Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail and 'Fairy Tail x Op male ninja reader: A dark ninja of Redemption' by 'JustyTurner'. They belong to their respective owners.
Enjoy.
The rhythmic clip-clop of horses' hooves against the cobblestone path was the only sound initially disturbing the serene tranquility of the twilight forest.
A grand carriage, adorned with the crest of the esteemed Everlight family, rolled steadily onward, its polished wood gleaming faintly in the dappled moonlight filtering through the dense canopy above.
Inside, Lady Elara Everlight was en route to a crucial diplomatic summit, her safety paramount, hence the presence of both a contingent of stalwart royal guards and the famed Wizard Saint, Jura Neekis.
The guards, clad in gleaming silver armor etched with the kingdom's sigil, rode in a vigilant escort around the carriage, their eyes constantly scanning the shadowed depths of the woods.
Leading the vanguard was Captain Valerius, a seasoned soldier whose weathered face and sharp eyes spoke of countless battles and unwavering loyalty.
Within the carriage, Jura Neekis sat calmly, his towering frame filling the plush interior, his iconic stony features betraying no sign of concern, though his senses were keenly aware of their surroundings as he is a bulwark of strength, his very presence a reassurance against any potential threat.
Suddenly, the forest path ahead is blocked by two figures, shrouded in dark, heavy cloaks that concealed them completely, stood squarely in the middle of the road, their presence radiating an unsettling stillness that sent a ripple of unease through the guards.
Captain Valerius immediately signaled his men to halt with the carriage lurched gently to a stop, the silence of the forest now thick with tension.
"Halt! Identify yourselves!" Valerius's voice boomed, echoing through the trees, his hand instinctively resting on the hilt of his sword as the guards tightened their grip on their weapons, their formation solidifying, ready for any hostility.
From the lead cloak figure, a chuckle resonated, low and masculine, laced with a hint of amusement as he slowly but deliberately, reached up and pulled back the hood, revealing a face that was striking in it's sharp angles and unsettling intensity with his eyes, a piercing violet, gleamed with an almost predatory light and his dark hair is styled in a wild, untamed manner, and a cruel smirk played on his lips.
"Such impolite greetings for a humble traveler," He drawled, his voice smooth yet with an undercurrent of steel. "My name is Zarathus. And I simply wish to know who occupies this… opulent conveyance." He gestured dismissively at the carriage with a flourish, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Surely, it wouldn't be too much to indulge my curiosity?"
Jura Neekis, who had remained seated within the carriage, finally emerged, his imposing figure dwarfing the guards as he stepped into the moonlight.
His gaze, usually calm and steady, narrowed slightly as he surveyed Zarathus and the other cloaked figure beside him as he decided to speak, his voice, deep and resonating with the authority of a Wizard Saint, cutting through the tense air itself.
"I am Jura Neekis, and I am the hired protection for this carriage. State your purpose for impeding our journey, or be on your way." Jura's tone was firm, devoid of any room for negotiation as he exuded an aura of quiet power, a silent promise of formidable force.
Zarathus's smirk widened into a full-blown grin, revealing teeth that seemed a little too sharp. "Jura Neekis, the esteemed Iron Rock Jura? An honor, truly. But I'm afraid your… protection is precisely what interests me." He let his gaze flicker towards the carriage, then back to Jura. "All I wish is to know who is within. Allow me this small indulgence, and you and your… valiant guards can be on your merry way. Refuse, and… well, let's just say you will face a most… humiliating defeat."
Jura's brow furrowed. He knew the reputation of Zarathus; whispered rumors of dark magic and twisted experiments circulated amongst the magic council circles, though nothing concrete had ever been proven.
He wasn't intimidated, but he was cautious. "I refuse. State your intentions, Zarathus, or face the consequences."
Zarathus chuckled again, a sound that grated on the ears. "Such a shame, Neekis. I was hoping for a peaceful exchange." He shook his head dramatically, then turned to the other cloaked figure who had remained silent until now. "Ayame, my dear. Won't you introduce yourself?"
With a fluid, graceful movement, the second cloaked figure pulled back her hood. Gasps rippled through the guards. Beneath the cloak was not the hulking form they might have expected, but a girl who appeared to be on the cusp of womanhood, her age seemed barely past teenage years, yet her body possessed a striking maturity, hinting at a dangerous allure with long, ink-black hair cascaded down her back, framing a pale face with sharp, almost doll-like features and her eyes, a startling shade of crimson, are unnervingly devoid of emotion, like polished rubies.
