Summary
In this world, there were human men and women, building cities great and strong, then tearing them down on their own. There are the humble farmers and scheming thieves, the loyal guards and the corrupt scammers. And, in one good town, there are the proud hunters, two most prominent of which went missing 3 years ago. Their names were Jet and Droy. What the people in Magnolia didn't know was that they had become the sinister trio Shadowgear, who protected the forest with one small and intelligent stray Fae. These two men knew very well that they, humans, didn't fare well creatures of the other race, but Levy was different; pure and kind. They lived happily in the woods until an ominous storm approached…that same night they received a visit of dragon of steel, and it dealt damages and horrors unthinkable… a living nightmare. Dragons were supposed to be extinct, killed by the Fae.
But, could Levy come to love the shape-shifting man who hurt her friends and their homes and families? Could she come to link her life to his? And could that iron beast open up his own long gated heart? In a matter of days, the vengeful dragons, deceitful Fae and conniving humans all begin to wage a war of love and hate…perhaps all because of them.
GaLe, NaLu, Laires, Lyvia, RoWen, Zancredy, Jerza, and more.
Chapter One: Rain at Midnight
Two shadowed figures bolted through the dark forest, one far faster than the other, but wove through brambles as if to burn time for the sake of his slower partner. There was a crack of lightning, and in that split second illumination, the face of a thick-built black haired man was revealed—the slower partner. He had to be not even an adult, but carried an aura of one. Dark eyes framed by skin creased through concentration held many scars, hunting scars, much like the 'scar' of the bit of one earlobe missing; the right one, to be exact. The other young man was around the same age, but much leaner, with bright blonde hair lashed into a ponytail that looked like it had exploded from the inside out. A piercing gaze of his scanned each nook and cranny in the ground as he dashed, no pebble or vine overlooked, not betraying his more calculated and clever blue eyes.
A rumble of thunder made the ground shake viciously, sparing not many worn trees. In a blistering crack, one old oak came crashing down after its stubborn fight with the wind, making yet another rumble. A cascade of branches collided with the pair not soon after, coming with no small shock, and they stumbled to the ground, both winded and utterly exhausted. The garden of cuts and sores which decorated their bodies had come back, assaulting each inch of the nerve with sour pain they'd previously shoved carelessly aside. The blonde one let out a ragged breath and collapsed on the sodden earth, letting rain shower his already slickened face.
"We aren't getting anywhere," he bitterly stated at last. A ghost of a grimace haunted his lips, but he was too tired for even that much.
"At this rate, we would have to hold out before getting to Magnolia, Jet," replied the stockier one. "Especially without Talorus."
Talorus was their 'mighty' steed, their hunting stallion, before he'd gotten so easily spooked by the lightening and ran off. Jet cursed the fact that they'd chosen the most cowardly horse of the whole stable, despite his tough exterior. All the other ones were more obedient, too—he made a strong mental note to buy a better one. Maybe his father's mare, even, would be more efficient.
"That's if we can hold out, Droy." Another flash of lightening. In the sky there was something not unlike the shadow of some large bird, abnormally large, but it was gone so fast and so surreal that he assumed it had to have been something else.
Apparently his best friend and hunting pal thought the same, for he paid it no heed. Still, though, something ticked at the back of his beaten mind.
"You're saying that the mighty duo of Magnolia can be defeated by a bad weather pattern?"
Jet gave a snort, pulling himself painstakingly to sore legs, and half-heartedly stumbling over the ground. One hand was stretched out blindly to grip branches, the other near his midsection just in case. Already he'd received a long slash along his shoulder from a rock, and man, it hurt like hell. Had he not been fast enough to shift to the left, his head would have smashed on full throttle.
That would be more than a quick shrug off.
"Weather is unpredictable. They say the King's first son got caught up in a storm last month and didn't come back."
"What? When did you hear that?"
"I have my ways," he grinned knowingly. "You'd be surprised. But, point is, all the men in the region would jump at our positions. We wouldn't be the mighty duo any more if that were to happen."
Droy was about to shoot something back, probably some smart ass response, when Jet shoved him out of the way, just in time for the trunk of something ancient to collapse where he once stood. The huge thing came down like a stone, taking with it lobs of mineral-stuffed soil at the roots. Now their only means of a smoother path was abruptly cut off; it would be more than risky to go through with all that rubbish everywhere.
Jet growled something under his breath. "We have to hurry, this place isn't safe."
"No kidding," Droy muttered in reply.
They were getting more off set by the second, and could not shake off the feeling that they were being watched. Jet had scanned the shadows—which were everywhere—and the stars—which had barely shown—but found no trace of such spectators. Yet, a hard stare bore into the back of his neck like a stoke.
