Foreword: So, for those of you who remember—all three of you, I want to say—I wrote a story titled "The Firelights of Summer" in 2014. I was thirteen or fourteen, and while I don't spontaneously combust while simultaneously shedding my skin when rereading it, it's still not something I look back on proudly. So, in manner of rectification, I went back and rewrote the story. Not totally; the old document was used as a skeleton because I don't think every single idea I had was total garbage. I can say with certainty that this is the much better version of the story, although I will leave the old version up until I deem it entirely detrimental to my progression as a writer. The point of this is to retell the story with my skills over the last six years, and hopefully provide a better experience to whomever remembers it in its not-so-glorious condition. So thank you for reading this note, and I hope you enjoy what's beyond.
Chapter 1: Ab Origine
"Natsu," Wendy said softly into the pervasive darkness, "tell me the story again."
I've told this story many, many times, Natsu thought, but didn't say aloud. How could he blame her? There was little else to do aside from talk, aside from sitting and shitting and waiting for death. And he sure wasn't going to point that out to her; Gajeel, maybe, but not her. So he cleared his throat, sat back on the eons-worn futon with his back to the rough concrete, and told the story anew.
"Long before humans existed, there were dragons. Dragons as far as the eye could see, of all shapes and colors and sizes. They filled the air, the seas, the grassy plains and the deep jungles. The hottest volcanos and the rancid bogs. We were the top of the food chain, the primogenital kings of this world. No other animal could hold a candle to us.
"Slowly, from the mud humans rose. Clumsy, inefficient creatures incapable of speech, of medicine, very few with the gift and less who knew how to use it. However, dragons live a long time, and in that time we saw them grow. A slog for sure, their progress was infinitesimally slow, but eventually they learned the most basic of magics: earth, air, fire, water. These were magics intended for their survival—fire to warm them through the cold winters; earth to till the ground for farming; air to purify the sulfurous atmosphere around the bogs; water to give them drinks. We watched, not interfering but observing, watching, waiting…
"Then came the signature of the humans' presence: they began to fight. As civilization advanced and magic grew stronger, they broke into groups. These groups soon began to quarrel, quarrels which grew into large scale fights. Again, we were content to wait, but their fights were infringing upon our lands, and we moved to protect our own. The humans suddenly became oblivious to their own mistakes and took our defense as an act of war. Thus, the Dragon War began its centuries-long course."
Natsu cleared his throat and let the silence weigh down on them. He always told the story as Igneel had before him, but he could not pretend that he hadn't a bit of emotional investment in it. Wendy quietly asked him to continue, so he did.
"Some time into this war, one of our own did something that changed the entire course: he taught a woman our magic. This woman went on to become the first Dragon Slayer." He sighed and bowed his head. "I won't condone what our brethren have done in this war. Just as the humans have gone too far, so have we at times. But this…the Dragon Slayer Magic changed the tides completely, for within mere weeks, our people were cast from the skies and left never to see the light of day again.
"Many of our brothers and sisters were slaughtered until few remained. The most weakened were captured by the kingdom of Ishgal, giving the others a chance to escape. Injured as they were, they were not long for this world, and on his dying breath, Igneel left me these parting words."
"Never forget yourself, Natsu."
"D…Daddy…?"
"I won't be there for the rest of your…urk…journey, but remember this tale for the generations to come…"
He swallowed back a sudden surge of emotion and focused on Wendy's shallow breathing. Good, the youngling had fallen asleep. Gajeel's breathing, on the other hand, was coarse as ever.
"Don't ya get sick a telling the same shit time and time again?" he asked, keeping his voice low as not to wake her. Natsu snorted.
"It's for Wendy. That's what matters."
"Yeah, well I'm sick of it."
Natsu ignored him. Nothing would come of picking a fight, and besides, footsteps were approaching. A shadow passed in the walkway between cells; Natsu poised himself, and when a hand reached in, he leapt ahead with claws out. A burning pain lanced through his palm and he bit his tongue hard enough to draw blood; he wasn't going to give the bastard pleasure in hearing him scream.
"You're a hundred years late to catch me, lizard breath." Gray Fullbuster tilted his arm back, recalling his icy harpoon and leaving a bloody trail in its wake. Natsu clenched his injured hand to staunch the blood flow and hide the severity. It wasn't a very large hole, but he was poked straight through.
