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crazyzaika · 5 years ago

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Prophecy unguided Chapter 1

Yes I know, I haven't finished the other things yet, but this is going to be short, so I thought I'd come around the corner, give a sign of life from me and see how the idea goes down.

Well then. Chapter 1. Tell me what you think.

Content: Lucy is a sacred witch. Already since her birth this very special prophecy exists. A fight she has to win and an enemy she has to defeat. But then fate intervenes and overturns all plans.

Rating: M

Genre: Romance, Drama, Violence, War

Pairings: NaLu(mainly), Hints on: Gajevy, Gruvia, Jerza, Bixanna, Annalogia

Have fun ♥

Greetings Z ♥

Chapter 1

Magic filled the air, letting her senses humming. Lucy sat up high in an empty temple hall. Frankincense and lavender filled the air, joined with her magic. Countless candles stood in the room, filled the air with their gentle scent, warming the room. She wore nothing but a white, floor-length robe. Coarsely woven fabric of linen. The long blond hair she wore open. She breathed deeply, felt the plucking of magic, felt the power of the ley lines. She stretched her mind and further impressions filled her senses. She could hear the soft scraping of the insects in the ground, heard worms eating their way through the earth. The tickle of the air on her skin as someone at the other end of the temple walked through the wide portal. Sweat beads stepped on her forehead as she stretched her mind even further.

Quiet voices reached her ears, the whispering of mice, the croaking of ravens. Then she heard the laughter of the people in the village, which was about 100 kilometres away. Her heartbeat quickened and she sank deeper into herself not to lose control. Smells reached her nose. The stench of alcohol, the smell of fatty fried meat, the seductive smell of fresh bread and fresh fruit and vegetables. The crying of children, the laughter of men and women. People who argued, laughed together or enjoyed each other. Slight heat rose into her cheeks, but Lucy concentrated a little more, expanded her senses further, stretched them further, extending her magic. Her body trembled under the strain of maintaining control, strengthening and expanding her magical abilities. Her heartbeat quickened under the physical strain. Sweat lay on her skin and her breathing increased, but she refused to stop.

This was so incredibly important. She had to be strong. Because if she wasn't, if she didn't take her task, her mission seriously, then they would be doomed. She knew that and without enough magic, without control she would be nothing. And so she stretched her senses even further, pushing herself to the limits of her physical strain. She woven magic into it and when she opened her inner gaze, it seemed as if she was looking down on the land. Infinite fields, small villages, big cities, magnificent, wide forests stretched into the horizon. Fine, luminous lines of pure, white magic permeated the land. She hummed a spell, the light around her sank and tiny dots flared up everywhere. Some stronger or weaker. They all had a different presence and she knew these were the people she had to protect. These were the people she would protect from destruction. That is what she was born for. A smile plucked at her lips and then an unknown smell entered her nose. Confusion gripped her senses and as she turned in that direction she felt a pull. Her heart made a bounce, began to beat faster than it already had, and then she raced across fields, forests, cities, until her journey suddenly ended abruptly.

A mighty magic filled the air, stretched out towards her. Confused, she pulled her eyebrows together, floated closer, wanted to pursue it. It felt as if someone was calling for her. As if she came home. And without knowing why, tears came to her eyes. She heard a deep, rough voice that dug deep into her heart, her soul. Her breath faltered, her throat tied together and she swallowed slightly.

Lucyanna.

She opened her eyes and slammed the back of her head on hard stone. Her breathing was hectic, almost panicking, and she felt her body twitching, cramping. The coarse linen stuck to her body like a second skin and her hair stuck to her head. She blinked hectically as she tried to stand up, but didn't really make it. Her body protested painfully, her arms trembled with exhaust. Then she felt the grip of strong hands that helped her up. She swallowed slightly, felt how dry her throat was and breathed in trembling. Her vision was clouded and her eyes were burning. Tears ran down her cheeks. Only vaguely did she hear someone call her name and slowly her senses returned. She blinked hectically again and she took Erza who was kneeling before her on the floor. She was also the one who called her name.

