I
It was Sunday when it happened. I remember smoking a blunt, killing a bottle, trying hard to forget about the shitty life I had. As a young adult living alone, full of student debt, followed by the constant loathe comments I got through my job. I was an intern for the local magazine, wrote about my point of view on politics; never really got noticed, because my small section hid between the nude image of a woman and the "interesting topics" section. Yet I'd get emails saying I held no right to speak of the government in such manner, or that imbecile was too short of an insult for me. So, I stood outside on the balcony; in one hand I held my bottle, in the other my blunt, glancing at the entire apartment complex, seeing the children play amongst themselves without knowing that once they grow up, they will be faced with hardships. Because that's just where they will go in such a world.
My eyes traveled to my bottle, seeing that it was now empty. Frustrated, I dropped it. But as I did, it appeared as if time stood still momentarily until a strong gust of wind hit my face, throwing me off the balcony. I held tightly onto the railing as I struggled not to fall fifteen stories down, yet the effect of how high I was helped not. My hands slipped, and before I knew it, I woke to a wooden ceiling and the odor of herbs (smelled like my old mother's room). Maybe that's why I didn't panic immediately as I saw an elderly woman with hot pink hair dabbing a cool rag on my forehead.
She sighed as she noticed my awakening. "You're awake," she uttered amusingly. "If Lucy hadn't spotted you in the forest, who knows in what condition you would have subsided in."
Frowning, trying hard to evade the tingling feeling in my head, I looked down at my hands, realizing that they were much smaller than what my memory would allow me to recollect. My thighs were smaller, my chest small too; I looked like a teenager again. What the actual Fuck.
"What did you do to me, hag?" I asked, standing rapidly, letting my toes touch the wooden floor, feeling them struggle to even stand. I grimaced as my head gave a whole 360. The woman held me by my shoulders, struggling to keep me seated. The herbal smell now began to get on my last nerve instead of relaxing me, which usually is the first intention of the sizzling leaf.
"You were probably attacked by a baboon or some robbers," she said, finally getting me to stay still. "You have a minor concussion and a gush across your waist… hold on," pulling the white dress I had up, her eyebrows raised, amazed that my skin had no cut. "It healed overnight, I assume. What type of magic do you have?" she appeared so serious, I couldn't take it as a joke at all.
"Magic?" I questioned her, wondering exactly what she meant. "What is you talking about? Magic is the shit you see in films, not something you have within you." She looked confused by how I answered her, stopping and attempting to say something but hesitated every time. "Say something already," I demanded.
"You must have a case of amnesia," she uttered. "Because you can't be a pedestrian with those regenerating qualities. The gush was deep. Deep enough to require a transfer of blood."
"Who was the doner?" I asked immediately, thinking of how I now had the blood of someone else within my veins. The hag wouldn't say anything; her lips remained pursed so hard as if she ate a sour prune. "Is you gonna answer?" I insisted.
She glared at me. "Well, Natsu and his team had already left, so the blood donor was—"
"Me," said a deep voice. The man stepped into the room; blond hair, big and buff, with a scar running up his right eye. "Don't look so disappointed, kid."
"I'm not a kid," I retorted, regardless of my small figure and thin voice. "I bet I could beat you in beer pong. One on one, foo." His eyebrow raised, then he laughed amusingly.
"My name's not 'Foo'" he replied.
"I don't give a fuck about your name," I replied. "All I care about is getting back to my crib and figure out what type of crack I'm on because, shit, this don't feel right at all."
The man laughed. "You're funny, kid," he said. "Got a name?" I glared at him, then saw the look on the woman's face. She seemed as if she were about to explode in any minute.
"Ash," I said, "Ash Martinez." He frowned. "What?" I inquired.
He shook his head. "Never have heard a name like that before," he said, one foot out the door. "Well, I'm out of here, hag."
