayer. It was obvious she heard him when her head sharply turned, eyes wide. Dropping the plate and rag in her hands, the young woman rushed over and grabbed his hands in hers.
Cobra saw her mouth move and sucked in a quick breath.
No. The Poison Dragonslayer focused all of his Soul Reading magic on Cubellios. Her brow was furrowed, showing her concern when he didn’t respond to her. Even with his magic, there were no words flitting through her mind to go along with the shapes her lips were forming. No music to identify her feelings.
For years it had been his dream to hear the voice of his closest friend. When Cubellios was a snake, she could not speak and Cobra could not hear her soul. Now that she was human, he was still to be denied her melody?
‘Suck it, Gray!’ That voice. Turning away from his confused, purple-haired friend, Cobra could feel poisonous gas pooling in his throat when he saw the Fire Dragonslayer who haunted his memories. A growl erupted from him and dark purple scales formed down his arms. Everything became white noise in the presence of his fury. Salamander!
He stalked closer when a heavy hand landed his shoulder, and Cobra snarled, baring his fangs at whoever was dumb enough to try and stop him. The stoic faced Reflector mage met his gaze, unflinching at the rage of his teammate. Macbeth slowly shook his head.
Though that gave Cobra pause, it was the call of his name within his mind that stopped him. Reigning in his temper, the maroon haired mage looked to the top of the staircase where Jellal stood. ‘Cobra,’ the leader thought, ‘gather the team. We have a location.’ The underlying thoughts proved that Jellal wanted to tell him to calm down but had known that such an order would not have been well received.
Sending one last glare in the direction of Natsu Dragneel, Cobra went about his task. Letting the anger that continued to fume within him to assist in “convincing” his guildmates to make a hasty exit, Crime Sorcière was heading back towards the East Forest. Old Man Makarov informed Jellal of nearby locations where there had been sightings of dark wizards and now it was time to go to work.
Cobra wasn’t sure whether he was more concerned about the burning in his side or the numbness spreading out from his blue fingertips. Normally, he found the sound of violins rather pleasing, both in general and when they came from his vanquished enemies, but it was a bittersweet melody to hear when it was playing for him.
Struggling to keep his eye open despite the overwhelming urge to let his mind go dark, the starlit sky passed by above him. He was vaguely aware of lying back on Macbeth’s carpet, his guildmates running alongside it. Meredy seemed furious at him. It’s possible she was yelling, but with his magic running so low that the world was disgustingly silent, not to mention that he was probably dying at the moment, it was a little hard to tell. At least he didn’t have to listen to Meredy’s shrill voice, so here’s to small blessings.
The fuzzy shadows overtaking his mind made it difficult to think, but Cobra vaguely remembered having a trident, which after recent consideration was apparently not that useless of a weapon, impaled through his chest and an ice wizard trying to give him frostbite, thus the frozen blue creeping up from his hands. Crime Sorcière had been ambushed by the dark guild they were targeting and with so many voices and instruments he’d had difficulty focusing on who was doing what and where. It was damn embarrassing to get caught off guard the way he did.
Fuck, I can’t feel my hands. His numb fingers twitched, and he kept blinking to keep his sight clear. I need coffee. The confused thought caused a swell of nausea, and his throat slicked with something that he was willing to bet was blood. A hard cough arched his back, the carpet undulating underneath him at the sudden movement, and Cobra expelled a pained groan.
The blue sky turned into a high ceiling of brown wood. People were surrounding him. Summoning the smallest tindrel of power he had left, Cobra forced himself to hear. Their voices were drowning in a orchestra of screaming string instruments.
‘...once Racer warned us…’
‘He’s gone into shock…..pale...muttering...nonsense.’
‘...ake him……...ts in...back…’
The fragmented thoughts that shouted through his mind forced a minor understanding of the situation. However with the last of his magic irresponsibly used and drained, Cobra could no longer keep his eye opened. The last thing he saw was being moved under a sterile white light as a young girl with twin dark blue ponytails and brown eyes leaned over him.
Cobra woke up to a cold rag gently wiping his brow. Most things that happened after he got stabbed were fuzzy, though he was confident that he was currently in Fairy Tail’s med bay. Everything hurt, but at least he felt everything, which means the frostbite was taken care of. He wasn’t dead yet, so his stomach must have been patched as well.
