Alright! First ever multi-chap fic from me! I'm super excited and ridiculously nervous about this because well, it's my first time doing something like this! I can't say i'll promise a consistent update schedule but i'll try to update every week! And if I can't i'll give you guys sneak peeks instead
This'll be quite a ride for you guys and me but I hope you'll stick around, so without any further ado let the ride begin!
Human- of or characteristic of people as opposed to God or animals or machines, especially in being susceptible to weaknesses; showing the better qualities of humankind, such as kindness.
"Mum, were all dragons bad?"
Her eyes widened, brimming with curiosity and the need for knowledge. They gleamed in the weak moonlight that slithered through drawn bedroom curtains. Her room was otherwise shadowed, which she enjoyed. Little as she be Lucy preferred it dark- there was just something about all the untouched toys and new dresses in her room that made her skin crawl. At least in the dark she couldn't spot them. Lucy wiggled up from under plush blankets, night gown bunching up as she crawled into her mother's lap.
She was desperate for an answer.
Layla hummed in amusement, smoothing her hands over Lucy's hair. "Why the sudden interest? Yesterday it was exceeds, before that the faefolk. Dragons weren't even in tonight's story Lucy."
Her curious gaze disappeared swiftly, dodging her mother's knowing one, wringing her little hands. She gnawed her bottom lip guiltily. Layla knew the answer.
"Did you take books from your father's study again?" Lucy's cheeks puffed out in silent response, her head shaking 'no' when Layla prodded her cheeks back to normal.
"You know you're not supposed to be in there." She gently scolded. "He'll lose his head if he ever finds out." She shushed her daughter as she began to protest sitting up in her lap with crossed arms. Her eyes betrayed mischievousness. "But you know I won't ever say a word. Now, tell me everything you read."
If Lucy's eyes gleamed before, then there wasn't a word powerful enough to match the light shining now.
She babbled, she babbled, she babbled. Her little hands waved wildly trying to paint pictures of her stolen wisdom that Layla already knew. And when a lap wasn't enough room to articulate Lucy rolled to the bed, flapping and waving some more while the stream of moonlight grew slimmer yet brighter.
A peal of laughter tore from Lucy, infectiously grabbing her mother who made no effort to hide her unbecoming snorts. Why should she? No one could hear her- save for the few ladies in waiting who knew not the meaning of rest- and night was her time, no heavy titles to weigh her shoulders down. At night, she was just a mother with no strings attached.
Layla rubbed away weak tears that'd trickled free and shuffled a bit as Lucy squirmed her way back into her lap. "Why do you always learn so much when I'm not looking?" Lucy beamed proudly. " 'Cause you keep looking in places I'm supposed to be, but I'm not there."
"Maybe so. Or perhaps I'm not looking as hard as before, but never mind me. Where in your readings did you find evil dragons? You didn't tell me of those just now."
"Well….they weren't really evil….." Lucy said, eyebrows pulling together in thought. "It didn't say they were evil but the books didn't have anything nice to say about them."
Layla quirked a brow. "Nice? How?" "It wasn't like other books where they talked about nice people or animals. I even found some books that said nice things about other species, even if it wasn't much. But for dragons-" Lucy heaved a breath too heavy for someone so young. "All it talked about was how they were beasts that people saved. And what dragons were good for what type of work and how to keep them under control and fed. I stole one of daddy's old diaries and there was stuff in there on dragon trading."
"Dragons could talk, couldn't they mum?" She shot quickly, taking her mother aback. "Well yes, they could. But over time they lost-" "And weren't they really strong?" Lucy cut off. "Why didn't they do something when people treated them so bad? Couldn't they do something about all that?" Her distress made her words quaver and Lucy glanced up, Layla's tight lips not something she quite understood.
"Dragons were," She paused, treading around the subject carefully. The crease in her forehead deepened. What her daughter desired was a history too grim for even her strong mind to take so young. She could only tell her so much now. The future she could learn the rest.
"They were strong, yes, and they used to talk. But they spent so much time in their situations that they lost who they were." Lucy tilted her head, confused. "I don't get it."