"Come on."
He took a few steps, trying not to slip on the wetness as he maneuvered through the wreck, before realizing that no one was following. He turned around to see him keeled and crouched over something strange…
"Jet!"
Jet bent down, keen on seeing what his friend was so hyped up about. One of his hands was embedded in the wet dirt, the other near his nose. He gave a sniff, and jerked back in repulsion upon the discovery that it reeked of copper. Something was off about it, though, but the specificity couldn't reach his mind.
"That's blood. And? It's probably mine or yours."
Droy shook his head.
"This isn't human blood. It's not animal blood, either—it's thick and dark, too dark, even in this shaded night."
A flash. Blurs of black-purple-crimson smudged across the ground, and all over his arms.
They shared disturbed glances. They both knew what creatures held blood of such an ominous color. Question was what they were to do now—neither wanted to get involved with what they were discovering, but someone was nearby, someone who may be able to help them.
"No way, we'd only end up in deeper shit," retorted Jet. "This is no good. No good, hear me?"
Droy gave him a long, sharp stare. "Tell me how to escape this, then. There had never been a storm powerful as this—the great forest is falling apart, and I don't want to get caught underneath the destruction. They know these parts. They can keep us safe."
"That's to say that they are even willing."
He ignored him and went on.
"You said yourself that the young Prince of Fiore fell victim. Prince Zancrow was never one to fall weak; natural phenomenon is sometimes unquestionably powerful.
Now who's acting like the wise guy, Jet thought. Exasperated, he gave into the black haired hunter's stupid logic.
"And once it fails, remind me to kill you in hell."
They sneered inwardly, then set to work; work being following the splashes of blood like little kids on treasure hunts. It seemed to be all over the place, actually, so much that they began to wonder whether or not this guys will even be alive to help them. All they could hope was that things worked out. After at last a half hour of dodging falling crap and climbing over even more crap, they came upon a much, much larger wreck. Splays and pools of blood flocked it, filling the area with a hot and musky scent that not even the pouring rain could snuff. Jet felt his stomach twirl with fear—something that hadn't happened in a while. But this… was surreal. It was all he could do to not retch himself dry.
Droy had taken one of the limbs and thrown it off. Then another. He wasn't unfazed by the situation, but had a stagnant resolve to figuring out what happened.
Person was probably dead, though. With all that…
Jet found himself working alongside him, mindlessly moving away bits of battered growth. Then they felt it loosen, and they felt themselves hurled backward at an insane speed. He recovered far faster than Droy, but didn't move an inch after what he saw. Eyes wide, he gazed, through the amazing rain, something he hadn't expected. Unconscious in the center of splinters and woodchips, soaked with water, was a girl who looked younger than he, with porcelain pale skin and sapphire blue so pure, so shining and brilliant. It was clear, though, that all the blood somehow, however unrealistic, came from her. The girl's shoulders were enrobed in the fluid, trickling from her lips, winding past her fingers. Yet, there was the steady and frighteningly small rise and fall of her frail looking chest.
What caught his eye the most was that little charm… the charm of a Crescent Moon clipped to one limp strand of hair. Engraved on it was a name.
"Levy…Levy McGarden…."
===-=============-===Breaking Borders ===-=============-===
~~2 Years Later~~
A man on horseback, with his smaller son on a similar stallion behind him, sped through the Great forest as the sun began to set. Both were experienced hunters of a higher caliber, and both were known in the town of Magnolia for using fire as an aid… and someone not burning down foliage.
They skid to an abrupt stop, the son pulling his hood down while at the same time securing his large striped muffler. He was sleeveless with an armored stomach and baggy pants, though his father, on the contrary, sported a long sleeved trench coat and plated leggings, almost clunky in appearance. Both favored the color black. In a soft thump, the duo slid off and secured their rides.
"I smell a blaze," the father muttered. He had a gruff voice, aged but sharp.
"They've got to be here," the son stated, sure of himself. "I'll make em' pay for sending Max and Pantherlily home in bandages."
From the treetops, three figures hid among the leaves, watching the pair descend farther into the woods on foot. They gazed cautiously at the daggers lashed firmly onto each man' belt, but knew inwardly that it would be no problem. They knew that their visitors had poor swordsmanship. They knew they had low stamina but clever minds. More importantly, they knew where they kept their oil flasks and flint trays.
They stopped.
Both parties held their breaths. The three in the trees—conveniently dressed in hooded brown leather—tensed.
