The Firelights of Summer

Ab Origine

Chapter 1: Ab Origine

Foreword: So, for those of you who remember—all three of you, I want to say—I wrote a story titled "The Firelights of Summer" in 2014. I was thirteen or fourteen, and while I don't spontaneously combust while simultaneously shedding my skin when rereading it, it's still not something I look back on proudly. So, in manner of rectification, I went back and rewrote the story. Not totally; the old document was used as a skeleton because I don't think every single idea I had was total garbage. I can say with certainty that this is the much better version of the story, although I will leave the old version up until I deem it entirely detrimental to my progression as a writer. The point of this is to retell the story with my skills over the last six years, and hopefully provide a better experience to whomever remembers it in its not-so-glorious condition. So thank you for reading this note, and I hope you enjoy what's beyond.

Chapter 1: Ab Origine

"Natsu," Wendy said softly into the pervasive darkness, "tell me the story again."

I've told this story many, many times, Natsu thought, but didn't say aloud. How could he blame her? There was little else to do aside from talk, aside from sitting and shitting and waiting for death. And he sure wasn't going to point that out to her; Gajeel, maybe, but not her. So he cleared his throat, sat back on the eons-worn futon with his back to the rough concrete, and told the story anew.

"Long before humans existed, there were dragons. Dragons as far as the eye could see, of all shapes and colors and sizes. They filled the air, the seas, the grassy plains and the deep jungles. The hottest volcanos and the rancid bogs. We were the top of the food chain, the primogenital kings of this world. No other animal could hold a candle to us.

"Slowly, from the mud humans rose. Clumsy, inefficient creatures incapable of speech, of medicine, very few with the gift and less who knew how to use it. However, dragons live a long time, and in that time we saw them grow. A slog for sure, their progress was infinitesimally slow, but eventually they learned the most basic of magics: earth, air, fire, water. These were magics intended for their survival—fire to warm them through the cold winters; earth to till the ground for farming; air to purify the sulfurous atmosphere around the bogs; water to give them drinks. We watched, not interfering but observing, watching, waiting...

"Then came the signature of the humans' presence: they began to fight. As civilization advanced and magic grew stronger, they broke into groups. These groups soon began to quarrel, quarrels which grew into large scale fights. Again, we were content to wait, but their fights were infringing upon our lands, and we moved to protect our own. The humans suddenly became oblivious to their own mistakes and took our defense as an act of war. Thus, the Dragon War began its centuries-long course."

Natsu cleared his throat and let the silence weigh down on them. He always told the story as Igneel had before him, but he could not pretend that he hadn't a bit of emotional investment in it. Wendy quietly asked him to continue, so he did.

"Some time into this war, one of our own did something that changed the entire course: he taught a woman our magic. This woman went on to become the first Dragon Slayer." He sighed and bowed his head. "I won't condone what our brethren have done in this war. Just as the humans have gone too far, so have we at times. But this...the Dragon Slayer Magic changed the tides completely, for within mere weeks, our people were cast from the skies and left never to see the light of day again.

"Many of our brothers and sisters were slaughtered until few remained. The most weakened were captured by the kingdom of Ishgal, giving the others a chance to escape. Injured as they were, they were not long for this world, and on his dying breath, Igneel left me these parting words."