"Lucy ... are you all right? Jesus, you scared us", her voice was still unclear and dull, but Lucy finally understood what Erza said. Or rather screamed at her. She forced a smile on her lips although every muscle in her body protested. A rough, unfriendly throat rang out and as Lucy raised her eyes to the side, her eyes met those of her teachers. Grandmaster Makarov and the high witch Porlyusica. Both were about 500 years old. With time Makarov had become smaller, his once blonde hair had turned white and apart from the wild, unruly hair on his sides, his skull was bald. He wore a white, floor-length robe and a coat lined with fur, which made clear his high standing in the witch community. Porlyusica, on the other hand, was still tall and slender. Age seemed to have done little harm to her beauty. Her long hair was still a strong pink and only a few wrinkles indicated her old age. She wore a long dark blue dress, its hems lined with elaborate protective runes. A black belt on her hip held several bags in place and the candlelight made a delicate gold chain shimmer in her hair. But while Makarov's gaze seemed worried, her master's ruby eyes were angry and cold.

"Child! How many times have we told you not to go beyond your physical limits? Your body is still too young! You are still too young", that the older witch was angry, one clearly noticed to her. Her voice was louder than usual, anger swelling in her eyes and magic wafting around her. Lucy swallowed and gritted her teeth. Feelings of guilt surged inside her and she lowered her gaze. She just wanted to get stronger! She had to be strong, had to train to increase her strength.

"Porly, you know how she is," Makarov turned and a dark growl rolled from the witch's lips. She snorted.

"She is only 8 years old! She has a few years left. It's not like she doesn't do this every day. And I also acknowledge her willingness to learn and her determination, but it is no good to anyone if she overtakes herself and dies because of it. Erza, Juvia, Levy. Bring this stubborn brat into her room and force her to eat and rest if necessary. No more training for today. Is that clear?", the voice of the pinquette was unyielding and demanded absolute obedience. Lucy knew that she would not tolerate any contradiction and a rule break would be out of the question. She knew that, even if she would have preferred to continue. But she knew her limits and probably she would not even be able to get on her feet alone and without help. Accordingly she would do the devil and contradict her teacher or train behind her back. No matter how restless she felt herself.

"Yes ma'am", said the girls in the choir, ready to follow the very clear order. Silence descended across the room.

"Lucyanna Leila from Heartfilia! Do you understand me?"

She raised her eyes and blinked again, then nodded and felt the exhaustion and tiredness spread through her. She swallowed slightly. She didn't want to anger her master. Because she was the only one she still had. The only person who came closest to a mother. Sadness surged up in her, but she pushed these feelings and the dark thoughts away from her and nodded.

"Yes, ma'am”, the young girl said dutifully and smiled. Her friends helped her on her feet, as ordered, and Porlyusica dismissed the girls with a wave of her hand. Together they wandered through endless corridors, illuminated by magical flames, burning in large stone bowls and providing just enough light to find their way. Erza had put her left arm over her shoulder and Juvia her right arm over her shoulder and Lucy felt how much they supported her. Her knees felt like pudding and the young witch knew that she couldn't have taken a step without her friends. Levy followed the three and kept casting worried looks at Lucy. She also knew why. She knew that everyone here was worried about her, but she just couldn't help herself. How could she not? She didn't want humanity to be at the mercy of a murderous god. Not if it was her job to stop it. Not if she had the abilities.

The steps of the girls on the stone floor and Lucy's wheezing breath were the only sound that filled the air. Although the way to their chamber wasn't particularly far, it seemed to take an eternity for them to arrive right there. Guilt spread through the narrow blonde as Erza and Juvia helped her onto the bed, smiling but slightly sweaty. She bit her lower lip and felt the tingling of tears in her eyes. Her lower lip began to tremble and Lucy pulled her shoulders up.

