Still don't own Mashima's Fairy Tail or Desna's Pradeshes. Or anything else for that matter. I rent.
Reviews are always welcome and make me feel pretty. Enjoy.
Surprisingly smooth mahogany hair, sun-streaked, and well kept hung to his hips. His wrists, ankles, and neck were collared with magic canceling cuffs that weren't entirely working. Lucy, still in awe that the door had been unlocked, felt the magic pulsing off him. The magic pressure was intoxicating and causing her whole body to thrum. She knew she needed to keep her distance, so rather than running to the man like every fiber of her being was screaming at her to do, she lingered in the doorway, trying to draw a full breath. The man's head hung as he kneeled, but seeming to feel her gaze on him, he looked up with sharp purple eyes and met her golden-brown gaze. She visibly shuddered, making Cristoff frown.
He knew that the pull would exist, but he hadn't realized that even a mated Celestial wizard would be so heavily impacted, feeling the intensity seeping through their mating bond. Cris felt a possessive growl rise in his throat before he could bite it back. She was his mate; his. Cristoff crossed the room to the shackled, kneeling man, shaking himself mentally, his heart pounding. "Zen," he started gently as massive black wings snapped out to defend their owner. "My name is Cristoff Pradesh. This is my mate and wife Lucy. We are here to bring you home."
Zen's purple gaze never left Lucy as he rose to his feet and stood eye to eye with his brother. He rose to stand on firm, muscular legs, each movement accentuating the thinness of the strapping man. The clan tattoo of an eagle that covered the right side of his ribcage seemed to move on its own. The black wings on his back folded down into a non-threatening position and he managed to pull his eyes off Lucy for the first time since she had appeared in the doorway. "Keep her away from me," he stated flatly to his brother, meeting the man's midnight blue gaze, as Cristoff closed the distance between them and began to remove the cuffs attempting and failing to reduce his brother's magic.
He had had this same dream so many times. The owners had taunted him for years with his family. He knew who Cristoff was. He knew what all of his siblings looked like, committing their faces to memory when magazines had been thrown in his face again and again. He had never dared to dream that he would be standing in front of one of them, close enough to feel their breath on his skin. Cristoff smelled faintly of mint, soothing Zen's instincts. A soft lilt reshaped Zen's full lips, almost forming a smile. This was happening. His brother and his wife were there to claim him and bring him home. Home.
Cristoff's nimble fingers slid over iron clasps, releasing his brother's neck first. "She knows not to come near you," he answered, trying to keep his tone gentle. Cristoff seemed to have an endless capacity for compassion, patience, and gentleness. But when it came to Lucy, that capacity was halved. And when he felt anything even resembling a threat to their bond, such as an Archangel pull, those qualities that he prided himself on were diminished to almost a negative degree. Worse than just knowing it was happening, he could feel it in his very bones.
The tension rose in the room as the cuffs were removed from Zen's neck, then wrists, and ankles creating a stronger pull to his mate and discomfort in Cristoff. A sudden pulse of magical energy swept the room, the energy oppressive, making it difficult to draw breath. Lucy gasped as her eyes shone a brilliant gold and she struggled for air. She couldn't bring herself to stay in the room, opting to round the corner of the doorway and leave the room, aching for distance.
Back in the makeshift hallway that was the space outside the cells, Lucy saw dozens of people running all over the mock courtyard. Some were running for the staircase, desperate to get out of the pits altogether. Others were exacting their revenge on their captors, some going so far as to begin tearing the owners and attendants apart with their bare hands. She felt her breath stop in her chest as a burly man was pushed over the rail from above in front of her, screaming as he fell. This had been their goal, but watching it happen was something else entirely. This, she thought, is what revolt looks like. Catching sight of a pink-haired maid tying a man to a post and a black-haired man with red streaks in his hair popping in and out of the shadows, Lucy donned her Leo star dress, preparing to join her spirits in the fray.
Quiet conversation was coming out of the room behind her, barely audible over the chaos in the cell block. "Let's go. Father is waiting," she heard her husband's voice say. There was no reply, but seconds later, Cristoff appeared at her elbow, Zen keeping a respectable distance behind him. He raised an eyebrow at the woman in front of his brother, Celestial mage, his sister-in-law as he took her in. Like any other Celestial mage, she was beautiful. It was no secret the Celestial Spirit King had a soft spot for lovely women. The beauty of the stars was always given to their kind of magic, but there was something different about her that he couldn't put his finger on. He sensed something different. Perhaps it was the bond with his Dragon Slayer brother.
