The Ice Dragon Slayer: Hero {Fairy Tail Fan Fiction}

{Chapter 7}

In a tub of ice cold water barenaked and shivering uncontrollably was how the young Hero was conditioned to accept the cold as part of her body rather than just a place for her body to be. Hero again was in the all blue tinted scenery, except for the brown, wooden tub and the seven year old girl. Hero looked up to see a giant white dragon with bright blue eyes. The dragon was starving, elderly, and slowly dying. It was amazing how Hero knew all of that just by looking at its appearance for a few moments. The dragon leaned its head down next to the tub of water, whispering quietly to the young dragon slayer-to-be.

"You do not have to push yourself to adapt. Your body will do that on its own." The dragon had a very feminine voice, so Hero would assume it was female. She looked like she was in pain when she spoke, obviously not having much time left before she would meet her end. The young Hero shook her head defiantly, hair frozen in some areas. "If I don't prepare soon, you won't get the chance to pass down your legacy." She stuttered multiple times through her statements. For a young girl, she knew more than she should have ever learned, "Besides, it's been a year now. My body should be used to this."

With a small huff, the frost dragon did not protest and allowed the girl to continue with her conditioning. A bright flash blinded Hero for a moment until the light dimmed and it was a different scene. This time the young Hero was ten years old. Her long hair was up in a high ponytail and all she was wearing was a black wrap around her tiny breasts and a pair of shorts that reached half-way down her thighs. Stood in the snow barefoot, she took a defensive stance and began to kick at an ice dummy. The tops of her feet were bleeding, but not so much that it was an emergency. Had her body been warm, it probably would have been a problem.

Some blood splashed on the dummy, and the dragon demanded that Hero stop before she hurt herself even more. Young Hero clenched her hands into fists, blood dripping from her knuckles as well. "Glashon, I want to keep going." Her voice tried to stay calm, even though it was obvious that she was in agonizing pain. The dragon sighed, again not willing to bicker with the young girl and allowing her to push herself to her limits. Hero walked towards herself, closely examining the fighting pattern and realizing she had never once used it before; at least not from what she could recall. She tried to mimic the image, and she did so flawlessly. Almost like she had been doing it her whole life.

Identically, the two Hero's looked up to Glashon for approval, and the dragon just nodded. Hero had not seen it as a child, but the old dragon was grinning. Glashon, in her own reverse psychology kind of way, was really the reason why Hero was so stubborn and pushed herself all those nights long ago. By telling Hero the story of her life, which was a long and sad story, the frost dragon gained sympathy from the small girl who should have been mourning the loss of her mother at the time. To store away the grief of a losing a loved one and to fulfill the dream of a dying saint, Hero had agreed to train under the tender dragon. It was coming back to her, slowly. The sleepless nights, the conditioning, the loving foster mother. She could remember them now, the three years she spent learning her dragon slayer magic.

Another bright flash of light blinded Hero and she brought up her hand to cover her eyes. When she removed her hand, she was back to when she was seven years old again. Her younger self was crying, curled up at the bottom of a tree a mile outside of the nearest town. Hero knelt down beside herself, "What happened?" She whispered. Anything before this day was still a blur to her, other than those two memories of her parents. A few voices could be heard from the other side of the tree, and the young Hero stopped crying just to stare down at the ground in fear. Hero looked behind the tree to see a group with the same wolf symbol as the one from her other memory. Without concern for her well-being, the young Hero stood up and started sprinting towards the mountains. The group spotted her and began to chase after her, and soon the group faded to black just as the combat from her other memory had. She had not seen them, so in her mind they did not exist, until the loud screams of sheer pain echoed in her head. The group of men swore and threatened an opponent that Hero could not see and with the last thud of noise which she believed to be the last body dropping, everything went silent.