Souls Betwixt (Dark Souls / Fairy Tail) (Complete)

[Orchamus]

That was a very poignant chapter, emotional as all hell and explained...quite a bit.

 

[SpadeofPain]

HO LEE The FUCK. that would have explained so much in the actual canon if the author could stand to not soapbox his sports anime guts rhetoric with an entire cast of idiot heroes.

 

[Vajra]

Ah, so Zeref impregnated a loli. Truly his evil knows no bounds.

 

[Naron]

Ah, so Zeref impregnated a loli. Truly his evil knows no bounds.

Click to shrink...

There is such a thing as short women. Mavis was way past her majority at that point, so her body type really does not matter.

 

[Naphtali]

There is such a thing as short women. Mavis was way past her majority at that point, so her body type really does not matter.

Click to shrink...

I'm pretty sure he was snarking bro.

I'm guessing Zaref never knew that he was going to be a dad.

 

[NightmareWarden]

So this should mean that Mavis is immortal and free of the curse. Ankhserram's curse followed the immorality effect, it was not an ingredient in it. Though I completely understand if all of the magic at play here caused her immortality spell to collapse, meaning it would need to be reapplied.

Honestly, a success here is the greatest thing Priscilla could ask for. A way to make her new family, the Guild, enjoy the coming eons with her. With... exception to the possibility of another low-Etherano era like Natsu, Wendy and Gajeel came from.

 

[Naron]

I'm pretty sure he was snarking bro.

Click to shrink...

Maybe? I was tired when looking at responses, so that may have slipped by me.

 

[Heaven Canceler]

Maybe? I was tired when looking at responses, so that may have slipped by me.

Click to shrink...

It was probably a joke about how people treat lewding the loli as the worst thing anyone could ever do,w orse than genocide and eating babies. Even if it is a legal loli (or lolibaba MILF by canon I guess.)

Kinda like back when the chapter with Larcade using his pleasure magic on the cast got released and it worked on Mavis. People tried to argue so hard that Mavis hadn't fucked Zeref and that the condition had to be something else than having had sex. That the whole thing had to be a misstranslation or something etc.... whole thing was hilarious to watch.

 

[Naron]

"Fearing death is natural to all life. It defines our evolution, from tiny mice to mighty dragons and beyond. Some turn to magic and seek immortality, which is something it can not give. In fact, it will not give immortality, for magic is alive and knows better than any human. No one wants to live forever. As one who is immortal, I would know. I fear death no longer, but rather that I will never die."

-excerpt from "The Heart of Magic"

---

Heavy silence hung above the taproom. The gates were closed and Fairy Tail sat quietly in contemplation, excepting Priscilla. The master seethed in her favourite corner, having learned of Acnologia's appearance on Tenrou Island. Someone else went to contact Mystogan, the only S-ranking Fairy Tail wizard not assisting in the trials.

Mavis was nestled against Precht, who felt a mite uncomfortable offering comfort. Yuri and later Warrod were her preferred teddy bears. But neither of them was here now, so he crushed the feeling. Then there were the worried gazes Mavis drew from around the room. Curiousity was mixed in as well.

After some time, he gently nudged her. "How far along are you?"

The response took a while. Mavis' eyes quivered but did not leak any more; she frowned, then sighed and rubbed her stomach. "That crystal kept my body in perfect stasis. Him, too. I can't say how long exactly, but I should be showing soon."

He nodded along, once again wondering how he could have missed this for fourty years. A soft whisper followed, barely reaching his ears: "It shouldn't be like this."

Precht squeezed his old friend in silent agreement. Then he paused when an audible growl broke the silence; Mavis averted her gaze, ears turning red. Precht could not help but chuckle.

"How about a meal for your founder?" he called with a raised voice.

Alicia stared at him in incomprehension for a moment, clearly deep in thought. Then she blinked, put on a smile, and dashed away. "Right on!"

The response drew a faint smile out of Mavis. She soon began to drool when a feast fit for a queen was spread before her. She immediately made to dig into the pudding, only to stop herself. With a glance downward and an even more desperate sigh, Mavis floated a bowl of salad into her hands. Her demeanor changed with the first bite, though; she began to inhale the food with such joy that even Ultear sported an indulgent smile. It was such a simple thing, yet Precht could feel the guild's collective spirit lift.

Meredy eyed the enticing food for a while, especially that chocolate pudding Mavis put aside earlier. Precht still wondered if he should order some or let the girl speak up herself when an empty bowl floated over and magically scooped up half the pudding. Mavis let it dance in front of the flummoxed pinkette. Her aloof demeanor melted under the blonde's smile. When a spoon followed the bowl, Meredy mumbled thanks and began to help herself.

