Hello! First long-term FanFic here, and I'm really nervous but I seriously hope that people like it!

*I didn't mention in the summary that this is a GaLe, LaMi, NaLu, Gruvia, Baccana, ElfEver, Bixana, Jerza (unsure because he may or may not appear in this FanFic altogether), etc. etc. FanFic... the bold ones will probably be more prominent than the other ones...

I am planning on pairing my OC with Gildarts...so if you possessively love Gildarts, I dunno how you'll feel about this Fic ;3

Kith and Kin

Prologue Part 1: Before We End

X772

She could hear them calling her name, hoping that she would return their searching yells, but Levy's body refused to respond. At five-years-old, she didn't understand why her tongue couldn't work, why she couldn't stop shivering, and why, as hard as she tried, she couldn't stop crying. Only moments before, she had adamantly rejected the idea of shedding tears, but now the flood flowing down her cheeks couldn't be dammed.

Distantly, someone spotted her and rushed to her, cradling her in their arms as their voice thundered her location. Soon, several other members of Fairy Tail spilled into the huddle of trees in front of the small cavern where she had laid for what seemed like hours. She recognized the orange strands her savior's hair. "Gilly?"

"It's alright, Levy," Gildarts assured her, "Everything's alright."

She heard her sister's brother's voice when Laxus asked, "Where's Selika?"

"Selly?" At the sound of her sister's name, Levy jolted forward as she remembered the screaming—that horrible screeching that had pierced Levy's ears until she had thought that they bled. She instinctively raised her hands to her ears and compressed her head, hoping to block out the noise of the people who had howled their pain. Levy knew that their screams had been torn from their throats because Selly had—

A cry ripped from her own throat as Levy recalled the reason for why her sister had tucked her away, within a cave formed by thick roots of several adjacent trees. Laxus had been sent away, back to the guild for help.

Help that hadn't arrived on time.

Levy continued to scream into the haze of her vision, as she felt the eyes of too many people on her. There had also been so many people surrounding her in the clearing before their house, when the three of them had arrived in the twilight hours of the night. And when Selly had shielded her and Laxus from their attacks, there had been so much—

The five-year-old grit her teeth at the reminder of what had happened within the last hour; she barely perceived the stinging numbness of her gums from the heavy pressure. Gildarts looked at her with a concerned expression, and stroked her hair in repeated caresses, attempting to provide comforting words that would quiet her voice and her thoughts. But Levy continued to scream, for the man could not compare to the gentle touches and the berceuse voice of her older sister.

"Levy!" The girl didn't register the yell, but looked up anyways, seeing the two boys who had declared themselves her best friends. Both Jet and Droy ran to her, tripping and stumbling over the large roots that were slithered across the forest floor. While Jet hurled himself at her for a reassuring hug, Droy hesitated when looked at her. His eyes widened as he pointed to her hands. "What happened?" he asked.

When she lowered her eyes to her recognizably charred hands, the flashbacks that she had managed to hold back before, suddenly erupted in blurred bursts of blood within her mind. Her mother's haunting expression clear in her mind for one, single moment, and then the image of her mother face down in a pool of red—red that was everywhere. Its vibrancy had splattered across the clearing's grass, almost as if it was trying to imitate the festive coloring of Christmas.

But the presence of Levy's mother had been no gift.

Gildarts had no idea what to do when the tiny kid in his arms rocked herself back and forth, wailing an indescribable sound while digging her nails into her scalp. Those precious strands of her sky-colored hair became streaked with blood from her tender, bleeding palms, and he had to gently restrain her arms in order to keep her from infecting her wounds. One of her female friends, Laki, tried her best to keep the other girl calm—a six-year-old calming a five-year-old.

Porlyusica would have his helpless hide if Levy caused more injuries to herself.

At the thought of Fairy Tail's provisional healer in addition to the sight of the frightened girl in front of him, Gildarts hoped that Porlyusica was hurrying to their location at the fastest speed there was. And if she wasn't, it would be she—old age be damned—who would be a patient of her own.

