"I love you," a small girl whispered to her partner. They were lying together in an open field, gazing at the beautiful night sky. The girl rolled over on her side, her short, curly, lavender hair brushing against the young man's ear. She lightly caressed his thinly clothed chest and kissed his cheek gently. Her lover chuckled at her and ran his fingers along her jaw.

Their whole relationship was a soft one, no different than a down-feathered pillow; they treated each other with the utmost care, both physically and emotionally.

"I love you too." He kissed her forehead and held her close.

The moon passed upwards in the sky, finally making it directly above their faces. They knew what this meant; it was time to separate. Go home to their respective families. Their relationship was a complete secret, but not because their families disliked each other. It was actually because her family picked a less-than-desirable suitor for her: a dumb, overpowered jock. Unfortunately for the man she truly loved, that suitor was very strong with a semi-wealthy family. The poor farm-boy would never have stood a chance if they went public with their love.

They stood slowly and reluctantly. Their hands brushed together as they drifted apart. They did not dare to kiss each other goodbye; they knew that if they did, they would never leave.

…..X…x…X…..

There's fire. Fire everywhere. I can't breathe.

The young man woke up with a shock from his nightmare, panting furiously. He looked up at his ceiling. Slowly, he turned his gaze to the window to his right. There was a nice view outside of his house; he could always see the sunset above a small line of trees. It was about to do so. He watched it quietly, the warm pinks and oranges soothing his heart.

After a little bit of this, he sat up. He was already dressed, so he wasted no time in leaving the house. He did not eat breakfast.

"Tarou's a loser!" he heard a group of boys cackling. They were circled around a smaller boy who was crouched on the ground. The boy had his knees to his chest, his hands protecting his neck. One of the older children kicked him in the ribs. Choking, the little boy collapsed on his side.

"Aren't you supposed to be a wizard, Tarou?" they laughed cruelly.

"Enough." Our young man approached them silently and quickly, like a feline predator. He was silently fuming. The bullies felt the change in the air and turned panicked. They stared up into the young man's blood-red eyes. As slowly as they could, they backed away before scampering.

The little boy looked up at his savior in a mix between, caution, awe, and gratitude, but he was already walking away.

…..X…x…X…..

"There's been a prophecy," the people murmured anxiously. "Many people are going to die."

"I'm scared."

"What about my children?"

"We can't go on living in fear."

The paranoia started to fester in the village. Words of deadly prophecy spread near and far across the large place. The fear was hardly ever voiced. It couldn't be. There was hundreds of people living in that village. If the fear was vocalized, it would smother them, suffocate them, until they drove themselves mad.

Soon, the dread-filled mutterings reached the ears of our young lovers. They looked at each other fearfully, their eyes screaming when they could not do so. There was to be a gathering. Everyone in the village was to go, no exceptions. They couldn't be together.

…..X…x…X…..

There were outraged cries coming from the masses of people, all gathered around a podium of sorts. There was an oracle standing on it, an ancient, wizened woman, sheathed in a black cloak. When she spoke, her voice was low and powerful. It demanded respect.

"I understand," she began, "that you're angry with what I have prophesized. However…" Silence hung over the people. "…I am only a messenger. There is to be a new god. Humans must be sacrificed."

"Is this new god here? Now?"

There was no response.

Suddenly, the old woman vanished into thin air. The shock from the crowd was so strong that the people were stunned into silence through its heaviness.

Then the fire began.

It roared furiously and devoured as many people as it could, allowing very little to escape from its clutches. It cackled and crackled around the poor villagers. It was a very quick event. It was almost as if the fire was an assassin; it quickly overtook its victims. It paid no mind to the tornados of chaos erupting around it. The screams of the dying, the peril of the few who had to live—it was deaf to this. Soon, it was over, and there were only twenty people remaining. They flew to the forest.

Where is she? WHERE IS SHE? the young man panicked. He scanned the frantic crowd while he was running, skillfully dodging the obstacles in his path. Then he found her—her singed, purple, wavy hair. He made his way almost haphazardly through the fleeing people and grabbed her hand.

Soon, they made it to the very inside of the edge of the forest land. They huddled close together, nobody paying mind to the lovers in the center of the circle.

One woman screamed and was looking upward in horror. The old, bewitched oracle was hovering above them.

With a demonic tint to her voice, the woman crowed: "bow before your new god! O Cursed One, display your power!" The people, though they tried to move, found that they could not. They started to cry.

The young man looked around him wildly, his unfocused gaze trying to comprehend something. Anything. Death surrounded him everywhere. It was all moving too fast.

Something seemed to rocket through him at that very moment. A curse. The curse of a god. The aura of death was overpowering him until it suddenly vanished. He looked around to see black circle orbiting him, flying faster and faster away until it dissipated. The line of black brought pure death before it; even the trees withered and grayed. The grass died and the leaves disintegrated. Then he looked around him.

Those people, the villagers… they were dead. Killed by him. He dropped to his knees and saw his lover. "Laura…" he whispered. He cradled her, her once vibrant, lavender hair now a dull, faded, deathly shade of the color it used to be. He held her close to his chest and wept.

"O Cursed One! The holy Zeref has been born!"

He could only comprehend one thought:

I want to die.