"Let's move," Cristoff's voice wove through the noise.
They needed to get back upstairs, but they also needed to avoid the throngs of people fighting and trying to escape. Then he saw it; A sliver of moonlight against the railing. "Lucy," she felt him settle into determination in their bond. Instinctively, she placed her hand on his shoulder, seeing Zen doing the same. Placing his hand in the sliver of light provided by the platform to the area, with a wisp of mint-scented magic, they were back in the atrium. Zen's wings snapped out to their full span, watching the people pouring from the stands. A nobleman, whom Zen recognized as a rapist, a murderer, and overall scumbag, was brutally and without hesitation pierced through the chest by razor-sharp feathers. The nobleman crumpled, gurgling and drowning in his blood. But Zen's face remained stoic, the only indication that he had registered the action at all was the flames that burned in his purple eyes.
Another flare of his wings and three more men and women went sailing into the crowd, knocking them and several people in the nearest group of people back. Lucy swung her hand toward the crowd and released a Regulus attack before calling on Cancer's power to take on his star dress. Twin blades appeared in her hands as she saw a familiar pink haired wrecking ball coming barrelling down the stairs toward them. "Natsu!" Lucy shouted, the dragon slayer shoving people out of his way. "We need more time to get them clear!" he replied, skidding to a halt in front of her. "This him?" he asked, nodding toward Zen. Lucy nodded, watching the man move. It was enthralling. Every move, his muscles corded and moved visibly. Every attack was flawless and wasted no energy.
Lucy had seen Vander fight, even trained with him some. And she considered Zen a potentially formidable opponent for the Shadowquip. Every move he made was deadly.
The pull yanked at her chest again, making her shudder. She needed more distance from the man. Turning on her heel, she hurried out the front door of the colosseum and found herself confronted with medium-sized fires, smoke, the smell of blood, and the din of fighting. Peregrande was mobilizing their defenses. A flare of blinding sunlight streaked in front of her and Lucy turned to its source.
Emzadi lowered her hands from her mouth, pulled into a plump, blood-red scowl. Her blonde waves billowed down her back and her tanned skin seemed to glow in the dark. Watching the Solar Dragon Slayer was truly a sight to behold. "Kaleb!" Lucy shouted the thought through the family channel. "Lucy. Status?" he replied. "We have him."
"Thaine will be arriving in a moment, get him ready to transport."
Lucy turned back to the open doors and pushed through the bond. Cristoff felt her and found her just outside the door frame. She nodded, knowing he had heard the conversation. "Zen!" he shouted, ducking under a swinging wing and entering his brother's space. "You're being transported. This is an extraction. You've fought enough," he said firmly, watching his brother's full lips form a frown. Zen didn't want to leave. He had as much reason as every slave here to hate these people.
Thaine appeared beside Lucy, using her as a beacon for location. "Let's get you aboard," he said, reaching for her hand. Lucy's brows furrowed in confusion. She wasn't leaving. "Call him off. I'm not leaving without Cris and the rest of our family," she pushed through the mental channel again. Thaine listened to Kaleb's mental order with a small shrug and nodded to her as Cristoff and Zen strode quickly down the low stairs to join them. "This is Thaine, he's going to get you to the airship. Our father is there waiting for you," Cristoff said, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder.
With a weary look, Zen stepped into Thaine's space, resting his hand on the man's shoulder. The two of them disappeared in a whirl of air and magic.
Kaleb's voice rang out across the mental channel he shared with all of the mages at his command. "Stage three complete. End it." The normally warm voice was saturated with ice as it resounded through 200 minds. A few pockets of the city blew at once, acknowledging the command.
A few blood-soaked and brutal moments later, an animalistic roar erupted from within the colosseum and was answered in kind by Emzadi. The noise was deafening. "Skyreach D, mobilize."