"Hmm, well to put it simply, think of dogs." Her mother explained, gesturing to a dog plush she had yet to name keeling over on a cushion. "They came from wolves. And when they started to interact with people they changed. Some got bigger, some became smaller but they all changed because of people. But dogs chose to stay with us over all those years, dragons-they didn't have a choice."
The curious light in Lucy's eyes dimmed and it hurt her to see. "So people made dragons their dogs?" She whispered, disturbed. "Yes, and some persons out there say we made them less than that."
"But why? Why hurt dragons so much?" "I don't know Lucy. Money maybe, glory, God even. Humans are strange creatures." Layla gathered up her daughter, settling her back under the blankets where she was supposed to be. Her little hands clutched her mother night dress, not wanting to go to bed. How could she sleep when now she had so much questions to ask?
But Layla silently pulled her fingers from the crushed silk. The sliver of moonlight, watery and uneven, drew a line between them.
"Mum." Lucy began, soft- shaky even. Her mouth half-hidden by the covers. "Did you ever meet a dragon?"
Layla stiffened, her fingers jolting away slightly as something Lucy didn't understand cross her mother's face. It made her seem older, frailer. "Mum, are you ok?" "I-yes. I'm alright. I'm a little tired, that's all." She regained some of her composure, through the tightness of her eyes and soft smile.
"I did. 10 years ago, on a plantation, she was the last dragon in captivity and passed not long after." "Could she…?"
"She couldn't speak. Or maybe she could and chose not to, I'm not sure. But she- she was treated badly. Her owner spoke so little of her. However I think that maybe, she found some sort of peace in the end. Despite everything that happened to her."
Her smile faded to a ghost of what it was, barely there and watery. But she kept it there for Lucy.
"Mum what about-" Layla shushed her with a finger to her lips. "It's getting late." She said softly. "You need rest for your lessons tomorrow. Hold your curiosity until then."
"And no buts," Layla continued before her daughter could protest yet again. "You and I both know you've been falling behind in your piano lessons. We can't have that now do we?"
Lucy didn't care about piano lessons! Her fingers weren't fast enough to reach the keys in time anyways, she had more questions! About what happened to the dragons! She'd searched through their library and her few stolen books and they gave her too little to work with. She wanted to know more!
But, Lucy held back when she got a good look at the weariness in her mother's eyes. She almost didn't recognize the woman looking back at her. Perhaps she could wait for answers another day.
"Alright mum. Good Night."
"Good night Lucy." Layla drifted over to the door, her nightgown swishing around her bare feet, pulling it open with a low creak. "I hope you find the good dragons in your dreams." With a click she was gone and Lucy was left with her thoughts.
Dragons…
She focused on the dog plush keeling over, its smile hidden. Instinctively Lucy pushed it to its feet to face her. Its brown eyes almost seemed to thank her for the help it never asked for.
Lucy wanted to know more about them.
She spat out the strands of hair that had fallen in her mouth during the night with disgust and rolled over, curling in on herself, burrowing further into her blanket. Shampoo could make it smell like a botanical garden in Crocus after a shimmering, summer shower but it couldn't improve the taste.
Grumbling Lucy rolled over from the weak sunlight forcing its way through the curtain, covering her face with Richard- her well-loved dog plush. The only thing she carried from what used to be her life. He had an eye missing, fresh patches bright against his old black fur and what used to be a long and immaculate tail was reduced to a little stump. But Richie was still smiling despite everything. And a smile so soft could easily lull her back to sleep.
Beep! Beep! Beeeeep!
Well so much for that.
Her hand sought out the alarm, slamming down on the sleep button to kill its incessant screaming. It gets to sleep when I can't, she thought pulling it closer to read the illuminated numbers, there's something ironic there. 5:30 on the dot, she missed the first alarm. And to think she only woke up because she almost choked on her hair.
Early rises, nothing she could do about it. That's what council work demanded, after 5 years Lucy should've been used to this by now. But there was something special about how that alarm dug its little beeps into her skull pulling her from the sweetest of sleeps.
Joke's on that stupid thing, today's Saturday and only 5 other people from her department occasionally arrive before 8. Lucy was always praised for her record, arriving early and staying the latest to get assignments done in advance so that's why today she's gonna take it easy.
One late day on a clean record wouldn't do her any harm. The council can wait on her after she finally snuck in some Lucy-time. They can suck it.