I stood up, finally able to walk, I approached the mirror, seeing that I resembled my middle school pictures. Long, dark brown hair, regular size thighs, medium size chest, freckles, and green eyes. My adult body I struggled so hard to gain in the gym was now ruined. I didn't have my tattoos, or piercings though. It had been a long time since I've seen myself without them. Back in Kansas, I was twenty-one, here, I look like I'm fourteen. "I need to work on my butt again," I told myself, seeing the rears my Mother granted me with, but it wasn't what I wanted.
"A 'Thank You, Laxus' would be appreciated," said the man.
"Wait, hold up," I said quickly, "your name is Laxus?"
He nodded. "Didn't recognize me?" He seemed bothered.
"You look like a regular white guy with a scar on his eye, to me," I replied with a laugh. "You said my name was weird when yours makes no sense."
"You here makes no sense," he sneered. "Got to go," he told the hag. "Catch you later, kid."
"You gonna catch these hands, that's for sure," I retorted, even though I agree with him one hundred percent with him. Me being in this place made no sense.
Laxus shook his head as he left. The woman began to mop up a couple of stains on the ground; the stains of my blood. I felt unsettled by the thought. Yet I was used to seeing blood. People got shot back home, so seeing a little bit of blood made no difference.
"What's your name, hag?" I asked her. Her eyes flickered.
"Porlyusica," she growled. "And if you call me Hag one more time, I'll kick you out of here."
I laughed. For some reason, their names wouldn't make sense to me. "No need to kick me out, Yusica," I inferred, "I'll leave myself."
She glared at me. "Go then," she said. "However, you should go meet Makarov. If you have no one, that is. After all, you're still a child."
"Who's this 'Makarot' guy," I asked. Her eyes narrowed, evidently showing that she'd become upset.
"It's Makarov," she said earnestly. "He's the master of the Fairy Tail guild. If you don't have a home, he'll take you in."
"Fairy Tail Guild?" I questioned, again, not understanding all these terminologies. "Is that name of a new gang or sum?"
"What rock have you been living under?" she inquired. "Ah, right. You have amnesia. Well, the Fairy Tail guild is a place where the strongest wizards in magnolia reside. They take jobs and are rewarded for it. How does that sound to you?"
I shook my head. "Sounds like a whole lotta bullshit to me," I said as I stepped out.
My eyes could barely take in what I was seeing. A bast, life-changing forest stood ahead of me. The trees were as tall as buildings, grass as tall as my waist, boulders as big as cars, the sun rays coming through the trees creases... I've never been to a forest in my life. This, however, was something else.
"Recognizable?" questioned Porlyusica from behind me.
"Breathtaking," I replied, stepping forward into the forest, going in the direction she advised me to make to town much quicker. But even then, as I walked through the vast forest, I couldn't help but think of my ex, who enjoyed camping and taking me with him. I'd sleep in his car and steal his snacks from the dashboard though, while he slept outside. Never really enjoyed the outdoors. I never really enjoyed anything after my parents passed away.
After at least a good half an hour of walking, which felt like ages to me, I made it to Magnolia. Shops and houses everywhere. People smiling, laughing and conversing amongst each other with no care in the world. It was different from back home because here people appeared nonchalant and ecstatic in the streets, when in the world I originated from, people fend for themselves. They called it, 'the survival of the fittest'.
I asked for Fairy Tail to a random merchant in a shop, and he said to follow the main street until I saw the main building with bright, vibrant colors, 'Fairy Tail'. I wondered about the name though; what did it mean? Was it literal? Symbolic? I'd have to find out for myself. Yet I'd get looks from people due to how I was dressed. I can't blame them, I was wearing rags. A long, plain white dress that reached my knees with brown boots.
