Weaknesses. Everyone has them, but some are just lucky (or sometimes even unlucky) enough to discover them. Butterfly Village is secluded and peaceful, and it is home to one undercover wielder-of-magic, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. The alchemist thought...
A/N: Hey, this is MutedRainand MaybelleValentine with an AU for you! We hope you enjoy this mystical, magical fanfiction.
Update: We apologize for the inconvenience, but the italicizations of thoughts, stressed words, and onomatopoeia were lost when transferring this chapter onto Wattpad. That has been fixed, but the effects won't show up for a couple days at most.
Chapter 1 "Welcome to Butterfly Village"
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There was, once upon a time, in the Kingdom of Adelaveth, a village among the flat, grassy outskirts of Mallowcrest fief. It lay quite away from the castle, a quickly built but now refortified town, a result of a war long ago. However, no signs of war remained and any traveler would swear the village had always been a placid haven of butterflies. The village harbored a lazy community, villagers finishing the essential work at a lethargic pace. The summer sun glared unforgivingly down at the humble village, and the toiling folk below lingered in the shade, moving into the heat only when necessary. Others were more than happy to stay indoors, locked up in their cool homes and protected from the harsh rays of the afternoon sun. Not that it wasn't like that on most days. With nothing spectacular ever coming the village's way, the people lived through the same dull routines for years, and as far as they were concerned, as long as there was food on the table and water in the well, they were living life to the fullest. Life had become predictable and nothing more than a leisure, and at the time the aching weather was only offering another excuse for yet another lazy day. Of course, there were a few young folk with some energy left in them, but it seemed that the only things that were somewhat exciting in the dreary town were the butterflies flitting about. It were as if the village wasn't a people's village at all but rather a butterflies' village. Thus, the name: Butterfly Village.
Although Butterfly Village was often labeled as boring for its uneventfulness, it was by no doubt a peaceful, carefree town. A few folk busied themselves with errands, going out to pick flowers, tend to their crops or simply go out for a little walk despite the hot weather.
An old lady hobbled along the pebbled pathway through the village, her walking stick padding alongside her. She was frail, and her whole form quivered as she walked, her robes sliding over the uneven trail behind her. Thinning blades of grass punctuated openings in the cobblestone. Her eyes were focused on the ground before her, but her gaze soon lifted to stare at a speckled sparrow, its feathers a velvety red, resting in the nook of a tree to the side of the path, claws clutching the gnarled bark of a branch.
It was staring straight at her, peculiarly enough, and it tilted its head before prying its beak open and letting out a little chirp. The bird then turned with short hops to look at something ahead of the lady, something just up ahead on the road. It turned back to her and then back ahead, indicating for her to look as well. "Tweet tweet! Tweet tweet!" A loose leaf feathered the air and drifted to the ground.
