Chapter 8

The forest seemed to grow darker and more foreboding as they pushed onward, the faint golden light of the setting sun now entirely swallowed by thick canopies of trees. The cool evening air carried a quiet stillness, broken only by the crunch of leaves and snapping twigs beneath their hurried steps.

Plue darted ahead, his tiny form glowing faintly in the growing darkness. He paused occasionally to look back, chirping urgently, before bounding forward once more.

"How far are we?" Gray muttered, his icy breath visible in the suddenly cooler air.

Plue gestured forward again, his chirps faster and more frantic.

"Close," Happy translated, flitting just above Natsu's shoulder. His usual playful demeanor was gone, replaced by a rare seriousness. "They're really close."

Natsu didn't respond. He was at the head of the group, his fists clenched tightly at his sides, and the faint glow of his flames casting flickering shadows on the ground. His steps were purposeful, his focus unrelenting.

The others followed closely behind, their own magic buzzing faintly in the air. Erza's armor glinted in the dim light, her sword drawn and at the ready. Cana's fingers shuffled her cards with an almost hypnotic rhythm, her sharp eyes scanning the path ahead. Even Mirajane, usually the picture of calm sweetness, carried a quiet intensity in her expression.

The tension was palpable, a shared unease that none of them voiced but all felt.

As they pressed deeper into the forest, the air began to change. It grew heavier, charged with a faint magical energy that sent shivers down their spines.

"Do you feel that?" Cana asked, her voice low but steady.

"Yeah," Gray said, his icy magic flaring instinctively. "It's like the air's... thicker."

Erza nodded. "It's a magical barrier. We're entering their territory."

"Good," Natsu growled, his flames flaring brighter. "That means we're close."

"Easy, Natsu," Erza warned, stepping up beside him. "We need to be smart about this. If we charge in without a plan—"

"Plan?" Natsu cut her off, his voice rough and edged with frustration. "The plan is to find them and bring them back. That's all that matters."

Erza's gaze sharpened. "And what happens if we walk into a trap? What happens if your recklessness puts Lucy and Levy in more danger?"

Natsu stopped abruptly, his body taut with tension. He turned to face Erza, his eyes glowing faintly in the dim light.

"She's my—" he started, but his voice caught. He shook his head and turned back toward the path. "I'm not letting anything happen to her. Or Levy."

Erza frowned but didn't press him further. Behind them, Gray exchanged a look with Cana, his expression a mixture of concern and curiosity.

"What's his deal?" Gray muttered.

Cana smirked faintly, though there was no humor in it. "Dragon Slayers are... complicated. Let's leave it at that."

The dense forest suddenly gave way to an open clearing, and the Phantom Lord hideout loomed before them. The building was massive, constructed of dark stone that seemed to absorb the faint light around it. Glowing magical sigils adorned its walls, pulsating with an eerie, unnatural light.

"It's bigger than I thought," Cana muttered, her fingers tightening around her deck of cards.

"It doesn't matter how big it is," Natsu said, stepping forward. His flames flared brighter, the light reflecting off the stone walls. "We're tearing it down if we have to."

"Stay focused," Erza said, her voice firm. She raised her sword, her gaze sweeping over the structure. "They'll know we're here soon, if they don't already."

As if on cue, a faint rustling came from the trees surrounding the clearing. The group tensed, their magic flaring instinctively as figures began to emerge from the shadows.

Phantom Lord mages, clad in dark robes and armor, stepped into the clearing, their gazes cold and predatory. There were at least a dozen of them, and more could be seen moving in the background.

"Well, well," one of the mages drawled, his voice mocking. "Looks like Fairy Tail came for a visit. You're a long way from home."

"You've got something of ours," Natsu growled, stepping forward. His flames burned hotter, the heat rippling through the air around him.

The mage smirked. "Oh? And what would that be?"

"Lucy and Levy," Natsu snapped, his voice rough and almost guttural. "Where are they?"

The mage chuckled, exchanging a glance with one of his companions. "You'll have to go through us to find out."

"That won't be a problem," Natsu said, his flames roaring to life around his fists.

Erza stepped forward, her sword gleaming. "Stand down now, or you'll regret it."

The Phantom mages laughed, their magic sparking to life as they prepared for battle.

"Looks like we're doing this the hard way," Gray muttered, ice forming along his arms.

Cana drew a card from her deck, her expression sharp. "Good. I was getting bored anyway."

With a roar, Natsu charged forward, his flames blazing. The clearing erupted into mayhem as magic clashed against magic, the air thick with energy and the sounds of battle.

The cell was damp and cold, the scent of mildew heavy in the air. Water dripped steadily from a crack in the ceiling, echoing through the stone chamber and creating a rhythm that only amplified the oppressive silence. Lucy sat slumped against the wall, her head resting back on the unforgiving surface as she tried to steady her breathing.

