Fairy Tail: Swallow the Fire

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Hurried footfalls roared through the adamantine halls of an ivory tower floating within an endless astral sky.

At the forefront of the legions of angered deities and angels were two, immovable and determined archons.

The first, towering over the other beside him, kicked down the last of the doors blocking them from the sole individual that had angered the heavens.

“Eel-ilia!” the horned god bellowed upon seeing the granite-skinned God of Discovery in the middle of an opalescent domain tainted by whorling black arcana.

The god in question barely sparred the duo a glance before he went back to work, hands weaving and pulling strings of ether as his attention became fully focused on the portal on the ground before him he was determined to open.

“Eel-ilia, please! Cease this before the consequences can’t be undone!” the second god pleaded, the large feathers that formed a sleeve down his arms being the only thing allowing him to open his eyes in the stormy room.

“I’m afraid that isn’t possible, Alleize. Not anymore,” Eel-ilia responded. “Though I may thank you for acting on your position as a servant of diplomacy.”

Taking the god’s rejection as his queue to act, the horned god tried to charge forward only for the God of Diplomacy to block him with his own body. “If this is your course of action, then tell us, why!? What do you seek to obtain by confronting the World of Nil!?”

“Discovery, just as my nature dictates it. Where does magic, the source of our power come from? Where were we, and all of creation, born? What came first, the chicken or the egg? Light or darkness?” Finally looking up at the hoard confronting him, they saw the usually despondent eyes were full of stony conviction. “It is my full belief that the corridor between life and death, the endless void where nothing should and yet does exist is the answer to all and more.”

“Heresiarch!” The towering god bellowed again with a leap, the titanic glaive in his four grey hands held high as his white mane streaked behind him.

“Belteh!”

“Die so your magic may be possessed by one more worthy!” As he plunged, the head of the glaive pierced through Eel-ilia’s stony skin without any resistance, letting the divine ichor flow out of the wound as iridescent light.

“Ever headstrong, just as expected of a God of War,” the god spoke with continued calm even as he was hoisted atop the end of the glaive. “Servants to your domains, performing your orders dutifully. But just as you have done yours, so have I.”

Just as the war god threw the heretical god aside, the chaotic whorling reached an apotheosis and then everything stilled. The portal that had once been unstable was calm as a low, echoing hum had begun to quickly draw itself into a deafening static sound of infinite voices.

The titanic god stared into the abyss before him just as it erupted.

Countless amorphous wraiths shot out of the gate and flooded the visions of all, dispersing into the greater cosmos as the Gate of the Wraith’s Wail was opened for the first time.

—

In the middle of a human village, a hamlet of no more than eighty people, a woman covered in sweat held her newborn close to her as tears poured from her eyes, her husband hugging her close to him.

“We have to run, Mylyitta,” his voice came out broken, strained, but with the unwavering conviction of a determined father.

“Where would we even go, Zaibu!? Where!?” the mother cried. “The priest has already seen our child! The angels will be here soon and there's nothing we can do about it!”

“Yes, there is! But only if we go right now!” he pleaded. “I’ve overheard whispers and rumours from traders. There’s probably a settlement to the east founded by demons who will help us make our way to the dark continents. Hidden. Our child will be safe there. I promise.”

Mylyitta choked down her sobs as she held her child closer to her chest, the nubs of his soon-to-be horns poking into her collarbone as she did and his colourful red and azure skin a stark contrast to her deep tan.

She nodded.

“Momma won’t let anyone hurt you, my sweet little Aetna.”

—

A small cherubim with porcelain skin floated down towards the war room where it found its master, the War God Belteh, staring over a map of the entire world with his black and yellow eyes.

“Master,” it spoke with its bull, lion, bird, and human heads all at once, “Your sons are preparing for an assault on a harbour town we believe to be conspiring with the demon state of Tartaros.”

“Tell them to stay. I’ll be dealing with these wraithborn personally.”

—

Aetna, no longer a babe but a man, ushered humans, his kin and their loved ones onto ships and into bunkers. His body throbbed with the strain from casting spell after spell to block the attacks from the rampaging god with the help of several dozen other mages.

None of the barriers could fully stop the attacks but managed to divert them just enough that not everyone died.

“Ukshala! Get them into the water! Now!” he shouted to one of the demon wizards who was flying ahead of them. At his words, the ships began to submerge into the water a dome of air suspended with them.