"I-i-i'm sorry" she brought up falteringly and the other three stared at her with big eyes. They hadn't expected that. Lucy sniffed quietly and then the first tears rolled down her cheeks. Her body began to tremble.

"I-i-i a-am s-s-such a ... a burden", her words were only half understandable by the sniffing and her insecurity let her stutter. Fear and shame filled her senses and she didn't even dare to look into the eyes of her friends. Then many arms snaked around her and by the swing she was thrown backwards on the bed. Blue and red hair were in her field of vision while her friends hugged her.

"Lu-chan, we love you anyway, you fool," Levy said with tears in her brown eyes smiling with a trembling lower lip. Erza and Juvia also had tears in their eyes and nodded eagerly. Lucy sniffed harder and really started to cry, but returned the hug, which turned into a group snuggle. The girls lay tightly embraced in the bed, which was actually much too small for that.

"Nat-nii", the tender voice of his sister reached his ears and he turned towards her, pulled up both eyebrows, while a little girl with dark blue hair stumbled towards him. She was just four years old and reached barely to his knees. She wore a light blue dress that reached down to her knees and was fastened around her neck with a gold chain. She was barefoot and the soft clapping of skin on cool rock echoed from the walls. A broad grin spread on his lips and the light of the torches shimmered on his canines.

"Wendy", he squatted down to be at eye level with her. She beamed at him and embraced him clumsily. A deep laugh rumbled through his chest as he put his arms around the narrow body of his little sister. He was a good 130 years older than Wendy, but that didn't bother either of them. His big brothers Zeref and Ignia were 200 and 350 years older than him. And if he wasn't completely wrong, then his father Igneel was about 870 and his mother Grandeeney about 800 years old. But he never thought much about numbers, so he did not know that with absolute certainty. Wendy was the youngest and still a hatchling. She was so sweet, so innocent and always seemed quite clumsy. And even Zeref and Ignia, who were both rather coarse and often rather grim, became gentle with Wendy. No one could knock off her big chocolate brown eyes. He detached himself from her again, grinned at her broadly and fluffed through her blue hair.

"And, how was your day today?

"Igni-nii and Ze-nii played with me," she said and beamed at him with big eyes. The grin on his lips grew wide. Probably they had trained magic with her and made it look like a game. Because he could hardly imagine a real game. He knew that his brothers wanted to educate her to become a strong dragon. His parents hadn't said anything about it yet, especially since they had done the same to him and Natsu hadn't really been harmed so far.

"It was more training", the deep voice of his brother Ignia penetrated his ears and Natsu raised his eyes, the grin on his lips didn't go away for a second. He nodded slightly, as he had already thought. Wendy's quiet yawning attracted his attention and he pulled her in, wrapped an arm around her and rose with her, sat her on his hip. The little girl instinctively held on to him and leaned against him, a soft purr rolling up her throat as his body heat enveloped her. Natsu stroked her narrow neck, gently massaging the muscles before turning his gaze back to his eldest brother. He was one head taller than himself, had wild blonde hair tamed back in light curls. The ash-blonde hair shimmered slightly in the flames. His hair tips, however, were of a deep red. As if someone had dipped his hair in blood. Like Natsu, he had tanned skin. His features were hard, clear-cut and angular. Blood red cool eyes lay over high cheekbones, framed by thick blonde eyelashes and isolated strands framed his face, reaching down to his chin. Ignia wore simple harem pants because of the weather, held by a wide red belt. In addition he had put on a fur, on which the family crest was imprinted. You could tell from his well-trained body that he trained a lot, that he was experienced in fighting. Countless black lines covered the hard muscles of his body, ritual symbols and signs of her clan.

"And how far are you?"

"She's not bad for her age, but she clearly needs a lot of Magic Enhancing Units," Ignia shrugged his shoulders slightly, "but she's much more eager to learn and capable than you ever were."

