Location: Rosemary Village
Month / Year: June, X775
Age:
Kaito — 10 years old
Erza — 10 years old
---
Rosemary Village had always been quiet at night.
Not the dead silence of abandoned places, but the soft, breathing quiet of a village that trusted the dark. Crickets sang. Wind brushed through the trees at the edge of the forest. Lamps glowed faintly behind wooden windows.
Kaito noticed the wrongness first.
He paused mid-step on the dirt path, basket of dried herbs hanging from his arm. The forest—normally alive even at night—had gone still.
Too still.
> Great Sage, he thought calmly.
"Multiple hostile presences detected.
Direction: Eastern treeline.
Estimated count: 14.
Intent analysis: Abduction-oriented behavior."
Kaito's jaw tightened.
That was enough.
He didn't shout. Didn't run. He simply turned and walked—slow, deliberate—toward the village center where Erza was helping an elderly woman secure her door.
Erza saw his expression and stiffened instantly.
"…Kaito?"
"Get ready," he said quietly. "They're here."
Her grip tightened on the wooden beam she was holding.
"How many?"
"Enough."
That was all she needed.
---
The attack began without ceremony.
Dark figures slipped out of the trees, cloaks ragged, weapons crude but sharp. Chains clinked softly. One of them laughed under his breath.
"Easy pickings," a man muttered. "Small village. Kids everywhere."
They split into groups, moving toward houses.
They never made it.
A stone whistled through the air and crushed into the knee of the first cultist with bone-shattering force. He screamed and collapsed.
"What—?!"
Kaito stepped into the lamplight.
Ten years old. Calm eyes. No fear.
The second cultist rushed him, dagger raised.
Kaito moved.
One step in. Elbow to the throat. Twist. A short blade flashed—wood-handled, perfectly balanced—and struck the man's wrist. Tendons snapped. The dagger fell.
Kaito kicked him down without looking.
Erza moved at the same moment.
Her magic surged—not explosively, but decisively.
Space folded.
A crimson armor formed around her in a flash of light, solidifying as if it had always been there. A sword followed, heavy and real in her grip.
One of the cultists froze.
"What the hell kind of magic—"
Erza didn't let him finish.
She closed the distance in a blur and struck him across the chest with the flat of her blade. He flew backward and slammed into a wall, unconscious before he hit the ground.
More cultists shouted now—confused, panicked.
"This wasn't supposed to happen!"
"Just kids—!"
They tried to regroup.
They failed.
---
Kaito moved like a ghost through the chaos.
Every motion was efficient. No wasted strength. No unnecessary cruelty.
A chain snapped as he yanked it free and used it to bind two attackers together. A thrown dagger hit a shoulder joint with surgical precision.
> "Predator: Analysis complete.
Enemy combat patterns: crude, untrained.
Threat level: negligible."
Kaito adjusted without thinking.
He used the terrain. Doorways. Corners. Shadows.
A cultist tried to flee—Kaito stepped behind him and struck the base of the skull with a wooden baton. Clean. Immediate.
Meanwhile, Erza stood at the center of the street.
And tested herself.
She summoned.
Armor vanished. Another replaced it—lighter, faster. Different sword. Different balance.
Her breathing was steady. Focused.
A cultist charged her with a spear.
She switched armor mid-step.
The spear glanced off reinforced plating that hadn't existed a heartbeat ago. Her counterstrike disarmed him and dropped him to the ground in one motion.
Her magic answered her will.
Not perfectly yet—but enough.
---
It was over in minutes.
Fourteen cultists lay unconscious, bound, or broken across the dirt road.
None dead.
Kaito stood near the edge of the village, wiping blood from his blade before storing it away. His breathing was calm.
Erza looked around slowly.
The village was intact.
People began to emerge—shaking, terrified, then stunned as they took in the scene.
"They… they're gone?" someone whispered.
Kaito nodded. "They won't be back."
Erza turned toward the forest—the direction the cultists had come from.
"…This won't stop," she said quietly.
"No," Kaito agreed. "It won't."
They looked at each other.
No dramatic declaration. No speeches.
Just understanding.
Rosemary Village was no longer safe—not because it was weak, but because the world was cruel.
That night, they made their decision.
---
At dawn, two figures stood at the village edge.
Light packs. Weapons secured. Erza's magic settled quietly within her, her pocket dimension stable and real.
Kaito adjusted the strap on his bag.
"Fairy Tail," Erza said.
"Fairy Tail," he confirmed.
They turned their backs on Rosemary Village—not in fear, but because they had outgrown it.
And walked forward.
---