Ultear was floating.
There was no ground, no sky, no light, no dark. Only a void.
She couldn't remember when she'd entered such a place or how. The last thing she remembered was making a cup of tea to replenish her strength. Her interference in Wendy and Chelia's battle with that mysterious woman had put quite the strain on her. She briefly wondered if the two girls were alright.
Slowly, she realized that her old, wrinkled body had once again reverted to her younger form. She now donned a white dress with a dip that showed off the middle of her torso. Her shoes had vanished at some point. She held her pale hands in front of her eyes in bewilderment. This was all wrong. Could it be a dream? No, she shook her head, no it couldn't. This floating, weightless sensation was all too familiar. She'd felt it once before - when she'd cast Last Ages to rewind time. Something like this happening just after encountering that woman who had the ability to stop time couldn't be a coincidence, could it?
Ultear floated and pondered her situation. There wasn't much she could do, so there was no use in panicking. She didn't know how long she'd been thinking until she saw a light.
A pinprick white light appeared in the distance, on the "horizon" if you could call it that. Ultear tried to get closer, moving her limbs in a way that emulated swimming, to no avail. The light gradually got brighter and brighter. With it came, the noises. Faint whispers, laughter, birds chirping, electricity crackling, water droplets impacting the ground...It was an endless, growing cacophony of noise. She tried clamping her hands over her ears, but the sound and the light penetrated her very being. Her screams were enveloped in the racket and the light and it was beautiful and it hurt and it was euphoric and torture and-
"You're not supposed to be here."
The snowball exploded on his jacket. His opponent on the other side of the snow fort cheered while their teammates burst into giggles. Still determined to seize victory, he scooped up random handfuls of snow and condensed them into small balls of varying sizes. His teammates snatched up the ammunition and threw with gusto. He ran back and forth down, down and up the perimeter of his base, gathering up as much snow as he could. His heart was thumping in his chest and his breath came out as strained clouds of steam, but the excited grin never left his face.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his friend get hit particularly hard with a snowball that managed to knock her hat off down to the path behind them. He looked at his team again and decided that yeah, they had enough ammo to win, and took off down the path. He spotted the small pink hat and triumphantly kneeled down to grab it. With his fingers only a few inches away, the hat was abruptly blown away by a strong gust of wind out of nowhere. He let out a huff of frustration and chased after the garment.
Finally, when he happened to reach a small clearing between houses, he managed to snatch the hat out of the air. He quickly dusted it off and shoved it in his pocket. He'd been just about to turn and head back to battle when he suddenly got an inexplicable feeling of dread. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and the blood in his veins turned cold as the snow beneath his feet. Something was wrong.
He got the sudden urge to look up at the mountains just North of his little town. The mountains that had always been there, their massive silhouettes standing tall against the pale winter sky and the icy plains around them.
The fear made his movements slow and cumbersome. He managed to look up and turn his head toward the familiar mountains. Today, there was a new silhouette, an unfamiliar form, an unwelcome being. It was coming to kill them, to slaughter them all, to crush and burn scratch and ruin-
The boy blinked and the dark thoughts vanished from his mind. There was nothing there, no new shadow amongst the mountains. Gray Fullbuster let out a sigh of relief and let himself relax. His friend, Annie, called to him from somewhere back down the path, asking if he'd found her hat yet. With that, he shook off the brief chill that ran through him and ran back to his friends.
Lucy Heartfelia was impatient. It had been ages since her mother had sat her down and told her to wait in this parlor room. While it had her usual toys and books, she couldn't be bothered to play with them at the moment. Right now, her mother was of something called "labor". At least, that's what she could discern from the servants' frantic yet excited whispers. Just before this, her mother had explained that "labor" was something she had to go through in order for Lucy to meet her little sister. When she'd asked her how her little sister had gotten inside of her mother in the first place, her mother had gone pale and told her that it was a secret for adults. So silly.
In any case, Lucy was ready to meet her little sister already and this "labor" thing was taking way too long. With a huff, she decided that she'd simply march into her mother's room and wait there to meet her sibling instead. Right as she went to grab the door handle, the door suddenly swung open. Lucy quickly scrambled backwards and desperately tried to not look guilty. To her surprise, it wasn't a servant or her father who slipped into the room, but a young girl.
