The moment Makarov declared him a member, the guild hall erupted.
If it was chaotic before, it was pandemonium now.
Someone thrust a tankard of ale into Eshu's hand.
Music, loud and boisterous, started up again, the lute player now joined by a surprisingly skilled drummer using two empty barrels and a spoon.
Natsu, the pink-haired Dragon Slayer, clapped Eshu on the back hard enough to make his teeth rattle.
"You were awesome! Fighting Erza like that! Hah!" Natsu roared. "We gotta fight next!"
Gray Fullbuster, somehow now missing his shirt again, offered a more restrained, "Not bad. You got moves."
Even Erza, a fresh slice of cake in hand, gave him a nod of approval. "A strong addition to the guild."
The party was in full swing. For him. Eshu Dio. The newcomer.
He found himself swept along by the sheer, unrestrained joy of the place.
He drank. He laughed. He even found himself sharing a brief, nonsensical arm-wrestling match with a burly, laughing man named Elfman, whose arm felt like solid granite.
It was a whirlwind of noise, energy, and surprising acceptance.
No one asked about his past, his origins.
He was strong. He had proven it. For Fairy Tail, that often seemed to be enough to start.
This was… nice.
A respite.
A moment to simply be, without the constant drive to learn, to acquire, to prepare.
He leaned against a rough-hewn wooden pillar, watching the chaos unfold.
A genuine smile touched his lips.
It was a far cry from anything he'd ever known.
Normally, this is the part where I'd be staring out a window, all broody.
His mind, unbidden, drifted.
Not to the complexities of magic or the political tensions of Ishgar.
But back. To a different life. A different world.
High school graduation… felt like a lifetime ago. Or maybe yesterday. Hard to tell sometimes.
He remembered the cheap suit he'd borrowed. The awkward photos.
The sense of an ending, but not much of a beginning.
Worked since I was a kid.
Paper routes before dawn. Stocking shelves after school. Any odd job to bring in a little extra.
Not for himself. For them.
Mom and Dad… they tried. Always said, "We can't afford it, son."
That phrase echoed.
"We can't afford it."
New shoes. School trips. The movies everyone else was talking about. Concerts. Comics. Games.
The vibrant tapestry of youth culture, of entertainment… it had been a distant, inaccessible thing.
A frustration at first. Then, a dull acceptance.
Eventually, a complete lack of interest.
Why care about shows I'll never see? Movies I'll never watch? Stories that aren't mine?
It had built a wall. Not of bitterness, but of… detachment.
Those things were for other people.
He'd focused on what was real, what was necessary. Work. Study (the kind that might lead to a better job, not the kind for fun).
And now… now he was here.
In a world brimming with things more fantastic than any comic book.
With powers straight out of a video game he'd never played.
He looked around the guild hall.
Mages who could eat fire and conjure ice. Warriors in magical armor.
They were laughing, fighting, living with an intensity that was almost overwhelming.
And I'm one of them. Funny how things turn out.
The detachment was still there, a little.
He didn't share their histories, their inside jokes, their easy camaraderie built over years.
Not yet.
But the drive, the core of him that had pushed through years of "we can't afford it," found a new focus here.
Instead of mundane work for meager pay, it was about mastering the impossible.
Instead of a future limited by circumstance, it was about forging one with power he could scarcely have dreamed of.
The party raged on.
Cana Alberona, a woman with long brown hair, challenged him to a drinking contest.
He accepted. His enhanced constitution, a side benefit of absorbing knowledge about biology and endurance, served him well.
He wouldn't reminisce by a window.
There was too much to do. Too much to learn. Too much to become.
His past was a closed book, read and understood.
This world, Fairy Tail, his new abilities – this was the open chapter.
And he was going to write a saga.
He raised his tankard, meeting Cana's challenging grin.
This brief respite was good.
But the climb to the top… that was the real entertainment. And this time, he could afford the entry fee.
———
The party eventually, gradually, began to wind down.
Or rather, it shifted from outright bedlam to a slightly more subdued, if still noisy, state of camaraderie.
Makarov, the Guild Master, approached Eshu. He held a small, intricate stamp.
"Time to make it official, son," Makarov said, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Where do you want your mark? And what color?"
Eshu considered. The guild mark. A symbol of belonging.
He thought of his journey so far. The blank slate he represented in this world, yet filled with an ever-expanding library of knowledge.
He extended his right forearm, palm up.
He indicated a specific spot on the inner forearm, along the path of the flexor carpi radialis muscle. A place both visible if he chose, and easily concealed.
"Here," Eshu said. "And white, if possible."
Makarov nodded, understanding in his gaze. "White it is. A clean page, eh? Ready for new stories."
The old master pressed the stamp firmly against Eshu's skin.
A brief, cool sensation, like a touch of ice, then a faint warmth.
When Makarov lifted the stamp, the Fairy Tail emblem was there.
Stark white against his skin.
Perfect.
A blank slate. A symbol of endless learning. Fitting.
It felt… right. More than just an insignia. It felt like an anchor.
He flexed his forearm. The white mark stood out, clean and sharp.
His.
Natsu, ever curious, leaned in for a closer look. "White, huh? Cool! Most people pick something flashier!"
"It suits him," Erza commented quietly, observing from nearby.
Eshu simply nodded.
He now bore their mark. He was, officially, one of them.
As the evening progressed, and the initial explosive energy of the welcome party gave way to smaller conversations and shared drinks, Eshu's mind was, as always, working.
The brawls. The casual displays of magic.
He hadn't just been participating or observing idly.
He had been learning.
Natsu's Fire Dragon Slayer Magic. Not just the flames, but the way he ate fire, the way his body converted it into power. The specific properties of his unique fire.
Fascinating. Can fire be enchanted with… edibility for a Dragon Slayer? Or an enchantment that mimics the properties of his scales for defense?
Gray's Ice-Make magic. The speed of his constructs, the versatility. From shields to cannons to intricate, delicate keys.
Ice that never melts? Ice that can absorb other elements? Or Requip storage made of magically hardened, permanent ice?
Elfman's Take Over magic, Beast Soul. Transforming parts of his body, or his entire form, into powerful magical beasts.
Enchantments that synergize with transformation? Or that stabilize unstable Take Overs? Perhaps an armor set that adapts to the bestial form?
Levy McGarden, a petite blue-haired mage, was an expert in Solid Script magic, literally bringing words to life.
Can letters themselves be enchanted onto a blade to activate specific effects when spoken? Or runes that rewrite themselves to adapt to an enemy's weakness?
The ideas flooded his mind, a torrent of possibilities.
Each mage in Fairy Tail, with their unique magic, was a walking, talking, brawling textbook of inspiration.
He wasn't just going to learn from them.
He was going to take the essence of their distinct abilities and weave them into his enchanting.
Not copying. Synthesizing. Innovating.
His sword and shield wouldn't just be sharp and hard.
They could be so much more.
A shield that could sprout Natsu-like flames on command.
A sword that could chill to absolute zero, reflecting Gray's control over ice.
Armor that could adapt, taking on the properties of Elfman's beasts.
The potential was limitless.
He filed each idea, each observation, away.
Not just as passive knowledge. But as active blueprints.
Yes. This guild isn't just a place to belong. It's a forge.
And I have a lot of weaponizing to do.
He looked at his new white guild mark.
A blank slate.
Ready to be inscribed with a legend of his own making.
The night was still young, and Fairy Tail was still full of energy.
But Eshu was already looking towards the dawn, and the work that awaited.
His work.