This last tip against Natsu was typical of Ignia. He was the oldest, but Natsu could almost be called Igneel's favourite son. At least that's how it usually came across. Even if Ignia was actually the heir. A soft rumble rolled Natsu's throat up and for a short moment his pupils turned into narrow slits and golden streaks flickered in the deep green soul mirrors. Hot rage crept up in him, his body getting hotter.

"You threatened to throw me into a volcano if I didn't learn to fly," he rumbled. Ignia was almost bored when he pulled up a blond eyebrow. Then his lips turned to a mean grin. It was as if the air was getting thicker, as if someone was charging it with electricity. Both brothers were tense and even Wendy felt the restlessness between them.

"What can I say? Pink hair doesn't fit into this family", the light of the torches shimmered on Ignia's longer fangs. He had a tendency to let his dragon out more often. Something that had only weakened in the last hundred years.

"My hair is salmon colored and they are like that because Mom has white hair and Dad has red hair," growled Natsu and black smoke fled from his nostrils, rising to the ceiling. Ignia wanted to say something in return, narrow arms snaked around the broad chest and stroked almost tenderly over the visible skin. It was as if someone would just let the thick air out between them. A quiet giggle danced through the air and then a narrow woman stepped out of the shade into the light of the torches. She was pale, almost corpse pale and two heads smaller than Ignia himself. She had long hair of pale pink color reaching down to her knees. She seemed tender and fragile next to him, and the delicate green fabric of the dress that enclosed her figure only reinforced the impression. Deep lines stretched across every visible part of her skin, leaving only her face free. It looked as if flames were licking over her skin. And that was exactly what it represented. She leaned against Ignia and smiled at him. Only the strength in her deep, red eyes clearly said that she was more than just a tender little woman.

"Be sweet, darling," she kissed his left pectoral muscle, then looked at Natsu.

"I'm sorry he's such a nasty guy. I'm already working on it," she giggled and a deep growl rolled over his brother's lips. Natsu laughed quietly and waved his left hand as he held Wendy with his right arm.

"Husch leave already. I don't want to bother you any more," he said and Miyuki wobbled her eyebrows with a grin. Ignias gaze became darker with every second that his mate didn't give him attention. He wrapped one arm around her waist and shouldered her without further ado, gave her a strong slap on the ass, turned around and then disappeared, following the long corridor. Miyuki laughed quietly and waved at Natsu. She seemed extremely relaxed for having to appease an annoyed, grumpy Ignia again. But so it was among mates. He would never intentionally hurt her and she knew that.

Natsu looked down at his little sister, who was clearly struggling not to fall asleep on his arm. Her eyelids hung at half-mast, her eyes almost closed, and she clung to the simple black linen shirt he was wearing. He set himself in motion and put his sister to bed. His footsteps reverberated from the high stone walls and they came on a wider corridor. On the left side, large windowless frames had been installed and the cool night air greeted them. Soft moonlight illuminated the hallway and put a silvery shimmer on the large stones and the rough wood of the doors. He opened one of them, stepped into the large room, walked straight up to a wide child's bed and gently bedded Wendy in the soft furs, covering her with another. She blinked tiredly and snuggled up. The quiet mazing of a cat reached his ears and Natsu lowered his gaze. A delicate white kitten grazed his legs. His lips turned to a wide grin and he lifted the tender creature up and put it on the furs so Carla could get to Wendy. Then he rose and smiled down at his sister, while her cat pushed herself under the furs and snuggled up without hesitation. He turned away, left his sister's room on quiet soles and stepped back into the moonlit hallway.