"How old are you exactly?" Ultear inquired once Mavis finished off the salad.

The older woman tapped her fork against her lips. "Oh, I was cursed at thirteen, but I'm not sure if my growth stopped or I was just done growing already. Maybe I grew a bit since then?" She mulled it over for a moment, leaving the question unanswered. Precht nudged her. "Ah, sorry. I became comatose around twenty-five. Right now, let's see; it is still 785, yes?" Ultear nodded. "Good. And November just started, so I should be 112. Amazing how spry this grandma is, isn't it?"

Mavis giggled and began to devour a well-cooked steak. Precht huffed weakly, well aware of Ultear's renewed smile. "I see you understand what drew us to her a century ago," he teased. The smile vanished, but she knew he knew regardless.

When Mavis began to chatter at Meredy, he decided to leave the women to it. Instead his attention and since stalled curiousity returned to Priscilla; while everyone else slowly processed, the giantess had not moved at all. She simply kept staring at the wall.

Leaving his friend be for now, Precht strode over to the larger woman's side.

"Is your temper that great?" he inquired with honest curiousity. The look thrown his way made him feel smaller than he ever had. A shadow of death hung in those humongous eyes, tension running through her entire body. Precht could force himself to be calm, but his heart skipped a beat regardless; instinct told him there sat a being that made sport of hunting apex predators.

It was a familiar feeling. Only a single being, one person, elicited its like over Precht's long life. That settled it.

"...are you Everlasting?"

Now this distracted her. Anger waned in favour of surprise and curiousity. Priscilla studied Precht like a great feline studied prey, but he did not let that deter him. Rather, he elaborated on his conclusions: "On my journey through Lordran, I met Duke Seath in my pursuit of knowledge. He was the only other person to hold that look to themselves." Total superiority, he did not say. The only reason he did not take offense was that he knew with certainty the sentiment was true. Every instinct in his body screamed to tread carefully, even when no immediate danger presented itself. "I learned a great many things from him."

"How peculiar."

The subtle pressure vanished with those two words. Precht could breathe more freely, even though Priscilla now faced him fully. "Would you care to tell the whole story? Without ever mentioning the kinslayer's name again?"

"If I may hear your own in turn? I never thought to meet another Everlasting dragon, especially not, well, like this." He vaguely motioned for her very human body. Priscilla nodded without hesitation, sealing their deal.

"How to start," Precht continued idly, thinking back. "It has been so long. About a year after leaving the guild to Makarov, I came upon a realisation. It allowed me to traverse dimensions, so I left Earthland behind for a time. I wanted to find greater knowledge of magic, but what I found was... different." He hesitated there, throwing a glance to the rest of Fairy Tail. They were listening in alright. But at this point, all he could do was accept his greatest secrets being revealed to the guild. They knew part of it already, anyway. "The nameless realm where Lordran lies is the root world. Unformed and in flux, but an eternal foundation to many others, including Earthland. Its various aspects cast their shadow into the multiverse."

He had the room's undivided attention at this point. Precht huffed. "But I get ahead of myself. It took a long time until I understood that. At first I arrived in the kingdom of New Londo, where I spent a year learning from the local scholars. They taught me the soul arts, or sorcery if you want. I taught them principles of our own magic, but with so little Ethernano in the air, casting anything at all was a serious problem.

"What few demonstrations I could give intrigued the four kings, though. I stepped before them several times, they were great men." He had to pause there, having reminded himself of his sins. "But as there was little left to learn after a year, I continued my travels. Izalith was my next destination. Quelana, daughter of the witch, accepted me as her student. I spent another two years learning to harness my soul's light in a much different manner, through dance." Priscilla nodded courtly, obviously familiar with the witches. Precht could not help but sigh. "But I did not find what I came to seek in the swamps and sprawling cities, either. I set out for a cure to Mavis' condition and so I eventually moved on.

"Quelana was so kind to escort me to Anor Londo. With her and the four kings' endorsements, I was granted entry. I was even granted audience with the royal family." Just a single time he stood before them, yet the memory still shone brightly. Precht shook it off. "My outlandish techniques drew their interest and I found myself outmatched for the first time. Everything I had to teach, they soaked up like a sponge. Princess Gwynevere granted access to the royal archives in exchange, and I continued my studies with the brightest scholars of the realm." Again, without success.

"What of Lord Gwyn?"

"Ah, yes." Precht could not tell if she was curious or angry, but at this point he trusted in her self-discipline. "He received me, but deemed my tale of another world irrelevant to his own interests. Not to mention I could not prove much with the lack of Ethernano. What he did give me, once I exhausted the means of his own, was access to the Duke's archives."