Untangling herself from the blanket that threatened to keep her there she shuffled to the bathroom for a hot soak, working out the kinks in her neck as she did. Those in her back weren't even worth the effort to try and get out, they'd just come back anyways.
Higher brain function kicked in later in the kitchen when she wrapped her lips around a mug of coffee, slow sips renewing her with caffeinated life on a simple chair snug in a fluffy bathrobe toe curlingly soft.
Couldn't afford to eat in the council whites. After food and the basic necessities Lucy swears that the special cleaning of her robes bleeds her dry every month to keep them in tip-top, pristine condition. And it didn't help that she worked in the archives amidst dust and ancient parchment. You'd think that the council would have some sense to change the uniforms, shake things up a little and maybe make her life easier but no. Working for the council then it's white for everyone whether you're in the office or out in the field.
The only noticeable difference were the colours of the cross on uniform shoulders to distinguish between sectors. In Lucy's case it dark green, but it's not like it helps in hiding the dirt. So no thank you, she'd rather not eat in those robes and cry at the end of the month when the price gets hiked up on her. Only a fool takes that kind of risk.
Like Gray.
Captain Fullbuster, Lucy mentally corrected. Nudist extraordinaire. Not only does he ditch his far more expensive black cross robes to the dirt often (often enough for people to joke that to be a true council member is to see him naked at least once) but when he drops the cool attitude and pigs out like there's no tomorrow in his uniform, they never get messed up. Not even a speck of dirt. She seethes with rage every time he loses his pants.
Screw him to be honest.
Lucy glanced at the little clock silently ticking away on the counter. 7:15 When did she last get this much Lucy time? Best not think too hard on that, else the stress might creep its way back from that little corner in her mind where she shoved it. Duty calls however, with her senses at peak sharpness it was high time Lucy left and got to work. She has big things doing.
Relatively quick she went through her little morning ritual, dressed in record time to assess herself before stepping out the door.
Hair up in work approved ponytail, uniform's government standard white, boots polished with sweat and tears and heavy leather gloves, standard issue for archivists such as herself. Who knew the government was such a stickler for the dress code.
Of course she has a few extras, like the whip coiled up and attached to her belt. Every council member is to have a weapon after all. Though the army exists separately everyone had to go through the same basic combat training so if necessary, they could bulk it up in times of crisis. Thankfully nothing of the sort has transpired.
Her keys rested opposite the whip, always jangling happily despite the mood and humming softly with magic that the council tended to shove on the front lines to uphold their laws. Lucy found herself in the mirror, broke her drill sergeant's heart when she outright refused to become a captain.
Her lips quirk up at the memory, vaguely taking note of her reflection's eyes. What did mum always say? That her eyes were too old for someone so young? Never understood what that meant but now Lucy could see a little of it, in the bags forming under her eyes. She used to chase them away until a few months back. Now she lets the world see how tired she is.
Well her world consists of really 3, maybe 4 places tops if she counts the market, but she micromanages. Someone's bound to see at work or otherwise.
Lucy remembers the first time she sees the high council building, triple spires tipped gold competing to scrape the sky's edge, stretching over acres of lush grounds that put the estate she grew up to shame. Her awe was barely concealed despite what she knew of the place already, and it couldn't be helped.
Now as Lucy walks through its halls, the heavy tramp of her boots bouncing off the pristine ceiling, she rarely ever bats an eye at the architecture. Except of course when she has to traverse the endless staircases around the compound.
Maybe finally having some evidence to go with the little knowledge she had made it lose its lustre. Or perhaps bearing witness to surrounding city of Era's descent into squalor from the military displacing people to the outskirts in their need expand.
Lucy descends familiar cramped stair flights, the dank air swirling in her lungs to reach the archives' 3rd sub-level to get her day properly started. Clocking in at just a few minutes past 8 to revel in silence.
Guess she was right, no one else showed up this early. Well at least no one would get in her way. Some of her co-workers were nice but she'd rather they weren't there sometimes when she was trying to get something done. She just has more on her plate to deal with is all, what with the council adding to her workload for good noodle efforts rather than promoting Lucy to the 4th sub level, like she wants.
