This story will be taken after the manga for the most part, so apologies to the anime fans. However, there will be anime moments as well for scenes that don't exist in the manga and/or dialog that I have preferences of from the anime. I decided to write this story as I haven't seen Erza interpreted this way before and I thought it might be interesting.
Time, flashbacks/memories, & dreams
Constructive criticism is appreciated.
Water. Small, gentle waves rushing over my back and up to my face. Freckles of sand cling to my body as it lies on the soft, squishy surface. Light. It burns my eye. The wet ground below gives way underneath the palms that desperately try to support my weight. It's a difficult task, but my chest does eventually rise from the floor. Soon enough, my form leaves the cool waves of the ocean. Breaking free of the water, wobbling legs can only carry the rest so far. Knees hitting the much hotter sand than its mud-like brother, the strength to keep going is non-existent. The heated ground breaks away from my tightening grip. My head raised towards the sky; a wail escapes my throat. Tears sliding down my cheeks and chin, dripping onto the sand below. I'm unsure how much time passes, how long I'm left a sobbing wreck. The boy I looked up to for so long betrayed me. He attacked and hurt me. Threw my body into the ocean to drown, like I never meant a thing. Grandpa Rob, he gave his life for my own. Why? What was the point in all this if Jellal was just going to make everyone keep building the Tower?! What did those monsters do to him?! Why?!
The question finds itself repeating in my head over and over as my fist slams into the beach not once, not twice, but six separate times. My forehead feels the burning sand on it as shivers move throughout my body. Everyone is doomed to suffer. Doomed to stay on that horrible island... and I can't do a single thing about it. I can't warn them, I can't go back. If I do... he'll kill the last of the only family I've ever had. I can feel a burst of energy flow through me. My fist clenches once more. I have to control this power. I need to become strong. I must save them. What has to be done, my stomach can't bear the thought.
Jellal has to go down.
Pushing myself up once more, a newfound determination takes ahold. Fairy Tail, the place that Grandpa Rob told me about, I have to find it. Forcing each step, my feet trudge through the sand until an old feeling that was nearly forgotten buries its way between my toes. Who knew that grass could feel so wonderful? Minutes turn to hours, and the hours painfully turn to days. After nearly being mauled by a monster on the first night, I switched to climbing trees. However, it's caused a real pain for my back... though I suppose I shouldn't be complaining. I've been through much worse. Sunlight shines through the branches once more, signaling the start of the third day. Each limb of the tree leaves a rough feeling on my skin, but the green earth is a much more welcome presence to my feet. What seems like hours pass before the sounds of wheels rotating on a road reach my ears. Concrete is a more unpleasant feeling than dirt. My head turns from right to left, trying to find the best choice. However, it's there's not a single thing to help me in sight. Even the horses have gone. Sighing, my body makes the unconscious decision to turn right.
Throughout my walk, a handful of other carriages pass on by, not even bothering to offer to help such a filthy child. Finally, a sign! Excitement flows through me as the wind fights my hair. My gaze rises upward. Magnolia, the town Grandpa Rob spoke so fondly of, home of those he considered to be his family... is in the opposite direction. Dumbfounded, I'm unsure exactly how long I stand there. Nodding my head ever so slightly, I acknowledge my defeat and head back the way I came. Something different happens this time however. As I'm walking on the street, a carriage actually stops in front of me. My heart drops as the door opens. A man steps out, keeping his distance, but asking if I would like a ride. A shake of my head, and the man reenters his vehicle. Then, he does something that I never would have expected. He comes back out, a sling of food in his hands. Telling me to take it, the man offers some water as well. Upon his departure, he leaves the bag with me.
Another day passes by before my tired eye fills with the sight of Magnolia Town. Heart pounding in my chest, my legs carry me towards my goal. The gazes of all these different people consume me, my body unable to stop itself from shaking. And then, my journey comes to an end. Fairy Tail, Grandpa Rob's home, rests right in front of me. Flag blowing in the gentle breeze, it has the same mark that he had tattooed upon his back. Taking a deep breath, my feet are forced forward. A series of chatter reaches my ears as the door lies inches ahead. Wood touches my palms before parting away for me. The lively voices are silenced, reduced to hushes and whispers. Doing my best to ignore it, my body stops to take in the scene. Men, women, and children sit around wooden tables and chairs. The scent of alcohol is strong. Movement out of the corner of my eye. Turning my head, I come to find a small, old man coming to greet me.
"Hello, child." he says, the tone of his voice welcoming. Then, it takes on a more worried sound as his form gets closer. Must have noticed the cuts. "Are you alright, dear?"
