I am so sorry for the late update. I have been rather occupied lately and my desire to write plummeted despite how excited I was to write this one.

This is Natsu's story.

He grew up in a bustling city from a middle-class family. His mother was kind treating him like a prince and spoiling him despite the overwhelming sickness that took hold of her as long as he could remember.

His father was strict often looking at him with disdain he would later find out that his father blamed him for his mother being sick.

His mother would assure him that it wasn't his fault that she was too weak to have another child and she knew it. Waiting 11 years was far too long for a second child.

He had a hard time believing her when both his father and older brother chastised him and treated him as the problem. He spent a lot of time with his mother avoiding the glares of the two other males of the family in hopes that he would forget the plague he unconsciously set upon the home.

On the eve of his sixth birthday his mother convinced his father to take him camping, a trip just between the two. At first it was awkward little words were exchanged between them, later his father would open up apologizing for blaming him and then attempt to reestablish their broken relationship.

After the confession he and his father enjoyed their time, fishing and cooking their catches. They set up the tent together and he was told stories by the campfire. Before settling for their second night in the woods his father received a call.

The phone call progressed and he watched as his father's features morphed from calm to sadness to anger. His father closed the phone and hurriedly began packing up their gear grumbling at him to get ready to head back home.

He kept his mouth shut quickly helping to pack before settling into the passenger side of their car.

"Your mother's sickness has become worse. We need to get home and take care of her." his father looked down at him scoffing loudly before driving off.

They arrived back home to view his mother in bed she was coughing loudly and could barely move. Her small frame seemed so frail and her dark green eyes were blackened and sunken in.

She had smiled weakly at him and his father before breaking into another fit of coughs, coughs that produced bright red blood that stained the palm of her hand. She waved that hand away smiling once again at the two.

He could feel the tears drip from his eyes just as strong sobs escaped his mouth. He reached out a tentative hand to grab a hold of his mother's ankle in a futile attempt to assure she was okay.

His mother was anything but okay and he knew it, she was dying from her sickness and the time she had left was slowly dwindling. Time so short that the family found themselves saying a final goodbye just two days later.

He had been crouched on the floor crying quietly in the corner when his father came into the room, two men stood behind him. His father sent him a menacing glare as the men carried his mom away. He would spend his time at the funeral avoiding his close family in favor of wallowing in her memory.

His father fell into work more after that going on long business trips and only being home a few days a month. His older brother had started school, a prestigious science academy to suit his prodigal skills in alchemy.

His brother was his only caretaker and even he was gone a lot, cooped up in a mysterious lab under their home. He would later find out that his brother had a deep fascination with dark arts researching voodoo, spells and potions.

His brother had asked him to help him in some experiments that he was making some new concoctions and wanted to record how they made someone feel. Wanting the attention and acceptance he readily agreed not thinking of what could happen.

"Don't worry Natsu these are just for stamina I just want to see if they have any affect." He was told on their first day. His brother was to give him something to drink and record the results over the next two weeks before giving another drink and repeating the process.

At first the drinks had been fairly simple most smelled awful but tasted like nothing the after effects were minimal and his reports throughout the weeks were barely noteworthy.

The taste soon became bitter and spicy stinging his tongue with each sip. His brother would say that it was a good sign, that it meant it was working and the results would be great. He had reported to his brother that it had become hard to concentrate that his mind raced too fast for any one thought to complete.

He found it hard to sleep or learn anything new and began to work out incessantly finding that punching a bag for five hours a day was the only way to keep him grounded.

In the latter part of the second year the drinks became almost too much for him to stomach most often they would come right back up the ones that didn't caused him physical pain that seared down his throat and rested in his gut.

His brother dutifully took down every note a grin plastered on his face that only grew with each session. He became frustrated begging his brother to stop that nothing felt right anymore. His brother assured him it would stop soon, the next phase was about to begin.

Before the second phase began the brothers found out that their father had died from being overworked in an attempt to avoid his children at all cost. He became depressed his father never once truly acknowledged him after his mother's death. The pain of the blatant rejection resulted in new found strength that ripped apart a sparring mat in seconds.

His brother told him that it was a result of the drinks and his hard work outs. Egging him on to continue with what he could only describe as experimentation. The second phase was a series of injections thick liquids pushed into muscle, veins, and eventually bone.

