Chapter Text
I was nineteen when the storm hit. My hometown was no stranger to these kinds of storms. What scared us most was no rain. Storms like these were what started wildfires.
–We all knew it was coming. I just never imagined what would come after…
I woke up from the storm only to find myself in…a cottage, of all places. -Needless to say, I swore I’d lost my goddamned mind. Confused doesn’t even begin to cover it.
Looking around, I realised—I remember this place! The linoleum-tiled kitchen with stained-red countertops. Pale sunlight filtered in from the windows around every wall. A pinewood dining table. A vintage desk covered in Post-it notes. A slapdash lava-rock fireplace stood as a tentpole rising from the centre of the household. Everything smelled of wood lacquer, soil dust and wool. Oh my god, I clasped a hand to my mouth. Tears burned behind my eyes. This is-!
“Hey there, kiddo.”
Everything seizes. My neck snaps to the source of the sound. What should be the source; he should be standing there right by the fridge. I should see his hand slipping from the door as he sees me come in. The room radiates cumin and pepper and charred meat. Steamed fluorescent light should be glinting off his comb-over hair—hound-Ish jowls stretching in a smile as he limps around the island to swallow me in his arms.
My eyes see nothing. Still, my lips move of their own accord, soundless. Still, I hear my voice in my ears.
“Hey there, Gramps, what’s shaking bacon?”
I sound like a child. But I remember this moment; I was fucking fifteen! My grip aches when my fingers clench the doorframe. Head turned to the kitchen; eyes locked on thin air. There’s nobody there. How can that space be empty? Where is his grease-smeared jeans and that light possum sweater he always wears? What about those age-bruised hands with those thick sausage fingers? That five o’clock shadow frizzing my hair where I’m tucked under his chin. His chuckle rolls like thunder in my chest. I can hear it.
“Not much, how about you? Didn’t your mother teach you how to cook?”
My laugh sounds like one of Grandma’s recycled windchimes. “Yea, if you want to know ten different types of pasta. Come on now, what ’cha making?”
Chicken and Onion Curry. That’s what he said. I remember. He said he learned it while on a mission in college…or was its med school? Was it him? Or was it Uncle Troy that—?
A small, pale hand waves in front of my face. I jolt.
The hand belonged to a petite young girl, no older than twelve, standing on one of the dining table chairs. Her babydoll dress made her look half the age she was. Wait a minute, I know that dress- With a curtain of long, platinum hair and the greenest eyes I’d ever seen - despite my misgivings I couldn’t help but stare. No…. No way, it can’t be! The smile on her face told me she was holding back giggles. My jaw dropped.
“Mavis?!”
The little girl finally let her laughter poke through. “No, no, no, good guess, though.”
“Wha-then how-” My brain stuttered and faltered, struggling to compute. “Am I- am I dreaming?”
The young stranger shook her head, adopting a more sombre tone. “No, I’m afraid you already know where you are.”
Everything about me set to trembling. I reached out for the nearest chair to steady myself. “Oh, my god….”
“Hm, not quite that either, but I understand the confusion,” the young girl patted my arm. If she were taller, she would have petted my hair. “I chose these forms from your memories, thinking they might comfort you,” she said softly. “I see I was mistaken. I’m sorry.”
I dropped my head into my hands. The burning in my eyes had become unbearable. “So, you mean-”
“Yes,” the girl acknowledged gravely. “When noticing your reaction to his voice, I quickly course-corrected. But the choice was in poor taste.”
At any other time, I would have opened my mouth to say, ‘it’s fine,’ or ‘don’t worry about it.’ But when I tried this time, the words wouldn’t come. Yet again, I felt the young girl’s hand rub soothing motions over my arm.
“It’s alright,” she assured me. “You don’t have to be okay. Just take your time.”
I cried right there for a little while. Sitting at the kitchen table, I let myself sob in the soothing presence of a stranger. In the same seat where Grandpa sat when he taught me how to see the world—making grand metaphors about the sea and how you shouldn’t worry about the wakes. Cause life was going to be full of big and little waves anyway. I couldn’t help laughing despite my tears.
The little girl seemed intrigued by this. “What’s the matter? Is something funny?”
“Not really,” I shook my head with a smile. My palms felt smoother than usual when I wiped my eyes. “Just wish I’d listened better, that’s all.”
“In what way?”
“Oh, just, you know-” It was clear from the look on her face that she didn’t know, so I tried my best: “I took everything so seriously in life - like every mistake was the end of the world. I feel like I never let myself enjoy life, you know? Not like he would’ve wanted me to….”
“I see,” the young girl considered me for a moment. Though I probably looked like a red-faced mess, she simply nodded and offered me her hand. “Follow me, if you please?”