Then everything exploded into action. They dropped down from above but the father and son were ready—knives whipped out in a flash from both sides, and metallic rings were heard. It was at a draw, dagger pushing against dagger, until the third and not as tall tree marauder attacked the father from behind. Sharp metal slashed the midsection of his coat, and down with the cloth came his supplies, and his primary weapons.
A curse, and then a wild swing that just missed the nose of his attacker.
"Dad!" His son called, suddenly worried and a little angry. "Damn it. Shadow gear!"
He tried getting to his father, but his own hands were full. Dodging a heavy punch, his muffler snagged and loosened; pouches of oil splashed out.
Two down, none to go, the attackers thought victoriously.
"Romeo!"
A slam. Romeo's vision went black, just after seeing his father hit the ground with a thud. Damn shadow gear…
The three looked down at their fallen enemies, disappointed and a little sad. The small one spoke up. "Say Jet, Droy, are these the two you told me about before? I think I remember you saying something about a boy named Romeo…"
Jet lowered his hood, grabbing Romeo by the arms an heaving his body piggy-back-style. The kid had gained some muscle, that was one thing. "Yeah, this is them. Romeo and his father, Macao. It's a shame even they want us gone."
Droy removed his hood, then, and did the same with Macao.
Then the small one unveiled her cover, revealing short and unruly blue hair, tousled with the front a little longer. Chocolate brown eyes, soft and kind, landed on their victim's. "But they don't know. They don't know that you are them."
"Yeah, they don't, and they don't have to, Levy" Jet replied with a laugh. "What a joke that would be—the most honored huntsmen reduced to bandits."
"Not bandits, protectors!" Levy retorted.
"Same thing to them—half who hunt don't know the harm in hunting."
"Besides, who knows what would happen if we returned," Droy added. "It wouldn't be pretty."
She opened her mouth to speak.
"—And we wouldn't leave you here behind," he cut off. "You're a Fae, but that doesn't matter."
"But it matters to everyone else," she pouted.
"Well, you're with us, and that's it. We'll get you to your family and we won't stop what we're doing," Jet grinned with a tone of finality.
Levy smiled her natural, radiant smile. There was no fighting Jet and Droy, who were like brothers, and treated her like their very own sister.
They carried Romeo and Macao to their horses, who gave small neighs and grunts. Macao's ride pushed his huge, brown snout onto Jet's chest. He rewarded him with a light laugh and a rub on the nose. "Quit it, Rizzo."
"You know that horse?" Levy asked, a twinkle of her own laugh in her eyes.
Jet nodded, placing Romeo atop his own horse, Stall, in such a way he won't fall off. "Technically, Rizzo is my old steed's brother. I visited the group at the stable and met him often enough when taking my own."
She went up to Rizzo and stuck out her hand, palm up. The horse sniffed her curiously, like her fingers were some new food, before deciding it wasn't a dangerous thing. Then her hand made its way to the top of his head, as he'd lowered it, and pat him gently. For a while they just stood there, until Macao had begun to stir, and Droy sent the horses back to Magnolia with their masters.
"Think we should visit back home sometime?" He asked, taking a deep breath of night air. The sun had already bled out, hiding behind the moon's dark blanket of shadow. "Hide ourselves, but return?"
"I'd like to see where you guys grew up," she said, stretching her arms. "Unlike you, don't remember my past, but yours feels fun."
"I would approve, but I know you'd like my place better, Levy," Jet added. "That guy," he snort, pointing at Droy, "Lived in a pigsty."
"Why you—You were no better! And you always left a million shit smelling boots laying around, stinking up the house!"
"Did not, you messy and incompetent roommate!" Jet snarled competitively.
Levy's face was incredulous. "Roommate? If you live together, what's the difference?"
And so they made their way back to their camp in silence.
===-=============-===Breaking Borders ===-=============-===
The blood red eyes of a monster gazed out, watching as the sun disappeared over the horizon, marking the beginning of his 'day'. A storm was coming. He could smell it, and he could hear the abnormal way the wind blew. He could see in the distance, a cloud forming, one darker than the rest. However, he wasn't looking at that, but rather the young girl much closer, laughing with two men he know he'd seen before. Then he could see a little glint of something silvery and shiny, clipped to the twine of her necklace, in the shape of a crescent moon.
Soon he'd have fulfilled his father's wish, but with the scent of something strong and rancid getting closer and closer, it would have to wait or be interrupted. Something was interfering with his business, and that was one thing that ticked him off the most.
Thunder rolled in.
No one messes with a dragon.
So...this came out not as good as I thought. It's my first, so yeah! Feel free to drop of questions.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters nor anime displayed in this story.
Next Chapter: Red Skies