Every Time We Touch
Disclaimer – I do not own Fairy Tail
Author's Note: This is a story within a story, which Makarov is telling, so listen to the tale of The Haunted Shrine. It has relevence to the plot. *Character Death in The Haunted Shrine
Chapter 9
The Haunted Shrine
It was not uncommon for there to be a calm fall morning in a rural village this time of year. The dawn's deep purple sky welcomed the orange glow with wide arms as the light stretched across the meadow recently laden with dew. Daylight danced on the water droplets, moving to the gopher frogs' song of low, ringing guttural snores.
Mavis listened intently from the rotted wooden porch of the small cottage, watching the sunrise beyond the field. Her long pink kimono billowed loosely around her. The breeze gently caressed her blonde hair, resting slightly on her pale skin. Her vibrant green eyes gazed lovingly on the land she could finally call her home.
She awakened from her peaceful state as she felt two strong arms hugging her around her waist. Leaning back into the embrace, Mavis looked tenderly into the dark eyes of her husband.
"What are you doing up so early, Mavis?" His husky voice was accompanied by a yawn. "Aren't you cold out here?"
"I'm just watching the sunrise, Zeref," she answered sweetly. He removed the black shawl that was on his shoulders and wrapped it around his wife. "I love it here," she sighed.
Zeref chuckled and pulled her back to him, resting his head atop hers while breathing in her scent, which smelled of fresh apples. Turning around in his arms, Mavis stretched up on her toes and planted a small kiss on her husband's nose. He gently cupped her face, a smile tugging at his lips as he leaned down to return the favor.
BANG!
A magical blast sounded alarmingly nearby. Zeref and Mavis leapt from each other's arms and looked beyond the porch to the old dirt road leading from the cottage. Shouts and curses erupted from the edge of the woods, echoing throughout the once quiet meadow, startling all living creatures into silence. Even the recently risen sunlight seemed to halt its joyous waltz among the dewdrops.
"Who's that?" whispered Mavis, panic rising in her voice. She gripped her husband's arm, her slender fingers leaving imprints on his skin.
"I don't know," he replied softly, guiding her slim figure behind him in hopes of shielding her from sight. He had an idea of who might be headed their way, but they couldn't have wanted to go this far. Could they?
"Well, look at what we have here," declared a deep, menacing voice. "A good for nothing traitor."
Five men emerged from the dirt road framed by trees. One of the men waved a magical weapon. The others, though seemingly unarmed, appeared no less threatening.
Zeref knew who these men were. They were monks from the shrine not too far from here. The same monks and shrine he'd denounced in order to marry. He knew that hadn't sat well with them, but he didn't think they'd go this far. They we supposed to follow a peaceful way of life.
"Mavis, run! Hide! Go now!" said Zeref, pushing her roughly in the direction of the field.
"No! I'm not leaving you," she replied defiantly. She glanced warily at the other men. They were still far enough away for a magical blast to be utterly useless, but they quickly made their way toward them.
"Please, Mavis, go. I'll find you. I promise," he said, pulling her into a quick, hard kiss. "Now go!"
Zeref released her from his grasp and headed down to meet the men, his hardened eyes meeting their heated glares. Mavis hesitated slightly before she turned around and ran into the field, leaving a dusty trail in her wake. But she could still hear the painful cries coming from her husband.
The raged monks pounded Zeref's body relentlessly, red welts and cuts littering every visible surface of his figure. The downpour of blows from their fists and the magical weapon accompanied the sound of sickening crunches. One of the men—the one holding the magical weapon—thrust the butt into Zeref's head. Blood spurted from the wound.
"You two take him back to the shrine," the man spat at them.
Painful tears soon fell from Mavis's eyes. She bit back a heart-wrenching sob and ran through the field determinedly. Sharp brown thorns and branches ripped her kimono to shreds. Crimson droplets seeped from the cuts and scratches she received, discoloring the front of her kimono.
Mavis stumbled toward the edge of the field, landing on her knees as she scraped them against jagged rocks near the entrance of the woods. She pushed herself off the ground, bolted up a gnarly tree, desperately clawed at the rough trunk and branches, and climbed unsteadily to the top with all her might.
She collapsed on a large branch enshrouded in dense, green foliage where she cried brokenly. Her scratched hands clutched the black shawl, pulling it tightly around her shoulders. Mavis buried her head in her arms and breathed in the musky scent of her husband from the tattered shawl, hoping to calm herself.
Her tears gradually subsided, her sobs mellowing to quiet whimpers. She looked up with dry eyes. Mavis cautiously spied the field she had run from through the leaves. Spotting a few of the men scouring the impenetrable shrubbery, her heart slammed into her chest as one of the men set fire to the middle of the field.
They fled as the field erupted in flames. Mavis sat dumbly as she watched her life burn before her eyes. The once lush landscape turned into the deepest shade of black she had ever seen.
But then the wind changed the direction of the fire, its new path heading in her direction. Mavis never even had a chance. The fire soon surrounded her completely, leaving her no chance for an escape. As it became harder and harder to breathe, Mavis dropped her head in defeat, weeping bitterly into her arms as she eventually succumbed to the death that finally claimed her.
Zeref watched through swollen eyes as the fire raged. The smoke-filled air became too horrible to bear. And if Mavis was gone, there would be nothing left for him.
The men finally dropped his broken body down in the shrine, where he lay on the floor now seeped in his own blood.
"No one leaves this walk of life," stated the man with the magical weapon.
Zeref sat up, a new strength consuming him as he stood on his feet, much to the surprise of the others. He opened his arms to them.
BANG!
The magical weapon went off, a blast piercing right through Zeref's heart. He fell to the ground, bouncing lightly on the bloodstained floor, his breath finally leaving his body.
End Chapter