Mirajane Strauss.
She had a smile that could melt glaciers and a gentle demeanor that seemed almost out of place amidst the guild's usual uproar.
Yet, Eshu's initial scan of her magical power had revealed something significant beneath that placid surface. Something potent, and currently dormant.
Interesting. She's strong. Very strong. But she hides it well.
She had approached him after the initial welcome died down, her white hair framing a kind face.
"Welcome to Fairy Tail, Eshu," she'd said, her voice soft but clear. "It's always lovely to have a new face around. Especially one who can keep Erza on her toes."
A polite smile touched Eshu's lips. "She's a formidable opponent."
"She is," Mirajane agreed. "The strongest woman in the guild, no doubt."
Now, Mirajane was taking it upon herself to give him a proper who's who of the members currently present.
She gestured with a graceful hand.
"Of course, you've already met our Guild Master, Makarov Dreyar," she began, nodding towards the small old man who was now dispensing advice to a dejected looking Nab Lasaro at the request board.
Makarov. Immensely powerful. Titan magic, among other things. His knowledge of magic history and theory must be vast. Eshu filed away the potential for future learning.
"And Natsu Dragneel, our resident Fire Dragon Slayer."
Natsu was currently attempting to coax his blue, winged cat, Happy, into some mischief involving a bucket and the rafters. Happy, holding a fish, seemed skeptical.
"Don't forget me, Happy!" the cat chirped.
"Yes, and Happy," Mirajane chuckled. "They're quite the pair."
Dragon Slayer magic. A Lost Magic. Natsu's fire is unique. Happy… an Exceed. Fascinating species. Their aerial capabilities and Natsu's seemingly limitless energy…
"And Gray Fullbuster, our Ice-Make mage."
Gray was arguing with Natsu again, clothes already discarded despite the ambient temperature.
Ice-Make. Dynamic, versatile. His control is impressive, almost instinctive. The stripping habit is… a personal quirk, I suppose. Doesn't detract from his skill.
"You've had the pleasure of Erza Scarlet, our Requip specialist." Erza was now meticulously cleaning her armor in a corner, occasionally glaring at Natsu and Gray to keep their chaos contained.
Erza. S-Class. Master of Requip, swordsmanship, and various armors with unique enchantments. Her dedication is formidable. The speed of her Requips is something to aspire to. All I need to do... is practice tomorrow.
Mirajane continued, her voice pleasant as she guided his attention.
"That's Levy McGarden, with Jet and Droy. They're Team Shadow Gear."
Levy, a petite girl with vibrant blue hair, was engrossed in a book, while Jet (tall, orange-haired, high-speed magic) and Droy (sturdy, plant magic) were trying to get her attention.
Levy. Solid Script magic. Intellectually sharp. Jet's speed could be useful to study for agility enchantments. Droy's plant control… nature-based enchantments have potential.
"Cana Alberona, over there with the barrel." Cana was, indeed, very close to a large barrel of booze, playing a card game with Macao Conbolt and Wakaba Mine, two older, veteran mages.
Cana. Card Magic. Divination potential? Significant alcohol tolerance. Macao uses Purple Haze fire, Wakaba uses smoke magic. Older generation, perhaps different perspectives on magic application.
"My brother, Elfman Strauss." Elfman was proudly flexing, proclaiming something about being a "real man" to Alzack Connel and Bisca Mulan, a couple who specialized in gun-based magic.
Elfman. Take Over: Beast Soul. Raw physical power. His transformations are potent. Alzack and Bisca… Gun Magic. Projectile enchantments? Arcane ammunition?
"And of course, I'm Mirajane," she said with another warm smile.
Mirajane. Satan Soul, from what I gathered. A high-tier Take Over. She's holding back immense power. Why? Past trauma? Or just preference for peace?
She pointed out others.
Max Alors, a sociable mage using Sand Magic.
Warren Rocko, who used Telepathy magic, currently looking stressed as he relayed several messages at once.
Reedus Jonah, an artist who could bring his drawings to life using Pict Magic.
Nab Lasaro, perpetually standing before the request board but rarely taking a job.
Vijeeter Ecor, a dancer whose magic enhanced his movements.
Laki Olietta, who used Wood-Make magic with a peculiar, almost sculptural style.
