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By afternoon, the tavern was getting pretty packed and noisy.
Erza stayed in the far corner table. She sat stiff as a board, still wearing that rusted beach armor and holding her dented short sword right against her leg. She didn't look down. Every time the front doors swung open and some wizard walked in shouting, her hand tightened on the hilt until her knuckles turned white.
Her stomach let out a massive growl. She hadn't eaten anything in days, but since she didn't have any jewels, she just sat there starving and staring at the door.
A heavy plate slammed onto the table right in front of her.
"Eat. You look depressing," Merlin said.
He pulled a chair out, flipped it around, and sat backward with his chin on his arms. The plate was loaded with hot roasted chicken, a pile of mashed potatoes, and a thick slice of bread.
Erza pulled her sword closer to her chest and glared. "I didn't order this. I can't pay you back, Merlin."
"Did I ask for cash?" Merlin snorted, waving his hand. "The old man runs a tab. Besides, if you starve to death, I wasted a perfectly good artifact fixing your eye last night. Start chewing."
Erza looked at the food. The smell completely broke her hesitation. She dropped the sword on the chair, grabbed a chicken leg with both hands, and started ripping into it like a feral dog. She kept her head down, chewing fast, her eyes darting around the room to make sure nobody was coming to snatch the plate away.
Merlin just watched her, his usual smirk gone as he rested his head on his arms.
"Hey," Merlin said, his blunt voice cutting through her panic. "Slow down before you choke. Nobody in this tavern is going to lock you in a cage, kid. If any of those cultists show up in Magnolia, I'll literally throw a mountain at them. Drop your shoulders before you snap your own neck."
Erza stopped chewing, her mouth full. She looked at his bored face, then slowly lowered the chicken leg. Her shoulders finally loosened up a bit, the armor making a tiny clink.
"Good. Finish the potatoes," Merlin grunted.
"Hey! You! White-coat cheat!"
A shout came from the aisle. Ten-year-old Gray Fullbuster was marching over, stomping his boots hard. He had his jacket on this time—though he was missing his socks—and he looked pissed. He stopped at the table and slammed a wooden practice sword right next to Erza's plate.
"You cheated this morning, Merlin!" Gray yelled, pointing a finger. "You hit me with that stick while I wasn't looking!"
"You were standing there in your underwear, brat. I did everyone a favor," Merlin said.
"Shut up!" Gray's face turned red, and he immediately snapped his glare toward Erza. "And you! If you're going to live here, prove you aren't just some weak runaway hiding behind the older guys! Pick up a sword and fight me!"
Erza's fork hit the table with a loud clack. Her good eye narrowed. She stood straight up, grabbing her dented iron blade.
"I am not weak," Erza hissed, her voice going completely cold. "And I don't hide. You want to fight, striped boy? Let's go."
"Oh, it's on! Don't cry when I break that rusty junk!" Gray barked, pulling a second wooden blade out from his belt.
Makarov yelled from the bar counter. "If you two break a table, I'm cutting your food tabs!"
Merlin just leaned his cheek into his palm, a lazy smirk creeping back onto his face as he watched them argue.
"You heard the old man," Merlin chuckled, tossing his staff onto his shoulder. "Go out to the dirt courtyard in the back. I want to see if Gray's footwork is still completely pathetic."
"My footwork is fine!" Gray screamed, turning around and stomping toward the back doors.
Erza didn't say anything. She gripped her iron sword and marched right out behind him.
The backyard was just a big patch of mud and wet dirt surrounded by a fence.
Merlin sat on an old wooden crate by the wall, chewing on an apple like a slacker watching a street fight.
"Keep it clean, brats," Merlin called out. "Or don't. A little mud might actually improve Gray's face."
"Shut up!" Gray yelled.
He lunged forward, swinging his wooden sword down with a grunt. Erza didn't try to dodge it. She brought her heavy iron sword up with both hands, meeting his hit with a brutal, ringing CLANG that sent vibrations straight down Gray's arms.
"Whoa! That's a real sword?!" Gray gasped, his boots sliding back in the wet dirt.
"I told you, I am a knight," Erza said flatly.
She drove her weight forward, swinging the heavy blade in a wide, aggressive arc. Her moves were completely messy and wild, just raw desperation to hit him. Gray had to jump back twice, his bare feet splashing through a puddle as he frantically blocked her slashes, the wood of his practice sword splintering against her iron edge.
"Ice-Make: Floor!" Gray shouted, slamming his hand flat into the mud.
A patch of slick ice spread across the dirt right under Erza's boots. Her iron soles hit the ice, her balance completely broke, and she went sliding sideways into the dirt. Gray smirked, leaping through the air with his wooden sword raised high.
Erza didn't quit. As she hit the ground, she swung her left leg straight up, her heavy metal boot catching Gray right in the ribs.
"Oof!" Gray choked, the air leaving him.
Both of them went tumbling into the thick mud together, rolling over until they crashed into a pile of old firewood by the fence.
Erza pushed herself up onto her knees, her face and red hair completely covered in brown muck. Gray was sitting right next to her, clutching his side, a massive streak of mud dragged across his nose. They just sat there in the dirt, breathing heavily and glaring at each other.
From the crate, Merlin let out a loud laugh, clapping his hands. "Beautiful! Ten out of ten for the landing, Gray! You look like a drowned pig!"
"Shut up, Merlin!" Gray barked, throwing a clump of mud at him, but Merlin just swatted it away with his staff.
Erza sat back in the dirt, looking down at her muddy hands, then over at Gray, who was still grumbling and rubbing his ribs. There were no guards yelling, no whips, and no cells. The old man was just screaming inside, and the boy next to her was just a stupid kid her own age.
A tiny smirk hit the corner of Erza's mouth before she quickly wiped it away. She stood up and pulled her sword out of the mud.
"You use weird magic, striped boy," Erza muttered, turning around to walk toward the wash stations.
"It's Ice-Make, dummy! And my name is Gray!" he yelled after her, though he was grinning a little bit as he picked up his broken practice sword.
Merlin hopped down from his crate, throwing his staff over his shoulder with a lazy grin. "Not bad, tin can. You might actually survive this place."
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[ If you want to read an extra chapter ahead, go check out the p@treon
Search for foresight_geek or https://[email protected]/c/foresight_geek,
you can buy a membership for the entire month just for -- 1 $ ]