As I finally arrived at the guild doors, I saw the huge letters. There was no doubt this was the place Porlyusica was speaking about. But I wondered about how big the building was. Were there real wizards in this building? The town seemed pretty regular if you asked me. No one used magic. The only bizarre thing? People were extremely gracious. Probably because they were protected by the entirety of wizards within the doors in front of me. I stretched my hand forward, pushing the wooden door softly, trying hard not to gain any attention to myself, and to my favor, I didn't. The strong smell of alcohol and beer intoxicated my lungs, reminding me that I was once again a child, not an adult, but even then, I began drinking when I was sixteen. Shouting and cheers came from various directions; people sat in large tables, drinking and eating. Some people were dressed regularly enough, while others wore armor, capes, or nothing at all. The air, however, felt different within the walls of Fairy Tail. As if it had a mysterious aura to the air. No smell, no odor, but right there indeed.
"Are you lost?" asked a beautiful girl with bright blue eyes and hair bright as snow. "Or are you looking for somebody?" My eyes traveled to the lacey maroon dress she wore, and a tray of beer grasped between her small hands. She appeared so frail, yet something made my skin tense up as she neared me. After I didn't answer, she took the initiative, saying, "well, you can wait here. Do you want something to drink?"
I nodded. "But I got no money," I uttered, feeling my cheeks reddened. Back home, I always carried money. Never have I needed to ask somebody for a dollar. "Besides, I'm just looking for Makarot," I added. "Yusica said he'd help me."
She giggled. "Don't worry about the money, honey, what is that you want?" she smiled. "You're the girl Lucy found in the forest." She glanced at a group of people by the loudest table. "He'll be here in a little. How about you stay here." She began to leave, when she stopped halfway, glancing at me once again. "My name's Mira," she said, "what's your name?"
I pursed my lips. People usually weren't this kind to me. "Ash," I said. "I want a shot of lemon-lime Vodka, please."
"Nice to meet you, Ash, but aren't you a little too young to be drinking hard liquor like that? I'll get you a Milkshake," said Mira giving me a look of confusion. Right, I'm young again. She headed over to the bar, muttered something to a very short man.
By the corner of my eye, I saw a girl with blond hair eating peacefully (she reminded me of my best friend back home), even though the people around her seemed to be having some type of disagreement. There was a tall guy with pink hair, followed by this other guy exposing half his chest with dark, raven hair. Both had the same tattoo as everyone; the difference being where it resided and the color.
"We're glad to have you with us, Ash," said the old man. He somehow made it over to me without me realizing it. He was either too short or too stealth. "Porlyusica alerted me of your memory loss condition. We would be glad to lend you some hospitality as your memory triggers back."
"Um…" I uttered, feeling somewhat flustered. "Thank you?"
He smiled. "I'm Makarov, the master of this wizard guild."
I nodded. "Yeah, I've been told that," I replied awkwardly. Mira handed me the Milk Shake. I took the cold brew within my palms and smiled apologetically as I took a sip. All my worries washed away with the sweet flavor of banana and vanilla splashing in my mouth. "That shit's good," I said, taking another sip.
"Would you like to be given a mark for the time being here?" asked Makarov.
"I mean," I began, still amazed by how flavorful the drink was. "If I get shit like this every day, I wouldn't mind being part of this guild, to be honest. Shit," I finished the drink so quickly, the disappointment that washed over me as I glanced at the empty cup made me sigh.
"What color would you like your mark?" asked Mira, holding a stamp between her palms. "You can choose any color you desire, Ash."
"Black all the way, girl," I said, lifting my dress, revealing my thighs and rears. "Right here." I noticed Makarov blushing. "Stop being such a prude, old man," I sneered.
Mira laughed. "Welcome to the Fairy Tail guild, Ash," she said, placing the Fairy Tail mark on me. "We're glad to have you."
I saw the mark bulge with light, then die down, revealing a book size tattoo. I smiled, finally seeing something on my skin. "So wassup with this joint? What do I do?" I was trying to ask Mira, but she had already gone to attend someone else. Makarov, however, still remained next to me.
"Well," he began, "you came to us at a very exciting moment." He seemed excited.
