***I do not own Fairy Tail, nor its characters or its storyline. There are those of you that have read this before. Before you start questioning your own sanity, yes, this has been published before. I had a rough patch and deleted this, amongst other stories. I wrote myself off any bigger stories, but then a friend, Disappear500, told me that I should repost it.
Well, congratulations, Disappear500, looks like you reached through to me. I'm still a bit mean though, so I won't publish the whole thing in one go. Here's the first chapter!***
If you ever had a cat, you might've experienced it bringing home dead animals. You know, dead mice, birds, sometimes fish. I had a cat named Odin. Don't ask me why, it just fit him, somehow. He was very proud, only had one eye, and frequently brought home dead animals. Fish was alright, he ate those, but the birds and mice he always left for me.
I always made little graves for them, with headstones and everything made from pebbles. Mama always found this a rather odd habit, but let me do my thing, since it simply was my way of handling death. You know, get them into the ground, stand in front of the final resting place in silence for a moment, and you're done. I never blamed Odin for hunting or anything. It was his nature, a natural trait from being a carnivore. Heck, I ate meat myself every day.
Still, the dead should be honoured, awarded with slight recognition for their existence. Over the years I got a miniature graveyard on my hands, sorted neatly within a compound complete with a small fence around it. Every now and then I would light a candle for them.
Then the day came when Odin died, thus joining his prey in my little sacred place. I cried, which was understandable since I actually knew him when he was alive. It was alright though, since I already had come to terms with the fact that everything dies eventually. That was what I believed in any case. That was before my world was shattered into tiny, unrecognisable bits.
My village died. It was a small village, but filled with old people, children, adults, animals. You know, things villages usually have. I buried all of them, a thousand graves or more, each with their own little candle showing them the way to the afterlife. I didn't cry though.
How can you cry when there is no longer anyone to comfort you? I also buried the monster that did it. No discrimination. His light was the biggest of all, since he would need the extra light to get to wherever he was headed. After all, when having killed so many human beings while laughing, it had to be shrouded in darkness.
That was my world. Waiting for things to die, so I could show it respect. I stopped respecting life itself after that incident. How can something that hurts you so much deserve respect? Why didn't I die, when everyone else did? I had nowhere to go, unless...
The thought struck me as I sat on a large rock staring at my small graveyard, the one where Odin lay resting, and I saw the headstone next to his with a name of a person I never met. There was that crazy lady. A crazy lady with short, black hair as dark as her eyes, though she harboured warmth in their depths. She should be alive still. She was STRONG. I got up, sent one last look at my wrecked life, the village that no longer held anything. Yes. Ur would be alive still. Or so I thought...
***And as far as I know, I will be seeing you guys in the morrow***