FAIRY TAIL: What If Natsu Never Rescued Lucy from Phantom Lord?
What If Natsu Never Rescued Lucy from Phantom Lord?
Lucy Heartfilia ran away from home to join Fairy Tail, chasing freedom and a place to belong. But when the dark guild Phantom Lord sets its sights on her—and on Fairy Tail itself—the boy who was supposed to come for her is already gone, training far beyond Magnolia.
In a world where Natsu never returns in time, Lucy must face the shadow of her past alone. With the guild she loves under siege and her own secrets dragged into the light, she'll
FAIRY TAIL: What If Natsu Never Rescued Lucy from Phantom Lord? - The Star Spirit Princess at Rock Bottom — A Night When Tears Run Dry, Yet the Light Never Fades
The cold of the damp stone seeped through her back, down to the bone.
Lucy Heartfilia woke in the corner of the dungeon, her knees drawn up against her chest. She lifted her eyelids. What she saw was the same iron bars as yesterday. The same stone walls. The same crest glowing purple on the floor.
Gran Noir. The headquarters of the dark guild Phantom Lord. A fortress carved from the tunnels of an abandoned mine, and in its third underground level, this cell.
It was the morning of her third day since being taken.
(Morning... I think.)
A faint white light filtered through a high window. Dawn had come.
Lucy slowly looked down at her wrists.
Thick iron shackles bound both of them. Vile restraints that siphoned away her magic. A cold weight biting into her skin like a collar. She could feel the mana inside her body draining endlessly into the shackles. That sickening sensation, as though her very stamina were being scraped away bit by bit.
And then, the floor.
An ancient purple crest carved into the stone. A spirit-sealing sigil. It was this that suppressed the power of her Celestial Spirit keys. The magic the shackles drew in flowed into the crest, sustaining the seal.
A double seal.
(...I failed again.)
Lucy took a single key from the pouch at her hip.
A key gleaming gold, engraved with the mark of Aquarius. The key of the Celestial Spirit Aquarius.
Last night, and the night before, she had clutched this key and tried to summon, again and again.
But nothing happened.
The moment she tried to channel magic into it, the shackles on her wrists grew hot and drained it all away. The key flickered faintly for an instant, but she couldn't hear the spirit's voice. The door to the Spirit World remained firmly shut.
(Aquarius...)
She called out in her heart, in a voice that never reached her lips.
(Please. Answer me.)
There was no answer.
Lucy bit her lip. On the inside of her lower lip was a wound from biting it yesterday. The taste of iron spread slowly across her tongue.
(I won't cry. Crying won't change anything.)
She began to study the structure of the shackles once more.
Black metal. No seams. A completely seamless ring. But on the inner surface touching her skin, there was a very thin groove. This was the circuit that drew in magic. The magic it absorbed flowed through the groove and out to the exterior of the shackle.
(It's venting it outside...)
Lucy shifted her gaze to the outside of the shackle. The groove ended at the shackle's surface. But near that endpoint, there was a slight bulge.
(Here... is this where the magic collects?)
If the shackles gathered the magic they absorbed here first, then released it into the atmosphere—
(If I could break this reservoir...)
She might be able to stop the shackles from functioning.
But how? Her hands were still bound. She had no tools. Her magic was being drained.
(I still don't know.)
Lucy let out a small breath.
That was when it happened.
Clank—a sound came from beyond the iron bars.
The sound of the corridor door opening. Then, multiple footsteps. Rough, men's footsteps.
Lucy hastily hid the key in her pouch and drew her knees back up.
Three men stood before the iron bars.
Members of Phantom Lord. Not the guards—men with far cruder smiles.
"Well now, milady. It's breakfast time."
The man in front slid a black loaf of bread and a bowl of water roughly across the floor through the gap in the bars. The bread rolled across the stone and stopped at Lucy's feet.
"Today's special—I even gave you water. Be grateful."
Lucy stared silently at the bread.