The liquids caused his body to tingle and convulse, riding throughout his system with some kind of unknown intent. He could feel his muscles quake and solidify into hard substance rolling beneath his skin with each movement.

His blood began to boil traveling through his veins at break neck speeds and he could swear he could feel the building blocks of his red blood cells transform and rearrange.

The bones cracked less with each deliberate move the joints fusing in an uncomfortable way and if he concentrated hard enough the bones seemed to shift creating new forms.

His brother cackled loudly at each new development the series of injections over the last few years proving to be extremely successful.

"Natsu you've done so well. I'd like you to rest some and continue your strength training and conditioning. The third phase will began in a few months."

He worked hard exercising on a constant basis the drinks and injections becoming more of an obvious influence as his body surpassed what could truly be classified as human.

He developed a hobby of creating things and built tables, bookshelves, and random birdhouses in his short reprieve from his brother.

After leaving him alone for several months his brother returned a large grin edged his features as he announced the commencement of the third phase, physical experimentation.

Before he had a chance to fully question what that meant his brother had drove a knife deep into the flesh and muscle of his right arm. He howled in pain clutching at his bicep and sent an incredulous look his brother's way.

"I will now test your ability to heal," His brother stated with an excited gleam.

His brother recorded how long the wound took to heal and the amount of pain it seemed to elicit. Each day he would ask him how it felt and then measure the size of it.

As soon as each one healed his brother would either give him something to drink, inject a liquid, or spout a spell of some sort in a different language before plunging the knife into a different area to record the findings.

He lost count of how many times he had been harmed, his memory ached of each wound but oddly enough his body no longer did. The healing time sped up considerably enough so the physical scars would disappear the very same day.

He praised when his brother stopped injuring him stating his healing ability was phenomenal and that the training was no longer needed, but that led to phase 4 pain tolerance.

His brother strapped him to a chair before unleashing high numbers of electric volts watching as he writhed in pain. The volts were administered in rapid succession until he was able to speak up while being shocked.

His brother followed it up with techniques involving water, dips into icy waters, drowning to within an inch of life, and boiling water to sensitive skin. The further along the torture went the more pleased his brother appeared.

The last round of physical torment was a controlled plume of fire, his brother set it around him locking him in a warm cocoon of fresh air the fire soon became drawn to him pulling in at an alarming rate before licking his skin.

With an odd compulsion he sighed in a breath taking in a large amount of the flame, it tickled his throat playing along his insides before tipping his fingers at his will. The flames danced at his own discretion and he unconsciously sent a wave of fire towards his brother singeing off the tips of his black hair.

His brother boomed loud laughter in delight reveling in the power he bestowed upon him. He was outraged at what his brother had done the new power expanding and releasing in an untamed rhythm. He roared in frustration his muscles contracting uncomfortably. His red blood cells morphing.

He could feel his skin crackle and break making way for patterned horns, slick scales and leathery wings. He roared once more punching a flaming fist into the wall causing the stone to shatter exposing the outside. He sent one well-placed shot at his brother before unfurling his wings and taking flight.

He ran for couple of years not knowing if his brother was searching for him or not. He would not take that chance traveling all over doing odd jobs for money and disappearing without leaving much or an impression.

In order to have some kind of normalcy he built a home nestled on the edge of the forest and desert a modest home that he could come to once in a while.

He was home that day drinking coffee while staring at the sun, when he noticed an object falling and faint screaming following. He turned in that direction realizing that what he saw was a person plummeting toward the earth. Without much prompting he sprinted in that direction running as fast as his skills would allow.

He stumbled once rolling in circles and then back into a standing position to continue running, he jumped over ravines and weaved through tall grasses before pinpointing the person's trajectory and planting himself firm.

He pressed himself hard against the ground raising his arms and closing his eyes. He had to save this person he came all this way for that.

The weight hit him hard the force driving his feet deep into the ground. His arms held still and he opened his eyes, a beautiful women was cradled in his hold her eyes scrunched so hard he was afraid they'd stick like that.

He panicked shouting to see if she was okay and when her eyes opened he breathed in relief, she was safe, he made it in time.

What would he do now he didn't know but just her being safe was enough to calm his lonely heart.

The final Chapter and epilogue will be next.