So this is my small little attempt at NaNoWriMo...I don't expect to actually write the full length novel or anything but I would like to do a little something! B&M is still being rewritten and revised, as best I can with the craziness that is school and my NaNoWriMo story (this little hell) taking up my every waking thought). I hope you guys enjoy it!
Chapter 1
{"Real magic can never be made by offering someone else's liver. You must tear out your own, and not expect to get it back."}
~Peter S. Beagle, The Last Unicorn
The smell of rosemary tickled her nose as she washed her hands, humming a quiet tune to herself. The soft golden afternoon light lit her small workshop and she ran a fond finger over her favorite amber amulet before drying her hands. Still humming, she flipped the page in her spellbook where it rested on her wooden work table, taking care not to rip the thin paper, running her index finger over the diagram on the page. Muttering the ingredients aloud, she bustled about the room, picking leaves from their pots, the tinkling of glass filling the air as she chose a couple of small glass bottles filled with thick liquid as well. She resumed her song as she began to grind the herbs together, a new scent filling the air, something clean and sharp. Adding a few drops of liquid, she mixed until it became a thick, pale green paste. Carefully, she scraped it from her small bowl and placed it in a small plastic container, sealing it tight with a few whispered words. She grabbed her scribing pen and painstakingly slowly etched two runes into the lid, one for good luck and another to speed recovery. Her client was buying the paste for her small son who had gotten into a nasty scrape with a bewitched poison ivy hedge. Kids usually healed faster than adults but Lucy knew personally how awful it was to suffer from something like poison ivy for more than a few days. Especially a magical one.
She glanced at the time, which read three in the afternoon, and rinsed her hands off quickly. She reached upwards to stretch her arms out, feeling slightly lightheaded from the energy she'd expended. Not many witches would have sang good intentions into something so small but the little boy had been upset about not being able to play outside for a while. She wanted to get him back to his normal playing as soon as possible. Sighing, she grabbed the lunchbox on her desk and glanced through the door to the front of her store. She had a standing lunch appointment at this time and her friend was never late. The bell at her door chimed cheerily, right on time, and she walked toward the front counter, smiling at the sight of her friend.
"Erza," she greeted. The red-haired woman gave a smile in return, long hair pulled back into a bun. She wasn't wearing her usual work apron, dressed instead in simple jeans and a t shirt, body leaned against Lucy's counter. She held a small box in her hands, decorated in pink hearts, and Lucy grinned.
"Practicing that baking magic again?" Lucy asked, reaching forward eagerly for the box. She handed Erza a sandwich from her lunchbox, neatly cut in two, and gave her a small salad as well. Erza winced, opening the plastic container and picking up a halve of the sandwich as she glanced at the box.
"My oven is none too happy with me but this turned out alright," she answered sheepishly as she surrendered the box to her blond friend. Lucy laughed. Erza had become notorious for burning most everything she attempted to cook, something her husband had wearily accepted long ago. But so far, she'd had decent luck with baking, probably owing to her own obsession with pastries.
The cake looked delicious, decorated in strawberries and white frosting. Lucy stuck a piece in her mouth eagerly, not bothering with a fork, and nearly moaned when it practically melted in her mouth.
"Erza, this is amazing," she said in a hushed, awed voice. "I think you're finally getting the hang of this thing."
The look of utter relief and pride on her friend's face was nearly comical if it wasn't so heartwarming. Erza was someone who put her all into everything she did.
"Well my visit is not solely to ascertain the quality of my cake, or to eat your excellent food," Erza said after Lucy had swallowed a few more pieces. She glanced up, interested, wiping her mouth primly on a napkin. It was rare that Erza came to her on business, considering their own magics rarely intersected in a way that necessitated them working together on a single client. And their lunch dates were usually meant to be for catching up and relaxing together. But her friend looked somber so Lucy straightened and turned her full attention to her.
"I have a friend with a very strange dark energy attached to him," Erza began. She reached for the salad bowl, done with the sandwich, and eyed Lucy carefully.
"A hex?" Lucy interrupted, eyes wide. Erza shook her head.
"We're not sure what it is, truthfully," she admitted. "But it's affecting his magic and making his work difficult and temperamental. He's an elemental witch so you know how dangerous losing control can get for them."
Lucy hummed agreement, news stories of fires that burned for days and people drowned in their homes flashing before her eyes. Elemental witches had quick magic and quicker tempers. Children who showed signs of elemental magic when they were young were often placed under supervision and put through a series of exercises every day to teach them better control of their magic.
"You want me to take a look?" she concluded. Erza nodded.
"Are you able to? It's asking a lot but you're the best there is," Erza said.
Lucy huffed. "Really, Erza, you don't even have to ask. You know I clear my schedule for consultations like this. It sounds serious if you're concerned." She reached under the counter and pulled out a thick book, flipping it open and running a finger down the columns filled with neat handwriting.
"Have him come in tomorrow morning, at ten, and tell him not to use his magic until I see him. If it's not a hex, chances are it's something more serious and if he's an elemental he'll have to take extra precautions."