Mustering up all my courage, my voice sounds much more tired than I mean it to. "Is Mr. Mak... Makirave? Is he here?"
This seems to get a chuckle from him. "This is he."
A sigh of relief. "I would like to join the guild."
Something shines in his eye. Is it curiosity? Or something else? "Do you now? Well, come with me and we'll see what we can do."
With that, the old man turns away, walking up a staircase. The feeling of watchful eyes has me nearly run behind him. His small form disappears behind a door on the right, and after following him inside, his voice fills the air once more.
"Do me a favor and close the door behind you, would ya? These kids don't understand the definition of 'privacy.'"
Slowly nodding, I do as I'm told before facing the man once more, my posture straight and the feeling of my hands in one another in front of my body.
Sitting in a chair behind a desk, he states "There's no need for that, please, have a seat." while gesturing to the chair across from him.
Once more, my body complies and my head slightly lowers to the ground, unable to meet his eyes. My throat can barely get the words out.
"I-I'm sorry."
However, the master hears my quiet apology. "Sorry? What is there to be sorry for?"
"He..." The warmth of tears as the words die in my breath. I have to fight to push them out. "He died... because of me."
Silence. It feels like forever. And then, his hushed voice reaches my ears again. "Who died?"
It doesn't come off as malicious, and it doesn't show as an accusation. It sounds more like sadness.
The name feels wrong on my tongue, like it refuses to believe that he's gone... and that it's unworthy to speak his name. "Grandpa Rob. He told me about this place, about how much it meant to him."
"I see..."
Those are the only words to come from the man. As the silence endures, my gaze finds itself wandering to the poor soul. He's trying so hard to appear strong, but I know those eyes. I just cried those tears myself not too long ago.
A sniff escapes him. "If it's alright with you, may I ask how it is that he left this world?"
My head falls once more, the fabric of my torn dress crumples in-between my fingers. "We... we were surrounded by some bad people and he..." A sniff flees from me now. "H-he took a blow that was meant for me. If I hadn't... then he never would have..."
Warmth surrounds me as my body suddenly finds itself in the arms of the old man. Sobs choke out of my lungs, while silent tears from his eyes drip onto my shoulder. It's unknown to me how much time passes before the master steps back.
Wiping his eyes with his sleeve, he asks "What is your name, child?"
"Erza." comes my reply. "Erza Sc..."
Jellal's smiling face flashes in my mind. My scarlet red hair in his hand.
It's the only given name I've ever had. Jellal may have betrayed me, betrayed everyone, but there is nothing else that I would rather be called. The name gave me comfort then, and it will continue to do so now. "Erza Scarlet."
"It's nice to meet you, Erza." The words seem genuine, and a smile forms underneath his mustache; but I know that it has to be forced at this point. "Tell me, what magic do you possess?"
Magic? I... "I... don't know."
This doesn't seem to deter him. "Can you explain it then?"
"W-well I... the swords levitated and... killed the people who attacked us."
His eyes seem to harden at that. "I see. Was this your first time using it?"
Nervous about the outcome of this, my head slowly bobs.
"Very well. We will have to teach you to control this power."
Wait. Does that mean...?!
Apparently seeing the question on my face, he answers. "Yes, welcome to Fairy Tail."
Facing him in his own seat once more, I'm asked to write down my name, age, and names of parents or guardians as I am only eleven years old. My hand freezes when I think about parents. What do I do? I...
"Is something wrong?" His voice sounds more out of curiosity than anything else.
"I... I've never had any parents." I reply, unsure how else to put it.
While I expected to be denied then and there, the old man just seems to accept it for some reason. "Well then, welcome to the family, Erza!"
Blood running cold, the word hits me like a ship. I had a family... I-I can't do that again. I'm sorry, but I won't be a part of it. But I can't say that. The only thing left for me to do is nod. Pulling a box from the desk in front of him, it opens to reveal a stamp.
"Color?"
The question stops me for a bit. Should I do red to match my hair? There's only one color coming to mind right now. His color. My hair may be red... but I can only picture blue. After telling him my preference, I ask him to put it on my upper-left arm. The stamp itself is cool to the touch, but a flow of magic makes its way into my veins. My eye watches the new mark for a moment, not really sure what I'm expecting it to do.
I'm snapped out of it when his voice fills the room once more. "Oh, by the way, my name is Makarov. Not, er... whatever it is that you said."
My hand brushes the back of my hair sheepishly, and the old man walks out the door, motioning for me to follow. And, seeming to sense my question, he states "Let's get you out of those dreadful rags and into some proper attire."