“O-okay,” I took her offer, and she led me from the kitchen up the stairs to…well, to where Gramps’ office used to be. With his desk lamp, file organisers, his legal pad collection and those crooked shelves laden with books.
I remember setting a fold-out table next to his when I wrote my finals over the holiday break. The memory was enough to make my chest ache. The young girl walked up to his swivel chair and then glanced at me. I was startled a little. What, is she asking my permission? Not knowing what else to do, I just shrugged and motioned for her to ‘go right ahead.’
She acknowledged me with a nod and pulled herself onto it. I would have expected her to plop down in that seat and address me. But instead, she used it to stand and reach a thick, heavy tome on one of Gramps’ shelves. I reached after her-
“Hey, d’you need help with that?”
My words stopped her. She considered me through narrowed eyes. “No, thank you,” she said, polite if rather curt. “Though I believe a new form may be required for this task.”
Then she morphed into a…librarian. Complete with a long, crisply-tailored suit, full-moon glasses, markedly pointed ears and a dark gaze that could see into the very heart of you. And recite every line Shakespeare ever dreamed verbatim.
Adopting such a bookish likeness made the figure notably taller than that of Fairy Tail’s first Master. As such, she could more easily reach the right shelf and retrieve the book she was looking for. I caught a glimpse of the gold embossing on the spine. Korra Drake--wait, what?!
“Now,” she said, sitting in my grandfather’s swivel chair. “Let’s see here…Korra Maeve Drake, born August 6th, 1999, in Denver, where your younger sibling was born two years later before you moved and spent your remaining days in sunny California. You lived…mostly happily for the next fifteen years until perilous climate conditions resulted in your death.”
The storm. So, it did cause a wildfire….
She closed the book. “Any questions?”
“I-” That’s it? Is that all I did with my life? The moment the thought occurred to me; my stomach dropped. “My family! The neighbours, the town, what happened? Did anyone else-?”
The Librarian opened the book again, and the back page was exposed. “You were not the only fatality, but your blood relations were safely outside the evacuation zone at the time of the incident.”
Right. I was home alone…again. I should’ve figured that’d be the death of me. I shook myself. “What about my friends? Are any names listed there?”
“You want the list of the dead?”
Chills. Gooseflesh rushed over me as if a spectre had spilt cold water down my back. I shuddered. “You know what? Never mind. Another time.” It was hard to swallow past that feeling. Instead, I looked around my grandfather’s space, avoiding the calm being’s gaze. “So, uhm…what comes next? If this, if this is the afterlife…why am I the only one here?”
“Because this is your centre,” The woman said simply. “One among your happiest places in life that speaks to you as a soul.” Slowly, she stood, returning the book—my book—to its place on the shelf. “As for what comes next, that’s up to you.”
“R-really? O-okay, what, uhm, what are my options?”
At this, the woman simply shrugged. “Whatever you desire. As the saying goes, the ‘sky is the limit.’”
The expression gave me pause for the first time in my (after)life. So, it is…Those words were every creative’s wish come true. The idea of saying anything was possible because nothing could stand in the way of your imagination. And this time, it’s true. Fireworks lit me up from the inside. “Is it true that-?”
“Well, not quite so literally,” The librarian deadpanned. “If a mortal body truly reached for the sky, they’d run out of viable air-”
“Oh, no, sorry, not like that,” I clarified, rubbing the back of my neck. I met the Librarian’s dry look with a sheepish smile. “W-what I mean is-is there such a thing as the multiverse? Do-” Oh, gods, I can’t believe I’m asking this- “do fictional worlds exist? Somewhere out there?”
The Librarian looked surprised but nodded. “Indeed,” she said. “Anything ever imagined has been created, and each contains its own infinite reality.”
“Would it be possible, er, would you be willing to— “How do I even begin to phrase this? Even just my spiralled train of thinking seemed utterly ridiculous. But hey. I was already talking to a face-changing librarian of the afterlife, so—I suppose we can only go up from here.
“What I mean is, would you be willing to give me another chance? In a new world, with all my memories?” Even if I had to start from the beginning - if what I’m thinking of actually works, everything would be worth it.
“Hm,” The librarian quirked a brow as she spoke. “Go on….”
I grinned. Just what every creative mind dreams of. A captivated audience. “Okay, so picture this, right? Say I wanted to go to Mashima’s Fairy Tail world- the story you got Mavis from in my memories,” Spirit nodded. Sparks danced to my fingertips. She’s listening! “Would you be willing to drop me off at a certain point in that timeline, just a bit smaller than I am now?”
