Dawn
August 24th 1980 - Wool's Orphanage
Underneath the canopy of roaring clouds, the moon cast a ghostly glow upon the cityscape. Rain cascaded down, drumming a relentless rhythm onto the streets lined with stoic buildings of stone and glass. Among them stood the main structure, its silhouette dominating the skyline, a guardian adorned with a simple bronze bell that peered over the nocturnal symphony.
Amidst the dreary palette of grey, a splash of soft knitted orange caught the eye, contrasting against the sombre surroundings. A cot rested gently on the damp cobble steps, its occupant shielded by a tepid blanket, cocooned in innocence against the elements.
As if guided by unseen hands, warm luminous light danced through dimmed windows, casting fleeting shadows upon the weathered façade. The approaching figure, marked by steady footsteps, emerged from the cloak of darkness into view, their presence barely discernible amidst the symphony of raindrops.
"I'm coming!" The words, uttered in a scratchy yet kind voice, pierced the night, carrying a promise of solace despite the harshness of the storm. Light and footsteps converged as the ancient oak door creaked open, revealing the weary countenance of a middle-aged woman, her years etched upon her face and reflected in the depths of her dull black eyes.
Surveying the scene before her, the matron's gaze fell upon the cot, a familiar sight in unfamiliar silence. Instead of the usual cries, two cold purple eyes met hers, brimming with curiosity. Undeterred by the eerie stillness, she closed the distance with measured steps. Her form trembled slightly in the embrace of the biting wind, her only shield a thin green cardigan.
With a tenderness born of endless compassion, she lifted the cot into her arms, cradling the precious burden within. As she gazed into the depths of the infant's eyes, a faint giggle escaped its lips, a melody of innocence in the midst of chaos, melting the matron's resolve.
"Hee hee," the sound echoed in the night, a beacon of hope amidst the darkness, breaking down the barriers of weariness and despair. With a resigned smile, the matron whispered her acceptance, her kind voice cutting through the tempest.
"Alright, come in then." Embracing the warmth of the moment, she nestled the cot closer, seeking solace in the shared embrace before retreating into the shelter of the welcoming abode.
Silence descended once more upon the courtyard, punctuated only by the soft creaking of the door and the fading echo of footsteps.
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October 25th 1983
Fire crackled, casting a warm, homely glow over the cracked wooden chair and the uneven juttings of wooden shelves cradling various books. A fuzzy white blanket draped lazily over one side, adding to the cozy atmosphere.
A merry laugh, filled with contentment, echoed through the room.
"Hahaha, that's enough for tonight," chimed the matron, her voice younger but still containing its scratchy nature, as she playfully nudged the small figure nestled on her lap.
"Come on, just one more!" pleaded an earnest voice, the cold haze of purple eyes dispelled by years of companionship. The boy, with his jet black hair elegantly tousled, remained insistent.
Still chuckling, the matron continued to tease the three-year-old, eliciting a crinkled face in response to her playful prodding.
"No, it's time for bed, my dear," she replied in a soft, sweet tone, interwoven with the rustle of fabric, as she rose from the chair, the boy still in her arms.
With a hint of reluctance in his eyes, the boy allowed himself to be carried out of the room and into the colder halls, the matron embracing him closely like a hot water bottle.
Fond eyes watched from above his vision as they made their way towards the cubicle rooms.
The door swung open effortlessly, lacking the usual creak of its counterparts, a privilege reserved for the matron's favourites.
A gentle purple light spilled from the room, emanating from an esoteric nightlight that guarded against the encroaching darkness.
Along one wall stood smaller, child-sized bookshelves, flanking a nightstand adorned with the same gentle glow. Opposite, a plush bed beckoned invitingly, adorned with layers of comforting covers.
But the centerpiece of the room, towering almost to the ceiling, was an ornate wardrobe adorned with intricate carvings. Its doors revealed four smaller compartments, each housing an array of toys, clothes, and toiletries.
This thoughtful gift was bestowed upon the boy by sympathetic benefactors, won over by his charm and intelligence at an early age. Though unable to adopt him, the wife doted on him, while the husband acquiesced to occasional visits and gifts.
With practiced ease, the matron lowered the boy into his bed, tucking him in with a gentle touch.
"Matron, can you read to me tomorrow?" the uncertain yet endearing voice called out, prompting a smile from the matron.
"Of course, my dear Bondrewd. I'll read to you every night," she replied, her voice filled with happiness and a hint of playful teasing.
Bondrewd, a name steeped in Celtic origins, meaning "Druid of flames or light," was embroidered on the blanket that enveloped him, a fitting tribute to the light he brought into her life.
"Goodnight, my dear. I'm sure you'll be great one day," she whispered, planting a tender kiss on his forehead before departing, the soft click of the door signalling her exit.
Silence descended upon the room, the harshness of the corridor's light fading. The bookshelf seemed to loom eerily, casting long shadows as tree branches scratched against the window like clawed hands.
Among the books, titles such as "How to Read a Person Like a Book" and "Propaganda: The Formation of Men's Attitudes" gleamed in the dim light, slightly askew an action which the ignorant Matron found cute as Bondrewd tried to impress the peers that often spoiled him with his knowledge.
"The greatest," a colder voice intoned, as harsh purple light illuminated Bondrewd's face, disdainful purple eyes fixed on the door.
Through the dimly lit room, the young boy's gaze lingered on the golden titles of books, his mind alight with curiosity and wonder. His fingers traced the spines, lingering on the previous titles each offering a glimpse into the complexities of the world beyond his grasp.
As he reached for a particularly intriguing volume, his attention was drawn to a faint scratching at the window. Outside, the branches of a nearby tree danced in the wind, casting eerie shadows across the room. Yet, despite the foreboding atmosphere, the boy remained undeterred, his thirst for knowledge outweighing any sense of fear.
"The greatest," he repeated to himself, his voice a mere whisper against the backdrop of silence. With a determined glint in his cold purple eyes, he settled back into his bed, the warmth of the covers cocooning him in a sense of security.
As he drifted off to sleep, the room enveloped in a soft purple glow, he couldn't shake the feeling of anticipation stirring within him. Tomorrow held the promise of new discoveries and adventures, and he was ready to embrace them all with the unwavering courage of a true seeker of knowledge.
PENSAMENTOS DOS CRIADORES 
Cainmiddy
Cainmiddy Hey, it's been a while. In this time I have started college and such. The previous fanfiction has been dropped for a few reasons. I don't have enough insight into fairy tail to create a good narrative and quite simply, it was a story written modeling those that I read at the time which was all MTL chinese translations. This current project, I am much happier with so far and I am much happier writing it, I want to write something I can be proud of and I think it's a step in the right direction. I have also planned this one out a lot and done a significant amount of research. Anywho, all feedback is appreciated.
-Peace
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