The migraine building in his frontal lobe was soothed from the cool touch along his forehead, though his eye still refused to open. The muscles in his face twitched, and whoever was sitting by him froze.
Everything was silent.
Now that he could think clearly, Cobra understood he caused himself a mild case of Magic Deficiency Syndrome and also knew that without more information about his condition, he needed to hold back on using his magic.
Someone nudged his shoulder. My body feels so weak. There was a fresh scent in the air. It smelled of open skies. His violet eye cracked and saw the blue haired girl from before he blacked out. Though he knew he’d seen her before, there was no flicker of remembrance of what her name was.
Her mouth was moving.
He only continued to stare at her, his face stoic and giving no hint towards his thoughts.
She frowned, looking thoughtful. Her hands hovered on either side of his head, and he saw the faint blue glow of magic in his peripheral. Once the light faded, because of how exhausted his limbs felt, there was no stopping her from snapping her fingers by his ears. Cobra would admit that he tried to fake a reaction, but there was obviously no fooling the frowning young healer who walked away after her experiment. When she returned to his sights, she was holding a pad of notebook paper and a pink pencil. Her hand moved in quick but precise movements as she wrote upon the white sheet. Once finished, the writing was turned so that he could read it.
‘Hello, Cobra. My name is Wendy. Do you remember me?’ The letters were gently curved into very girly handwriting, in his opinion. However, he slowly nodded as much as he could. It had been a long time, but he would never forget the events of Nirvana. This was the Sky Dragonslayer that revived Jellal. A trace of relief lit up her face. Wendy wrote again, just beneath the other message ‘Does your guild know that you are deaf?’
Cobra couldn’t stop the angry sneer that peeled across his face. That was answer enough for her, who nodded her understanding.
“Who…...else…….knows?” he hoped he asked, gasping between each word. Her surprise was evident, clearly not expecting someone who just confirmed they couldn’t hear to be able to speak in clear phrasing. Of course he could still talk. He’d had near two decades of it before Nirvana, and if he couldn’t manage that, then Crime Sorcière would have already found him out.
‘No one. Kinana wanted to stay, but I made her leave while I did some tests, so she doesn’t know!’
Kinana? His brow furrowed in confusion, not recognizing the name. Catching the emotion in his face, Wendy scrawled another note.
‘Purple hair. Green eyes. You spoke to her last time you were here.’
Cubellios. An unusual feeling of peace flowed through him, smoothing the stress lines on his face. She was here, caring for me. After all these years. His eye fell closed, and he allowed himself to relax upon the medical cot.
Sleep overtook him once more.
When he finally woke up, there was a folded piece of paper within his left hand. Steeling himself with a breath, Cobra tried to sit up, feeling relieved that he was able to do so fairly easily despite the pain in his torso. Life had been restored to his limbs and there was a sense of fullness within his magic container.
A quick look to ensure that the room was empty, he opened the small letter left with him.
‘Hi there! Good morning (or afternoon, depending on when you wake up)!’ The perky attitude of that girl jumped from the page and made Cobra want to roll his eyes. ‘You’ve only been asleep for about a day, so no need to worry. I had to run out and get some herbs, but if you wake up before I get back, you are clear to use your magic again so long as you don’t overexert yourself. -Wendy’
Thoughts and sounds flooded into Cobra’s mind as he wasted no time to restart his Soul Reading magic. He could filter through the noise and discovered that his guildmates were still here. Jellal’s thoughts were dominated by explanations of the dark guild they recently took out, so he was most likely in a discussion with the old man. Descriptions of celestial spirits led him to believe that Sorano was with the big chested blond, and Meredy frequently spoke of the blue-haired water mage. Tuning out Richard’s booming voice was always better for Cobra’s sanity, and there was no understanding the chaos of Sawyer’s mind. As expected, Macbeth’s was a calm whisper, which meant that the Reflector mage was sleeping, but not trapped in a nightmare as was typical.
There was an odd comfort in knowing that the rest of Crime Sorcière was nearby.
While turning to let his feet hit the ground, the door opened and in walked the star of his current nightmare. Ironically, the purple haired girl was also the star of his greatest dream. Cubellios looked concerned, yet relieved, to see him trying to stand.