"We'll see about that," was his only response. Gray snorted and kicked a tray through the small slit at the bottom of the bars. The wooden bowls of thin broth and water sloshed over the sides when the tray collided with the stone wall. Natsu wished he could channel fire through his eyes as he watched Gray place a tray in Gajeel's cell, then Wendy's. He walked past Natsu's cell, and the two exchanged glares before he went back up the stairs. There was a brief period of silence before a metallic crunch filled the air.
"So, Dragneel," Gajeel said through a mouthful of tray, "how'd that sneak attack work out fer ya?"
"Shut your trap." The hole would heal itself in time thanks to his magic, but he had to be mindful not to get it dirty. He scowled and balled up his fist. With a dragon's scales, he didn't have to worry about anything but the most grievous injuries, but in addition to severely handicapping their magic, their restraints kept them restricted to a human form. Weak, fragile human form.
"I wish I could help," Wendy rasped. Natsu's frustration melted into exhaustion and he slumped back into the cold wall.
"I wish we could be doing anything besides sitting here and waiting for that joke of a king to decide we're not useful anymore."
Natsu didn't know what they were supposed to be useful for, but he had a good guess.
When he was younger, many years ago, he and Gajeel were often thrown in with the guards. Wendy was a hatchling and too young to control her magic, so it was just those two. It was long before Gray had been born and long before Jude took the crown. Though a dragon's magic was a sight to behold, Natsu was an inexperienced child with a dead father who could not teach him, and he was soundly thrashed until the guards had their piece and returned him, battered and bruised, to the dungeons. It went on several times a week, and at first he thought it was all about appeasing their human bloodthirst, but no. After about two months of that, there came lessons, if you could call them such. It was there that the dragons learned human tongue, although the language had long since gone out of common use, and along with language came other frivolities as Natsu perceived them. Things like Ishgal's—that was the country they resided in, Ishgal, as it was in the human language—glorifying their warmongering efforts, culture and figures and the like. All that took up a couple of hours; the real meat of this affair was training. A group of odd ones, one of which Yuriy Dreyar, and they took it upon themselves to not only beat the shit out of Gajeel and Natsu, but instruct them in the process.
No one ever said so directly, but him and Gajeel could put their heads together in private and figure the kingdom expected the dragons to grow up and wear their stupid white coats and be perfect chess pieces (yet another bit of useless human knowledge). Soon after the realization, the two of them used their newfound knowledge of combat and combat magic to kick up such a major fuss that the kingdom swiftly dropped the matter altogether. So was the last time Natsu had been upstairs, and at this point it was several decades ago.
Nowadays Natsu had no clue why the king continued to keep them alive. They were much too old to be inculcated or whatever and Wendy's magic was not so suited for combat. It sometimes seemed like a game, waiting to see who broke first.
Natsu was awoken by Wendy's quiet moans. He pressed himself as far into the bars of his cells he could, trying to peek into hers, but he couldn't see past the veil of shadows. "Wendy, are you alright?"
"Hurts…so much…" She reached one arm out to grasp the bars and Natsu understood. Chunks of her pale skin were peeling away, and through the red and inflamed remains were patches of bluish-white scales. Her fingernails were cracked and bleeding to allow larger claws through. He frowned and Gajeel sighed.
"It's what happens when you turn thirteen," he said. "Your body is mature enough to handle much more magic. It's trying to force you into dragon form. Both of us have been through it and the pain will pass eventually."
But why? Natsu's voice rang through his head like a scream. Why are we subjected to this pain and infringement on who we are? What did we do? But as always, the question had one answer: they were born dragons. Their crime was being something other than human.
"Those wicked humans," Natsu grumbled. "They don't even know the agony we're in."
"Would they care?" Gajeel retorted with a snort. Natsu was about to growl a retort, then he froze when he mulled the statement over.
"They have to," he said. "They've kept us alive so far, our lives must matter for whatever reason. If they don't want to kill us, then it matters if we're, say, sick enough to keel over."
"What are ya getting at?" Gajeel said, inching forward enough to where Natsu could see his raised brow. Natsu stared at his arms, smooth and tanned human skin, and clenched his fist. The skin slowly turned red and cracked before peeling away, baring bloodstained red scales. He gritted his teeth against the pain as blood dripped to the concrete below.
"Make them think we're dying," he ground out. "That's how we'll get out of this dungeon."
"And out of the castle?" he asked dryly.
"We'll figure that out when we're topside."
"Of course. Can't expect ya to have a real plan, Dragneel."
"At least I have something, boltface. Think you can take a little pain?"
"To prove ya wrong? 'course." Natsu ignored that.
This is our ticket out, he thought. And no matter what Gajeel thinks, I'll use it. I'll get us all free.