Her lips twitched a little. “You have an age and time in mind, I assume?”
“Plan’s forming as we speak,” I grin. No, I’m beaming like an idiot. But I can’t help it! My soul is practically vibrating with excitement. “Might tweak my name, though, just a little bit.”
“That so? It’s not often I get such inventive requests,” She was smiling outwardly now. “I’m curious as to where you’re going with this; please, do tell.”
“Alrighty then,” I clapped my hands together, a split second away from mimicking some cartoon supervillain. “First things first, food, water, shelter and plot.”
“Interesting priorities,”
“You’ll see what I mean in a minute,” I promised. “Just let me know if I reach a point you consider too far.”
She nodded.
“Kay. So, Fairy Tail Universe-” I can only assume the reason this Spirit chose Mavis when she first appeared to me. But with something as important as guiding souls through life after death, she must’ve known- “I’d like to live just outside of Magnolia, close enough to easily walk to the Fairy Tail guild hall. Let’s say-” I glanced around, something within me glowing at the thought. “-a cabin, just like this one. That’s food, shelter and running water all in one fell swoop.”
The Spirit glanced around as well, considering. “Seems large for just one person. Are you sure about that?”
I shrugged as casually as I could. “Grandma lived alone here for decades before finding Gramps again. If she could do it, I’ll be fine.”
After a moment, the Spirit nodded. “Alright, so long as you’re sure.”
“I am.”
“Very well then,” she acquiesced. “But since you mentioned age regression, I’d like you to earn your keep by thirteen. Do you think you can do that?”
“Shouldn’t be a problem,” A bald-faced lie. In truth, I wasn’t sure. Child labour laws were never really clarified in the source material (that I’m aware of). But, seeing the level of child endangerment in the series…what was one more? “Would it be possible-” Again, I had to correct my wording. “Would you be willing to provide a set amount of money in the meantime? Roughly about five years’ worth of food and clothes?”
“If I were mortal, I’d dare say that’s beneath my paygrade,” she drawled with a glint in her eye. “But~ seeing as we’re having so much fun, I suppose I can be a bit generous.”
“Awesome, thank you!” I cheered. It was sorely tempting actually to jump for joy at the small victory.
“Anything else?”
“Yes! Right, okay, so. I know this is going to sound minor, but hear me out,” I promised. “Middle names aren’t exactly a thing in the Fairy Tail world. And, as you could probably tell from my memories, I don’t like mine very much,” The Librarian gave me a dry look. I shrugged a sheepish smile. “But the thing is…now that we’re going through this, I know I’m not going to see my family again. And I don’t want to lose a part of the name they gave me. Does that make sense?”
“...I suppose,” The Librarian spirit drawled carefully. “What would you suggest instead?”
“Uhm, that’s a good question. Er,” I scrubbed a hand over my forehead, trying to think. Is there a way to anagram it? Oh, gods, no, that’s too much brainpower for me. Uh, okay, is there a way to combine the two? I mean…that could work, but what- What about…Make? No. Drave? Oh god, no, not that. “Hm, what about, Drak-mae? Drachmae?” Oh, God, that sounds so weird. I practically cringed at myself. The Spirit’s going to fucking laugh in my face for this stupid idea-!
“Hm. Not bad, granted.”
Wait, what?!
“Now that that’s taken care of,” The Spirit said, returning to her cup of tea. “Have you decided your magic?”
“Ah, right,” My mind reeled. Frantic to recall all the possible magic and lost magics of the world I loved so much.
The Spirit must have read my mind. She rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to do what others have done,” she said. “If you invent or re-engineer a magic, I’ll grant you extra.”
“Really? Ha-ha, sweet!” Ever since I was little, I always wanted to work with Elemental magic. Lucy and Jellal’s Stellar Magics were probably better in impact and firepower. But honestly, the type of magic I always found most impressive was from Avatar the Last Airbender. -Oh, my god! I gasped with excitement. “Okay, I’ve got an idea.”
Now - I don’t want to copy and paste from the Avatar series. Besides, in the Fairy Tail Universe, it would be…more than a little complicated for four diametrically opposed elements to be juggled by someone who wasn’t already a Wizard Saint in their respective skillset. So, if I wanted to have a type of magic that simultaneously encompassed multiple elements…I’d have to get creative.
“How about this? In the series, humans can learn magic from other creatures, right? So, what if-” the more I thought about it, the more the gears started turning. Thoughts of Natsu and Grey, Laxus and Juvia flashed in my head. “What if, instead of learning from Dragons, like the Slayers did, I learned something called Seeker magic, inspired by the forces of nature.” Just like how they did in Avatar’s mythology. Not just Dragons, Bison or Badger Moles but also from the Moon and the Sea. “Like, maybe I could have an affinity for elements you’d find in a storm: windstorm, rainstorm, lightning storm, snowstorm, stuff like that.”
