Chapter 4

Gajeel was no fool.

He knew the town would be empty the second he heard their town's warning bell. Their little watchman saw to that. Where the villagers went, he hadn't the slightest clue. He half-expected them to take to boats and swim away, as it was their only real escape route. Coming down the cliff side was no easy task, especially with horses and wagons. How they would manage going up them, he had no idea.

He was somewhat disappointed to be met with no opposing force. Simply riding straight through the town was quite unnerving and he felt ill-at-ease. He eyed every window of every building for possible threats, but all he saw were empty homes, some with food sitting uneaten on tables. They were coming up on the largest of their town's architecture; the one he hoped would house the details he was searching for.

"Spread out! Search the town!" he ordered. Their raid would now proceed uninhibited by villagers. He gestured for two of his men to enter the large hall before them. It's grandeur and splendor had no effect on Gajeel; his sole purpose was inside.

His men tucked their shoulders down and collided with the massive doors, immediately recoiling from the weak, yet formidable resistance. Their action was repeated, and met with the same results. Irritated, Gajeel dismounted and approached the doors, his men slinking away. At first, he intended to cut away whatever was behind the door, barring their entrance, but at a hairbreadth distance, he changed his mind. For doors as big as these, it should be properly bolted and much more difficult. Whatever was blocking them now was a foolhardy last-minute attempt.

Raising one steel-clad hand, he rapped his knuckles against the door. He smirked at the novelty, trying to remember the last time such an action was required of him. There was no answer. However, he could sense there was another being on the opposite side.

"Open the door," he asserted.

He made sure no malice colored his tone, though, perhaps he would be granted entrance for being so genteel?

A quiet, yet firm voice responded, "No."

Obviously not. The voice was little, definitely female.

"Ya'd be wise t'open the door. If not, we'll kill you," he promised.

Though he knew he would follow through with such a task whether or not she obeyed, he was trying to scare her. Annoyed and impatient, he crossed his arms over his chest, fully expecting her compliance.

There was a quiet grunt followed by a loud, wooden thud behind the door. The girl gave a pleased outcry before mumbling something along the lines of, "I'd like to see you try." She had bolted the door.

Gajeel gave a slight turn of his head and nodded for his men to enter the hall through the lower windows.

Glass shattered and other items of equal fragility broke. It would not take long until they reached the main hall.

Sounds of a struggle were conveyed through the crevices in the door: a pained grunt, hard physical impacts, a possible body hitting the floor, and a sharp yelp. The bolt in the door was eventually raised and Gajeel shoved the entrance open, knocking the accommodating footman to the floor. The sight of a tiny blue-haired lass extracting the cutting edge of her blade from the thigh of her attacker lay before him. His man crumpled to the ground and she whipped her head around, ready for the next assailant.

She physically lurched when her hazel eyes spotted him. Her mouth fell agape as she gawked. It was the beast on the cliff. She stepped around her crippled attacker, putting more distance between the spellbinding demon and herself. She managed one word, inaudible to his men, but he managed to catch it anyway, "...dragon.."

He was brutish and large. But quite human. His body was covered in shiny black scales, from the tips of his fingers to the bottom of his feet, not a glimpse of skin could be seen, save for his face. He wore no helmet and allowed his long, jet-black hair to fall loosely behind him. His skin was darkly tanned and embellished with small, round piercings. These piercings formed the arch of his brows, studded his nose and lower lip, and adorned his ears in a fashion that Levy would never admit looked attractive on him. He scowled deeply at her, and she gripped the handle of her knife in response, her feet planted into the floor.

He had to admit she was lovely. Her sky blue hair fell past her shoulders in frantic disarray, her skin was a delicious combination of peaches and cream, and probably equally as tasty. She was undeniably short, but her age became apparent when she moved. Bell-like hips swayed beneath her modest cream colored attire, but nothing escaped his gaze. A familiar heat flooded his body and made his heart crack.

Gajeel stalked towards the little blue girl, watching the fear play across her face. He was a short arms-length away from her when she moved to strike him. Unafraid, he deflected her assault and nimbly snatched her right wrist, twisting enough for her to drop her weapon and shout in pain. The sound of her pained voice plucked a strange chord within him and he almost released her.

He hauled her up by her arm, looking into her face. Though her features were contorted with distress, he recognized her.

"Yer the watchman," he sneered.