"Why's that, old man?" I asked, moving over to a table; it was awkward to simply stand in the middle of the Fairy Tail hallway. "Someone's finna fight?"
"Even better," he continued. "We're doing the S-Class wizard Trials. All those chosen to participate have already honed their skills and will show them off at Tenrou Island. All of this will be happening in a week. You sadly won't be allowed to come, but you're welcome to stay here and hone your own skills with those who will not participate."
"Where's Laxus?" I asked, forgetting everything he had already said. "Thought he was part of the Fairy Tail guild, but I don't see his ass."
"Laxus?" questioned the old man. "You've seen him? How's he doing?" he sounded worried.
"Yeah," I told him, "he seemed aight to me. He donated some of his blood to me—which I didn't need, but that's not the point. The point is that he's a fucking dick and he's gonna get his ass beat at beer pong."
Makarov's lips pursed just like Porlyusica's. Who was this Laxus guy?
"He's my grandson," said Makarov, appearing as if he'd read my mind. "But he's not part of the Fairy Tail Guild anymore. He—"
"You don't gotta explain if it makes you uncomfortable, old man," I told him, smiling apologetically. "I'll ask his ass myself next time I see him."
I sat there, glancing at the cracks within the wood, wondering why I was brought to this weird place when all I did was fall from my balcony. But when I think about it, the fall would have killed me, yet even then… maybe I would have been better off dead. Someone or something had brought me here to this world. I hadn't seen anyone use magic of sorts, but talking cats and genuinely nice people don't come around that easily. Yet again, I've been on this plane for a little… I might want to be on for the entire ride.
A man full of studs in his face walked through the doors alongside a black, little panther, who seemed to be carrying a red weapon on his back. The man with studs had a mean glint to his eyes; mysterious-red at that. His dark, black hair reached his lower back, evidently showing that he was some type of badass. His face jerked back, meeting my eyes, he squinted, as if he'd seen me before. But… that would be impossible, right?
"Thought you were Wendy," said the man, his voice husky and dark. "Who are you?"
I rolled my eyes. "Nun your business," I told him, "how 'bout you give me your name first. That's how it's supposed to go ain't it?"
He chuckled. "I don't recognize your smell, so you must be a new member," he said to himself. "But you sure got a mouth on you." He sat down in front of me, a smirk on his face. The little panther plopped himself next to him. "So, what's your Magic?"
I crossed my arms. "Still haven't gotten your name," I sneered, glaring at him just as hard as he was glaring at me.
"Gajeel," he spat, "now answer my question."
"Weird-ass name," I said, trying hard not to break eye contact. "And I don't need to answer your questions. Back where I'm from you need a warrant from the court to interrogate me, unless I'm a suspect to a crime, and based on my knowledge, I have committed none. So, yeah, don't press me, metal-ass looking-jit."
The panther's mouth laid open as if it were odd for someone to be talking to Gajeel that way.
Gajeel stood, scratching the back of his head. "You need to calm down," said the Panther. Great, they talk, too. "She's just a teenager."
"Teenager my fucken ass," I retorted.
"I don't like you," spat Gajeel, glaring at me. "I don't like your attitude."
I frowned. "So? Who gives a fuck about what you like or not?" I inquired. "But I guess we on the same page, 'cause—"
He pulled his fist backward, ready to punch my face, yet it was odd how I could see him moving. He was either moving too slow or my brain was reacting too quickly. He aimed at my stomach. I reacted rapidly, remembering the Military Martial Arts my Dad taught me before he passed away. I took his wrist, twisted it, stepping up on the table, and flipping him over my back. Time seemed to move back at its normal pace again. He growled, obviously not expecting to be dodged in such a way.
"She's fast," said the Panther. "Really fast."
Everything went quiet around me; the laughs and cheers stopped until a pink head, annoying, and incredibly loud shouted, "I can't believe you got your ass beat by a kid," then burst out laughing with the rest of the guild.
A/N: A comment would be much appreciated. Let me know what you think.