She wore a dark grey dress with a surprisingly short, pleated skirt that emphasized the lithe strength of her legs, encased in thigh-high black stockings and sturdy, laced-up boots.
Above the dress are a pair of coattails which is as dark as midnight that fluttered behind her in the gentle breeze as her arms are adorned with black gloves, but beneath the edges of the gloves and peeking out from the sleeves, bandages wrapped tightly around her wrists, their stark white a jarring contrast against her dark attire.
Her most striking feature, beyond her unsettling beauty, was the undeniable fullness of her bosom, a trait that belied her youthful appearance and further blurred the lines between girl and woman.
Zarathus threw back his head and let out a maniacal laugh, the sound echoing eerily in the forest. "Behold, Jura Neekis, the culmination of my genius! Ayame Kagetsuki! My proud creation, my personal servant, my… assassin!" He emphasized the last word with relish. "Forged to be the ultimate counter to magic, the bane of all wizards! She possesses both the skill and the magic to obliterate even the likes of you!"
As if on cue, Ayame stepped forward, her movements silent and predatory and from seemingly nowhere, she drew two swords.
They are long, slender blades, crafted from a dark, almost black metal that seemed to absorb the moonlight with intricate patterns of glowing blue circuits pulsed along the length of the blades, giving them an otherworldly, technological feel that clashed sharply with the medieval setting as she held them with an unnerving stillness, pointing them directly at Jura, her crimson eyes fixed on him with a chilling focus.
"Ayame," Zarathus commanded, his voice now sharp and cold. "Eliminate the obstacle. Do not fail me."
Without a word, Ayame moved as her speed is astonishing, blurring the line between human and phantom.
Jura, despite his initial composure, is forced to react instantly as he slammed his hands down on the earth, a surge of earth magic erupting from the ground in front of him in a protective wall.
"Earth Pillar Barrage!"
Jagged pillars of rock shot upwards, forming a defensive barrier.
But Ayame didn't even falter for as the earth pillars rose to meet her, she simply raised her hand, her crimson eyes glowing brighter as a ripple of unseen energy emanated from her, washing over the earth magic.
"Magic Dispel."
The words were spoken softly, almost breathlessly, yet the effect was devastating as the earth pillars, solid moments before, shimmered and dissolved into dust, the magic that constituted them simply… vanishing.
Jura's eyes widened in genuine shock as he had never encountered magic quite like this and he barely had the time to react as Ayame's swords flashed, a silver streak of deadly intent which he sidestepped, the razor-sharp blade whistling past his ear, close enough to feel the wind of its passage as he leaped back, putting distance between them, his mind racing to understand this new, terrifying magic.
Zarathus, watching from the sidelines, erupted in another bout of maniacal laughter. "Marvelous, isn't she, Jura? Ayame Kagetsuki wields the Lost Magic known as…Prime Magic!The essence of all magic, the source of all creation! She can manipulate magic in all its forms, negate it, absorb it, bend it to her will! I have honed her, trained her from birth to be the perfect assassin against wizards! Your earth magic is but a child's plaything to her!"
Jura, despite the shock, is far from defeated for he is a Wizard Saint for a reason and even without his magic at full capacity, he possessed formidable martial prowess, honed through years of training and battles.
He knew he couldn't rely solely on his magic against Ayame so he shifted his stance, adopting a more combat-oriented posture.
"If magic is ineffective," Jura muttered, more to himself than anyone else, "Then we shall fight with our fists!"
He charged forward, his movements surprisingly agile for his massive frame as he unleashed a barrage of powerful punches, each blow carrying the weight of a boulder, aimed to overwhelm Ayame with brute force.
Ayame, however, is unfazed as she moved with an almost balletic grace, dodging and weaving through Jura's attacks with impossible speed as her swords became whirling extensions of her arms, deflecting his punches, parrying his strikes, each movement precise and deadly.
Sparks flew as metal met flesh and rock as Jura feigned a right hook, then shifted his weight, launching a powerful kick aimed at Ayame's torso.
Ayame, anticipating his move, crossed her blades in front of her, creating a defensive barrier as the force of Jura's kick reverberated through her arms, but the blades held firm, deflecting the blow.
She retaliated with a swift, spinning slash, aiming for Jura's legs but he jumped back, narrowly avoiding the attack, the fabric of his robes just brushing against the razor-sharp edge.
"Earth Flow Rock Fist!"
