"Sometimes the brothers that you need in life are fosters."
Cold, sadistic, and a hint of crazy describes the pyromaniac perfectly. Never choosing to settle down and only taking risky and high paying guild requests and a passion for gambling to surv...
“Alright, listen up. Go and climb through the back window. Once you have your feet on the ground, run. Run to the woods and don’t look back, you hear me? An old friend of mine should be on her way here, and she’ll meet you there.”
The matron stood in front of us, the usual brown cardigan she always wears having been taken off leaving the sleeveless white dress underneath it. The image of her old guild insignia branded on her muscular left bicep is like a war cry as the gentle old lady turns back into a veteran wizard. Some of the other kids were already filing out the window, but my gaze locked onto the matron who was ready to live up to her title as our guardian in a way we weren’t prepared for.
The beat of a drum surrounded the area as her muscles began to swell and flex. She left through the orphanage’s doors and challenged the cultists head on. I couldn’t see the fight, but considering the ground shaking in rhythm with a heartbeat I could tell it wasn’t one a child should see. But her guild insignia will forever be burned into my mind, the eye with a curling tear. Its a shame her sacrifice didn’t do much for me though.
William grabbed my shoulder and pulled me out the window, but as we tried to follow the rest of the kids a quake caused the burning walls of one of the buildings to block our path.
“C-Come on! This way!”
The 15 year old grabbed my hand and we ran through the ruins of the village we once called home. Rosemary village was nought but ashe in the span of a few hours and corpses littered the streets. Through the flames I could see a red headed girl about my age get tackled by a trio of the cult’s smiling swordsmen. But her brown eyes held a glint of determination that I couldn’t find in myself.
William practically dragged me through the burning ruins but inevitably one of the cultists found us. One second I was running through the village, and the next my entire body was engulfed in a searing pain. Yellow sparks of electricity danced between mine and William’s connected hands as a mage smiled viciously in the distance. Darkness consumed my vision as my scream lost its voice, the sound of William’s disheartened cry the last thing I heard before going unconscious.
“Lyssa!”
— * —
I was woken up by an abrupt rocking feeling. I winced as my head was slammed against a wall, and immediately became aware of the shaking wooden flooring under me and the clacking of hooves against a rocky ground. The inside of the carriage I was in was dark.
“Lyssa, are you alright?”, the familiar voice said urgently. I could tell he wanted to check on me himself, but all of us had iron cuffs locking us to the walls of the carriage. I tried to move my feet out from under me but they were in the same position.
“Lyssa?” I blinked slowly and tried to ignore the ache in the back of my head. I noticed the red-headed girl from earlier, and a boy with black hair further in the carriage. Beside me was a boy with brown hair, the usual pony tail now loose and his long locks resting on his shoulders.
“William?”
“Thank god you’re alive. Are you okay?”
“I can’t move…and I’m hungry.”
“I think we all are…”
“W-Where are we?”
“No idea. We were knocked out, and anything after that…”
“Will, are we the only ones from the orphanage?”
“No. There are a few others, and I think some of of the kids that have been disappearing are here. In total, most here are about four to twelve, with me being the exception and the oldest.”
It was frustrating, staying locked up in those carriages. We weren’t aloud to move, and were barely fed. In total, I think we were travelling for around a week. The days were passed with tears and worry, thoughts drifting back to Rosemary village. How many survivors actually escaped? Would anyone try to come looking for us? We rarely got any visitors, so how long would it be for someone to notice that the town was destroyed? Would they even send help?
Would anyone even care that we were missing?
A few of us would send letters to old friends that got adopted, but it would take a month to receive any letters and send one in response. Will those kids try do raise notice of what happened? Some were adopted by nobles, so they might have the means to do so. William’s girlfriend was one of them, and is turning 16 next month and is making her debut as a lady. She even gifted him a necklace in the shape of a silver sword, saying that she’ll fight off any suitor using a sword of her own until the two can marry. He held it in a tight grip, clutching it as he fell asleep.
I could hear two of the kids talking in hushed tones.
“...sure about that?”
“Maybe? I helped her hide, but…”
The carriage came to an abrupt stop, as voices came in from outside. I sat up trying to hear what they were saying, but the all I could make out was rushing water and the smell of salt.
Is that…the sea?
“Good work. We might finally be able to finish this project. The Magic Council has been locating the other towers, though. We’ll have to work quickly.”
“Is the boat ready?”
“Been waiting since yesterday. Now get the labour on it already. The sooner we get the kids to the tower the sooner we can continue the project.”
As the back of the carriage opened up, I instinctively froze up at the site of the cultist again. All of us were stowed into the lower levels of a ship, and William and I were separated. Each of our hands were tied together with a magical bind, preventing us from escaping even if we tried.
Hours passed by in the damp, musty dark of the ship’s underbelly before we were dragged out. They came in and shackled us in groups with chains and we were forced to march out in lines.
When we were on the docks I got the chance to look around and notice the dozens of other lines of kids chained up, all being marched out into the freezing night air.
Fear penetrated my heart as my gaze locked onto the fortress being built by slave labour. At the time, all that was built was the foundation and part of the bottom, but with time it would reach into the sky. Barely hidden in the mist was my prison for the next few years to come. The R-System, a tower designed with the intention to resurrect the Black Wizard Zeref. But in a few years, when my life would take the greatest turn and betrayal would pollute the minds of the people forced to work here, it would take on a new name…
The Tower of Heaven.
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