Chapter Text
I wasn't born a hero.
I didn't live as a hero.
But I died as one.
Great, right?
Wrong!
Because if I didn't die, then I wouldn't have been reborn in this wonderful yet shitty universe.
I was just a normal college man, getting his second degree in computer science who was an anime enthusiast (otaku is a strong word for me. Maybe a weeb would be accurate) and living a pretty normal life. I have friends, family, enemies, acquaintances, and a pet tarantula (getting my friends to meet Lancelot is always hilarious).
My last day of life started with my group of friends going to a movie shoot just a block away from campus. They were going to shoot a car chasing scene, and the road was blocked for the occasion. We were pretty excited about watching a scene of a soon-sequel of our favorite movie. You could probably guess by now, but a kid had to be stupid enough to run in the middle of the road just as the car was closing in.
My morale was also stupid enough to run in and push the kid away then BAM! My life ended just like that.
What a cliche way to go.
Things would have been easy if my life ended just like that and was judged to go either up heaven or down hell, then spend the rest of eternity in bliss or suffering.
However, I started to remember everything about my past life.
It happened around when I was two and a half years old. My brain must have developed enough to ever so slowly access memories of another lifetime. I'm glad I didn't need to be traumatized by the memory of coming out of a mother's womb and having a baby experience since I certainly do not want to remember what sucking a nipple feels like. It is for that reason I wasn't so shocked by living a second life since I had two years to sink into my surroundings and the people I deemed as family.
It started out as deja vus and dreams of fantastic yet nostalgic urban sceneries, knowing words and subjects I never heard of then I began to remember experiences one by one like my birthday, playing at the amusement park, my first kiss, and my sister's marriage. It was a lot to take in knowing I was reincarnated but seeing as I am an anime lover, I decided to enjoy this strange phenomenon.
When my two-a-half-year-old and past self slowly but gradually merged into a completely new self, I noticed these few facts about my current living style.
First of all, my family is hella rich.
I barely have memories of leaving my room but one look at the blinding crystal chandelier hanging on the ceiling, fancy vases and statues with high art value that has no place near a toddler, the different maids and butlers tending me every day, as well as the large oil painting of my family decorating the wall over my king-size bed.
Yes, you read that right. King size. For a two-year-old.
The second and saddest thing about my life then was the hole in my family. My mother seemed to have died when I was born, so the only time I got to meet her face was through the painting I mentioned. Short brunette hair, fair white skin, an angular face, and a hawk nose. I have my mother's green eyes, and I could already tell I'm going to have my father's curly blond hair. I just hope there won't be a time I need to straighten it. It'll be a bitch to handle, otherwise.
It was hard to feel sad not to have her in my new life, but I have the memory of comfort and love from my last mother. It made me lonely for a different reason, but I lived life believing it was better to lose loved ones than to never love at all. Besides, I have my father, and if I have to describe him it would be that he spoiled me rotten enough that it was revolting.
Don't get me wrong. I love the guy. But my father isn't the most handsome... okay let's just say he's an obese ugly man. I'm not trying to ride. Honest. It was uncomfortable being near a man who keeps sweating and likes to hug me (the smell I tell you...oh the smell) for every occasion such as my first word, first step, or even my first clap he would gather his associate, and they would leave mountains of presents for every party my father made.
Oh, and did I mention I have a brother? It's creepy that he not only looks but acts really similar to dad, which means I have two family members smothering me most of the time.
So those two are idiots, but they're my lovable idiots.
Okay, enough about my family. Time for the second turning point in my life.
I was a little four-year-old and absolutely loved it being a child. A stressful adult's dream come true I tell you. Like getting a long vacation. So at this point in time, I've long had my existential crisis and was just living my life the way I want to at that point: being a spoiled rich kid.
I was already planning to live an easy-going life for the first 8 years AT LEAST before deciding what I want to do for my future. I listened to my tutors but I let my childish mood dictate whether to listen to studies like arithmetic or English I've hammered in my last life. They accurately assessed me as having potential if I apply myself more to my father, and I was satisfied with that. The only studies I had to put my mind to use were folktales and this weird-looking old language called runes.
Which is a weird thing to teach a toddler, but they weren't exactly old Norse runes like in the movies. No, it was both that combine with the unreadable Russian writings. The only saving grace was my old self had known the basics of writing and reading Russian, which was the only reason why those lessons did not become torture. And the folktale I learned were really hardcore; talking about dragons that razed civilization to be obliterated by the Dragon God as retribution, of a country's creation from the sacrifice of a priestess in order to tame a phoenix from razing the ground, an old pacifist clan that hid in the forest in order to create a nirvana-like city.
Then I started wondering where I'm from. I thought it wouldn't be weird if I ask where I was because never leaving the mansion's grounds doesn't help where I am. Although I suspect from their attire, maybe I'm somewhere in Europe.
"Where is Margarett Town?" I asked in my childish tone.
The tutor, Mrs. Fresbie, chuckled at my curiosity and smiled warmly, she took out one of the books from the bookshelves and lay it open for me to see.
There she showed me a map of Ishgar as she explained while pointing out where we are. "Here young master is the Kingdom of Fiore and around the south of the continent is where Margarett Town lies."
The first thing that came to my mind was to laugh. Because it occurred to me then that I wasn't learning folktales, I was being taught the kiddy-version of this world history. The next was the reluctant acceptance that I could have been reincarnated in a FREAKING FICTIONAL STORY!
My silence might have meant I was processing his explanation, but far from it, I was thinking of how to explain this coincidence and not confirm my worst conclusion.
"Mrs. Fresbie, what year are we in?"
"It's the year X769 Young Master Roy, is there a reason for your question?"
Not 2016 or even remotely close, but X769... there's an X attached and the year barely reached a thousand.
Now that I think about it, isn't the name Jurnelle familiar? Though I still don't remember where I heard it.
Putting that aside though, there's almost no doubt. I've been reborn into the Fairy Tail universe. So according to canon, there'll be war with the most powerful Dark Mage and Dragon about 20 years later. Why can't the show just stay happy and go lucky for me to enjoy? You just have to make war, don't you Mashima?