The order had all the mages that specialized in destruction storming into the building, which meant one thing; The slaves were clear and it was time for the final stage of their plan. Lucy snatched Cristoff's hand into her own and pulled him, trying to get them as far from the impending destruction as possible. She was all too familiar with how effective Natsu and Emzadi were. Evergreen, Wendy, and Gray joined them as the first massive explosion rocked the building, a plume of dust and smoke rising into the air. Gray tackled Wendy and Evergreen to the ground in an attempt to protect them from the blast. The explosion's pressure pushed into their backs, shoving them off their feet.
Lucy and Cristoff felt their hands part as they were flung forward, both registering minor pain through their bond. She landed on her hands and knees, skidding slightly causing deep scrapes on her palms where the cobblestone street had made contact. Cristoff landed and rolled, landing on his back as his head hit the stone beneath it. He groaned for a moment, pushing his magic to the back of his head and blinked a few times before springing to his mate's side. He pushed his magic into her, examining her whole body. He quickly healed the scrapes, the worst of the bruises and checked her over again. With a breath of relief, he thanked the Immaculate Light that it had been nothing serious. He helped his wife to her feet in time for another shockwave shook the street.
Cristoff yanked himself and his wife out of the shock by swinging into an alley and pressing his back into the wall. He saw soldiers fly by the opening to the street and sighed, resting his chin on top of Lucy's head. It was then he heard a shrill cackle ring out from just up ahead. The sound made a shudder run through Lucy and in turn, Cristoff. They stepped out of the alley and looked down to find a slight man with dark, messy hair, a manic grin on his face cackling. "They make a nice boom," he gasped through peels of laughter. "But so do I." His head dropped to his right shoulder and his grin widened.
Purple threads of magic formed in the mage's palms, warping and wrapping themselves into spheres. His cackling resumed as the spheres grew to engulf his hands, Cristoff pulling Lucy to his body. The mage joined the spheres, melding them into one large, pulsing force. "Heh," he grunted out before the purple light disappeared from his hands and a flash filled their eyes.
Cristoff yanked Lucy to him tighter, turning so that he was between her and the blast. He felt a pain in his middle back as he transported them two city blocks away. The only thought he could manage was to get his mate out of harm's way. They landed in a tangle and Cristoff looked up at Lucy's face. My love, he thought, pushing the thought through their bond before the world went black. Lucy's head was searing, blood sliding down her temple from the side of her head. She felt the love Cristoff pushed through the bond and then... nothing.
His love, his warmth, his strength; in a moment it was all gone. Her brown eyes grew as wide as a cold void touched her soul where he had been. She looked into his face, his eyes open and empty and her eyes slid down his body. What was left was his chest up. The rest of him was gone. A few ragged breaths pumped through her airway. Tears welled in her eyes, streaking her dirty face. Reality hit her all at once. He was gone. Her love, her light was gone. Shaking visibly, she was left holding half of his corpse in the middle of a street. And at that moment, her head fell back, a primal roar of grief leaving her mouth, burning her throat. Her soul was in tatters, a part of her died with him, leaving a gaping hole where he had fit only moments before.
Unable to pinpoint it because of the pain, she heard her name as she wailed again, the pain in her chest getting worse with every passing moment. Then there was nothing but gold. She sobbed, holding Cristoff and felt the gates of the Celestial realm open around her, her spirits' warmth surrounding her, Leo kneeling to cradle her against his chest. She thought for a second that she saw Vander, as she slumped out of Leo's caring embrace and onto the chest of her lost love.
"Gods, Kaleb, it's Cristoff. He's… he's dead."
It felt like a pike had been driven into the chest of each member of the Pradesh family. "How can he be dead? He's a fucking healer." Bix asked, begging for his brother to be somehow wrong. "No." Their father's whisper filled their minds. Arman hit his knees on the deck of the airship. He lost the ability to breathe, the ability to think, his mind racing and numb at the same time.
Amidst the explosions around the city, the stink of battle, Arman felt the deep, guttural pain of loss rip through his entire being and a massive hole open in his heart.
A/N:
Day off work meant editing. So I know this might be a little frustrating. Bear with me. I'm working on the next chapter before this one is even posted. Promise. -crosses heart-
Thanks to everyone who is reading and a great fucking big thank you to those of you reviewing, favoriting and following. I can't tell you how much it encourages me to keep writing seeing people engaging with the story.