Flitting Dreams

written by Riseha

Summary: AU, Waking up in a world that's eerily perfect, in the body of a stranger child, a girl chases after a stranger who claims to know the way home; but when she discovers the truth about this perfect world she must decide the value of her own life before condemning another to a fate worse than death, or killing herself to save them.

Genre(s): Angst/Friendship/Adventure/Family/Action.

Warning(s): None for now in this chapter.

Disclaimer: I OWN NoThiNG You Recognize!


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Arc I — Stranger

Prologue: Pain

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" My hate is general, I detest all men;
Some because they are wicked and do evil,
Others because they tolerate the wicked,
Refusing them the active vigorous scorn
Which vice should stimulate in virtuous minds. "


Ba-dump.

This is life: the chirping of birds, the rustling of trees, the beating of rain against the leaves, the howling of winds, the crackling of lightning high up within the pouring skies—

Ba-dump.

What?

When I fully registered my surroundings, the numbing cold of my body, I was shocked.

I blinked, desperately trying to regain my sight, but no matter how long I waited for my eyes to adjust to the dark, I still couldn't see anything.

Was it that dark?

What time is it? I didn't know the sky in the countryside could be so dark; I had gotten used to grandmother's hometown, the sky there was always a navy blue with the stars sparkling like tears and it was always raining there.

Always.

So I wasn't surprised that I could taste the rain, could smell it and feel thousands of droplets beating on my skin. The cold of the rain seeped into my skin and from how my teeth was chattering, how numb I felt and how little energy I had, I knew I had hypothermia.

If I could still think rationally, I think I might have a chance to survive.

Survive? What are the dangers? What's the chance of me living this forest alive? Where and how had I gotten lost? What are the chances of me surviving, blinded by the dark, and so cold and with no equipment to survive?

What do I have? What does it takes to survive?

Ba-dump.

That's my heartbeat; I'm still alive.

And I want to keep it that way.

Struggling, coughing, I struggled to all fours. Damp, spiky hair tickled my eyes, stinging them and I pushed the hairs away, letting them plaster onto my face than to let them in my eyes.

To my amazement, I managed to stand on my feet.

I stumbled about blindly before I ran into a tree, I scrambled for a branch before I could fall. No branch came into grasp and I tumbled. My fingers dug into the earth, feeling the muddy soil slid through my fingers and I grimaced in disgust. I hated the outdoors or anything forest-related.

Firstly, it was dirty. Secondly, it was often scorching hot. Thirdly, it was easy to get lost.

However, the conditions I was in didn't bother me as another fact sank in.

I pulled my right arm free, grasping my other arm, I stiffened as I fell onto my behind, desperately stretching my long legs and trying to reach them.

I knew that my legs were too long to be reachable, but somehow, with ease and almost no strain at all, my fingers touched my bare toes. Slowly, fumbling about as I was still blinded, I felt my arms and legs.

I've shrunk.

I screamed, scrambling onto my very, very, short legs and stumbled about, my back hitting a tree, the harsh barks digging into my back and I was acutely aware of the short branch brushing my head.

I lurched forward, ignoring the pain under my bare feet as they scrapped pebbles and roots. I was sure I tripped a few times, my knees scrapped and bleeding, my palms all full of cuts, as I ran.

I didn't stop to staunch the blood of my wounds. I didn't bother with the pain but for once in my life, I sought more for pain.

Pain could stop this dream, this nightmare I'm trapped in. I'm sure if I keep running, if the numbing cold and pain increased, I'd wake up in my grandmother's cottage and forget this shit ever happened.

This was just a dream, I chided myself for feeling actual fear.

Ba-dump.

The pain was all too real, the metallic scent of blood wafted up my nose, the rain beat down even harder on me—if it was possible.

I ignored it; this was just a dream, it was nothing—the fear I felt was just a joke from this vivid dream and any moment now, my snappy grandmother will stumble in with her walking stick in hand and start nagging me about youths and how we should be early birds and crap.

My heart eased slightly at the thought of my grandmother bringing me out of this horrid dream.

Abruptly, I screamed.

I'd lost my footing.

The ground swirled in on me, swallowing me and I screamed even louder when I realized I'd stumble into a quicksand. I panicked, scrambling for a handhold.

Desperately, I twisted, throwing myself onto my front as I stretched for something: roots, vines, branches—anything that could hold and I could pull myself out.

Pain erupted from the tips of my fingers, blood poured but I couldn't be sure because I was still blinded, by my own tears and the darkness of the forest at night; my panic rose as quick as the mud did.

I could barely feel my feet but I think I was kicking them, in a vain hope that I'd be able to swim upwards, never mind that it was unheard of, my panic was interfering with my ability to think and my body simply refused to listen to my mind's mantra of calm down and think.

All the years spent on survival lessons were thrown out the window in the face of real danger.

No amount of mock practices at that school camp could help prepare for the real terror of a serious situation. I had no one to help me out, no equipment, nothing that could help me and above all, I was blinded, I could see nothing.

I opened my mouth to cry for help, hoping against hope that there was some human civilization out there.

I choked the moment I opened my mouth, I inhaled a mouthful of mud. Disgust spread through my senses, and I stopped my struggling to hack it out.

It was useless.

Ba-dump.

Mud, the earth and dirt swallowed me whole, invading my body through my nose and mouth and all I could think was to scream.

I couldn't describe in detail, what it looked like to be swallowed by a quicksand because till the very end, I was still blinded.

All I could name in detail was the feeling of being suffocated, of being hopelessly helpless and the overwhelming fact that I was about to die.

My body spasmed, desperately trying to inhale air, only mud entered and everything slipped out of my grasp.

Perhaps I was unconscious, had fainted but I couldn't be sure because I couldn't see anything in the first place.

This was it: the end of the road...

Dying?

Ba-...dump.

The weak fluttering of my heart, so much like the weak flutters of a butterfly before it fell to the ground, its wings crumpled and useless, incapable of flight.

I closed my eyes.


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Author's Note: Once again, I wrote a SI fic for Fairy Tail because it's crazy lacking. The goal of this fic is to be realistic, to describe the pain and panic etc. This will have a blend of my cynicism and pessimism (well, mostly compromised of those two of my personality) so I don't think there will be any fluff.

QUESTION: What magic do you suppose this OC of mine will have?

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