Lucy watched the line of angels.
It was unlike the peaceful angels humans imaged them as. They were wounded, broken, and scared. Scared is not something ever thought of by the human race to exist on the face of the angel, but it is so very common.
Angels are not completely fragile though, despite their looks. They are known to be vicious, unrelenting warriors, that can bring fear to the face of almost any enemy. With powerful cunning skills, many enemies surrender at just the line of pure strength the Angels can put up.
But not the creatures of the underworld.
They put the name of Angels to shame, the mighty stories and tales washed away in a single battle. The dragon Acnologia swept them out, stepping on them and killing them as caring as if he was stepping on pebbles. He did not speak a word, for anything with that much power feels as if something as puny of that of an angel has no importance.
And so fear struck the faces of the angels.
The wounded walked in a trance, the only thing keeping them in the right direction were the feet of ones in front of them. The leader was incredibly wounded, and the shock was clearly read on his face still, though it had been hours since they had been nearly obliterated. He stumbled with each step, almost like the creatures were still ringing in his head and tripping him, and with each mistaken step, it was like he was cringing at their laughter.
They had many wounds, scratches and bites mostly, from the creatures of the underworld. Those who faced Acnologia did not live, none. If you faced him, it was immediate death.
So Lucy watched, and rumors came to her ears. That of these creatures, with claws and wings and fangs. She would cover her ears and bring her scarf to her face, still unable to face what was inevitably the truth. So she snuck away during the procession.
She sat under a large, towering oak tree, with big branches that hung down and seemed to try to hug her. Levy and her had been playing here since their childhood, and it was a comforting spot. She could also watch the soldiers process in from the gates, a tenth of who set out. She held that scarf to her face, smelling the deep musky smell that hung over it, since how old it was. But deep, still a small hint left, was a soft cinnamon smell.
The scent of the dragon boy.
"Lucy!" Her small blue headed friend was bobbing up the hill, her usual bright smile wide on her face as she made her way closer.
"Hey Levy," Lucy waved unenthusiastically, pulling down the scarf and letting it hang around her neck limply
"Why so down, Luce?" Levy asked, though she should be down herself. But the death of the soldiers did not seemed to bug the happy girl much at all.
She waved it off quickly, "Oh its nothing, just some silly thoughts," playing a bit with the white cloth.
Levy looked down at her, her attention going to the accessory, "Hey, where'd you get that anyways? You've had it forever but no one seems to sell cloth like that here."
Lucy shrugged and looked away quickly.
Levy leaned down and touched it, "It has a weird feeling to it.. almost kind of musky. Wait.. I think I read about this somewhere.. hmm" She had become lost in thought, and Lucy directed her attention to her face once more.
Lucy sniffed the musky smell again, always looking for the small amount of cinnamon.
"No.. it couldn't have been that." Levy seemed perplexed, "Its like this cotton ive heard of, it comes from a special white plant, but it can only grow in the heat of the underworld, and usually only demons have it."
Lucy cringed a bit, looking away, burying her face in the white, warm cloth. She didn't Levy to know, but she could see she wasn't getting away with it this time.
"Lucy you didn't!" Levy took a fistful of the scarf, and started to try to pull it off Lucy's neck, "It could be cursed for all we know!"
Lucy slapped her hand away, "Stop it! He saved your life! He left it next to you after you were left unconscious by me when we were little!" Holding the scarf tightly in her hand, unwilling to give it up.
Levy spoke out loudly "Its dangerous Lucy! The demons are all the same! What if you get hurt!" She reached out as if to take it again.
Lucy turned away and slapped her hand again, "No Levy! Just leave me alone!" She cried to her, extremely hurt for her inability to understand her.
"Whatever Lucy." Levy turned away, her back facing Lucy as she walked away, "but dont come near me with that thing." She spat out the last word violently as her image cleared from Lucy's sight.
In tears, Lucy shoo. She maybe just lost her best friend for the remembrance of the dragon boy. She didn't even know the boys name!
But still, in her memories, she could remember the look on his face. She saw no evil, hatred, or disgust in his gaze. She saw warm, caring feelings, and his fangs did not bare at her in growl, nor his claws in a threatening stance. No, he just compassionately healed her friend, right before her eyes. And he fled at her presence, did not face it. She didn't see any hate it him, or anything to hate. All demons cant be the same..
He couldn't have been evil..
