Link : https://m.fan fiction.net/s/13867395/1/Fairy-Tail-s-Night-Terror
WC : 54k+
Plot : Fairy Tail. A guild famous throughout Fiore for its powerful mages and notorious for creating damage. However, hidden in the shadows, is Fairy Tail's fear mage: the Night Terror. Recluse, secretive and the last of his kind, the Night Terror defends his guild from danger and scares off any who harm the innocent.
Chapter 1
Sgeulachd nan Còignear bhràithrean
or The Story of the Five Brothers
Long ago,
At the advent of magic and the dawn of power
Chaos reigned.
Magic was limitless and gave its uses abilities without consequence,
Without the fear of consequence, mages lost their ability to feel sympathy for others and soon their hubris overtook their soul and turned it dark,
Evil mages used their magic to pray on the weak, on the defenceless and the powerless,
Innocents suffered, lives were lost, evil reigned dominant.
Five Brothers, their names lost to history, witnessed the devastation,
They were horrified of what the evil mages were doing and sought a way to stop them,
For many years, they pleaded with the evil mages to stop the destruction, for not only were they killing innocents, but destroying themselves as well,
However, the mages, too enslaved by their own dark souls, sent the Five Brothers away and evil continued to reign.
Devastated by their failure, the Five Brothers retreated to devise another solution to stop the spread of evil,
They thought and they ponded, and they planned,
Until the eldest brother had discovered a solution to hold off the evil mages.
Disposing evil was impossible as in order to do that would mean using something even more powerful than evil,
It came to no doubt that by stopping evil would mean the Five Brothers would succumb to the corruption of their own power,
They needed to maintain balance, to remind evil uses of the consequences of their actions, to feel sympathetic to their victims and to remind them of their own mortality,
They needed a new type of magic.
The other brothers agreed with their eldest and so set off into the world to find a magic to restore balance,
They searched the vast plains,
Travelled over the treacherous mountains,
Fought of the heat of hostile deserts,
But it was not until the sailed over the deep seas that they found what they were looking for.
The island struck fear into the hearts of the brothers,
The sky above it was clouded and grey with no sign of any sunlight,
It was surrounded by jagged rocks pointing out of the sea like the sharp teeth of a monster's maw,
Its trees were black, twisted and bore no leaves,
Its ground was a hard, dark soil which showed no signs of fertile life,
Its animals were viscous and feral, and they stared into your soul with their red piercing eyes,
It was cloaked with darkness and no sound was heard, not even the wind dared to make a noise,
The island was the epitome of fear.
As the Five Brothers stood on the banks of the island, they knew that it held a powerful magic,
This fear magic can be used to strike terror into the soul of the evil mages and restore balance to the world,
They spent a year on the island, learning its power and uncovering the secrets of true fear,
The Five Brothers took a piece of the island and each became one of the five Great Fears.
The youngest brother took the bark of the Craobh Dorcha trees and used its wood to make a horrifying mask with a twisted grin and sharp eyes,
With his mask, he could leap into the dreams of evil doers, manipulate their dreams, create nightmares, and cause restlessness and insomnia,
He became the first Great Fear,
A fear of being watched, being controlled, of change and the uncanny.
He was known as the Trom-laighe or the Nightmare.
The next brother took the darkness and used it to make a robe as black as the night and wore a mask that bore a resemblance to a grinning skull,
From the shadows, he uses the darkness to attack evil doers, striking at them with dark tendrils and pulling them into the void,
He became the second Great Fear,
A fear of the unknown, being insignificant and isolation,
He was known as the Dorchadas or the Night Terror.
The next older brother took the hides and the feathers of the animals of the island and created a cloak while he covered his face with an animal's skull,
With his cloak, he could transform into any viscous animal, bird, or beast, and chased away the evil doers,
He became the third Great Fear,
A fear of the wild, violence, being hunted and being butchered,
He was known as the Beathach or the Beast.
The next brother took the mist and fog that covered the island and contained it within his beak-like mask and wore a suit of dark leather,
With his control over the mist, he could spew it out at the evil doers where they hallucinate of great horrors,
He became the fourth Great Fear,
A fear of insanity, being deceived, and corruption.
He was known as the Gealtachd or The Mania.
The eldest brother was the most horrifying of the Five Great Fears,
He took a part of the island that remains a secret to all but him and his predecessors,
He would not reveal to the others what he took, but they were wise enough to know that he had sacrificed a lot to control the power,
His hooded robe was blood red and swept on the floor,
His pale white mask covered his entire features making it seem that he had no face,
Everything he touched rotted and turned to ash, he sent disease and pollution upon the evil doers,
He became the fifth and last Great Fear,
A fear of decay, pestilence, destruction and above all death,
He became known as the Gun Aghaidh or the Faceless One.
