Disclaimer: All characters except those I invent myself belong to Hiro Mashima.
This story will mostly be in first person, but for the sake of introducing Amaya to the guild, this particular chapter will be in third person.
Check the cover image of this story—that's exactly what Amaya looks like!
Please do review and let me know what you think!
CHAPTER TWO- LA BELLE MORT
The Fairy Tail guildhall was rowdy as usual.
The members sighed as the door opened with a loud crash, heralding the arrival of their Fire Dragon Slayer, knowing things were only about to get rowdier.
"Everyone, I'm home!" Natsu yelled. "And I totally destroyed that monster, it was easy!"
"Probably destroyed half the town along with it too," Someone muttered.
"And look who we brought back with us!" Happy piped up along with him.
This sparked the attention of the guild, which refocused their attention on the newcomer.
She had skin the colour of fresh cream and a tall, athletic body, dressed in a simple black tank top and shorts.
Glossy black hair tumbled down her back in waves, and she surveyed the room carefully through her clear, cobalt blue eyes that were fringed with long, dark lashes.
Full, red lips flattened into a level line; the girl moved fluidly, gracefully, towards the bar.
The guild was struck by her beauty as she passed them by, stopping before a small old man atop the bar table.
She bowed her head.
"Master. I've kept my promise."
The man was one of the Ten Wizard Saints of Fiore, Makarov Dreyar- the guildmaster of Fairy Tail.
His eyes crinkled as he smiled at the girl.
"That you have, Amaya."
Natsu started in surprise.
"Oi Gramps, you know her?"
The Master snorted.
"How could I not, boy? Half of Fiore knows her. The independent mage La Belle Mort, they call her—the one who brings eternal darkness to her enemies—the avenger of evil, Amaya Tsukino."
"This girl's La Belle Mort?" Several people chorused in shock.
To be sure, she looked too delicate.
Her fearsome reputation, however; said otherwise.
The girl shifted, seemingly uncomfortable with the lofty introduction.
"The name is a little fanciful for my liking," Amaya admitted in low, mellow tones.
Natsu blinked at her, nonplussed.
"What does that even mean, La Belle Mort?"
"Tch," Said a black-haired boy, wearing nothing except a pair of boxers.
"That means The Beautiful Death, you illiterate dumbass."
"Shut up droopy-eyes!"
"Fire-breathing idiot!"
"Half-naked pervert!"
A violent flurry of both insults and blows were exchanged between the two boys as they rolled about the floor.
A gentle laugh caused Amaya to notice the pretty, kind-faced bartender with silver hair standing near her.
"Gray's an ice mage, you see," The bartender sweetly explained.
"And since Natsu uses fire, they're like oil and water; always at odds."
"You must be Mirajane," Amaya said, holding out her hand.
"Pleased to meet you."
"Oh, call me Mira, dear. Where would you like your mark?"
Amaya considered the question as she watched Gray and Natsu, still brawling on the floor.
Lips twitching, she answered. "Just below my collarbone."
Mira fetched the member stamp, marking Amaya as a member of Fairy Tail.
The stamp appeared in a pretty shade of heliotrope.
For the first time since her arrival, something like a spark lit in Amaya's eyes.
"Thank you," She said.
"Look out!" Someone yelled behind her as Gray sent Natsu flying—straight towards Amaya.
Natsu, enveloped in a ball of fire, torpedoed towards the new mage.
Unconcerned, Amaya performed a neat flip, landing a meter away.
Stretching out an arm, she caught Natsu by the back of his scarf, preventing his fall.
"Might want to watch where you're going," Amaya said drily, setting him back on the floor.
Natsu gave her a wolfish grin as he launched himself at Gray again.
She shook her head as she watched the pair fight again.
"Amaya."
"Yes, Master?"
"Did you find him?"
She froze, hating her answer.
"No. I didn't. But my training is complete, and... I could not stay away from this place any longer. Much time has passed, and..."
"It has been... hard," Amaya conceded.
"But I will keep looking till I find him. That is my oath."
Makarov's eyes were gentle as he placed a hand on her shoulder.
"You will not be alone any longer. Your troubles are over, child."
As she remembered all that had taken place in the span of a few short years, her eyes darkened.
'You will be the key to my success. I will come back for you, precious one....'
"No, Master," Amaya whispered.
"I think they've only just begun."
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