At least her mouth wasn’t moving yet. Cobra continued to meet her gaze. He’d never felt worried or uncomfortable with Cubellios before, but all of this surged through him, though none of it affected his stoic expression. She came closer to stand before him. A pale, slender hand rested against his cheek.
She spoke. As her mouth moved in soundless shapes, Cobra was hit with surreal curiosity. What does she sound like? Is it high? No. More middle ground with a bit of height. An alto, he decided. When she stopped, he wondered what he should do. Without hearing her soul, he couldn’t even pretend that he understood. No other option, he continued to stare, unable to react as she tried again.
It was like a punch in the gut seeing her face fall as she realized something was wrong. His own hand raised to brush her cheekbone. It was that pain that brought out the words he’d refused to say out loud for the last seven years.
“I still can’t hear you,” he whispered, choking on the last word.
Never was Cobra so happy as to be back in the middle of the woods. Instead of having a hundred sounds rattling around in his mind, there was only six. Because of his injuries, they had been forced to stay in Magnolia longer than expected. Even after he woke up feeling fine, no one would let them leave until the little healer, Wendy, returned to do a final checkup.
Not to mention she yelled at him for getting up and walking about without her permission. While waiting, Cobra had taken up a spot at the far end of the bar to sit alone as he watched Cubellios, Kinana , he tried to remind himself, do her job.
“Thanks, Cu,” he said when she offered him a beer mixed with hemlock. It was late afternoon before the Sky Maiden walked through those doors. Her first stop was strangely with Cubellios, though it’s possible that wasn’t odd since Cobra didn’t know how close they were, who, after a few quick words, spoke to the silver haired barmaid and ran out of the guild.
Their conversation had started and ended before Cobra could even think of focusing in on the two, and soon Wendy was heading his way.
‘Let’s go and check your injuries. I’m sure your guild is ready to get out of here.’ The precision and clarity of her words let Cobra know that she was focusing on making the message clear within her mind. Back in the infirmary, she ensured there were no more signs of frostbite and that his ribs were healing properly. Having spent most of her magic undoing nerve damage on his hands and feet, Wendy wasn’t able to completely heal the hole in his torso. Through pushing herself beyond her normal abilities, she mostly closed it, though at the time wasn’t able to do much about the ribs he’d crack or anything cosmetic. It’d certainly leave a scar and after giving his ribs a small boost, his chest was still wrapped tightly so they could finish healing on their own.
Now that Crime Sorcière was traveling again, Meredy and Richard tried to tell him to take it easy. With an angry snarl and a few unkind words, the Poison Dragonslayer quickly shot down their idea. Even with the bandages constricting his breathing, he was far from helpless.
It was after dark before they came to a stop to make camp. Everyone started digging around in the packs that Fairy Tail had given them while Racer ran a perimeter search. Most of it was pretty standard stuff: dried food, some light lacrima, bottles of water, but it was what was at the bottom of Cobra’s bag that interested him. It was square shaped and covered in dark purple paper. A strand of twine encircled the present and kept a folded letter pressed to it.
With a curious eyebrow raised, Cobra slipped out the paper but kept it hidden within the bag so that none of the others saw it.
‘Hello, Erik.’ Cubellios. She was the only one outside of his guild that knew his true name. ‘I was so happy to see you again, even though it wasn’t under the best circumstances. I’m sorry about your hearing, and I’m sorry that fate strives to keep our voices apart. Though I don’t remember much of our time together, I do remember your dream from the Tower of Heaven. It was my dream, as well. I got you this gift, because no matter what happens, I will always try to make our dream a reality.’
Cobra set the note down to tear at the dark covering of what she gave him. It was a book and after reading the title, he was glad he’d decided to keep it within his pack so nobody saw it. A strange feeling filled the poison mage. Breathing in through his nose to calm himself, Cobra finished her letter.
‘I’ll be learning, too, so you’d better practice, Erik, and then we can talk about anything you want. So you have to come back. I look forward to hearing your voice again. -Be safe, Cubellios’
Seeing her use her old name tempted him to smile. He knew she went by a different name now that she was human, so it meant a lot that there was a name that only he knew her by, just as she was the only one with expressed permission to use his real name.