The same hard black bread as yesterday. The water was slightly cloudy.
"Hey, you gonna eat or what? I went to the trouble of bringing it."
The man kicked the iron bars with a clang.
Lucy's shoulders jumped slightly.
"...I don't want it."
Her voice came out smaller than she'd expected.
"Huh? Can't hear you."
The man cupped a hand to his ear.
"I said I don't want it."
Lucy raised her head. She looked the men straight in the eye.
The men flinched for a moment.
But they quickly plastered their vulgar grins back on.
"Heh, still got some spirit in you, huh. Impressive."
The third man crouched down and peered at Lucy through the gap in the bars.
"Hey, milady. You realize what position you're in?"
"..."
"You're locked up in here. No one's coming to save you. Nobody's coming to help you at all."
The man's voice echoed through the cell.
"Your guild abandoned you. That Fairy Tail guild, they're too scared of the Council to make a move. Pathetic, ain't it."
Lucy's chest tightened.
(That's not true. Everyone isn't like that.)
She argued back in her heart.
But no voice came out.
"And on top of that, your old man. Lord Heartfilia himself, he ain't worried about you one bit."
"...What?"
"Course not. He's the one who had you grabbed, after all. Paid good money, hired a dark guild. To get his own daughter back. Hah."
The men burst out laughing.
"To your father, you're just a money tree. A tool to marry off for political gain and expand the family business. You ran away, so he paid to drag you back. That's the whole story."
"Nobody loves you. Not your father, not your guild—nobody even looks at you. Whatever happens to you here, nobody's gonna shed a tear."
"...That's not true."
A hoarse voice slipped from Lucy's lips.
"That's not true. Everyone isn't like that. Natsu, and Happy, and Gray, and Erza, all of them..."
"Huh? Where's this Natsu guy, then? He ain't here now, is he? He wasn't at the guild when you got grabbed, was he? Off on some training trip while you were in trouble, wasn't he?"
The man's words stabbed into Lucy's chest like a sharp blade.
"You're not needed by anyone."
"...Stop it."
"Stop it? Stop what? I'm just telling you the truth. You oughta be thanking me."
"Stop... please..."
Lucy covered her ears with both hands.
The shackles bit coldly into her skin.
(That's not true. That's not true. Everyone cares about me...)
But deep in her heart, a small voice whispered.
(Really? Can you really say that for certain?)
She'd only been in the guild a short time. Her jobs had been one failure after another. She'd caused everyone trouble.
(Was I ever useful to everyone?)
(Was I really needed?)
(Father... what did he think of me?)
Lucy's vision blurred.
"Ooh, gonna cry? Cry, cry. A milady's crying face is quite a sight."
The men's vulgar laughter echoed through the cell.
Lucy bit down hard on her lip.
She wouldn't cry. If she cried, it would be exactly what they wanted.
But the tears wouldn't stop.
"...Get out."
Her voice trembled.
"Oh, an order given through tears—I'm overwhelmed. But unfortunately, this ain't your house. Get out? We're the ones who run this place."
The man kicked the iron bars once more.
Clang—a loud noise.
Lucy's body jerked.
"Well, take your time thinking it over. Really let it sink in, just how much your daddy loves you."
The men left down the corridor, laughing.
Their footsteps faded into the distance.
For a while, Lucy couldn't move.
She slowly lowered the hands that had been covering her ears.
A tear fell onto her palm.
(...That's not true.)
(That's not true. I believe in them.)
(I believe in everyone.)
Lucy raised her head.
Beyond her tear-blurred vision, she could see the iron bars. Beyond them, the purple light.
(But...)
Deep in her heart, the men's words repeated over and over.
'Nobody loves you.'
'You're not needed by anyone.'
'Whatever happens to you here, nobody's gonna shed a tear.'
(That's not true. That's not true. That's not true.)
Lucy shook her head.
But each time, the tears spilled over.
—
Some time past noon.
Lucy sat leaning against the wall.
