Magi Oneshots

Solomon

Y/n stared up at the sky silently. There was no moon and the clouds were covering the stars. Why was she up here anyways at such a time?
Y/n herself had no clue. She just woke up and found herself wandering up here. It wasn't too late, others were still awake.
Sighing, she buried her face in her knees. Terrible events from the past prolonged her daily at night, jeering and laughing at her helplessness to forget them. Ever since she was a kid, she'd had bad luck. Not the usual, trip over you're own feet, or accidentally whacking yourself with a door. No, her bad luck was brutal.

At the age of five, a mysterious fire burned her house down, along with the rest of the village. Her younger brother Ken, hadn't made it out alive.

At the age of six, the rest of her entire family was hunted down for a sick game. They were all slaughtered mercilessly. She'd been dumped somewhere in the river, left to die and was found by a lovely lady who mended her back to health and after, adopted her.

At the age of seven, the lady who took her in caught a mental sickness. She drove herself mad and committed suicide, hanging from the ceiling.

At the age of eight, she had learned that she was nothing but bad luck. It didn't stop the fact that, after wandering through a merry village, three days later the people were all taken as slaves or experiments.

From nine years old to fifteen, she kept a healthy distance from humanity. Even though her presence also affected wildlife. After multiple natural disasters in areas she had previously been through, she began to wonder. If she was merely bad luck, or worse, a walking catastrophe, why should she exist? Why would the world be cruel enough to curse someone with luck that could possibly wipe out the human race if she wasn't careful?

At sixteen to eighteen, she met Solomon and Arba. They were the only two who accepted her for herself, catastrophic disasters and all. They welcomed her to the resistance, and so far, only mild accidents had occured. Nothing major. But Y/n knew better, and committed herself to keeping a distance from others.

Now, at nineteen years old, Y/n believed that not many in the resistance remembered her or better yet, knew her. She kept to herself so often that Arba and Solomon themselves were having trouble remembering her. Well, Arba believed Y/n was around, she just stayed away, for reasons unknown apparently.
Solomon on the other hand, was debating the fact of whether Y/n was a person he met in a dream or something. The only other person that could confirm her existence was Arba. But even she seemed to be having doubts. He couldn't recall a time when they had ever had a conversation, or if she'd joined them for breakfast, lunch or dinner. Heck, he couldn't even remember her face.

Y/n slid down the roof and took a deep breath. This was all a game. A cruel, twisted game that her and fate played. One move always led to another, so she had to be careful. Leave before the disaster starts, or stay and see what happens next. It was like a game of cats and mice, as she would forever be chased with disaster, chaos and death.

"Hello?"

Y/n whirled around and blinked.

"Arba."

Arba couldn't believe her eyes. After a  couple years, she had a slightly foggy image of what she remembered Y/n to look like. This girl standing on the edge was painfully similar and she couldn't help but feel relieved.
Taking a step forward, Y/n drew back, caution written in her features.
Arba pursed her lips.

"Y/n, are you alright? We haven't seen you around for a while."

Y/n paused and nodded.

"I'm fine. I just prefer my own thoughts to myself rather then socializing."