Chapter 1
Jellal Fernandes had never asked for much. So why was it him that was stuck on this boat, being carted off to an unknown destination where the only thing he was certain was that pain and torture were inevitable? All he wanted was to wake up from this nightmare, back in his mother's arms…
His mother…
He wasn't sure how long he had been on this boat for. Two hours? Five days? Everything felt so raw and gruesome, he was in shock and unable to gage such mundane elements as time passing.
All he remembered was that sight. His mother's chest being ripped open by a sword held by some cultist in a strange mask. He couldn't even tell which one of his captors had been the one to take his mother's life. Does that make me a bad son? He wondered. Surely I should have his face visible in my mind forever, surely I should want revenge.
But he was just a ten year old boy whose life had been ripped apart in a matter of minutes. He hadn't had time to think what he should or shouldn't remember during the span of time it took these zealots to invade his village and reach his home...then that happened and he just stood there, shocked, not believing his own senses. She couldn't be dead. Not just like that. She was all I had…
He thought of his mother. Her blue hair, blue eyes, and facial markings that were born on to every member in their village. Each one differed with each individual. He had always been told that they held the power to determine that individual's fate, in fact there were many fortune tellers there who dedicated their lives to the practice of deciphering the strange markings. His mother had always scoffed whenever they passed by the fortune tellers, insisting that there was no set way to decipher them, as each individual mark had its own way of being interpreted. Jellal agreed with this statement - it was rare for the predictions made to actually come true, though that never stopped the locals from trying.
Thinking about his village made his thoughts turn dark again. Most of them were dead. He hadn't seen any be taken away with him. It was possible that he was the only one left…
He felt the warmth of his tears drip on to his folded legs.
They were already a rare race of people, often persecuted for their abnormal features. Why was fate so disgustingly cruel? His mother's life had been wrought with turmoil she hadn't deserved, like his father.
Though no one in the village ever explicitly explained to him the circumstances of his conception, he had heard enough to infer what kind of man his father was, and despise him. After hearing whispers between two elder ladies in the market about how they pitied his mother for having been given to that man for the night because she was the prettiest unwed girl while his party traveled through town, he had run to his mother in tears asking what they meant. She had told him that his father was a very powerful, influential man, and that while they may not have made him out of love, that didn't mean she would ever love him any less than she would had he been born in the happiest of marriages.
He had always appreciated how honest his mother had always been with him. It showed him that she respected his autonomy. He felt the tears on his lap fall harder, at an increasing rate.
After she told him how much she loved him, she would say that her love did come at a price; a promise. She made him promise that when and if he ever felt that he loved someone, no matter who it was, that he would make sure that they knew how much he cared for them. She told him she would never forgive him if he was too cowardly to dedicate himself to them fully. After this she went on an explanation of how she wanted him to have the kind of relationship she never came around to having; having someone to love absolutely, getting married, maybe having children… the whole package. She used to joke sometimes that maybe the right man for her was still out there somewhere, just waiting to run into her, fall desperately in love and sweep her off her feet. But Jellal could tell from her expression and tone when she talked about such things that she didn't fully believe them. It saddened him then to think that his mother had such unmet dreams. It saddened him even more now to know that they would never come true.
Jellal was pulled from his reverie by the sound of the boat's door being lifted, and one of the masked madmen standing in front of it, ready to address the collection of prisoners.
This one was comedically fat, Jellal noted. I would remember if he was the one to take mom's life.
"Welcome vermin" stated the fat man. "to the Tower of Heaven" Jellal noticed the shape of some grotesque structure behind the man, with strange winding metal pipes and jagged spiked jutting out. It was clearly in the midst of being built.
"You lot will have the honour of serving the great Lord Zeref. From now onward, you will work to bring about his resurrection. We have graciously decided to spare your lives for now, providing you with both food AND a place to sleep. Be grateful, as disobedience will be met with the most severe of punishments" The fat man cackled as he ended his speech, as though the thought of torturing traumatized slaves brought him blissful pleasure and amusement.
Guards surrounded the prisoners, forcing them to stand and march out the door onto the small island where the ominous structure resided. They were led inside it to concrete cells, and each given a small portion of stale bread. One of the guards then locked them in the cell, talking to them from outside.
"Eat up while you can. We're giving you the next few hours to get used to this place. Don't get used to such privileged treatment though, and make sure to thank us for bestowing upon you the honour of taking part in the construction of the Tower of Heaven - whoever takes part in this will end up in Heaven! Now doesn't that sound nice?"
He walked away in a fit of giggles before anyone could ask any questions, though it didn't look like anyone had any. Most of the people sharing his cell were in a state of shock, some crying, some looking too mortified to cry. A young woman in the corner had vomited from the anxiety.
Jellal curled up in a ball on the cold, dirty floor. Please let this be a dream he thought. Please let me wake up and find that this was all a horrible, horrible nightmare.