Suddenly he felt a touch of magic, of foreign magic. His body was tense and his eyes widened. A fine, sweet scent entered his nose and he felt his very own dragon magic coming out. His heartbeat speeded up, hammering wildly against his ribs. His gaze turned to the wide starry sky above him, his nostrils stretched wide and his throat tightened. He clasped the stone parapet, not even noticing how his fingers deformed into dragon claws and dug fine grooves into the rock. His eyes had transformed and he felt this unfamiliar magic approaching. It smelled airy, tender and pure. He could feel everything in him calling to welcome this magic. Mine. The dragon in him instinctively wanted to possess what approached him and Natsu agreed with his inner dragon.

"Lucyanna," he growled. A name he couldn't know, but instinctively he knew that was her name. And then, as if someone had broken a mirror, the magic had disappeared, vanishing as quickly as smoke in the wind. A deep rumble rolled up his throat and a juicy curse lay on his lips.

200 years later

"Lucy," Levy's panicked cry reached their ears as they stormed into the main hall. Lucy whirled around, her eyes wide open, her breathing hectic. She clasped an athame and fear surged inside her. Men invaded the sacred prayer hall. A malicious laughter echoed from the high walls. She stepped back a few steps. She was exhausted, had trained. She blinked violently as incense and sweat burned in her eyes, her breathing speeding up. She didn't know who these men were. They wore armor of fur and leather, had long wild hair and were armed to the teeth. Each equipped with a one-and-a-half, a one-handed and a long battle dagger. She sensed the magic that was coming from them and tried to weave protective spells, but she was simply too exhausted, she noticed it immediately. Her magic reared up, but she only made sparks.

Fear raged through her veins as a man with long, shaggy, blond hair approached. He wore less fur than most of them. His clothes were red and black and looked like a tunic. His right arm and chest were exposed and a crest stood out from his pale skin. Her eyes widened, flying to his. Magic swelled inside them, coloring them in a deep, glowing red and she raised the Athame trembling. Which elicited a gloating laugh from him. Black flames licked on his skin and fear laced Lucy's throat. She whirled around and ran off as fast as her wobbly legs could carry her. She knew exactly what he was. He belonged to the clan of the gods. A brutal bunch and she also knew why they were here. So far they had always avoided this temple, but in the last 200 years, it had happened more often that there had been attacks by gods on witches. And she was not ready to be made a slave. While she tried to escape from the hall in her gathered linen dress, her limbs hurt from exhaustion, her heart raced as if she were running a marathon.

And yet she was too slow. Everything seemed to work against her when she felt a big, coarse hand digging into her hair and pulling her back violently. Pain shot through her scalp, tears rose to her eyes.

"Well well, where are we going?", goose bumps spread on her skin at the sound of his voice and fear stretched out his poisonous claws to her heart and mind. She clasped his wrists to relieve the pain on her scalp. Her muscles were aching and trembling with every movement, tears burning in her eyes and clouding her vision. The smell of ashes, blood and burnt flesh rose to her nose. Nausea rose in her. She gave out an unwilling growl as he sniffed at her and tried to detach himself from him, tried to kick after him, but he held her firmly. And then she felt him wrap a strong arm around her waist, let go of her hair and he just threw her over his shoulder.

"I like you, it will be fun to break your will, witch," he growled and a mean laugh escaped his lips. Lucy wriggled in his grip and panic threatened to overwhelm her. She didn't want to be around him a second longer. And yet she couldn't get out of his firm grip. She hit his back, but more than a painful blow to her butt and rough laughter didn't bring it. Tears ran down her cheeks. She couldn't use her magic because she had been overdone. In general, however, Lucy was not someone who was physically very strong. She was a witch. Magic was her thing. He set himself in motion and some of the men followed him.

"Lucy," Levy's panic-stricken and painful voice reached her ears and she hectically searched for her best friend. Juvia and Erza were not here, were currently in another temple. Only Levy and four other witches had been here. The rough laughter of men penetrated her ears again, and she trembled and breathed as he carried her away through the corridors. She wanted to see Levy.

"Please, do nothing to her," she brought out and her voice trembled, wavered. Then he stopped and for a moment silence lay over the men. Her heart raced.