As the last of the people managed to escape, he and the others charged toward the god with the intent of delaying him. Glaive met barriers, spells met flesh, then glaive met flesh. Over and over, until…

"Water God’s Thetis!" Two black watery sharks flew through the air and effortlessly bit into Belteh's arms. Aetna turned towards the voice, relieved to see his mother, her blonde hair flowing as she leapt from a rooftop, her eyes now black and green, fixed on the god.

“Sunder,” Belteh’s voice boomed across the courtyard as he swung the glaive at Mylyitta who created a barrier of water. Space visibly cracked at the strike but she was barely moved, landing back on the roof with a flip.

Aetna wasn’t going to let his mother fight alone, however. She and his father might have been one of the humans that became god slayers over the centuries since demonkind was born, but he was an accomplished mage himself for his age.

Channelling magic through his whole body, he slammed his fists together as opalescent magic began to glow around him, “Ghosts of Brittia!” Hundreds of wraiths shot out from around him in streams and closed around the god in a bid to restrain his movements. They did not.

With a swing of his glaive, he cleaved through the ghosts like a hot knife through butter. “Die, heresiarchs, each and every one! Rapture!”

Slamming the butt of the weapon on the ground, Belteh released a solid wave of gold light all around him. In response, the god slayer quickly shouted “Water God’s Tidal Gaol!” Just as the others managed to raise defences of their own, the golden wave crashed against the black water in a clash that lasted several agonizing seconds before the light won. The wave ripped through the other defences even easier than the Tidal Gaol sending the eleven demons and humans flying through buildings with burns and broken bones.

Aetna, lying on the ground and completely immobile, could faintly see and feel the clashing powers of the god and god slayer’s magics. But all his senses were muted under the feeling of excruciating pain that flooded his existence. He tried to stand up, to climb and claw his way back to his feet, but all he could do was scream in frustration.

Through hazy eyes he could barely see out of the corner of his eyes, lazing over the dead bodies strewn about him, was an ethereal essence that sang to him. Without even thinking, he let it enter his body, letting what felt natural to him as his body turned from devouring one soul to hundreds from where he sat.

As a new power he hadn’t felt before flushed his system, all of his wounds began to knit together, his bones snapping into place and his magic power recharging itself as his pores opened up more.

The second he stood up, he rushed towards the fighting duo as a crystalline spear manifested itself in his hands. He snarled at the sight of all the destruction around him, of how he had almost died because he was simply born, and that his mother was now forced to fight gods just because they won’t let him exist.

He rammed the spear towards the god with fury, only for it to be blocked by the god’s glaive. In that same instant, Mylyitta struck forward with a black water trident forcing Belteh to guard against that as well.

As spear, trident, and glaive clashed the environment whirled away to a familiar yet distinct different image.

The god slayer was gone, instead six other demons took her place as an older Aetna fought the same god. Instead of fighting in the centre of a ruined and burning port city, they fought amidst humans, dragons, angels and other gods that battled each other in a wallless throne room that sat above the clouds.

And in the centre of it all was Aetna and Belteh, the latter being on the backfoot this time around despite his opponent being a single, thin mage.

Black chains circled around them both as Aetna created more, shooting into the spires around them to move quickly and wrapping around his titanic opponent to force him to move in ways that would leave him open.

As soon as the chains ended up suspended in the form of a large pentagram that trapped the god underneath it, chains shot out from each point of the star and attached to his legs while Aetna started hovering over the ritual. A third eye opened in the centre of his forehead as his hands were held placed at the heart, the index fingers touching and pointing upwards and the remaining fingers intertwined while he began to recite dark sutras.

The chain pentagram began to spin, wrapping the raging war god up as they burst into green flames with each sutra spoke. All of the fighting had ceased at the spectacle, and they all watched with horrified expressions regardless of which side they fought for as the god was turned into a deep black crystal statue with golden cracks atop its surface.

When the transformation had ceased, the demon floated down in front of the statue and tightened the chains until it shattered, leaving in the centre a floating iridescent gem in the shape of a heart. Aetna grabbed the soul gem with a wicked smile and swallowed it.

His twinkish body began to swell with muscle mass as he turned titanic in height. Four additional muscular arms punched out of the sides of his body and his hair turned white. Feeling the power thrum through his body, the demon couldn’t help but bellow in satisfaction.

What previously was a war between multiple races and each other became a desperate attempt to kill the sole demon and his six compatriots. The gods and angels tried to kill them out of revenge. The dragons and humans attacked in fear of being their next victims.

But they all failed under the might of the first Overlord, with more quickly being added to the ranks.