Leading me through the town, Mr. Makarov has us enter several shops. Surprise shoots through me when he says that I can pick whatever I want. Opting to go for a pair of brown boots, a few white blouses and skirts, some blue leggings, a red adjustable bowtie, and a brown belt; along with some other apparel, sleepwear, and undergarments. We somehow find ourselves in an armory a few minutes later.
"I thought we were going back to the guild?" I ask.
His reply is sound. "Well, I figured that since your magic seems to revolve around swords so far, it might not be a bad idea to get one for you."
While he searches for a good starting weapon, my eye drifts onto a chestplate.
Images flood my brain. Clashing swords. Cries of pain. Myself in an armor plate leading the rebellion.
That's what I need. If I'm to become strong, I need protection. To free my family. And it's not even just that. I may not be at the Tower anymore... but I don't feel safe. My body feels exposed.
"Mr. Makarov, Sir?" My voice nervously comes out. I shouldn't ask this of him, he's already done so much already, but I can't stop myself.
"Hmm?" the sound comes from behind his lips as he faces me.
"Can... can I have this?"
His eyes follow my finger to the piece of armor, and his brow forms a questioning glance. Yet, no question come forth. His eyes look into my one, and the wondering gaze fades away. Wait. Did he look at my missing eye? Whatever happened, we leave the armory with a sword, chestplate, and shoulder pads. Once again, I find myself wondering why we don't head to the guild, but some place called "Fairy Hills."
"What are we doing here?" I question the small man beside me, confused for the umpteenth time today.
"You need somewhere to live, don't ya?"
"You don't live at the guild?"
A laugh. "Heavens no. I don't think I'd ever survive."
... Huh?
Upon entering the building, a woman at the desk stares Makarov down over her glasses.
"Makarov," her tone appears to give off a warning. "I thought I told you to stay out of here. Isn't it bad enough that the girls have to be subjected to your lecherous eyes at the hall?"
Again, huh?
The old man's arms flail around while his head shakes. Is... is he sweating? "I'm innocent this time, I swear! I just came to say that this girl needs a place to stay!"
"I see." A shiver runs up my spine as her eyes turn on me. "And her parents are fine with this?"
Makarov's tone changes almost instantly. "Her first month's rent is on the guild."
With that, the woman's harsh gaze seems to soften, as does her voice. "Very well. Let me show you to your room, dear."
My gaze turns to the master, who nods and makes a "shooing" motion. With a gulp, my feet follow the steps of the woman. Leading me to the third floor, she unlocks a door and shows me around. While being small, it does have a bed and a bath; and there's a little kitchen alongside the main room. After that, the woman departs, leaving me alone. For a moment, my body stays completely still, unsure of what to do. Eventually, sword in hand, my legs cautiously move towards the bed. Slowly placing the rest of my stuff on the floor, my head swings down to make sure no one is hiding underneath. In addition, my arms also pull open the closet and bathroom doors. Once I'm sure that I'm alone, my hand finally lets the weapon down before I draw a bath. Thirty minutes later, I emerge from the bathroom in a pink set of pajamas and stare at the bed once more. My eyes haven't seen one for so long, and one never will again. Cold concrete and rough tree branches make this soft surface feel like absolute Heaven. My body can't even fight off the urge to sleep.
Breath is forced from my lungs as my throat whimpers in pain. Those once kind, hopeful eyes are gone. Darkness, evil, has taken their place. Burning in both my trachea and heart, the cruel, cold hands wrap around my neck. This power, it doesn't feel right. Smile, bright and true, now a mocking, hungry smirk. He isn't himself.
This isn't Jellal.
Gasping for air, my body shoots up from the mattress. Trembling hands reach my throat, still able to feel that wicked grasp. Head falling into my hands, my left palm is coated in tears. It wasn't just a dream. I finally got my freedom... but at what cost? Everyone else is either dead or still trapped in that awful place. Why did it happen like this? This couldn't have been the only way. If I had done something, anything different, would Grandpa Rob still be alive? Would Jellal still be sane? Would we all be here together?
A knock on the door sends a shiver up my spine. Sheets thrown over my head, prayers beg for the noise to stop. A minute's peace slightly calms me until the knocking continues.
"Erza!" calls out a voice. "Makarov is waiting for you outside!"
Why would he do that? Didn't I already get accepted into the guild? Not knowing of what is to become of my fate, one of my new outfits is slipped on my tired body. The yellow tie is a bit of a contrast to the light-pink fabric of my dress shirt, but I liked to cross pattern on it too much to pass up. A dark blue skirt and my new boots are equipped as well. The armor is placed firmly on my form and the sword rests on my hip before I finally open the door. Makarov's expression shows one of curiosity as I step outside Fairy Hills.