The Great Fears fought against the evil mages, striking terror into their hearts whilst protecting the innocent,
The brothers succeed as the some mages began to use magic for good and for the benefit of others,
Peace was finally established, and evil has relented.
However, it had come at price for the Five Brothers,
Once they noticed that evil was almost gone, the people they were protecting looked at them in fear,
It confused the brothers, and they tried their best to reassure the people, but it only terrified them more,
The brothers realised that they did not just scare the evil mages, but everybody who had witnessed their fear magic,
They had become too powerful.
Ashamed, the brothers banished themselves back to Island of Fear, taking their families and the few people they had managed to convince,
The brothers never took off their masks, never wanting to show their faces to the world as a punishment,
Over time, the Five Brothers passed on their teachings to their children and them onto their children until a society was born on the Island of Fear,
They called themselves the Cinneadh Phobos or the Phobos Clan,
Even though, the brothers never ventured from the island again, the predecessors made sure to keep watch on the people of the world,
To make sure that peace remains,
and for evil to never rise again.
The people outside the Island of Fear lived on, built towns, formed guilds, created a society where magic was used for the benefit of others,
Most people began to forget about the Great Fears, except for a handful of scholars,
The Phobos Clan became a legend to the people of Earthland,
A lesson in hubris and to never cause evil ever again.
And thus concludes, the story of the Five Brothers,
And the origins of the Phobos Clan.
(An excerpt from the 'Leabhar a 'chinnidh phobos' or 'Tome of the Phobos Clan' written by the Five Brothers and their predecessors. Acquired and translated from Tomorin into common speak by Victor Soul.)
Fairy Tail's Night Terror
Chapter 1: The Lost Boy
The boy held his breath as he sank under the salty water again, making sure to keep the leather-bound tome above his head and out of the ocean.
He rose above the water again, gasping for precious air. The boy searched desperately around for something to keep a hold on to.
He eventually found a piece of driftwood big enough to keep his and the tome's weight afloat. He tried to catch his breath as he gripped firmly onto the driftwood, bobbing up and down on the waves.
He stared at his home in horror. He saw the sky, which should have been grey and uninviting, was glowing red. He saw the Craobh Dorcha trees lit up like candles. The screams of pain and lost filled his ears and echoed in his head. Even though he was miles from the shore, he could still smell and taste the clouds of smoke that rolled over the island like a blanket.
The boy shed tears as he witnessed the desolation of his home.
The Island of Fear, home of the Phobos Clan for millennia, was on fire.
Exhaustion and grief overtook the child of the Phobos and as he drifted further away from the devastation, he passed out upon that piece of driftwood.
The Bay of Fiore
Porlyusica was not a sociable person.
In fact, she hated humans, despite being one herself.
However, the elderly pink haired woman had made up her mind and chosen a life of solitude, living as a hermit in the forest outside Magnolia Town. Something she was more than content with.
So, you can only imagine how sour her mood gets when she runs out of the rare healing herb that could only be found on the bay between the sea town of Hargeon and the popular Akane Beach resort. She would have sent in a request for a mage to find the herb at Magnolia Town's guild Fairy Tail, one of the most prestige guilds in Fiore to which she used to be a member of, but that would of mean walking into town.
Where the humans are.
She much preferred to make the journey herself and risk potential human interaction, then making a request and definitely meeting humans.
'At least it's a nice day,' Porlyusica grumbled, noting the clear sky as she searched the ground of the forest.
To her right she could see the beach where the blue, crystal waters lapped on the sandy shore. She spotted the herb she was looking for and knelt with a pair of scissors, making sure her red cape was out of the way. She clipped the leaves and placed them in a pouch she had tied to her long purple skirt.
She mumbled something about needing to find more so she does not have to come back anytime soon and took a moment to admire the beach. She felt the sea breeze on her face and smelt the salty air. It was nice to come to the beach once in a while. Just not when humans were around.
Porlyusica was about to continue, but something caught her eye. She thought she was seeing things, but one more look told her otherwise.
On the beach was a body.
It laid on its front and faced away from the sea allowing the waves to sweep over it. Its left arm was sprawled on the sand while its right arm was held tightly to its body as if it were clutching something. Its clothes were soaked and tattered and it wore nothing on its feet.