It wasn't just because he wanted Levy McGarden to have a fast and comfortable recovery; he wanted to join the search for the girl's older sister. His comrade was only a few weeks from being an eighteen-year-old, and though she was entirely capable of handling herself, she was still only a kid.

Especially in comparison to his thirty-three years of age.

He tamped down the thoughts of their spacial age difference. Though Selika was often considered older than her actual appearance, they were still sixteen years apart; sixteen years too late and sixteen years too early for each other. While her finer feelings were sometimes visible for the world to see, his own were only released in his darkest hours.

The hours in which he guiltily thought of Cornelia, and how he missed her despite the feelings he had begun to reluctantly nurture for his fellow guild member.

Occasionally he wished that the said member would confide more in him, but somehow, despite the lack of confidence, Gildarts trusted her. He trusted Selika with every fiber of his life, and he was certain that each breath that he took was one that she was willing to take for him if it ever came down to that necessity.

He would do the same for her.

From the corner of his eye, Gildarts noticed a mixture of pink, red, and green, as in accordance with Porlyusica's appearance. Though the aged healer arrived in a fitful of grumbles and curses, Porlyusica silenced her mutterings as she assessed the damage wrecked on the kid. A few of the other guild members had gathered around her as she inspected Levy, and although she eventually ushered them away, for the first observed time, she did so politely.

Because it had been so distinguishably odd, Fairy Tail members stood in awe for several moments until the medic growled for them to move. As people hastened to leave her line of sight, Porlyusica's face seemed to waver between the emotions of anger, despair, and uncertainty. She murmured something to Master in a tone too low for him to hear, but the shocked widening of Makarov's eyes told Gildarts that the kid's condition wasn't any good.

He ground his teeth at the thought of the death of a little girl he had known for just over three years. It had been worrying enough to hear that Levy and Selika had been attacked but it was downright cruel to be surprised with the possibility that Levy might not recover from it.

Gildarts had no idea how Selika would take the news but he imagined that all of Fiore would be in danger until she hunted down the people who dared to hurt her family, and communicated her wrath in the most violent of manners. Because if there was anything that Selika was before everything, it was a sister who didn't know how to be anyone else.

He heard his name, and focused his attention on Porlyusica's softly wrinkled face. She snapped at him until he gave a sign of recognition in the form of a confused noise from the bottom of his throat. The woman nodded her head towards a suddenly unconscious Levy. "Give this kid your cloak and get her some proper clothing!"

For a moment he hesitated, distracted by the way that her glare was somewhat different from the one that she commonly gave all and any human. Somehow it made her features appear not as harsh as when she usually pulled her face into that familiar expression.

Words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop to think about them. "Shouldn't Laxus get them?"

"Then find him, and get to it!" Those were the last words that the woman seemed to be willing to spare him, and with a final huff she fully turned her attention to Levy while conferring with Makarov on the side.

Gildarts quickly glanced around them as he realized that the eleven-year-old wasn't among the guild members who had come in search of the McGarden girls. There was no doubt in his mind that the boy had went in search of his older sister, once Levy had been confirmed to be safe. With a sigh, he set off in the direction of Selika's home, hoping to encounter him on the way.

Laxus had been at the guild since the time that Ivan had arrived with a bundle of two-month-old joy tucked in his arms—the only time Gildarts had ever seen him act fatherly towards his son. Most of the man's time was spent away from the guild, in various towns and sometimes faraway countries without a word to Makarov or Laxus.

Or Selika.

As Gildarts gathered, Selika and Laxus shared the same father, while Levy and Selika shared the same mother. There was no apparent relation between Selika's siblings, other than herself. He supposed that was the reason for why she had done her best to serve them in every way that they needed her; an all-in-one sister.

He remembered the day on which a fifteen-year-old girl, dirtied and scratched, arrived to stay at Fairy Tail. She had declared it to Ivan and Makarov with a fierce fervor that hadn't matched her emotionless face, while holding her younger sister's hand within her own. Laxus had been ecstatic for that entire day, following both of the McGardens to every nook and cranny of Magnolia. At the time, Gildarts had been assigned as their guide to look for either an apartment or a home since neither Laxus nor Levy had wished to part with Selika, as would be required at Fairy Hills.