"Could you leave the armor and sword back in your room?" His tone holds more of a somewhat pleading sound than a commanding one.
Nevertheless, uneasiness takes over. "Why?"
"Because we're going to visit a healer, and I've already had a hard enough time convincing her to see you. If you bring those things, she will slam the door in my face again. She hates violence and people, you see?"
How does that even make sense? "Then why be a healer? And why must I go?"
"Porlyusica is very gifted in magic potions. Everyone has to make a living after all."
My head tilts in a slight nod. A job is a job I suppose.
"As for why I am taking you," continues the old man. "You should have those wounds looked over. And she may even be able to recover your lost eye."
What?
Aside from the crunching of leaves underneath each step and the chirping of some birds, silence rests between us. There was small talk, but nothing more than that. I'm not particularly in the mood to chat, but I feel as though I owe the master that much. After all, he had every right to just turn me away. It mostly just consisted of him asking a question, like "did you sleep well?" and my answers being restricted to one or two words; mostly just "yes" or "fine."
My feet stop momentarily as a woman comes into sight, with bright-pink hair and red eyes that heavily contrast the leaves of green surrounding us. Her form, sitting in front of a cottage placed all alone in the woods. Makarov stops as well, looking back to seemingly check up on me. Just being in the presence of this woman has my stomach feel upset. She obviously doesn't want us around. Yet, she approaches.
Her voice is strict and grumpy as she leans down to my eye level. "Show me your eye."
My head turns to the master uneasily and while his mouth opens to reply, the woman's voice barks. "Do you want help or not?"
Flinching at her tone, my head snaps back to face her. Shaking hands lift the white eyepatch to expose me wound. Uneasy and dreadful quiet comes over the woods as she looks at it. Please, just stop.
"Hmmph." finally comes the sound of her voice. "That's a nasty wound you've got there. It won't be an easy job, getting you to see out of that eye again."
With that, my fingers slowly guide the patch back into place as the master speaks. "Oh, don't be like that now... She's got such a beautiful face; it would be a terrible shame to leave it like this."
Uh, thanks, I guess?
The old woman pulls on the master's ear, causing cries of pain. "You get over here."
My ears can't pick up what they're saying, but I'm really not that hopeful. Can she really fix my eye? ...Do I even want her to? I'll never be able to forget what happened, what I have to do. But...
A slight gasp emerges from my mouth when I hear the healer's exclamation. "Rob?! Where is he then?!"
Solemn comes the reply from the old man. "Dead, she tells me."
Silence comes about once more while my brows fight the furrows forming. Were they close? They had to have been for that reaction. Did he tell her that it was all my fault? It was. He died, taking a hit that was meant for me. I'll never forgive myself for that.
"Follow me."
Her order comes as a surprise. She would still see me after this? After knowing that I was the last to see Grandpa Rob alive? Why? Nevertheless, my legs listen to her request, following the healer into her home.
Her voice is familiar. A sound of grief while trying to remain strong. "Sit here."
My gaze follows her hands as a wooden chair scrapes across the floor. Doing as instructed, my rear rests on the wood not long before the woman has me roll up my sleeves so that she may see my arms. Only now that my eye looks for them, does it actually notice just how many injuries there are. My back didn't even come into consideration as it isn't physically in my view. I wonder if it's bad as well? My legs and soles of my feet are given some attention before her wrinkled, yet smooth, hand slowly starts to pull off the patch covering my eye. The thought comes back to my mind again. Do I even want it healed?
Her gaze gives off a presence of both annoyance and confusion as my fingers gently tug it away from hers. "What?"
"I... um..." Better choose, Erza. "I don't want it healed."
"Hmmph." Taking a step back, her arms cross. "Less work for me. Now get out."
Slowly nodding and muttering a "thank you," boots hit the floor and carry my form outside. As the sunlight hits my pupil, Makarov's irises lift from the ground to face my own. What appears to be a glance of pity takes hold.
"Did it not work?" He wonders, his voice sad.
The woman's reply comes out flat. "No, she didn't want it fixed."
Flabbergasted, he hops off the tree stump. "W-what?! Why?"
Unable to look him in the eyes, my feet carry me back towards the way we came. Why didn't I want it fixed? If things had played out differently, I suppose I might have jumped at the chance. This patch will serve as a reminder. A promise. I will get stronger, and I will save my family.