Lucy was under no illusions of modesty when it came to her magic; it was valuable and she was, indeed, the best in town. Purification witches like her were hard to come by, trained ones especially, and she charged fair prices for her work. She had a 100% satisfaction rate, something she took pride in, and witches across the country often called for consults when they were stuck. She was nearly always booked solid but the appointment she was bumping tomorrow was for a simple energy cleansing, something that took her five minutes. The client was a regular of hers and would be more than understanding. If anyone was going to look at something as strange as this energy Erza was talking about, it should be her.
"Thank you, Lucy," Erza said, pushing off the counter and setting the salad bowl down. "I have to get back to the shop now, I'll let him know."
"Send Jellal my love," she called after her. "And remind him to refresh that pack under his pillow!"
Erza waved and left, letting the door fall shut behind her. Lucy glanced around her shop, taking in her plants for a moment before frowning. She'd forgotten to water and trim their leaves.
"Plue," she called. A few moments later, the white wolf-dog trotted in, blinking sleep from his dark intelligent eyes. He sat and stared at her, tongue lolling. She grinned, scratching the soft fur behind his ear, and he whined a little bit, pressing up against her hand. He'd been her familiar since she was a little girl and he was just a pup. No one was really sure what a wolf-dog pup like him had been doing at the doorstep of her father's mansion but a witch's familiar often came to them in strange ways. It was old magic, older than time, and witches had long ago stopped questioning it. Besides, eight-year-old Lucy had been ecstatic about having a puppy and her father didn't have it in him to disapprove while her mother was sick.
Now, he was huge, head coming up to her waist, and she knew he could easily take down a full-grown man without the aid of spells. But he was gentle with her, rubbing his head more insistently against her hand as her pets slowed.
Laughing, she bent and pressed a firm kiss to his head.
"I need a favor, I've forgotten the mail this week," she told him and he huffed as he rose to his feet. He was gone quickly, paws quiet against the wood floor. He always moved like a ghost, silently and smooth, scaring the living lights out of her on numerous occasions.
She got to work watering her plants, refreshing a couple of fertility spells here and there and trimming a few unruly leaves. It was a slow day which meant there were no interruptions as she cleaned. When she had finished with her plants, she dusted the rest of the store, eyeing the clock just as Plue returned, a bundle of envelopes clamped gently in his mouth. Giving him a treat, she retreated to her little workshop in the back to sort through her mail, most of which was bills and a couple newsletters.
One envelope was different, pale blue and made of smooth, expensive paper. Stuck between a sigh and a smile, she opened it carefully, pulling out a letter and some money bills.
Lucy,
The moon was full and beautiful tonight. It made me think of you and your mother; you both always loved the night sky. I hope your shop is doing well, I always hear such good things about it, even here. Buy yourself something pretty with this.
Love,
Father
His letters were always short but earnest, genuine. And although he had lost his wealth and influence, he had never quite broken the habit of wanting to buy her pretty things. Pretty things for his pretty princess he had used to say.
Lucy gazed at the letter for a while, a fond smile covering her lips. She wasn't sure why her father insisted on writing letters even while they texted occasionally. He was so old fashioned in some ways. She eyed the bills thoughtfully, putting them in her wallet. Maybe she'd use the money to buy a new amulet; Levy had told her the new shop near her library had pretty stones and jewelry.
She put the mail in her bag and decided to close up early. Her house needed some cleaning and she could see if Levy needed some food brought to her. She tended to go rather long periods of time without eating or sleeping when she was researching something and Lucy hadn't heard from her all day.
Calling Plue, she locked up, whispering the necessary words and stroking the wood frame of her shop lovingly before she left, walking down the street and enjoying the light breeze as it played with her hair. She had bought the shop after months of saving and working out of her apartment. It had been blessed and she had placed numerous careful spells on it to keep it maintained and safe from weather and burglary. She remembered when she had finally saved up enough to have the sign painted and the day it went up. Fae Dust it read proudly in pale green letters. Books and herbs crowded the front window, giving it an air of authenticity as Levy had put it.
She waved hello to a few other shop owners, stopping by the grocery store to pick up a few things. Her small cottage was only a ten-minute walk away. Plue pushed open the short iron gate for her and she hummed her thanks, waving a hand to unlock her front door. She got right to cooking, deciding her cleaning could wait until after she had fed her friend and lectured her on taking care of herself.
An hour later she was at the library, bag in hand, waving a greeting to the old man at the desk.
"Levy?" he asked, peering at her knowingly. She rolled her eyes, shifting her weight to her left foot.
"How deep is she?" she asked.
"I've hidden the coffee machine for fear of her imminent heart attack," Makarov intoned solemnly and Lucy sighed.
"I'll shove a sleeping potion down her throat if I have to," she growled and Makarov snorted.
"Good luck with that," he muttered.
She flounced off to the stairs, climbing up three flights and wading her way past towers of books on the floor until she found the room she was looking for. It was Levy's favorite, the most hidden one in the building which meant she would be undisturbed. The only downside was that getting to it felt like going on a hike.
Without bothering to knock, Lucy burst in, not surprised to see no less than three books floating in front of her friend, all of their pages flipping impossibly fast while Levy's bespectacled brown eyes scanned their pages.