Her wrists throbbed where the magical restraints pulsed faintly, sapping her energy every time she so much as moved. The glowing bands seemed to hum with a cruel life of their own, tightening when she shifted too quickly.

Levy sat beside her, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees. Her usually bright and lively eyes were shadowed with exhaustion, though her determination hadn't faltered. She glanced over at Lucy, her voice a soft whisper that barely cut through the silence.

"How long do you think we've been here?"

Lucy tilted her head slightly, her blonde hair sticking to her damp cheek. "I don't know," she admitted, her voice hoarse. "Feels like hours, but it could've been longer."

Levy nodded, her gaze drifting toward the iron bars of the cell door. "Do you think Plue made it back?"

Lucy forced a small, tired smile. "He's tougher than he looks. If anyone can get to Fairy Tail, it's him."

The words felt more like a reassurance for herself than anything else, but Levy seemed to relax slightly.

"I hope they hurry," Levy murmured, her voice tinged with worry. She shifted, wincing as the movement tugged at a shallow cut on her shoulder.

Lucy noticed the grimace and leaned closer, concern flickering in her tired eyes. "Levy, you're hurt."

"It's nothing," Levy said quickly, shaking her head. "One of those guys scratched me when they shoved us in here. It's fine."

Lucy frowned but didn't press further. She glanced down at her own body, cataloging the aches and bruises that seemed to throb with every breath. Her lip was split, a faint line of dried blood trailing down her chin, and a sharp pain in her side told her she'd likely bruised a rib during the earlier struggle.

Levy's eyes dropped to Lucy's arm, and her expression darkened. "But you're not fine, Lucy. Look at your arm."

Lucy followed Levy's gaze and winced. A jagged cut ran along the length of her forearm, dried blood caked around it. It stung with every movement, but she had barely noticed it amidst all the other aches and pains.

"It's not that bad," Lucy said, brushing it off with a weak smile.

"Not that bad?" Levy's voice rose slightly, her worry flaring into frustration. "It's deep, Lucy. What if it gets infected?"

Lucy shrugged, wincing as the movement sent a jolt of pain through her side. "We don't exactly have a first-aid kit here, Levy. I'll be fine."

Levy frowned, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Fine isn't good enough. If we don't get out of here soon—"

"We will," Lucy interrupted, her voice firm despite the weariness in it. "Fairy Tail is coming. They always come through."

Levy's shoulders sagged slightly, the tension in her frame easing, but her worry didn't completely fade. "I just... I hate feeling this helpless."

Lucy reached out, her bound wrists trembling slightly as she gave Levy's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Me too," she said softly. "But we're not giving up."

The silence settled between them again, broken only by the rhythmic drip of water and the occasional shuffle of movement from somewhere beyond the cell.

"I can't stop thinking about what they said," Levy whispered suddenly, her voice barely audible.

Lucy turned to her, her brow furrowing. "What do you mean?"

Levy's hands clenched into fists, her knuckles whitening as her shoulders tensed. "They said Fairy Tail can't save us. That no one's coming."

"That's not true," Lucy said firmly, her voice gaining strength despite the weight pressing down on her. "They'll come, Levy. Fairy Tail doesn't leave anyone behind."

Levy's gaze met hers, and for a moment, her resolve seemed to falter. But then she nodded, her lips pressing into a thin line. "You're right. They'll come. They have to."

Lucy reached out, her bound wrists trembling slightly as she gave Levy's shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"They will," she said again, her tone softer. "We just have to hang on."

Their quiet moment was shattered by the sound of heavy footsteps approaching the cell. Both girls stiffened, their eyes snapping toward the iron door.

The faint glow of torchlight spilled into the room as the door creaked open, revealing a Phantom Lord mage flanked by two others. The lead mage's smirk was as cruel as his dark eyes, and the sight of it sent a chill down Lucy's spine.

"Well, look who's still awake," the mage drawled, his tone mocking.

"What do you want?" Lucy demanded, forcing herself to sit up straighter despite the sharp pain in her side.

The mage chuckled, leaning casually against the doorframe. "Nothing much. Just thought I'd check on our little guests. Make sure you're still nice and cozy."

Levy glared at him, her voice sharp despite the tremor in it. "If you think this is going to break us, you don't know anything about Fairy Tail."

The mage's smirk widened. "Oh, I know plenty about your guild. You're all bark and no bite. Always charging in, making a scene, but when it really matters?" He leaned closer, his gaze cold. "You fall apart."

Lucy's fists clenched, her nails digging into her palms. "You're wrong," she said, her voice steady and fierce. "Fairy Tail doesn't fall apart. And when they get here, you'll regret ever laying a hand on us."