“Surely there are more storms than that,” The Librarian frowned. For a moment, I could’ve sworn she was genuinely disappointed.
“There is. I just can’t think of them off the top of my head,” I said. “But if there’s a storm for it, I could find them and learn from them.” In this metaphor, at least. If it was a naturally occurring element, I could figure it out. A literal ‘force of nature’. God, wouldn’t that be awesome?
Her head tilted a moment, deep in thought. “I see…that is quite clever. Is that all?”
I took my cue and ran with it. “If possible, I’d also like an affinity for Teleportation and Reequip Magic.”
At that, her brows furrowed. “For weapons? In a fighting capacity?”
“To some extent, sure, but honestly, I think I’d use them more for transportation and to store the essentials. First aid kit, rations, you know, stuff for emergencies.”
Her frown morphed into a smile. “Determined to be prepared this time, I see. So, humans do learn.” Oh, you don’t know the half of it, Lady. I thought. The Spirit’s eyes narrowed. “Although…” I don’t know how, but a cup and saucer had miraculously appeared in her hands. She took a sip from the delicate porcelain with an expectant gaze. “Spatial magic is antipodal to Elemental magic, from what I understand. Unless you can argue there are storms in space, I don’t see how-”
“Easy, Solar storms are a thing. A combination of Light, Fire and Spatial magic.” I stated simply. “Though, if you’d prefer, I could look for some form of elemental magic with teleporting or storage capacities.”
She blinked. Owlish and off-guard for just a split second before regaining her composure. Another sip of tea. “Touche...I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you,” I nodded. I even dared to bow slightly as a show of appreciation. She smiled a little at that.
“But,” she cautioned, setting her beverage aside. “I’m afraid that even my capabilities have their limits. I cannot give you these powers outright. I can only give you the tools you need to learn them; an affinity for the elements, like you said, a large magical core, and a collection of research materials to help you learn yours and the associated types of magic.”
“Understood,” Her words caught up to me. Now it was my turn to frown, head tilted in concern. “Wait, is that possible? To have resources dedicated to magic I just made up?”
“Well, as you said, yours is built off pre-existing elements. Every kind of storm comes with a base component already thoroughly researched in that world,” the Spirit explained. “Your original component, that of the Seeker, will now be known as a Lost Magic. One that you, in particular, have, along with any tools you’ll need to perfect it.” the next time she met my eyes, there was this carefully pointed glint to her gaze. “-How powerful would you like to be?”
“As powerful as you can make me,” I replied instantly. “I’ll take care of the rest. Training and practicing are part of the job as a wizard, right?” I cracked a smile, but only for a moment. With everything that everyone goes through in the series…it’s not going to be just me who needs to buck up and face the music. And with whatever changes might happen to the timeline, I will need all the support I can get.
Another slow nod. “Consider it done. Now for the matter of the age regression. -What year would you like to be born?”
Calendar math was never my strong suit. I wish I could have been more gifted with arithmetic, but alas. Trying to calculate time and years for a calendar that was not my own…certainly took a hot second. If I remember correctly, Lucy and Natsu were (at least physically) seventeen when the story started. I remember Laxus being the oldest of that particular generation. I think he was about… twenty-one? Twenty-three? I’ll swing for the latter just to be on the safe side. Maybe I could shoot for twenty years old? It’s not much older than I currently am. And it could serve as a happy medium between the youngest and the oldest of the primary generation.
Okay, so if Lucy’s seventeen in X784, she would’ve been born around X767 (I think?), which would mean Laxus would’ve been born around X761. If that’s the case, then the happy medium I’m shooting for would be—
“Year X-seven-sixty-four,” I finally said. “Does that work alright?”
“Yes. With that in mind, you’ll be reverted to a childlike form, at least externally, to about…let’s say seven years old?” She glanced at me, and I simply shrugged. Didn’t mind either way. This was already more generous than I was expecting. “Hm. Yes, seven will do nicely. If you start below ten, you’ll have a better chance of adapting to your magic.”
“Perfect,” I grinned.
Once again, she gave me another hesitant glance. “Are you sure about this? Whatever comes from this agreement, what's done cannot be undone. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” I have never been surer of anything in my life.
“Then,” It seemed she finally allowed herself to smile. “It’s time to start your new journey, Korra. This is your second chance; hold on tight and enjoy the ride. -Good luck.”
“Thank you,” I smiled softly. Tell Gramps I’ll make him proud.
The world turned white--and The Librarian disappeared.