LEGACY OF THE LOST
—ERZA'S NOT EVEN FULLY CLOTHED when her world is turned upside down. She is only in her silk night gown and nothing else when the rift appears in her private chambers to rip through her things like a tornado. It's as tall and wide as her standard cherry wood wardrobe—which she notices it has just swallowed whole—and it's growing each second she stands there staring at it, gawking at the sheer absurdity of its presence.
She should scream; it's what any damsel in her position would do. Alert the guards outside to her predicament so they can take care of it or die trying. And she will, just as soon as she investigates a little further. Because she knows, as soon as it's made apparent that there's any danger, she will be escorted to safety. Far away from this spectacular phenomena.
The hole is halfway through eating her four poster bed, and she has to step away as it gets a little close.
It's pitch dark, like a big ball of night rolling around. And silent. It makes no sound as it snatches up all her belongings. Like a thief.
She takes another step back.
The only explanation she can come up with is magic, but the only magic she's ever seen or heard of is amateur sorcery. And that's more potions and protection runes—heresy—than this raw power she's looking at.
It's absolutely stunning, and she cannot wait to touch it.
Rolling up the milky white sleeve of her gown to her elbow, she stretches out her hand. She really only intends to brush a finger against it—because what loss is a single finger in the name of curiosity? But the hole grows a little large a little too fast and she's placed her whole hand inside the nothingness. The feeling is rather unremarkable, just stale cold.
She realizes quickly that this is possibly her worst idea to date. Because just as she begins to pull back, upset with her boring findings, the rift gives her some resistance. There is no pressure anywhere on her hand, nothing like being grabbed or held down, but she cannot move it. She can flex her fingers, or she thinks she can; she cannot see them to prove it.
"Give me back my hand," she says adamantly, as if scolding a stubborn child.
It doesn't listen, just like a child would.
Instead, it just continues to creep and crawl further up her arm until it's touching her precious gown at her elbow. She frowns, hoping that it is not ruining her favorite night clothes.
It's only now that she begins to call for help, not that she has all too much hope for her arm. They may have to chop it off at her shoulder, which is quite unfortunate. Growing whole limbs from scratch is quite tedious.
"Friedrich! Rostan!" They don't even hesitate to barge through her door, listening dutifully at all hours of the evening for trouble. But they stop dead in their tracks at the sight before them, and she feels a little silly. She must look a mess in her sleeping garments, attached to the strange black mass. "A little assistance, if you would."
Rostan stutters something about going for the other guards, or the captain, or maybe even her father before running away. Friedrich, though, narrows his wide eyes into determined slits, and he dashes forward with his sword drawn. He takes a bold stab at the black hole but the blade just gets stuck and sucked in—as Erza assumed it would—and he has to drop the hilt and back away before his hand is similarly trapped.
The hole is now almost up to her shoulder. And now that the sword is gone, Friedrich cannot slice through her arm to free her. Maybe he has a dagger...
Just as she is about to ask after another weapon, her guard begins to pull at her other arm. "I've got you, Princess. This beast will not eat you alive!"
She's not too sure about that, anymore. She watches with increasing dejection as the darkness envelopes her whole shoulder and begins to lick at the length of her body and neck. It's a terrible thing to laugh at a time like this, but it really tickles.
"What is going on in here?!" The voice of her father echoes around the shadowed room, overtaking her laughing fit. "Erza, what's happened?! Friedrich, what is this thing?"
Her father and the guards that Rostan went out to fetch cannot come in the room without risking the hole. Still, a few of the newer soldiers race impulsively into the darkness to avenge the loss of her arm. They never reappear, even as their comrades call out for their return.
"It's an impenetrable mass, Your Majesty," Friedrich cries, still pulling at Erza's other arm. But there is not a single budge. "It takes and doesn't give back!"
"Father," she says, voice cracking as she forces another giggle down, "I think this must be farewell. This end doesn't seem too bad, actually; I don't feel any pain. It may be a bit sudden, but—"
Her father cuts her off, sounding more frustrated with her than worried. "Erza Faverin, this is not the time for your jokes. Be serious, you are about to be taken from this world!"