The mage chuckled darkly, straightening and turning toward the door. "We'll see about that, princess."

As the door slammed shut, the sound echoed through the cell, leaving a heavy silence in its wake.

Gajeel leaned against a cold stone pillar in the dimly lit hallway of the Phantom Lord base, his sharp crimson eyes scanning the flickering shadows cast by the torches on the walls. The muffled sounds of laughter and conversation echoed from a nearby room, but he tuned it out, his mind restless.

He didn't care much for Phantom Lord's petty schemes, but something about this latest plan sat wrong with him. The guildmaster, Jose, had ordered the capture of two Fairy Tail mages, claiming it would send a message to their rivals. Gajeel hadn't asked questions; it wasn't his place to care.

But now, as he overheard bits of conversation drifting from the guards outside the prisoners' cell, he found his fists clenching involuntarily.

"They really thought they could stand up to us," one of the guards sneered. "That little blue-haired one had some fight in her, though. Too bad she didn't last long."

"Yeah," another voice chuckled. "The blonde wasn't bad, either. They'll break soon enough."

Gajeel's jaw tightened, his metal piercings glinting in the torchlight as his teeth ground together. He wasn't sure why their words bothered him so much, but the anger simmering in his chest was undeniable.

Gajeel stormed down the hall, his heavy boots echoing with each step, until he reached one of the guild's quieter chambers. Juvia was there, sitting on a low bench near the window, her usually dreamy expression replaced by a furrowed brow.

"Juvia," Gajeel said gruffly, his voice snapping her out of her thoughts.

She looked up, her blue eyes filled with uncertainty. "Gajeel... Did you hear?"

He nodded, his fists clenched at his sides. "Those Fairy Tail girls. They're hurt."

Juvia's gaze dropped to her lap, where her fingers twisted nervously. "Jose doesn't care if they're hurt... or worse," she said quietly. "He just wants to send a message."

Gajeel growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating through the room. "It's not right. They're not fighters—they're mages, sure, but this? It's cowardly."

Juvia glanced at him, her lips pressing into a thin line. "I don't like it either," she admitted. "Fairy Tail has always been kind to their members. They're not the enemy Jose makes them out to be."

Gajeel leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared at the floor. "That blue-haired girl... she's different," he muttered, his voice barely audible.

Juvia tilted her head. "Different? How?"

"I don't know," Gajeel snapped, his frustration boiling over. "But when I heard what they did to her, something... something in me didn't like it. It felt—wrong."

Juvia watched him closely, her expression softening. "Maybe it's because she's your mate."

Gajeel froze, his crimson eyes snapping up to meet hers. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Juvia smiled faintly, though her tone was serious. "Dragon Slayers have instincts, Gajeel. It's part of their magic. Sometimes they find someone who's... important to them, someone they're meant to protect. Their mate."

Gajeel scoffed, pushing off the wall. "That's just some stupid myth. I don't have a mate."

"Then why do you care so much?" Juvia asked, her voice gentle but piercing.

He didn't answer, his fists clenching tighter as memories of the guards' cruel words echoed in his mind.

Unable to ignore the gnawing anger in his chest, Gajeel made his way toward the cell block. The guards stationed outside stepped aside without protest, their smirks fading as they caught sight of his stormy expression.

He entered the dimly lit cell, his gaze falling immediately on the two figures slumped against the far wall.

Levy's small frame was hunched over, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. A faint trickle of blood ran down her shoulder, staining the fabric of her torn shirt. Beside her, the blonde—Lucy—glared up at him, her bruised face a mask of defiance.

"What do you want?" Lucy spat, her voice trembling but fierce.

Gajeel didn't respond immediately. His gaze lingered on Levy, his chest tightening as he took in the cut on her shoulder and the exhaustion etched into her features. Something primal flared within him—rage, protectiveness, and an overwhelming need to eliminate whatever had hurt her.

Levy looked up, her blue eyes meeting his. There was fear there, but also something else—confusion, maybe, or a spark of recognition.

He turned to the guards outside the cell, his voice a low growl. "Who did this to them?"

The guards exchanged nervous glances. "What does it matter?" one of them muttered.

"It matters," Gajeel snapped, his fists clenching as the faint glint of metal flickered across his knuckles. "Tell me who hurt her."

The guards took a step back, muttering excuses as they quickly retreated down the hall.

Lucy narrowed her eyes, her expression skeptical. "Why do you care?"

Gajeel didn't answer her directly. Instead, he turned back to Levy, his gaze softening ever so slightly. "I'm... gonna fix this," he said gruffly.

Levy blinked, her brow furrowing. "Fix what?"

"Everything," Gajeel muttered, his voice low. "Just hang on."

Without another word, he turned and left the cell, his mind swirling with unanswered questions and a growing determination to make things right.