The gentle warmth of a sweet summers day lit up the musty cavern of a classroom. A welcomed change to an otherwise dull and dark habitat for intelligent minds. Had maybe the bookshelves been used for anything other than a place to hold forgotten junk and trashy romance novels -which she already had read- Lucille Heartfilla might have enjoyed her rather endless lessons in that god awful classroom.

Her gaze fluttered towards the room only redeeming quality, a stained glass window, whom unique design was barely clouded by dust and overlooked a massive courtyard. The day in the outside world, free from the burden of those walls, seem so breathtaking in the most ordinary of ways.

The blossoms of a lone sakura tree fluttered in the wind, swirling around carefree children playing catch or slightly older boys training to knights. The girls, of course, helped their mothers with lunch. It seemed unfair, she was stuck there, while everyone else had so much fun.

Suddenly as if an act magic, her tutor's endless babble stopped. She would have sighed or praised whatever god was out there, yet Lucy was rudely interrupted. " Ah, Lady Lucille?"

She turned sharply, wishing to see the intruder. He was a small man, though obviously one of great wealth, with the largest most delighted grin she'd seen, well, ever and an even bigger mustache to boot. She nodded politely, her eyes wide with curiosity. "And you are, sir?"

If possible his grin grew wider, and he tipped his rather colorful hat, "Lord Dreyer at your service."

The name struck a cord, as a faint and nearly forgotten memory sucked her in. Her mother laughing and giggling, nowhere near the end of a joke a Lord Dreyer told her. Perhaps it was really him? She never imagined him so old, of course. Dusting herself off she motioned to stand, of course the corset weighted her down for a good second or two.

"Lord Dreyer, I've heard talk of you. You were a dear friend of my mother, were you not?" She asked in an utterly formal tone, the disapproval of of her tutor isn't something she hoped to gain. Her tutor would voice it directly to her father, and that wouldn't end well.

He raised a curious brow, and his smile momentarily thinned. He met her eyes and then glanced at the tutor. His eyes danced with a curious mischief. He turned toward the Tutor with a gentle smile, and a twinkle in his eyes. "Mind giving us a moment, my lady."

A brilliant blush lit up her skin as she appeared flabbergasted. "My l-lady?! I-I am not...I-I'll just retire now." She was nearly out the door, murmuring to herself, when she stopped, and her gazed snapped back toward Lucy. "Miss Lucy, I except you to behave."

The room descended into silence, as they glanced at each other awkwardly. Makarov broke the silence first, answering her question. "Yes, I was. It was truly a tragedy, her death I mean, and you so young forced to bare-"

"I'm sorry, but I'm not in the mood to discuss such disconcerting things. Need you something?" Lucy responded in a soft, tired voice. She heard so many thing about her mother, and every glance was a reminder. She hoped not to bring up the subject ever again. It hurt too much.

He only smiled, the fatherly sort that shone with warmth. She missed those sorts. "It's alright. I understand." He cleared his throat, perhaps swallowing his tear, or to to bring a change in conversation.

"So what worlds you dream of?"

Lucy raises an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

Makarov only smiles wider. "I stood here waiting to be noticed for quite a bit. Your tutor was expecting someone else so she continued her lesson, yet you never even flinched when the door closed. So what world where you daydreaming of?"

Her eyes fluttered towards the window, of the clear sunny days and children playing. The words escaped her lips without notice. "One of magic."

The bell struck twelve as she took note of what she said. Her eyes widened, and her hands covered the gasped that ran away from her lips.

Makarov stood stoic, he clearly hear her, and that was a problem. After all the mere mention of magic could have her killed. Her hands no longer felt comfortable anywhere, not behind her dress, not grasped together. Not anywhere. A cold sweat broke out, an itch at the back of her head. She was scared of what could happen next. Of what it might do to her.

"I'm sorry I didn't quite catch that, Miss Lucy?"

She sighed in relief and put on a smile. "Oh nothing you'd be interested in. Oh look at the time, I really must be going!"

Grabbing a rather simple green cloak, and an borrowed satchel, she ventured into the gardens. The trek wasn't long, just past yellow stone path, and beyond the brambles bushes. There something beautiful was found.

The Heartfilla Maze.

It was a wild and unorderly thing, filled with wild roses and rarely trekked paths. There things roamed free, and so did she.

It was the only part of the estate that remained out of both her father and brother's watchful eyes. They cared not for the maze at the very end, just she stayed out of it.

When did she ever listen.

It was a frequent escape, so close to the woods that she could envision her freedom from Lords and Ladies.

Yet there was another reason she frequented it so.

As she neared the desired place, she felt a true smile slip on her face. As she neared she wished to skip and dance and only run faster. Then she saw them, and she ran even faster.

For there were her friends.

"Gray! Ezra!"