A/N: A tale of Mystogan's past that never was in the original anime. My second fanfic; forgive me for OOC-ness if there are any and awkwardly-written fighting scenes. Warning: Plenty of fluff, and this is not Pantherlily X Mystogan! Just a simple father-son relationship. The song entitled 'Hide and Seek' is owned by Imogen Heap. Characters of Fairy Tail belong to Mashima Hiro!
Where were we?
The pain was too much. Red, fresh blood spilled and tainted the linens and covers of white. She screamed, moaned, and cried. Sweat studded her temple. Her eyes were sore and swollen. She gripped the sheets, tightly so that her knuckles turned white.
Hurry up. I can't endure much more. She pleaded, her energy depleting as was her life.
What the hell is going on?
"Please bear a little longer, your majesty! It's nearly out!" The voices of the medics and nurses slowly faded, her breathing growing heavier.
Is this punishment? Is this torture? Why? She wondered. Why?
The dust has only just begun to fall
Wails pierced the silence in the palace. The maids and servants were excited, the guards were anxious. The king...was patient.
Crop circles in the carpet; sinking, feeling
"Congratulations, your highness! It's a boy! A baby boy!" they exclaimed, overjoyed. She was a horrible mess; locks of sea-blue hair spread untidily over her face, beads of sweat trickled down her fair cheeks and her hand so weak that it was shuddering.
Still, before she departed, she wanted to hold him. Her baby. Her prince. And she did. His skin was like silk; her fingers brushed smoothly against his eyes, then nose, lastly followed by his tiny frail lips.
"Goodbye, my Jellal. Mummy loves you." She closed her eyes.
Spin me round again and rub my eyes
"Your majesty?" The medic inspected closer. She was serenely asleep. Her blue-haired child started to cry.
This can't be happening
"My king, her majesty has..."the king raised a hand before the completion of the sentence. He knew beforehand. And he was ready.
When busy streets, a mess of people would stop to hold their heads heavy
Jellal never knew his mother. He only could imagine her like how the maids described: silky cerulean hair, fair skin and a smile warm as the first rays of daylight. He was a mirrored image of her they often say.
Hide and seek
It was the third anniversary of his mother's departure. He remembered that day. It was pouring. Water dripped from the tips of his hair, seeping into the sleeves of his silk jacket dyed in ebony. Some of his mother's loyal maids were weeping quietly. His father stood by him.
He wasn't crying. He stared ahead, a stone-cold glare embedded on his face.
Trains and sewing machines
All those years they were here first
Her old wedding dress hung in the mahogany closet; its laces and embroidery untouched by the waves of time. Books and scrolls piled orderly on a lonely study desk, dust resting on their frayed edges.
The room brimmed with images and memories of her. Perhaps, that's why, Jellal thought, her room was locked up.
Oily marks appear on walls
Where pleasure moments hung before the takeover
Jellal ran. His little feet carried him into the forest, far from his home, far from those masked strangers armed with swords and knives.
The sweeping insensitivity of this still life
The forest is still, its inhabitants eyeing him with pity and despair. Dead twigs and withered leaves crunched under his footsteps.
Must run! Don't stop! Run! Run!
His leg stumbled on a small stone. His head landed on a big rock. Red was everywhere. Everything was but a blur. The masked men were black figures in a distance, nearing him at every minute.
Goodbye, father. Goodbye, mother.
Hide and seek.
Blood and tears
They were here first
His daily outings had match made him with a number of bizarre occurrences and fascinating miracles. This one though, was the oddest he had come upon. Soaring in the sky gave him a view of five men, dressed shabbily and a helpless, unconscious boy, bleeding profusely from the head.
He is angered. How cruel. He fumed. He is just a child!
Their end was untold, but not a word of that fateful day was ever breathed when the assassins fled, cuts and bruises marked on their limbs.
Mm, what'd you say,
Mm, you only meant well
Gently and carefully, a swathe of white cloth circled the blue-haired boy's skull. Desperate gasps escaped his lips. The Exceed was concerned; he was just a child, he might not make it with such a wound.
What'd you say,
That's all for the best
Pantherlily recognized the child. He was the son to the kingdom's king, rightful heir to the throne, and Prince of the entire of Edolas.
Assasins. He began to realize. Someone sent them to execute the boy. Who?
Bringing him back to the Edolas capital at the moment was unwise. He still needed rest and much recovery.
For now, young prince, bear with me.
What'd you say,
That's just what we need.
The herbs and medicine worked in miraculous yet slow ways. The wounds healed progressively while the boy still lied comatose. He stayed by the boy' side always, and watched him dreamed and breathed.
The nighmares visited frequently. The prince would tossed and turned, then moaned and cried, then softly, longingly whimpered mummy. Pantherlily was aware of her death and wondered if His Majesty had anything to do with it.
Ransom notes kept falling out your mouth,
Mid-sweet talk, newspaper word cut outs
"Lily, you know better that to bring a human to Extalia!"
"It's against the most sacred of all our laws, Lily! You are the Head of the Royal Guards, why did you commit such a disgraceful act?"
"You are hereby banished from Extalia! We give you two days to allow that human to recover fully before you begin your journey."
Those were the elders' words; their instructions, orders and warnings were the law. And it was impossible to evade them.
He was exiled for rescuing a life.
Speak no lies, no, I don't believe you
You don't care a bit
"It's going to be a long day, Prince Jellal," Pantherlily said as he engulfed the boy's small frame in a tattered cloak.
His words elicited no response.
"Prince Jellal?" Pantherlily shifted his vision to the young prince.
You don't care a bit,
You don't care a bit,
You don't care a bit,
Dust and debris scattered in the desert wind; a stream of sandy dots in the horizon. He spotted a vague outline of the palace. His palace.
"I'm coming, Father," his eyes lost in the endless blue above, his gaze soaring for a dream higher than the heavens, his hope to return to a place nonetheless of his origins.
Edolas.
Hide and seek.
Author's note: I'm not sure whether this is good enough to be continued. What with all my homework and upcoming exams, it'll be difficult enough to add more chapters but I'll try my best! Feel free to message me to contribute your original ideas on how to expand this story! Thanks for reading!