The man froze as he stepped into the clearing set before the house.

Their perfect home had been a mangled bungalow hidden at the edgy outskirts of the town. He admitted to have laughed at first sight of it, and claimed that the place was practically uninhabitable with its torn floors, broken windows, and endless lengths of ivy rooted throughout the entirety of the house. Even the forest surrounding it seemed to threaten the its demise as trees caved in and around its patchy roof; one area already had several tree limbs sticking through it.

But Gildarts had eaten those words on the day after Selika purchased the house.

When he had visited, the disaster had been repaired, washed out, and reborn. Though the siblings had left the ivy that covered the outside walls, and a tree that stood within the house itself, they had ripped out the rest of the plants. The scattered glass pieces from the smashed windows had been glued back together after they had been individually painted with transparent, colored polish with the finished product of what appeared to be stained-glass windows.

Even as people questioned how three children had managed to remake it in just a single day, the house was viewed as a remarkable miracle created at the hands of genius. People from town—whether they were from Fairy Tail or not—felt obliged to donate their old furniture, tools, and utensils in order to contribute to the trio's survival. Somehow the house's interior appeared cozy with all of its mismatched and assorted accessories.

But without anyone inside, lighting up its rooms with candles, it seemed uncomfortably depressing.

And fairly recent addition of blood made the house look haunted.

Gildarts covered his mouth and nose as the stench of rotting flesh rose to his senses, and stepped around what he assumed was now a graveyard. Except, despite what his nose had deduced, he could see no bodies; nothing besides grass, the house, and red puddles.

Brushing aside the question, he forged his way to the house, avoiding the blood. Beneath his boots, he heard light squelches and an occasional crunch, but thought nothing of it until his foot landed on something too slippery to stay upright upon. Heading straight into a puddle, Gildarts braced himself with his hands and forearms.

And felt more than just the wetness of the blood.

He unwillingly yelped as he snatched his hands away—away from the mixture of blood, bone, and baggy skin. Gildarts couldn't hold back his stomach as he saw that his movement had flung other pieces of human matter out onto the grass nearby; a part of an eye and something that he could barely make out to be an ear.

It was almost as if he had needed to get to ground level in order to see the dispersed pieces of human; he couldn't tell how many people were spread out on the field with him, but he didn't doubt that there were quite a few. From their condition, he couldn't tell their ages or their numbers—all he could tell was that they were simply dead meat.

And that it could be possible that Selika was among them.

He heaved at the thought.

As he coughed up his vomit for a second time, and spat out the bile that remained in his mouth, he refused to wipe away his mouth with the back of his hand; the blood of others wasn't a great thing to put near one's mouth.

There was a river, somewhere behind the house; Gildarts hoisted himself up to find it, only to fall from the shearing pain that cut through his ankle. More blood splattered over himself and the grass around him. He growled at his unfortunate luck when he realized that the joint was sprained.

He went from tree to tree to support himself, leaving streaks of red as his fingers slipped along each strip of bark that passed their way. It wasn't until he reached his fifth tree that he noticed that several leaves of low hanging branches were also coated with blood and bent in unnatural ways in the same direction—as if someone had passed by in a hurry.

Gildarts quickened his pace, ignoring the frequent spikes of pain that stabbed along his leg. He had to see if it was her or if it was her murderer.

If it was the latter, Gildarts would kill the bastard or the bitch. Whichever gender the killer was, he would do everything to destroy the person who dared to—

The trees opened up just as quick as he walked through them, falling on his knees due to lack of an available crutch. He bit back a curse as impact rippled its consequences throughout his body, and did his best to hold up his head to the figure who stood before him, facing the river that gushed water in its current's fast streams.

By the cerulean length of her hair, and the militant stiffness that was always prominent from her back, Gildarts knew that it was her. Though her clothing was bloodied and her tights were ripping themselves apart as though they were suicidal, she stood as straight and proud as she usually was.

Selika.

When he had awakened that morning, he had been assailed with a premonition. It had clung onto his shoulders; refusing to be forgotten, even as he tried to ignore it.

And now he paid for it.