Sub-level 1 has data entries and logs on all council members, the army's weapon stock, new patents, funding-yada, yada, yada. Boring stuff really. And level 2's all about trade, economics and civil matters (though why they had that when they never dealt with civil matters…civilly, is a mystery).
#3 is judicial. Constant filing through papers ensuring that the written law follows as was said in parliament's most recent meeting and throwing out those unable to keep up with the times. It's simple work in theory but the council keeps running through new law reforms faster than she can keep up.
But level 4, that's where she wants to be. No, that's where she needs to be.
Mythical beast captures and enslavement, inhumane treatment, trades after the slave trade abolition. It had all the council's dirty secrets locked up in the dark with only a select few able to access it at a time, knowing the code to get through its runes.
She scoffed, eyeing the list of tasks she'd scribbled the day before on her table. Like that's gonna stop Lucy. She didn't work her way through the levels to be impeded so easily. That information is going to be hers no matter the obstacle.
Flitting back and forth, Lucy lost herself amidst the shelves stretching from ceiling to floor, their shelves overflowing with parchment- some brittle and some new like the laws written on them. They poked out, tickling her face as she drifted by, brushing at strands of loose hair, coating her gloves in fine layers of dust each time she pulled one free from its confines.
They were separated, tucked at different spots on her arm for what they need. One set needs revision and their new sub-laws penned in. The others, to be shredded then burned to follow protocol.
Lucy dropped the burn pile up front with a little note scribbled on top. Someone else can chuck it in the incinerator. Although she does enjoy the occasional blaze to kill her frustrations someone else will have to do it, or she'll do it another day if they ignore it.
Slipping out the door her old notepad and pen were quickly taken up in hand to doodle, add another plot point to her ever-growing list of stories she won't have time to write and to -occasionally- jot down a few important things that might catch her eye. Other people spend their breaks outside in fresh air, she goes further underground.
A co-worker finally appears as she goes, their eyebrows raised slightly at the sight of her. Seriously they should be used to her doing this by now. Lucy sent them in with a friendly smile and a curt wave, or maybe they're surprised at seeing her take a break so early when the sun is still shining up in the sky. She blinked, now there's a thought.
From dust to the dank her nose itched irritably with the ghost of a sneeze as she heads to the next landing just a single flight up from level 4, just within her sights as she leans on the railing, brushing it off before propping herself up on it.
Heavy steel doors stood proud below Lucy sealed tightly by bulky chains that wound themselves through the handles. There was an air to it, something that Lucy couldn't quite describe where such simple defenses made her feel uncomfortable even from such a distance. They were magic-cancelling, most likely, with an aftershock of sticky binding spells to keep snoopers rooted on the spot for authorities to swoop them away to prison, or interrogation. Whichever comes first really.
But before even touching that was the wall of intricate red runes, boxing in the entrance from all sides. Constantly changing and shifting, no two lines stayed the same and the overall pattern shifted daily which made it a damn near impossible for anyone to copy.
Lucy flipped open her notepad and immediately started scratching away the current pattern, gnawing her lip in concentration. Her eyes squinted at the dim red glow, making a particular rune difficult to copy. With a huff she quickly erased her mistake and fixed it.
It wasn't impossible per se, but it was a pain in the ass to do despite her blessings of photographic memory and otherworldly determination. So far the runes have cycled through roughly 68 different patterns in the few months she started this and this one right here's number 57. It's good progress though she'd rather be at 68 already.
At least during those months she'd learned something important. While it wasn't unusual to see the billowing robes of the high councillors as they descended the stairs sometimes their assistants would whisk past in their stead.
Which meant no type of body link magic involved. That's a bit off her mind for sure.
A tiny bit but a bit nonetheless.
An unusual rune popped up. It looked a bit like an overlong 'Q', or maybe it was more like an overlapping 'OP'? She scribbled down both options just in case, circling them to remind herself.
Behind Lucy, heavy stomps grew louder as they drew closer. She grumbled to herself, seriously? Couldn't this go smoothly for once? She skipped a few pages back to a fantasy idea partially penned down, something about a siren mistakenly drowning her lover in desperation to be with them.
"At least there wasn't much left. I can copy the few from memory, probably." She thought, busying herself with writing when the steps halted behind her. The person tutted and Lucy had to stop herself from cringing as she turned to meet a familiar icy gaze.