‘I swear his smile can be even creepier than his sneer.’ It always seemed to be Sorano that soured his mood. Cobra’s lips instantly turned down to give her his darkest scowl and growled at her. The white haired mage rolled her eyes, cheeks pink from getting caught. ‘Sorry,’ her thoughts muttered along a brass line as an afterthought. Cobra sighed and rubbed the back of his head, glancing away but nodding his acceptance.
Sorano didn’t mean to be a bitch, most of the time.
Because it was already late, they all munched on some of the dried food from their packs around a light lacrima listening to Jellal as plans were made. Soon they were all picking out the softest dirt patches to sleep on while Cobra offered to take first watch. He waited until all of their thoughts became the muffled whispers of dreams before pulling out the book Cubellios had snuck into his bag.
He sat against a wide tree, leaning back against the rough wood, and propped the book up on his knee. It had a flexible cover and was as thick as two fingers. A Beginner’s Guide to Signing, hmm? How like a snake to find a loophole to my problem, Cobra chuckled softly, fondly thinking of his best friend.
After flipping through several pages, he opened it to the very beginning. Taking a moment to scan his guildmates minds and the area around them, the slayer held a small light lacrima to the first page in one hand and used the other to sign the alphabet.
This became his pattern every night. For weeks he studied that book in the dead of night, hiding it away in his traveller’s pack during the day where no one could see it.
Everything changed one night while Cobra was working on various verbs. Crime Sorcière was camped out on a mountain edge and, after reaching out with his magic to determine no there were no nearby threats, silenced the minds around him. Despite the hatred he felt at not being able to hear, even he’d admit that it was far easier to concentrate.
It was nearing the end of his shift when a pebble knocked into his shoulder. Cobra’s head jumped up to see Macbeth crouched a few feet away, leaning his elbows against his knees while the pale glow of the lacrima casted eerie shadows across his pale face. The two mages stared at each other, the Dragonslayer’s eye widening while Macbeth wore a creepy smile.
Neither said a word until the Reflector mage began moving his hands in specific gestures that had become very familiar to Cobra in the past couple months.
“How’s practice coming?” After finishing, Macbeth continued to stare while awaiting an answer, tilting his head to the side.
“Y-you….how do you…?” Shock left Cobra unable to articulate a proper response.
“I steal your book every night after you go to sleep.” The lack of anything close to resembling guilt on his face irritated Cobra.
“Why?” Cobra hissed, unable to tell is he’s furious or worried.
“No point in learning if you have no one to practice with.”
“But why wait until now?” Switching to his hands because he didn’t think he could keep his voice quiet anymore, Cobra quickly signed his question.
“I figured you didn’t want anyone to know and would get angry.” Due to his stoic face, it was clear that Macbeth’s main concern was not dealing with the well known temper of the slayer rather than not angering him to begin with. By the tense jaw, it was clear Cobra was getting there. “See? You’re angry.”
“So now you know.” Years of hiding it. Wasted. He bared his teeth and barely kept from growling. However, Macbeth scrunched his face in confusion.
“I’ve known for years,” Macbeth signed, trying to hold back an amused grin.
“What!” Cobra snapped, inexplicably furious. One of the other guildmates shifted, sitting up and shielding her sensitive eyes to the lacrima’s pale light, so he activated his Soul Reading magic.
‘Will you shut up!’ Sorano, of course.
‘Cobra’s just mad, because he’s deaf,’ Macbeth explained to the woman.
‘So? That’s no reason to wake me from my beauty rest!’
“Hold on a second,” Cobra interjected. “You guys...you both know?”
‘Well, duh. You’re such an idiot, Cobra. Did you actually think we wouldn’t notice?’ Sorano answered, still cranky for being woken up, before laying back down and rolling over. ‘That’s just insulting.’
Shock wracked his body, leaving him unsure how react.
Relief surged over him that his guildmates already knew and didn’t care. Anger burned that they kept their knowledge secret, but most of all, Cobra felt shame. Shame that he’d felt he had felt the need to lie for so long after years of travelling and fighting alongside them. He had heard Sorano’s offense at his lack of trust in them, but Macbeth, renowned for his laziness, learned sign language for him. Besides Cubellios, he was realizing that the Reflector mage was perhaps the closest thing to a friend he had.