Jura roared, channeling a surge of earth magic into his right fist, coating it in a layer of dense rock as he lunged again, his rock-clad fist aimed squarely at Ayame's head.
Ayame, seeing the attack, didn't attempt to dispel the magic this time but instead, her crimson eyes glowed intensely, and she shifted her stance, as if preparing to absorb the incoming magic.
As Jura's fist connected with Ayame's defense, a wave of energy pulsed outwards as the rock on Jura's fist began to crumble, the earth magic being drawn into Ayame, swirling around her blades like a vortex of blue light as she twisted her body, using the momentum of Jura's blow to launch a counter-attack, her swords flashing in a deadly arc.
Jura, realizing his magic was being turned against him, instinctively threw himself backward, dodging Ayame's whirling blades.
He landed heavily, rolling to his feet, his eyes narrowed, studying Ayame intently.
He understood now; direct magical attacks were futile against her so he needed to find another way.
As the fight raged, unnoticed by either combatant, a stray magical surge, perhaps a ripple from Ayame's Prime Magic, or a stray fragment of Jura's earth manipulation, careened wildly through the air.
It was pure, raw, uncontrolled magic, seeking an outlet.
And it found one.
Zarathus, engrossed in the spectacle of Ayame's dominance over Jura, stood just a little too close to the chaotic magical exchange as the stray surge slammed into him with the force of a runaway train, striking him squarely in the chest.
He staggered back, his eyes widening in disbelief, a choked gasp escaping his lips as he clutched his chest, his violet eyes losing their predatory gleam, replaced by a flicker of surprised pain.
Ayame and Jura were so locked in their fierce battle that neither of them initially noticed Zarathus's sudden collapse.
It was only when a strangled cough echoed through the clearing that Ayame's crimson eyes flickered towards her master and Jura, momentarily pausing his attack, also turned, his brow furrowed in confusion.
Zarathus lay on the ground, his body contorted at an unnatural angle as a faint wisp of smoke curled from his chest, the scent of burnt ozone filling the air.
His breathing has become a shallow, ragged gasps as Ayame approached him slowly, her swords still held loosely in her hands, her expression unchanged, utterly emotionless.
She knelt beside him, her crimson eyes fixed on his face as Zarathus's lips moved, forming words that were barely audible. "Ayame… my… greatest… creation…" His voice was weak, fading. "I… can't… die… like... this…" Another choked gasp rattled in his chest. "Far... Too… Busy…" And then, his eyes glazed over, the violet light extinguished, and his body went still for Zarathus is dead.
Ayame remained kneeling beside her master's corpse, her head bowed slightly, her swords now resting on the ground beside her.
She didn't weep, didn't scream, didn't even flinch as her face remained an impassive mask, as if she were an exquisitely crafted doll whose strings had suddenly been cut as she simply stared down at Zarathus's lifeless form, her crimson eyes vacant, reflecting nothing, feeling nothing.
Jura stood there, watching the bizarre scene unfold, feeling utterly bewildered.
He had been preparing for a fierce battle in a clash of magic and wills.
He had not anticipated… this.
The fight had ended not with a decisive victory or defeat, but with an accidental, almost comical, tragedy as he looked from Zarathus's corpse to Ayame, who was still kneeling, motionless, like a statue carved from obsidian.
The royal guards, who had remained frozen in shock throughout the encounter, now cautiously approached, their swords still drawn, their eyes darting between Jura, Ayame, and the fallen Zarathus.
Captain Valerius stepped forward, his voice hesitant. "Wizard Saint Jura… what… what do we do now?"
Jura sighed, running a hand through his bald head. "I… I honestly don't know, Captain. I truly don't know." He looked at Ayame again, at her unnervingly still form, at the swords at her side.
She was still, silent, waiting.
Waiting for orders that would never come.
As the guards began to cautiously surround Ayame, unsure if she posed a continued threat, the carriage, having been momentarily forgotten in the chaos, began to roll forward, its horses sensing the lack of obstruction.
It moved slowly at first, then gradually picked up speed, continuing its journey towards the diplomatic summit, leaving Jura Neekis and the enigmatic Ayame Kagetsuki behind in the twilight forest, a tableau of confusion, loss, and unanswered questions lingering in the air.
Jura was left with the unsettling feeling that this strange encounter was far from over, and that the silent, emotionless girl kneeling before her dead master was more than just a weapon; she was a mystery, a question mark hanging heavy in the balance of fate.
Well, here it is...
All done...
As always...
Ciao...