"Ms. Heartfilia."
"Invel." She answered. Asshole.
Of all the people she to find her, why him? He was like the prim, perfect little evil henchman she used to read about who sacrificed his emotions for order and a clipboard that had everything happening and soon to happen. He was always floating around the compound, overseeing everything and ticking off things from his clipboard with that frown embedded on his face. He's as busy as anyone should be working closely with the higher ups, perhaps more, yet he always found that little extra time to keep an annoyingly close eye on her.
"Your co-worker informed me that I might find you down here." His tone was clipped and his back ridiculously straight like there was a broomstick hidden in his creaseless robes. Or a stick up his ass.
"You were informed correct. Is there something I can help you with?"
He eyed her coldly behind impeccably clean glasses before dropping his gaze to his ever-handy clipboard, reading off it in monotone. "According to what I have here you are supposed to be organizing the new laws with regards to the Lands Act and the education reform. And yet here you are, doing what if I may ask?"
"Just catching up on my writings since I've already finished my tasks." Lucy replied coolly. "You're welcome to read through. I've hit a wall with it."
Invel's face remained impassive yet an eyebrow raised incredulously, a tad suspicious. "Down here?" "The calm makes it easier to think. Outside there's almost always the echo of a drill sergeant coming from somewhere."
She couldn't help the smile that twitched at the corner of her lips. "I can't stop the military for doing something I don't want now, can I?" Her pen tapped aimlessly on the railing, a light tinny sound jumping through the air.
He sniffed, she'd be lying if she didn't feel a slight lick of pride as a bit of frost formed on his lens, clouding his eyes. Someone's a little miffed.
Invel pulled them from his face, eyes still very much level with hers and an eyebrow barely twitching as he fished a cloth from his pocket to wipe them clean. He cleaned them slowly, mechanical and methodical, confirming her suspicions that this was an activity he probably did more often that necessary. Without even so much as a blink he carefully slipped them back on, pushing them up by the bridge with a gloved finger. His glasses shone with the runes' soft light, turning his pale eyes red.
"Well Ms. Heartfilia you should find that the drill sergeants are merely getting their jobs done, much unlike yourself who seems to have more free time on her hands than necessary." He said, flipping through the papers on his board to find some task to assign her to. Lucy rolled her eyes.
"I have already left the new laws pertaining to the agricultural sector's mandatory contributions to the military on your desk. However, since it seems as though you might finish that quickly I am also assigning you the Care of Magical Creatures Act as well."
"What?! That act alone has over 40 new sub-laws in it, from just this month alone!" she cried in disbelief.
"Then I trust you get started right away." He turned away and began making his way back up the stairs.
"Am I at least getting overtime for this?" Lucy joked trying to ease her own anger and the urge to break his clipboard over his face. Another time but not now.
"Of course not." He snapped expectedly. "You are still working within the council's hours and given your track record you seem to have no problem working extra hours without expected pay. So good day to you, Ms. Heartfilia." He vanished up the flight, steps fading away until all was silent again.
She blew out a frustrated hiss, flopping back onto the rail. God she hated that guy.
"And Ms. Heartfilia!" Lucy nearly jumped out of her skin at Invel's voice floating down at her. She glanced upwards at him peering down with a rare smirk, possibly amused at her hand clutching her chest.
"If I find you on this level again you will face severe ramifications, understand? So you best take your leave immediately." "Yes sir." She muttered. He disappeared, and she waited a few seconds. Yup, he was really gone now.
All that extra work, the one time when things seem to be going not too bad he comes along to shove her face first in it. Lucy groaned at the thought of having her head stuck in those papers for what's bound to be hours. The day she leaves this place isn't coming soon enough.
She steps towards the stairs to begin her ascent, casting a longing look at the runes cycling through a new pattern. Soon, she thought, soon I'll have them all copied. Lucy grips the rail tightly.
But for now, she just has to be a little more patient. The council will fall, just not today, or tomorrow. But it will.
For now, she just has to head back to the guild with the new intel.
Well, after work that is.
And there's chapter 1!
Reviews are obviously welcome even if it's just keysmash. Hopefully I'll see you guys next week!