“Shall we practice?” Macbeth asked, turning back to face Cobra with a smirk.
“Don’t you have your watch shift?” Cobra reminded with a roll of his eye.
“Says the guy who wasn’t wearing his hearing aid during his?” Stifling a chuckle at the joke, Cobra put on a mock scowl and kicked a leg out to push Macbeth over into the dirt.
It was the dead of winter before Crime Sorcière was wandering back through Magnolia. The entire town was decorated for Christmas as clumps of snow powdered the ground. Night had already fallen, adding a chill in the air.
There was no need to ask where Jellal was going when he suddenly broke off from the group. Meredy and Sorano also went left on their own to mooch off of their friends, though their hurried exit was helped by the snow dumped into their coats by a laughing Sawyer. The Slowing mage went on with Richard to find an inn, leaving Cobra and Macbeth to meander their way to the Fairy Tail guild hall alone.
Along the walk, Macbeth lowered his black hood and gazed upward. By the time he looked back at Cobra, flecks of snow crusted his eyelashes and dusted his hair with a thin layer of white. Wide, black eyes gleamed. His soul played a low, relaxed bassline, which was a common occurrence for the lazy goth mage.
“You’re such a little kid,” Cobra commented, smirking. Instead of responding, Macbeth’s eyes glanced at the road towards Fairy Tail and then gave his friend a knowing look. With a quick sign, he turned away and headed down a different street.
“Have fun.” It wasn’t that surprising to see him go. Macbeth rarely slept at night and often preferred exploring the nearby area by himself.
Cobra grumbled in response and headed off, slipping his cold hands into the pockets of the thick white coat he wore underneath his black cloak. It was rare for him to close off his Soul Reading magic while alone, but since the odds of someone attacking him in the midst of the city were low, it was worth it to delve into silence. Seeing the snow swirl through the air and feeling the flurries bite his cheeks, all the while hearing nothing.
It was all so surreal and it gave him the oddest sense of peace.
The streets were barren, only a couple odd stragglers who kept their distance from the tanned stranger whose neutral expression was a scowl. Snow crunched beneath his boots, and he turned a corner to see bright lights emanating from the resident guild. A mere block away, Cobra paused to steel himself before having to use his Soul Reading and deal with the many voices of the crazed Fairy Tail members.
Inhaling air through his nose to relax, he froze when a familiar scent passed by him. Turning away from the guild hall, Cobra ran in the direction of the scent trail. Each breath spiked cold air in his lungs as he struggled to keep track as the frozen water in the air worked to weaken the scent.
The path led him to a small apartment complex a few blocks away. Up on the third floor was a plain, cream colored door with the paint scratching off in a few places. Cobra used his boot to scrape a layer of white powder off the mat to see that it read “Come On and Slither In” which forced a chuckle from him. She always did have a sense of humor, he thought.
Shaking his shoulders in a shiver against the cold, his fist raised to knock on the wooden door. After a few moments of no response, Cobra banged harder. It honestly didn’t occur to him that she could be asleep. In fact, it was very likely. His best friend had always hated winter. Normal snakes hibernated throughout the season, but that wasn’t really an option for his fighting partner, so she dealt with the miserable effects that chilly weather had on reptiles by sleeping more than usual.
Though the slayer was willing to stand outside that apartment all night, the turning of the knob was a welcome relief that told him he wouldn’t have to. What stood on the other side appeared as nothing more than a large cocoon of blankets. When the layers shifted enough so that a pair of miserable green eyes stared out at him, Cobra hugged his stomach to keep the body shaking laughter to a minimum.
“Still don’t like the cold?” he choked out between laughs. WIth how Cubellios’ eyes narrowed, Cobra knew he didn’t need to hear to know she was probably hissing at him. She started to turn away from him, but Cobra reached out to keep her facing him. “Hey, C-U.” He gave an awkward smile while she processed his sign.
The blankets dropped to the floor. Cubellios stood there in long, fuzzy green pajamas with thick socks and an overshirt. There was even a fur hat covering her purple hair. Her green eyes filled with tears, and her hands covered her watery smile. Cobra swallowed a knot in his throat when he saw her hands moving into the first words he’d ever heard from her.
“I missed you, E-R-I-K.”