Porlyusica snapped out of her shock and ran towards the body. As she got closer, she saw that it was a young boy about ten years old. She turned him over to his front and sighed in relief when she noticed he was still breathing. She could see soot and burns all over his arms and face and her concern grew again.
She may be unsociable, but she wasn't cruel.
She lifted him out of the water and carried him to dry land. As she picked him up, she noticed something heavy slip out of his grasp and onto the sand. She ignored it for now and got work healing the boy's burns. It wasn't as bad as she thought, just a couple marks on his face and arms. She had seen much worse. She also noticed the blue tattoo-like marking over his body. It was a beautiful design with lines forming elaborate patterns and symbols. Some of the lines turned into leaves or animals at the ends.
Once she was done and made sure he was warm, she turned her focus back onto what slipped out of his hand. It was still lying on the beach, just out of the way of the tide. As she approached, she saw it was a book, bound in a dark leather and was just slightly larger than a mass-produced hard-back book, but four times as thick as any standard book. What was strange was not the lack of a title, nor the fact that it had kept dry despite coming out of the sea. It was the fact that, the longer Porlyusica looked at the book the more afraid she came.
She felt a chill go down her spine, her heart was beating faster, a bead of sweat roll down from her forehead. It was then she noticed sand beneath the book seemed to quiver and move away from it. The tide was avoiding it as well as it made a perfect semi-circle around the book. It was almost as if it was afraid of touching it.
It soon got worse as she tried to reach for it. Her senses screamed at her to run away as fast as she can, her breathing grew erratic, her heart felt it was going to explode within her chest. Her face filled with terror and her dark red eyes widen in shock. And yet she continued to reach. Her mind filled with possibilities of what would happen if she touched the book.
Would it curse her?
Would it cause pain?
Would it kill her?
She was so distracted that she didn't notice the rapid footsteps on the sand rushing towards her.
"STAD!" a voice shouted at her, causing her to jump back in surprise.
The boy had awoken and was looking at her in a panicked expression. Seeing that she hasn't touched the book, the young boy sighed in relief. He walked towards the book and bent down to pick up.
Porlyusica was about to shout at him to not touch it. She didn't want him to face what she was feeling, but the words were caught in her throat. The book still had a tight grip on her.
However, the boy picked up the book, unaffected by the fear it was emitting. He placed a hand on the book face and closed his eyes.
"Leig às an gheasaibh dìon," he chanted and suddenly Porlyusica was no longer afraid.
She released a breath she didn't she was holding and stared at the boy and his book in curiosity.
The boy shakily turned to her, still haven't fully recovered.
"Tha mi duilich, daonna," the boy said with a small smile, "Cha do chuir mi an gheasaibh air adhart gus a dhìon bho mhilleadh sam bith. B'e rud math a bh' ann nach do bhean thu ris, air neo bhiodh ionnsaigh cridhe agad."
The boy spoke in a language she did not understand. It was ancient and sounded nothing like any language she's heard of.
The boy looked around, "Càit a bheil mi?" he asked her.
"I'm sorry, I don't understand you," she said with a small frown. It's going to be difficult to communicate with the young boy.
However, the boy seemed to recognise what she said. He frowned in concentration, clutching the book in his arms.
"Where…is…this?" he stuttered out, pointing to the beach to emphasise his question.
"You are in Fiore," Porlyusica answered slowly making sure he understood her.
The boy nodded his head. It would seem he has heard of the kingdom they were in.
"Where are your parents?" Porlyusica asked slowly. Maybe he and his parents were travelling by ship and he fell off in the middle of a storm.
The boy grew deathly silent as he stared at the ground. At first Porlyusica thought he didn't understand her, but she soon came to realise that he just didn't want to answer her. She tried a different question.
"What is your name?" she asked, but he shook his head again.
The boy pointed to himself, "Me…not…can…can not…tell," he replied in pieces.
Porlyusica frowned in slight irritation and was about to ask another question when he interrupted her.
"Me…Phobos."
She stopped in shock. It all made sense now.
The fear emitting from the book.
How he wasn't affected by the book.
The tattoos.
The ancient language he spoke.
He belonged to the Phobos Clan.
She must contact Makarov immediately.
Porlyusica Tree House
"A Phobos, you say," Makarov Dreyer, guild master of Fairy Tail, said in a surprised tone.
Makarov was a short, elderly man with white balding hair and moustache. He wore an orange jacket over a white shirt with the symbol of Fairy Tale imprinted on it. On his head was an orange and blue stripped jester hat. Despite, his unthreatening stature and friendly tone, Makarov was a powerful mage and one of Ten Wizard Saints.
