The Hunt

Prologue

In the creeping raining night, while most kins got their nights rest. No one could hear the faint footsteps crashing against the puddles of the stone brick streets. She was a beauty. With hair as red as a crimson sunset, eyes that bore such intensity, not to mention how she glowed with natural beauty,

She panicked as she could hear the cry of his horse. She knew that she couldn't outrun a horse, but for the slight chance, if she could just outsmart it, then they would surely be fine. The sound of the infant in her arms did not help their chances of running away, "please, quite down my baby," she cried, as she covered the baby's rosy cheeks with a dirty cloth, all she really had to protect her precious bundle of joy from the cold climates of the stormy nights of Paris .

"Ahead! We are close men!" she could hear his voice echoing through the allies of which she ran upon.

She tightened her grip on the basket which held her beautiful baby girl, "we are almost there," she reassured her, even though she knew that the little one didn't know a word of what she was saying, but seeing the toothless smile appear on the young one's face was just enough to put enough hope in her heart. Soon her baby was calmed down and lightly laughing, just being with her mother filling joy within her tiny heart.

"Where did she go? How could we have lost her?" the sound of her lover's voice filled her ears, as she stepped closer into her hiding spot.

She stepped out of her corner when she knew that she was safe she hurried to the Seine River of Paris, a mystical place, especially at night, but not as magical on a rainy night. In the summer you would find fireflies swarming the river, their light shining with the moon and stars.

She kneeled down, and waited patiently, soon enough a canoe came rolling down as the rain had finally calmed down. The only sounds you could hear were the sounds of droplets and the baby squirming a bit in the basket, chewing on her baby blanket. "Hello child," the raspy voice of an old friend entered her ears, "when I got your message, I was quick to act."

"Makarov," she said, relieved for her savior, "please," she pushed the basket towards him, "please help her," she pleaded.

He took the basket, confused, he eyed it then took the handle in his dry and wrinkled palms, he lifted the dirty rag from the face of a newborn angel. She was wrapped in a baby blanket, something he recognized her mother, Irene, have too, when she was just a child. He was pleased to see such a beautiful infant, but confused, "what do you want me to do?" he feared her next words, counting the seconds of how long it took her to reply.

"Do the same thing you did with me," she said, "please, just take care of her," Irene pleaded, "I can't afford to raise her, to raise her like you would," she said.

"I warned you child, of the risks outside the Court of Miracles," he said, "what has happened?" he asked.

"Its the general, he's after me," Irene said with fear laced in her voice, "he wants me, but he doesn't know about her, you're the only other person who has found me," she said.

Makarov brushed his finger over the playful baby, she played with his finger, wrapping her tiny fists around his single finger, her cheeks are so soft, is what he thought to himself, soon enough her eyes filled with joy, fascinated at the foreign object in her hair, soon enough she started to light laugh, playing with her new amusement.

"See, she already likes you," Irene stated, as she brushed her thumb against her pink cheeks. He had never seen a happier baby, none happier than this one.

"What is her name?" he asked, as he looked down at the little cherub. She was like something out of a fairytale. With rosy cheeks, a tender smile, eyes of joy, and the few strands of scarlet tresses sprouting from the top of her head.

Irene smiled, "her name," she said, as she looked lovingly towards her baby, "her name is Erza," she told him.

Makarov pulled the basket to his side, "what is your plan?" he asked, "how will you get away?" he wondered.

"I have a friend who is willing to keep me at his safe haven for a while," She said, pulling her hood over her red hair, "I will contact you once again when I am in the clear."

"I see," he said, "well I bid you a do," he said, and brought the basket back up, "final goodbyes?" he asked, a hint of sadness laced within his words.

Irene took baby Erza our of her basket, yet still was wrapped in the comfort of her blanket, "you are my sunshine," she sang, her tears rolled down to the curve of her chin, "my little sunshine, you make me-" she stuttered her way through the song, as she rubbed the little one's cheeks, "you make me happy, when skies are gray, you'll never know de-" suddenly the sounds of raging horses through the silent night of Paris rang through the their ears.

"I heard something, this way!" she heard the all too familiar voice of the general.

"You must run and hide!" urged the old man.

"Yes, thank you," she said as she kissed her baby's forehead and placed her in the safe arms of Makarov, "I love you," she said, "I will find my way back to you."

Irene saw her beloved child off as Makarov guided the boat into the shadows of the night, "you'll never know dear, how much I love you, now please don't take my sunshine away," she reached out as the boat got further and further away, but took her hand back to her side, knowing that she was giving her bundle of joy the best chance she had.

If only they had known that she would have never made it back to her little scarlet angel.