"What is her condition?" The question came out of his throat too hoarsely, as if his grim expression didn't already convey his emotions concerning one of the youngest members of his guild. He didn't care that the question was nearly pointless; Makarov Dreyar would prefer to know the flat-out truth anyways.

The healer pursed her lips tightly before she reached for her broom and flung it upwards, handle first. It shifted its direction without guidance, flying towards its owner's home in a flash.

Before Makarov could say another word, the object returned with several items attached to its straw. Porlyusica seized a bottle of clear fluid and popped its cork open with her teeth as she grabbed a roll of bandages and unwound some of its gauzy material before handing the roll to Makarov. He didn't repeat his question until she spat away the cork from her lips.

She replied under her breath, just barely loud enough for him to hear. "This is no wound I can repair."

"What?"

"Her hands are not burned, Makarov," she whispered as she poured one of her potions onto Levy's palms. "And I don't know why they're blackened, but—" In her sleep, the girl shifted and the small whimper that escaped her mouth skewered the guild master with more guilt.

He pushed the excess down, and focused on the child's hands as Porlyusica pointed out something significant about them. As the woman washed the blood and grime away, Makarov could make out the faint imprint of—

"Runes?" he asked, perceiving the affirming nod without looking at the healer beside him. His brow furrowed as he asked neither to himself nor Porlyusica, "Why would a Solid Script mage need to cast runes on themselves?"

His former team member was silent as she told him, "Those runes aren't for ordinary usage."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Listen, I've seen these runes before." She wet her dry lips before she told him, "Precht had once been studying them when he was guild master." She looked straight into his eyes when she said, "These are from a Black Arts book, Makarov."

The man stiffened at both his master's name, and the idea that the man he revered could possibly be dealing in a matter that had any connection to the Black Arts and in turn, Zeref. He tried to keep his voice contained, but he couldn't control his growl. "Are you insinuating that a former guild master of Fairy Tail was a Black Mage?"

Her voice was clear when she boldly admitted, "Yes."

For a second Makarov was stunned by her confidence. He had always thought that Porlyusica had respected Precht Gaebolg as much as he had, and that she had maintained that respect after the man had left them. How dare she attempt to trample on their guild master's memory. "You can't possibly believe that."

Indignation flashed across her face as she bound Levy's hands, covering up the markings the both of them were arguing over. "I saw it with my own two eyes, so yes, I believe that."

"Then you saw wrong," he said, turning away from Porlyusica in order to shield her from the anger that was prevalent in his face, if not already in his tone. He heard nothing from her for several moments, and by then he had already reigned in his emotions and brought his attention back to the child laid before them.

He didn't expect her to say, "This is why you married Lereda."

Time seemed to stop when she finally let loose a matter that they had both tried to forget; a matter he believed that he already had forgotten, after all these years. Makarov had loved his wife, just as much as he had once loved the pink-haired healer—he had made sure to shower Lereda with all the happiness that she could have had in the fifteen years that their marriage had lasted.

"I would have married Lereda anyways." The words had slipped out before he had been able to contain them, and he didn't need to look at Porlyusica to tell that she was hurt by those words. Even if the woman didn't wear her heart upon her sleeve, he could tell by the silence his words met, that pain was present within her.

The both of them were freed from their seconds of awkwardness when Levy stirred in her drugged sleep, and let out a frightening yell. "Selly! No, Selly, don't do it! Don't go! Don't leave me here!" Porlyusica waved a potion beneath the girl's nose, and after a few more distraught whispers, Levy drifted back off to sleep.

"Makarov," Porlyusica whispered, breaking their silence. "What secrets has your granddaughter hidden from us?"

A/N: Okay...this is the first part of the prologue, as suggested by the title...so more in a little bit

BTW, the house is supposed to be Natsu and Happy's house :] before they moved in, anyways...that's why there are some differences...like the ivy...and the stained-glass

Please PM me if you want some clarification on how the whole Selika-Laxus-Levy family, because I feel like I didn't really describe it all that much in this first prologue part...

Reviews and constructive criticism would be much appreciated, and please PM me if you'd like to know something about Kith and Kin