She met his eyes with her own tear-soaked ones as her face twisted into a cross between hatred and pleading. A usual combination for him, and he had seen it many times before. Why such an expression should bother him now, he did not know. So he pushed it aside.

He addressed the blue-headed female cooly, "Hard to believe ya took down my men here," he spared a glance to those injured, "ya must be quite the spitfire."

She made no comment. She twisted and jerked against the muscular man's grip, her toes barely touching the floor beneath her. She feared her arm would soon be ripped out of socket and in a desperate attempt to free herself, she dropkicked him.

He swiftly blocked the offending leg, fully expecting her to resist him, though he was now more defensive. He smirked as her face fell. A spitfire, indeed.

"Ya have a death wish, Shorty?"

He seized her delicate throat in his opposite hand and released her wrist. He applied just enough pressure, not to hurt her, but to make her focus on him.

"Yer not gettin' off that easy. See them?" He pointed to the men outside and she followed his direction with her eyes. She grappled with the armor covering his hand as the metal cut into her skin when he unconsciously squeezed. From a wagon, two bodies were retrieved and unceremoniously dumped just inside the hall. She could not suppress her sob of horror when she recognized her friends. Though bloodied and bruised, she could tell they were alive and that this man planned to kill them if she did not obey.

He watched her emotions flutter across her face. Leaning in close to her ear he whispered, "They can go free if you tell me what I want to know."

Her skin crawled with unbidden arousal as he released a breath near her ear. She pulled at his pointer finger, trying to relieve the pressure he was suddenly applying. She cut herself on the slivers of plating thanks to her struggles.

She couldn't think of another way out with her life intact or her friend's. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she could not look the red eyed demon in the face when she nodded her reluctant agreement. Surely, they would leave if she gave him what he wanted.

"Good girl," he grunted, slowly releasing her. Levy choked on her sudden gulp of air. Gingerly, she fingered the bruised imprints on her throat. He could have easily snapped her neck if he wanted. She eyed him curiously, taking note of his impressively built stature. He stood almost two heads taller than she. Not very good odds if she wanted to take him down.

The muscular man before her shifted his weight, reaching inside his armor and withdrawing a small, folded piece of parchment. He unfolded it and held it close to her face.

"I'm looking for this," he rumbled.

Instant recognition flashed in her eyes as she saw pieces of the obscure runes she had been working to translate for so long. She instinctively reached for the paper, only to have it held high out of her reach. The giant tsk'ed at her.

"It's rude to take without permission," he grinned. She glared at his teasing jest.

Gajeel could see that the female recognized the parchment. He had finally found the right place after all.

"You're one to talk," she grumbled, but continued, "I don't know what it means."

She gripped her hands together, unsure how to proceed in order to keep her friends alive.

"But I can—" she was cut off by a deafening explosion outside. All eyes turned to the fiery doorway where the raiders once stood in wait. She heard men yelling battle cries and drawing weapons towards an opponent out of her field of sight. Levy was grabbed and violently shaken.

"You know this!" The man yelled at her urgently, "Can you crack it?!"

His blood eyes waited impatiently for her response. He meant if she could translate it, but she had been trying to decipher the runes for years up until this point. Fear welled up in her eyes and spilled into her cheeks. All she wanted was to save her friends. She felt her head bob in the affirmative.

His hand had wrapped around her upper arm, forcibly pulling her with him as he walked through the burning doorway. Levy was faced with horror as her town had caught fire and begun to burn. Another hand clamped over her other arm as she was thrown over a black leather saddle. The horse beneath her moved with uncertainty as she right herself and steadied when it's master swung himself up behind her, leaving an appropriate amount of distance between them.

His arms came forward around her waist and took hold of the reins. Levy was not even given the chance to resist when he spurred the animal to move.

"Move out!" the giant man ordered. He had no need to repeat himself for his men fell into step behind him.

She felt the man behind her give a slight jerk to spur his horse faster. The jostling and speed bounced her mercilessly. She felt as though she would fly off any moment. A strong, leather clad hand gripped hers and placed it over the horn of the saddle. She obeyed his direction and gripped the horn with both her hands trying to steady herself.

He used his body to push her forward, bending her torso over her hands. She was so light, he was afraid she might actually fly off. He resisted the urge to touch her more, knowing it would not be what she wanted.

But for now he was elated and he lead his men up the cliffs and back into the woods from where they came.

Things were going quite well for Gajeel.