His old friend, Porlyusica, had contacted him that she had found somebody of utmost importance when she was looking for herbs. Makarov didn't know what to expect when she explained what happened, but he definitely wasn't expecting this.
"Indeed," Porlyusica confirmed, "my knowledge of the Clan is limited. So, I decided to contact you."
Makarov hummed, "I have met a handful of Phobos in my life. They patrol the land making sure everything is peaceful and scaring off evil. They are friendly and will help if you ask, but they are very secretive and recluse. They are not allowed to get too involved in other people's matters and try to avoid populated areas, which explains their…less than pleasant reputation among the public. Many people still believe they don't actually exist."
"So, they mean no harm to us," Porlyusica clarified.
"No," Makarov said nodding his head, "their fear magic is mysterious, but powerful so they don't want to get too close to innocent civilians. Hurting or killing any innocent people is just as forbidden to them as it is to us. They are peaceful and caring for the well being of others is part of their moral code. They just have a unique way of showing it," Makarov explained.
The old guild master rubbed his chin in thought, "Still, it is strange for them to leave one of their own. Especially, since it's so close to their summer solstice. We should find a way to contact them. Just so we can reassure them that he's fine."
Porlyusica nodded her head, "Yes. The poor boy must be feeling homesick. He looked so pale when-"
"WHAT!" Makarov shouted in shock, interrupting Porlyusica, "are you saying that you've actually seen his face!? He wasn't wearing a mask!?" he asked desperately.
Porlyusica was taken back by this, "Yes. Why is that a problem?"
Makarov looked shaken by the information. His frowned deepened in concern.
"One of the most important rules for Phobos is to never reveal what they look like to anyone outside the Clan. On no accounts can they take off their masks when they are not on their island," Makarov explained.
Porlyusica gave a confused look, "Why is that?"
Makarov scratched his bald head, "I don't know the details. I remember one Phobos- a Mania I believe -explained it to me, but my mind is not what it used to be. Something about seeing their true selves would reduce the effectiveness of their fear magic. In any case, if this young Phobos is without its mask, then there must be a good reason. May I see him?" the old master asked his friend.
Porlyusia nodded, "Yes. He is in the other room resting. He doesn't speak our language very well, but he can definitely understand us."
Makarov smiled and nodded in thanks.
Porlyusica led him to the room the boy was staying in. He was sitting on a lying on the bed when they walked in. The book he had with him laid on the bedside table, completely harmless. The boy sat and grew a worried look at the stranger who walked in. Makarov gave him a wide smile and a friendly wave which calmed the boy down a bit.
Makarov approached the boy while Porlyusia stood at the door frame.
"Let's see. What was it again? Oh Yes!" the elderly man cleared his throat.
"Halò. Is e m 'aois Makarov. Ciamar- what is it again -a tha na cearcan- no that doesn't sound right -agad a 'cluich ionnstramaidean- that doesn't sound right either -fiodha an-diugh?" Makarov asked in broken Timorin.
The boy looked at him in confusion and wondered why he was asking him about chickens playing wooden fruit. However, he did pick up the name Makarov and assumed that was his name.
"Hello…Makarov," the boy replied with a bow of his head.
Makarov decided to not speak in Timorin or they'll be here all day, "How can we contact your Clan? So, we can tell them you're here," he asked slowly, making sure to enunciate every word.
The boy shook his head sadly, "Clan…has…marbh…gone," the boy whimpered.
"Gone?" Makarov repeated in confusion, "Where have they gone? Why did they leave you?" he inquired further. The Phobos Clan have been on the Island of Fear for millennia. They can't just up and leave. Let alone leave one of their own behind.
The boy shook his head again, "No…gone."
He looked around the room, trying to find a way to communicate non-verbally. The boy spotted a desk on the far side of the room where paper was piled neatly in a pile. He jumped off the bed and rushed over to it. He picked up a piece of paper and a quill from the desk's inkwell.
"Hey!" Porlyusia shouted, not liking another person using her stuff without permission. Before she could do anything, Makarov held up a hand to stop her. She grumbled in irritation and reluctantly backed off.
The boy finished his drawing and presented it to the two elders. They were taken aback by what he drew. It showed an island engulfed in flames with a large smoke cloud drifting up to the sky.
"Gone…gone," the boy said pointing at the drawing as tears welled up in his eyes.
Makarov realised what he meant.
"You don't mean…" his sentence trailing off in his shock.
The boy nodded.
"Marbh…dead. The…Clan…dead."