She hadn't touched the black bread. She hadn't taken a single sip of water.
(I'm hungry. But I can't bring myself to eat.)
Her tears had dried before she knew it.
But inside her heart, everything was still churning.
(I wonder how everyone's doing right now.)
Were they raising a ruckus at the guild hall as usual? Or were they worried about her?
(Natsu...)
Sakura-colored hair. A white-scaled scarf. Her hot-blooded partner who was always smiling.
(Where are you now, Natsu?)
He'd gone off to train and hadn't come back. Did he even know she'd been taken? If he knew, he'd surely come charging in to save her at full speed.
(But Natsu won't come.)
He couldn't. It was too far. The mountain roads had collapsed in the storm.
(Happy's with him, too.)
A small cat with blue fur. Easygoing, marching to his own beat, but so very kind.
(I want to hear Happy's "Aye!" again.)
Lucy closed her eyes.
The lively voices of the guild. Mira's counter. The request board. Everyone's smiles.
(...I want to go home.)
She thought it from the bottom of her heart.
That was when it happened.
Click, click, click.
Footsteps echoed from down the corridor.
These footsteps were different from the men's earlier. Quieter, keeping a steady rhythm.
Lucy's spine straightened.
(These footsteps...)
She knew them.
A single man stood before the iron bars.
A white suit. Long crimson-purple hair tied back. Cold gray eyes. A thin smile at his lips.
Jose Porla. Master of Phantom Lord. One of the Ten Wizard Saints.
"Well now, young lady. Did you get some rest?"
Jose's voice was terribly gentle. Gentlemanly, polite, as though speaking to an old friend.
But Lucy already knew there was bottomless coldness behind that smile.
"...What do you want?"
Still leaning against the wall, Lucy glared at Jose.
"Kukuku... Glad to see you're well. Though you look a little paler than yesterday."
Jose stood before the bars, gazing down at Lucy.
"Get to the point. Just looking at your face makes me sick."
"My, how harsh. But I don't dislike that spirit. Far more interesting than a daughter as obedient as a doll."
Jose drew an envelope from his suit pocket.
"A report arrived from your father's physician. Would you like to read it?"
"..."
Lucy watched Jose in silence.
"Not reading it? Then allow me to summarize. Your father's condition has worsened sharply over the past few days. The doctor's estimate is that he has only a few days left—a week at most."
Lucy's heart lurched.
"...You're lying."
"I am not. Here is a diagnosis signed by the physician. The Heartfilia family doctor, Galdo Schneider. You know him, don't you?"
Galdo Schneider. The Heartfilia family physician. An old doctor who had tended to the family's health since Lucy was small.
(That doctor...)
"Your father lies on his sickbed, not knowing where you are. They say he calls your name over and over in his delirium, begging to see his daughter one last time. A pitiful thing."
Jose's voice was as gentle as ever.
But his words squeezed mercilessly at Lucy's heart.
"...Father, calling for me..."
"Yes. Calling your name, they say. Lucy, Lucy. A loving father's painful final days."
Lucy's vision began to blur again.
(Father...)
Memories from her childhood flashed before her eyes.
Back when her mother Layla was still alive. Her father used to lift her up in his arms. He'd pick flowers in the garden and tuck them into her hair. The kind father from before his work consumed him.
(But after Mother died...)
Father changed. He buried himself in work and stopped looking at her. And then he forced a political marriage on her.
(I hated that, so I ran away from home.)
(Not the life Father decided for me—I wanted to walk my own path.)
(...And yet.)
Lucy's lips trembled.
"...Father made me a tool for a political marriage. Without ever asking how I felt."
"Perhaps so. But even so, you still want to be at your father's deathbed, don't you?"
"..."
"Don't tell me you don't want to see him. Your eyes say otherwise."
Jose returned the envelope to his inner pocket.
"I'll be blunt. I want your signature on the documents concerning the inheritance of the Heartfilia estate. Sign them, and I'll send you to the capital at once. In time for
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