Inappropriately, she chuckles again as the shadows creep around her sensitive stomach. A portion of her jaw is even lost to the blackness, now, giving her some difficulty with speaking.
"Well, if you do not want any jokes," she huffs, "then I will be silent."
And with perfect timing, the mass covers her mouth like a soft mask.
"I will find you, Erza," her father vows, standing tall as he instructs his guards to go searching for nearby witches or sorcerers. "We will seek justice for this treason. This magic will not go unpunished. Go. Go and I will find you and your mother on the Other Side."
No heartbroken farewells, no tears for lost family. Such is not the way of her people. Instead, she only feels happiness to be in the company of so many to see her off. Better than going to the Other Side in her sleep or alone in the forest somewhere.
Taking charge of her own fate, she simply pushes off her bare foot and disappears completely into the still black void.
ERZA FAVERIN V.
CASSIAN
NOTES ;
DID I SAY I WAS GOING TO POST
A CASSIAN FIC? NO? WELL, I DID
IT ANYWAY.
ERZA'S STORY HAS BEEN ONE I'VE
BEEN THROWING AROUND QUITE
A BIT, AND SHE WAS KIND OF
BEGGING TO BE WRITTEN.
THIS FIRST LITTLE LOOK INTO HER
CHARACTER IS A BIT...MUCH, I'LL
ADMIT. FIRST OFF, HER WORLD AND
HER...SPECIES ARE DIFFERENT
FROM THE USUAL, WE'LL SEE MORE
ON THAT LATER ON, I PROMISE. AND
ERZA IS VERY MUCH NOT YOUR
TYPICAL HEROINE. SHE'S A LITTLE
SILLY, A LITTLE NONCHALANT ABOUT
EVERYTHING, AND EVEN KIND OF
LOOPY. I'VE DRAWN A LOT OF
INSPIRATION FROM LUNA LOVEGOOD
FROM THE HARRY POTTER UNIVERSE.
NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE A LITTLE
MORE INVOLVED WITH HER THOUGHTS
AND FEELINGS AND STORY. AND HOPEFULLY
IT'LL MAKE A LITTLE MORE SENSE
ANYWAYS, IF YOU HAVE SOME THEORIES
ABOUT HER STORY ALREADY, I AM SO
EAGER TO HEAR THEM. ERZA IS QUITE
SPECIAL...IN MORE WAYS THAN ONE.
AND SHE WILL BE VERY SPECIAL TO
CASSIAN.
IF ERZA IS NOT YOUR CUP OF TEA, THEN
I TOTALLY UNDERSTAND. BUT I'VE FALLEN
IN LOVE WITH HER CHARACTER SO SHE'S
STAYING. IF YOU PREFER A STRONGER,
MORE CONVENTIONAL MAIN CHARACTER,
GO CHECK OUT MY AZRIEL FIC. IF YOU'VE
ALREADY READ THAT, THEN...GO OUT AND
FIND SOME OTHER FANFICTIONS IDK.
OR YOU CAN WAIT FOR MY LUCIEN FIC
TO COME OUT ;) THAT MC WILL BE A
TOTAL 180 FROM LITTLE ERZA
I HAVE ALSO CREATED A PLAYLIST ON
SPOTIFY FOR YOUR ENJOYMENT.
LINK: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/207DeQ3vJIntLqagFVcjYy?si=bO7jrg7bT0aWTmK3yq9lvQ&dl_branch=1
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE
ACOTAR WORKS. ALL RIGHTS TO PLOT
AND CANON CHARACTERS BELONG TO
SARAH J MAAS. I ONLY OWN ORIGINAL
CHARACTERS AND ORIGINAL PLOTLINES.
WARNINGS : MATURE THEMES AHEAD
HEAVY VIOLENCE, GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF GORE, SEXUAL CONTENT, EXPLICIT LANGUAGE, MENTIONS OF DEPRESSION/SYMPTOMS, AND OTHER TOPICS UNSUITABLE FOR YOUNGER READERS