The Silence of Revenge (Fairy Tail Fan-Fiction)

Guess You and I Aren't Too Different, Are We?

The Silence of Revenge – Chapter 3 (Fairy Tail Fan-Fiction)

Stiffening, Celena's breath caught in her throat as she watched the tip of the assassin's sword soar toward her. In the blade, she could see the reflection of her wide, fear-filled green-eyes, which glistened like two emeralds set in the smooth steel. Every molecule of her being screamed for her to protect herself, move, run away, do anything but standstill; however, she ignored the protests of her rational mind and remained there, because she deserved to die—she deserved to meet the same fate as those men and women that she'd murdered.

Suddenly, there was a flash of light refracting off metal, and in the next instance, the katana that had been on a straight path toward her heart was sent flying across the room in the opposite direction, before embedding itself cleanly in the wall, a puff of plaster showering down behind it. Looking beside her, Celena saw Erza glaring at the figures in front of them. In her hand was a silver short sword with a pearl pommel and black-onyx handle, which looked like three vines twisting around each other.

"Draw your weapon," the warrior commanded angrily, sending Celena a look of pure enragement. "You do not atone for the sins that you've committed by letting yourself be killed—you atone for them by doing good deeds and helping others! Now, I tell you once more, draw your weapon!"

Swiftly, Celena grasped the cold linen of the tsukamaki and pulled her katana from its scabbard. The blade shone in the pale light like obsidian as she positioned it in front of herself defensively, and just barely visible—climbing its way to the tip of the sword—was the engraving of a golden dragon that spewed scarlet flames from its gaping mouth. "Kinryu," she whispered to the sword, "lend me your strength. Give me the power to defeat this enemy. I humbly ask this of you, for it is time—time to step back into the light."

Beneath her hands, the weapon began to grow hot and pulse like it was a living thing with its own beating heart and soul. Then, suddenly, a bright light the same rich color as the morning sun shot from the blade, filling the room with its beauty, and while her enemy was distracted by the unexpected radiance, Celena launched herself forward, and brought her katana down. She felt it meet with something solid, and soon after, the sound of cloth tearing and flesh shredding met her ears, making her grimace. Spinning around, she connected her blade with the person once more, this time there was a quiet gurgle, and then they hit the ground with a dull thud that made her heart ache.

Whirling about, Celena searched through the light surrounding her, trying to locate the rest of her opponents, but she saw nothing, and that made her fearful. What if they went after Erza? Suddenly, pain erupted in her side as she felt the cold tip of a sword slice through the skin just below her ribcage. Crying out in pure agony, Celena spun around and thrust her sword forward, but it met only empty air.

Listen, she told herself, feel their movements, and strike where they are going to be—not where they are. Closing her eyes, Celena slowed her breathing and focused on her surroundings: the shift of the floorboards beneath her feet, the quiet sound of air separating as blades sought their way to their opponents, the buzz of metal hitting metal, and the smell of blood slithering on the air.

There was a large weight transfer to her right, and she struck out toward it, her radiant blade striking another with a loud resonating clang. Flicking the tip of her katana, she redirected the attack, before launching herself forward and driving her blade into the person's chest. Spinning around, she pulled the blade out in a large arch, and brought it down, grimacing as she felt it cut through the flesh of the third assassin; however, the blow wasn't a killing one, and the next moment, Celena felt her flesh being torn and bone shattered as the blade of her opponent imbedded itself just below her collarbone.