The foreign language is Swedish.
- Anya.
Chapter 1 – Nattravnen's Warning
The streets of the sleepy town, Magnolia, were deserted, which was well as it was nearing midnight. Only a silhouette wandered round the edges, ambling aimlessly, as if lost.
He was tall and hard-bodied, with blonde hair slicked back in spikes, though some of them fell over his forehead. He wore a sturdy sleeveless shirt with grey fur trimming and carried with him what looked like a patchy, burlap sack with his belongings inside, but what really stood out from him was the peculiar, lightning shaped scar that marked his right eye all the way down to his cheek. It was inherited from his father, likewise his grandfather. It's not everyday you see a man with a scar like that.
The man's name was Laxus Dreyar.
Laxus sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. He had no plans for the night and was stultified. There was nothing much to do in Magnolia after the moon presented itself, nor was there much he could do when there was daylight. He was excommunicated from his grandfather's guild, Fairy Tail, for foolish, unspeakable things, and though he accepted this willingly, he decided that it would be best for him to journey on with his life solus.
He had found himself a home in the East Forest, distances away from Fairy Tail's medicinal advisor, Porlyusica, since she despised consorting with humans, albeit the fact that she is, in fact, also human. He had all the time in the world to himself to polish up his Dragon Slayer skills, but it wasn't much fun attacking the stationary trees.
That was when he decided to go back to Magnolia, to see how things are going.
He had not been there in over a month, and he was anxious. He did not dare to go out in broad daylight, his shame still marked all over him, so nightfall was the ideal time to explore. It proved to be a bad idea, but at least no one saw him.
Laxus sighed again and took one last look around. The guild, a small tavern atop a small hill, sent a pang of guilt and homesickness inside him, and he forced himself to tear his gaze away from it. Perhaps it was time for him to return home.
He retraced his steps down the vacant streets, his steps echoing on the walls. His shadow danced in the flickering lamps that lit up his path home, the silent breeze whistling through his soundless Sound Pod.
He was about to enter the forest when he heard a new sound.
Nattravnen . . . Natravnen . . .
A black bird (dark violet in the light) was perched atop a lamppost, its dark beady eyes boring through Laxus. It had an unusually large beak.
He stared right back at it, bemused, with his head cocked to one side. Something about the bird felt off. The longer he stared at its round, gleaming eyes, the sicker he felt in his stomach. Laxus had a notion it wanted him to do something. The bird bobbed its head, as if reading his mind.
"What do you want?" he said, immediately feeling stupid for casually conversing with a blackbird at midnight. If anyone saw him, they might think he was off his rockers!
Vända sig bort och jag ska säga dig . . . Its 'voice' was nothing more than a raucous warble. Jag behöver sträcka mina vingar, och jag önskar att du inte känna av effekterna . . .
"What?! Speak English! What do you want from me?!"
Jag är rädd att jag inte kan, min gode here, men jag ska försöka . . .
Then a bizarre noise escaped the bird's larynx.
What the heck?! Did he just freaking clear his throat?! Laxus thought, completely flabbergasted.
"Hello . . . my good sir," the bird said, his voice still gruff.
"HUH?!"
"Yes, I is speak to you . . ."
"I KNOW THAT! BUT HOW—"
"I is gifted, my good sir . . ."
"THEN WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST SPEAK ENGLISH IN THE FIRST PLACE?!"
"I think you are understand my language, my good sir . . . My English is no good . . ."
"I can see that," Laxus muttered.
"But if you so kind, my good sir . . . Turn back . . ."
"What?"
"Turn back . . . Turn back . . . Vända tillbaka . . . Vända tillbaka . . ."
"WHAT?!"
"I ask you, my good sir . . . Vända tillbaka . . . Vända tillbaka . . ."
And the bird already took flight in fright.
"WAIT, WHAT'S YOUR NAME, YOU STUPID BIRD?!"
"My name is Nattravnen, my good sir . . . it means . . . night raven . . . I must leave . . . Master needs me . . ." And with that, he was gone.
And no sooner as Nattravnen was out of sight, a loud, deep rumbling shook the earth and Laxus backed up into a wall, taken by surprise. A massive contraption was making its way out of the forest; its spindly yet impregnable eight spider legs supported the colossal weight of the palace sitting atop the vast boulder.
Only, Laxus squinted up at it, his heart racing, it wasn't a palace, was it? It looked more like giant, stripy tent with multicolored banderoles waving lightly in the breeze. The contraption stomped its way forward, taking huge, noiseless steps, much to Laxus' bewilderment. He was rooted to the spot, not in fear, but in utmost confusion.
What is that thing?!
He continued to watch it grow smaller and smaller into the horizon, deftly avoiding houses and flats, and only came to a halt as soon as it reached the town square. There, Laxus heard a piercing noise of mechanics; the eight spider legs were retracted into the boulder, followed by it being sucked into the tent and it landed on the ground like a leaf; softly, unsuspecting.
As much as Laxus was baffled mystified by the strange, giant tent, he was also amazed how no Magnolia citizens cease to wake from their slumber. Had no one really noticed or heard its presence?
Warily, Laxus headed for the town square, where the tent loomed as high as the sky. He could now see that the material was silky smooth and is painted blood red and white as pearls. Nails and ropes have firmly attached it to the ground.
What a tent . . . What is this?
Laxus closed his eyes and listened intently, but he could perceive no sound coming from inside the tent. Its residents must be fast asleep while the machine is working. Amzing, yet so confusing.
He circled the tent, yet there was no way in. It was sealed all around.
Vända tillbaka . . . Vända tillbaka . . . Nattravnen's words rang in his ears, bounding around his skull. Well, he's turned back now. So what next?
Laxus looked up again? Perhaps Nattravnen warning him about this mysterious, mystifying tent. What good or evil or danger does it hold within? His thoughts lingered to Fairy Tail.
Should I warn them?
But he immediately brushed the thought away.
No, I shouldn't raise false alarms and worry old gramps. I should wait until tomorrow, rest here. Maybe then, I'll meet Nattravnen and demand an explanation.
So Laxus settled himself in a secluded corner, one facing the streets, the tent, and drifted off into an uneasy, Nattravnen plagued sleep.