At least two hundred other books lay scattered about, some open, others simply stacked up until they nearly reached the top of the door, looking like a single breath would knock them over.
"Levy," Lucy called. Her blue haired friend didn't blink, raising a single finger.
"One moment."
Lucy picked her way across the room to the table Levy was sat at, carefully moving books to make room for their food. Five minutes later Lucy heard the books thud close and Levy heave a huge sigh. She glanced up from the game she was playing on her phone, watching with some amusement as Levy rubbed her temples vigorously.
"What time is it?" Levy mumbled, voice muffled as she pressed her forehead to the table.
"Around 5:30," Lucy said.
Levy's head shot up.
"Is it Tuesday?" she demanded.
"Wednesday."
"Shit."
Her wild blue hair was sticking up in odd places and her big brown eyes, bigger behind her bewitched glasses, were unfocused and hazy.
"Eat," Lucy commanded simply and before Levy could protest, she shoved a forkful of pasta in her mouth. "Food, carbs, very good for you. After this, you're going home, taking a shower, and going the hell to bed."
Levy mumbled something around her fork halfheartedly, giving Lucy a small glare.
"You smell," Lucy said shortly and that put an end to the argument.
They ate peacefully for a while before Lucy began asking about the project. Then, Levy was talking a mile a minute, describing in minute detail the exact herb she had been writing and reading about. Lucy listened carefully, since Levy's research often ended up being useful for her own work, and Levy was the most brilliant witch she knew.
"You see, mixing bay leaves with the essence of basically anything enhances the effects of that oil. But the problem is the act of mixing itself and it's something no one has been able to get quite right. But I was looking at this old poultice book and..."
Levy could go on for hours but after about twenty minutes Lucy cut her off and told her it was time to go home. After whining and moaning for another five, Levy finally agreed and packed her stuff up, shuffling out of the cave like a bear that had just woken up from hibernation.
Makarov shot Lucy a grateful look and she smiled cheerily in response. Levy's apartment building was on the way to Lucy's so she walked her home before heading to her own house. It was getting darker outside and colder. Winter was fast approaching if the dead leaves on the sidewalk were any indication and Lucy made a mental reminder to refresh the weather spells over her own garden. She saved a lot of money by growing her own roots and herbs and she didn't want it ruined when the rainy season started.
She got to work tidying up her little cottage, starting up the fire so Plue could lay down and enjoy the warmth. As it warmed her house up, she dusted off her books, stroking their spines lovingly as she did so. Many of her books had been gifts from her mother, or inherited after her death. She took good care of them.
A couple hours later, after cleaning her entire house, she settled down in the chair by the fire with some tea, flipping through a rare curses and hexes book. She scribbled some notes down in a notebook, frowning at the various complications in certain hexes and curses. Many of them were almost impossibly intricate, which meant the counterspells or potions would also be complicated. And expensive. She would probably have to do some studying for this new client; his affliction didn't sound familiar or even very similar to her usual clientele. She wondered if she would have to ask Levy for a favor as well. Perhaps Makarov…
Her thoughts wandered and before she knew it, she was drifting off into sleep, eyes trained on the fire that flickered as it died, casting a strange glow around her room. She was half asleep so she must have imagined the small breeze in her room. Soon, her eyes fell shut and she slept.
Lucy rolled her neck exasperatedly, berating herself for falling asleep in her armchair. Her neck always hurt when she did that. Taking another sip of her tea, she eyed her notes from the night before, humming lightly to herself as she went over the diagnostic spells she'd be using that day. Her diagnostic spells were similar to some that medical witches used when diagnosing their patients, but hers were more on the spiritual side. Instead of seeing into a person's body, she looked into their aura, their very soul. It was an intimate process, one that required a certain degree of trust she hoped Erza had been able to instill in her mysterious client. She'd already prepared everything for Erza's friend. Now, she waited.
At almost ten exactly her bell chimed and her head shot up, a smile on her face already.
"Welcome," she greeted warmly, straightening from where she was leaning on her front counter. She reached down to fix her green apron, frowning suddenly at a change in the air. She blinked at the flicker of light, despite the fact it was broad daylight. The room had dimmed for just a brief moment and she squinted for a second, trying to discern the cause. She glanced at the man who had entered, unable to sense anything surrounding him to explain the strange light change, or to even suggest the energy Erza was worried about.
Her client was a man her age, a handsome one she noted faintly. Messy pink hair fell in waves and curls around his head and sharp green eyes took her in almost warily, his presence uneasy. Sensing his discomfort, and putting her own momentary confusion out of her mind, she held out her hand, still smiling.
"I'm Lucy," she introduced herself. "I'll be taking a look at you today."
The man relaxed somewhat, allowing a small smile to cross his own features. The very tips of white pointed fangs poked out from beneath his lips and she wondered exactly what magical blood resided in his veins. Five seconds in and this was proving to be very interesting.
"Natsu," he answered, taking her hand and giving it a firm shake. His skin was warm against her own, smooth and tanned.
"I'm the poor sucker you're going to fix," he grinned, completely relaxed at last. The expression spread across his face, giving his eyes a mischievous glint, and she laughed.
"Damn right."