And Loke.
Loke, with his stylish glasses and confident air, was currently charming a couple of the guild's less prominent female members.
Eshu's internal knowledge, however, flagged something unique about Loke.
Celestial Spirit. Leo the Lion. Interesting. He's hiding his true nature from most. Why? Contract issues? Loyalty to a former master? His Regulus magic is light-based and powerful.
Mirajane then sighed softly. "There are a few key members not here today, of course."
"The Thunder God Tribe – Laxus Dreyar, the Guild Master's grandson, along with Freed Justine, Evergreen, and Bickslow. They're usually off on their own S-Class missions."
Laxus. Another Dragon Slayer, Lightning. Powerful, arrogant according to some records. Freed, runes and enchantments. Evergreen, Stone Eyes. Bickslow, Seith Magic, dolls. A formidable team within the guild.
"Then there's Porlyusica. She's our… medical advisor, though she prefers to live alone in the woods and dislikes people. She's incredibly skilled in healing magic, though."
Porlyusica. A recluse. Advanced healing. Probably holds knowledge of medicinal herbs and magical ailments unavailable in common texts.
"And Gildarts Clive…" Mirajane's expression became more somber, a hint of awe in her voice. "He's Fairy Tail's Ace. Our most powerful mage. He's currently away on a 100-Year Quest."
Gildarts Clive. Crush magic. Disassembles anything he touches. Immensely destructive and reconstructive. A 100-Year Quest… a task of legendary difficulty. His experience must be unparalleled.
Eshu absorbed every name, every scrap of information.
Not just facts, but the subtle nuances in Mirajane's tone, the reactions of nearby guild members as certain names were mentioned.
This was the ecosystem of Fairy Tail.
A complex web of relationships, rivalries, and shared history.
And now, he was part of it.
"Thank you, Mirajane," Eshu said, genuinely. "It's a lot to take in, but I appreciate the introductions."
"Not at all!" she beamed. "We're a big, chaotic family. You'll get to know everyone eventually. Usually by bumping into them during a fight or a party."
Eshu chuckled. "I'm starting to understand that."
His mind was already cross-referencing, analyzing, looking for synergies.
The combined magical knowledge and diverse skill sets within these walls…
It was even richer than he'd initially anticipated.
His enchantments would be revolutionary.
———
As the last dregs of the party wound down, with Mirajane beginning to gently shoo the more resilient revelers towards the doors, Eshu slipped out.
He'd seen the dedicated core settling in for what looked like an all-night session. Experience – well, instantaneous understanding of human behavior – told him tomorrow morning would involve a lot of groaning and misplaced regrets for that particular group.
He preferred a clearer head.
The night air was cool, a welcome change from the stuffy, ale-scented warmth of the guild hall.
Magnolia was quiet now, the boisterous heart of Fairy Tail finally subdued.
Instead of seeking lodging, Eshu headed towards the outskirts of town, drawn by a large body of water he'd noted on the mental map he'd constructed of the area.
Lake Sciliora. It was vast, more like a small sea than a typical lake, its far shore barely visible even in daylight.
He found a secluded spot along its banks, the water dark and still beneath the starry sky.
Stripping down to his trousers, he waded in.
The water was cold, invigorating.
He began to swim.
Not for leisure, but for training.
Long, powerful strokes, cutting through the water with an efficiency born of perfectly understood hydrodynamics and anatomy.
He swam for hours, pushing his endurance, feeling the strain in his muscles, the rhythmic burn in his lungs.
It was a grounding experience, the physical exertion a counterpoint to the immense mental activity of the day.
He crossed a significant stretch of the lake, reaching a deserted shoreline far from Magnolia, shrouded in trees.
Emerging from the water, steam rising from his skin in the cool night, he felt… good.
Physically taxed, mentally sharp.
Now, for the real work.
He stood on the damp sand, the only sounds the lapping of water and the rustle of leaves.
Requip.
He closed his eyes for a moment, focusing his will.
He'd witnessed Erza's. He understood the principles. The creation of a personal pocket dimension, a storage space for his armory.
His mind, guided by Instant Learning, constructed the most efficient method. A stable, secure, and easily accessible dimensional fold.
It shimmered into existence, not as a visible tear in reality, but as a knowing in his mind, a mental doorway he could now access.