That day was the signal for a full war to start under the recognized threats and temptation, the demons presented.

—

I woke with a start, the feeling of two people’s memories snapping together over my own leaving me with a fucker of a headache.

With a groan, I sat up with slight confusion after realising I was in an unfamiliar room in an unfamiliar bed before remembering I got here which only made me groan even more. “Stupid annoying sleep magic…”

I stood up to leave the room but spared a moment to check to see if my kidnapper woke up after I did. After seeing what I did though, my feet carried me out of the room faster than I thought possible while I simultaneously cursed and thanked my memory strength.

“Wishing I could take a cold shower right now…”

The thankful sigh that left my mouth could not overstate my happiness to have found my books still sitting there in the living room. After quickly igniting the fireplace I sat down and grabbed the one fully centred around bodily alchemy. It wasn’t very in-depth, more like a crash course than anything, but the author Duke Barbaroa had a way of writing that made you fully understand his love for the craft, with almost every sentence being written in a way to entice you to ask more questions so you’ll learn more.

And I totally wasn’t reading just so I wouldn’t have to think about the dream. Totally.

I even remembered to consciously open up my pores more so I could absorb both the knowledge I was reading and the ambient ethernano simultaneously.

So colour my surprise when I heard the footfalls of my kidnapper coming down the stairs, now clad in more clothes. “Why in the hell are you awake at four in the morning? Are you allergic to sleep or something?” she yawned.

“It is usually when I do most of my studying,” I joked.

She looked at me incredulously while she sat down on the couch next to me. “Are you saying that instead of sleeping every night, you read? Bullshit.”

“Well, no, actually. Most of the time I meditate. Helps me digest what I have read and build up my magic power at the same time. You should try it sometime.”

“Yeah, no thank you.” Her attention turned towards the stack of books on the table. “Got anything noneducational in here?”

“I…don’t I do. Sorry.”

“Nerd.” She snorted.

I just shook my head at her as she stood up and went to the kitchen. It didn’t take long for the familiar fruity aroma of cold brew to waft through the living area and a mug to be placed on the table in front of me while Mira nursed her own.

I offered a quick thanks before taking a drink from mine and putting my book down.

It was a nice shift from how we were before she knocked me out. The previous jovial and boisterous conversation was now a pleasant and relaxing silence.

From the corner of my eye, I could see Mira reclining in the corner of the couch, one arm resting on the back of it while her other elbow was propped on the arm of the couch with the mug in hand. Her gaze was focused on me, and I couldn’t help but squirm under the unexpected attention.

I pulled my legs back into my chest as I let myself sink into the opposite side of the couch. I didn’t dislike the attention though, and found myself even “challenging” it. Just as she studied me, I studied her. Taking in the oh-so-different sight of the usually aggressive punk, my appreciation of the situation we were in grew. Her blue eyes were half-lidded yet focused, her body was entirely relaxed, her pale skin and hair glowed with an unnatural beauty in the presence of the fireplace’s purple glow, and the hair she usually had tied up was hanging loose and draped over her shoulder.

I couldn’t help but appreciate the sight of her letting her hair down, and struggled to retain the blush at the idea of seeing her like this at an older age. The eyebrow that quirked up told me I failed, which only made me blush more.

Still, the mental image of us in the future brought to me a question I’ve been trying to deny myself from thinking about. Taking in a shaky breath, I pulled my face out of my knees and started speaking. “I’ve been wondering about this since we first met,” I said placing my coffee down and taking in the look of interest and a slight smirk she had, “Purely hypothetically, if, if I was a devil would you use your magic on me?”

A few seconds passed in agonizing silence as sat herself up, placed her coffee next to mine, and looked at me with a look of betrayal and annoyance that twisted my gut. “I told you already how I was treated for just being part devil. But if you really want to know,” her hand quickly darted out and grabbed my chin while another trapped me between the couch and herself. Then, with an unexpected ease, all control over my body was stolen from me. I was putty in her hands, willing and accepting of whatever order she had, but still conscious. I wasn’t scared. I didn’t try to fight it. I trusted her. And if my eyes could widen at what she said afterwards, they would. “I would have done so long ago.”

Then, her control over my body was pulled back. Just as I felt my limbs become my own again, a brief, soft feeling pecked against my lips just before Mira turned to go up the stairs again with hurried footfalls. “Get some sleep, will ya. It can’t be good for you.”

When the sound of the door closing snapped me out of my daze, I grabbed the nearest pillow I could and screamed into it.

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