"Lord?

"For all I care, it can't hurt to have another slave," the blonde growled and two men nodded and started moving, disappeared back into the now desecrated prayer hall to fetch Levy. That was what Lucy hoped. She held her breath, her heart pounding almost painfully fast against her ribs, while she stared with weeping eyes wide open in the direction in which the men had disappeared. And then she heard the footsteps. She bit her lower lip as they carried a narrow witch. Her clothes were torn and she had scratches everywhere and her pale skin began to turn blue. Tears flowed down her cheeks and pain and anger spread into Lucy. They had hurt Levy. They would pay for that. Levy's brown eyes found hers and she saw the fear in them. Lucy gave her a trembling smile to encourage her.

"So, all this and happy? Good," growled the god, who carried her around like a sack of potatoes and they started to move again.

The hall was warm and the sweat of men, women and children, the smell of greasy meat, fresh bread, excrement and the smell of wine and mead almost overloaded his nose. Natsu slightly twisted his lips, pulled his brows together. Laughter and voices intertwined to a hum and the noise was almost too much for his sensitive dragon ears. The rhythmic music of the musicians, who played, lay over everything. The dull rumbling of the drums, the whistling of the bagpipes and the hurdy-gurdy. And this celebration almost annoyed him. But only almost. The atmosphere after a battle was always boisterous. So also this one here.

He let his gaze glide over the numerous men and women in leather, fur and metal, but nobody really attracted his attention. For him they were like a sea of warm bodies. Nothing more. Natsu followed his father, his brothers and cousins. They had all fought together, had defeated a mighty enemy and the smell of blood, ashes and death was still subliminal in the air. They searched for a suitable place and Natsu hoped that they would avoid the demons. He really didn't want to hear any stupid remarks from Gray today. They headed for a wide table that was almost completely free, a clear sign that it had been set free for the dragons. They all sat down and a high, full voice was heard.

"Ah, our beloved dragons. Welcome. Nice that you still came," Natsus looked at a beautiful blonde with short hair. Velvety golden skin, ash blonde wild curls, golden eyes. She had a dreamlike body, slender, female curves, full breasts. The armor she wore shimmered in the numerous candles of the hall, underlining her body. She smiled broadly and Natsu suppressed a yawn. His muscles were tense, tired and he knew he wouldn't stay long. In itself he was here only at the request of his father.

"Dimaria, good you have survived the battle", Igneel rose again, pulled the goddess briefly into a friendly embrace, which she replied. A malicious laughter penetrated Natsus' ears and a fine, pure scent entered his nose. His nostrils widened and his heart stopped for a moment. His gaze searched and found, stapling itself on a beautiful figure. Zancrow dragged a narrow little blonde in slave's clothes with him, his right hand firmly dug into her golden strands. Tears stood in the deep brown eyes. It was as if time stood still and he dared not to breathe. He didn't notice how he rose, didn't notice how a deep, warning rumble rolled up his throat and left his lips. His gaze was directed at this tender, feminine figure. Her velvety skin was scarred and bruised. A heavy gold collar had been put around her neck and her breasts almost poured out of the red top, which just as concealed the most important parts. Artful patterns of gold lined the dark fabric and she wore pluder trousers of transparent red fabric hemmed into a heavy gold border. Her wrists and ankles were also bound with heavy gold shackles.

His heartbeat speeded up, his pupils contracted into long narrow slits, and the gold of his dragon eyes stepped out, displacing the deep forest green. Zancrow laughed and as she tried to detach herself from him, he shook her and punched her in the face. The men around him laughed maliciously. Anger burned up in Natsu, scales stepped through his skin and his fingers deformed into long, deadly claws. The dragon pushed to the surface and it was as if boiling lava was burning through his veins. Magic rolled in waves from him through the room and dark, deep rage burned in his eyes.

"Mine", he rumbled in a deep, inhuman voice and set himself in motion.

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