Empty. For now.
He opened his eyes. His sword and shield lay on the sand beside his discarded shirt.
He picked up the sword.
"Requip."
The word was soft, a mere breath, but filled with intent.
The sword vanished from his hand.
He could feel it, sense its presence within his newly formed dimensional space.
He reached out, mentally.
"Requip."
The sword was back in his hand, the transition seamless, instantaneous.
A small smile played on his lips.
It works. Perfectly.
He did the same with his shield. Vanished. Reappeared.
The core of his new fighting style was now functional.
Next. Enchantments.
He sat on a smooth, water-warn rock.
The flood of ideas from observing the Fairy Tail mages was still fresh.
He didn't need a forge, or rare materials, or complex rituals. Not for the kind of enchantments he was envisioning.
His Instant Learning showed him how to manipulate ambient magical energy, how to weave it directly into the matrix of an object, imbuing it with specific properties.
The key was precision and understanding.
He held his mundane sword.
Temporary enchantments. Subtle. Deceptive.
He focused.
He envisioned the steel of his blade, not gleaming and new, but ancient, corroded.
He wove this illusion, this property of apparent decay, into the sword's surface.
Not true rust. Not structural weakness.
Just the appearance of it.
A thin, almost invisible layer of magic settled onto the blade.
Under the moonlight, the sword now looked… pathetic.
Rusted patches bloomed across its surface. The edge seemed chipped and dull. It looked like it would snap if it hit anything harder than water.
Eshu ran a thumb carefully along the edge.
Still razor sharp. Still perfectly balanced.
The illusion was flawless.
He did the same for his shield.
The wood appeared warped and brittle. The steel bands, pitted and weak.
It looked like a forgotten relic, ready to crumble.
Good. Let them underestimate.
But this was just the surface illusion.
The real innovation was the concept of instant application and removal of active enchantments.
He wasn't just making his gear look old. He was preparing a system.
He would maintain this deceptive appearance as a baseline.
Then, in the heat of battle, with a thought, he could overlay powerful, temporary enchantments.
A sudden blaze of Natsu-like fire.
A shimmering shield of Gray's ice.
The surprising resilience of Elfman's hide.
These effects would flare into existence, shocking his opponents, then vanish just as quickly, leaving behind the illusion of his rusted, brittle gear.
It would be disorienting. Unpredictable.
They'd think they were fighting a poorly equipped novice, only to be blindsided by bursts of high-level, varied magic.
And once the effect was gone, they'd be left wondering if they'd imagined it, looking again at his seemingly useless equipment.
Misdirection. Psychological warfare woven into my fighting style.
He practiced.
He envisioned an enchantment of extreme sharpness, far beyond what the simple steel could normally hold.
He "applied" it to the rusted-looking sword, a silent command.
For a moment, an almost imperceptible glint of pure power overlaid the illusory rust. Then it was gone, the effect stored, ready to be unleashed upon impact.
He did the same with his shield, layering a temporary enchantment of kinetic absorption.
The beauty was in the control. He could apply them, retract them, switch them, all in the flicker of an eye, all beneath the facade of his decrepit gear.
This wasn't just about having strong enchantments.
It was about the art of their application.
A performance. A deadly, surprising performance.
He spent hours by the lakeside, refining this new system.
Requipping his "ancient" weapons.
Practicing the mental application of dozens of different temporary enchantments, drawn from the inspirations of the guild.
Fire. Ice. Lightning. Hardening. Speed. Impact force. Elemental resistance. Minor healing.
Each one could be flicked on and off like a switch, their true nature hidden until the moment of use.
The moon began to dip towards the horizon.
Eshu finally stood, his "rusted" sword and "brittle" shield in hand.
He felt a deep satisfaction.
His core abilities were now defined.
Sword and Shield Fighter.
Master Enchanter – though his current style was more "Master of Deceptive and Temporary Enchantments."
Requip Master.
He requipped his deceptively weak-looking gear into his new dimensional storage.
The blank slate of his white guild mark seemed to almost glow in the pre-dawn light.
They'll see an amateur with garbage equipment.
They'll learn better.
He dressed, ready to head back towards Magnolia as the sun began to rise.
A new day. A new member of Fairy Tail.
And a whole world of people to surprise.