She looked to be about her age with short green hair and big brown eyes that didn't seem able to look anywhere but the floor. Lucy couldn't help but gawk at the weird...horn... things on the girl's head. The girl seemed to sense her staring and glanced up hesitantly. "Um, these aren't...these aren't horns, if you were wondering," she said quietly. Lucy nodded, but kept her eyes glued to the not-horns-horns on the girl's head. "Who are you?" she asked. She couldn't recall ever seeing someone like that around the manor before. The girl shuffled her feet nervously. "I'm...My name is Brandish. My mom is, um, friends with your mom so we came to visit," the girl said. Well, that made sense, Lucy figured. Her mother, kind and gentle as she was, had many friends of all kinds. It wasn't unusual for her to invite guests over or leave on day trips with acquaintances who happened to stop by.
Lucy smiled and eagerly grabbed Brandish's hands. The other girl looked up in surprise. "It's nice to meet you, Brandish! My name is Lucy and we're gonna be best friends from now on," she declared cheerfully. Brandish looked taken aback. "B-Best friends? Isn't it kind of soon for something like that?" she sputtered. Lucy's smile brightened. "Nope! Mom's friend's don't really have kids my age, so who knows when I'll get this chance again. To have a cute friend who's close enough to visit is a miracle for me," she said.
A faint dusting of pink appeared on Brandish's cheeks. "C-cute?" she squeaked. Lucy, suddenly remembering her earlier resolve, grabbed Brandish's hand and dragged her out of the room and down the hall to her mother's room. Shushing Brandish's concerns, she pushed the door open and waltzed inside. The servants were huddling around the large bed in the center of the room. Somehow, her mother saw her through the gaps in personnel. "Lucy? Come here for a minute, would you? There's someone I want you to meet," she called.
Releasing her grip on her new friend's hand, Lucy raced to the bed and peered at the bundle in her mother's arms. "Is that…?'
Her mother smiled softly. "Yes. Lucy, this is your little sister, Michelle. Take care of her from now on, okay?"
"Be at peace...I will...I will protect you."
Irene grit her teeth and gingerly touched her navel. Her unborn child would be protected, no matter what. No longer how long she had to wait, she refused to bring life into this dirty, dark cell.
The sound of metal clanking brought her eyes to rest on her cell door. Her eyes widened. For the first time in weeks, the door was open. In the doorway stood her husband, Rung. He sneered down at her. While she'd long gotten accustomed to the disgust and hatred in his eyes, the intensity of it still made her want to shiver.
"Dragon woman! The date of your execution has been determined."
Irene felt sickened. "I beg of you...Please...just spare the life of our child…" she whimpered. Rung stalked into the cell, still glaring. "I've had enough of this nonsense. What child takes more than three years to be born?!" he boomed. She understood his incredulousness at the situation. After all, she herself had never seen anything like it and she certainly hadn't tried it before. But even so…
"I used my magic...to delay the birth...I can't have my child in this dungeon!"
Everyday, she woke up still surprised that the enchantment was still intact. She could only hope that the child would be unharmed.
Something changed in her husband's eyes. Irene reeled back. There was a madness, a frantic madness in the anger in his eyes. He unsheathed his sword. "There is no child!" he cried.
Irene desperately tried to crawl away, but the lack of food or water had drained her strength. Quickly giving up on fleeing, she elected to try and protect herself instead, throwing her hands in front of her face and torso.
"You want to see?! I'll split your belly in two and prove it!"
Rung's voice had taken on a hysterical edge as he raised the sword above his head.
"No! Stop! I beg of you!" Irene cried. She felt the sword slice into her flesh and she cried out in pain.
No matter what the cost, she would fulfill her duty as a mother and keep the child safe. No matter what…
"Y-You monster!"
No matter what….
"A dragon?!"
Irene roared in despair as she destroyed the cell, her husband, her last hope of returning to her old life. Her enormous wings let her glide away from everything and into nothing. She screamed into the open air.
"I am human! I am a human being!"
She screamed at her repulsive, scaled body.
"I never asked for this body! I want my human body back!"
She screamed at her talons, her razor sharp teeth, her inhuman womb that still held her child.
"Somebody...help me…"
She flew, she ate, she slept, she cried. Day after day, lumbering about in her massive body, she grieved for the child she could never have, for her kingdom she'd been forced to abandon. Sometimes, she even grieved for her husband, mad as he became near his end. Day after day, she hoped and prayed for something, someone to fix her, to save her from this hell. Days, weeks, months, years, decades passed. With every day, she hoped a little less. She shed fewer tears. She flew mindlessly just a little longer.
Eventually, Irene stopped thinking.
"Everything is finally how it should be."
"..."
"I'm sorry, Mavis."
Author's Note: Yeah, so this is just going to be a series of...dabbling, basically. Think of it as an anthology, sort of. Lots of jumping around.