Priscilla clearly recognised the place from just this much. Precht shuddered, retelling this part: "I did not make the connection before, but you have the same countenance; eternity carved into flesh. And as before, my bringing curious knowledge and foreign tales opened many doors. Duke Se-, he allowed me to stay in exchange for my knowledge. His channelers categorised all of it, stored away somewhere in that vast library." His brows creased as he recalled what else he heard. "Speaking of, I know they gathered knowledge from across the known world for some sort of project. He once told me he sought dragon corpses throughout the lands. They brought back their scales in neat and tagged packages. I heard whispers that Se-, er, he sought scales of his own."

Before he could even ask if there was anything to that rumour, Priscilla let out a derisive snort. "Only lesser beings would even imagine such nonsense," she ruled immediately. Precht inclined his head.

"I will take your word for it. Do you happen to know what it was he did with those scales?"

"I never saw anything relating to such a project. Whatever it was, he must have sequestered it away or concluded it before my birth." Her thoughtful expression told Precht she was still musing on the possible undertakings. Soon enough, she shrugged it off and motioned for him to continue.

"I spent another six months or so in the archives. The duke received me every other week to discuss the limits of existence. We even developed the practice of soul manipulation together. From him I learned some truly ethereal techniques."

"Such as?"

Precht took a deep breath and focussed. The Ethernano in his body fluttered, interlinking with the fabric of reality itself. Then he put his will into it, straining his entire being. And the air around the room grew warmer, warmer, without any Ethernano stimulating it directly. The roaring fires were overtaken. By the time Precht faltered, wheezing, he heated the room further than the warmest Summer day. The entire guild stood befuddled, excepting Priscilla. The dragon stared at him in awe.

He took a few deep breaths to soothe his thundering heart. His old limbs were shaking from the exertion and his entire body ached. Once Precht caught his breath, he explained: "Through the combination of all the knowledge I obtained, I managed to bend reality itself to my will. It is not a useful technique for me, far too draining, but it works well for intimidation and other covert tricks. The duke was just as impressed."

He could not help but feel a little smug. Even just a moment of reaching the might of Everlasting dragons was a greater success than any other. Priscilla seemed to agree. She momentarily studied the sweating wizards around them and had the air cool down again. It followed her demand like an obedient pet, without any sign of difficulty. "But alas," he sighed, "it does not compare to the real deal."

"It is impressive nonetheless," she disagreed. "I did not even believe it possible. Now, your tale?"

Precht inclined his head, tired after his little display. "After I built a rapport with the duke, I told him of Mavis and Ankhseram's curse. He became intrigued and thoughtful, but then he laughed and told me there is no cure to the wrath of a greater being." He grimaced. "I may have taken that a bit more personally than intended and left the following week. My final stop in the root world was Oolacile, a human realm. I received an audience with Princess Dusk easily enough and settled to study for another two years.

"Unfortunately, this is another sin I have to confess. A great serpent came to Oolacile during my stay. He spoke of secrets to greater power and ability, if only we dug up a certain grave. I advocated in favour of doing so and was the first to put the shovel to work." He did not care much for the distaste on display around him. Priscilla listened without any judgement. "And there I found it. In the grave of Primeval Man, a darkness clung to his body. The moment we unearthed him, we were drenched in Ethernano. More of it than I ever felt in one place before."

He left a meaningful pause for everyone to process the implications. Precht nearly went insane from the realisation that day, but just speaking of it would be easier on them. "I found the origin of Ethernano, our magic, and this very world. It rests in the ever-dead corpse of the first human."

He heaved a weak sigh. "And this is where my story ends. I strained myself beyond my limits, picked the brains of Lordran's best and brightest. After finding the truth, I realised there was little left there. With enough Ethernano to use my full abilities, I left for Earthland. Nearly five years spent in that place, yet no closer to a solution I don't think I even wanted anymore."

When it became clear he was finished, Priscilla inclined her head. "I see," she mumbled, ignoring the whispered conversations breaking out all around them. "The kinslayer was right. You never had a chance to cleanse Mavis."

He began to scowl, but the anger faded as she elaborated: "Even now the Everlasting dragons scream their fury and curse those who once cast them down. I am kin and so Everlasting Ankhseram listened when I spoke."

"I see," he echoed her earlier response, slumping forward. "I am just glad that it is done. Now, what of your own story?"

"I am afraid there is little to tell," Priscilla prefaced with a faint shrug. "I was born under the kinslayer's watch. How he created me, I can not quite tell. His memories elude me still, as if he does not want me to know... yet? But my conceited self did not even consider to ask, or to attempt coexistence with the gods. For my hubris, they seized me within weeks and imprisoned me within a painting."

He had not heard of such a painting before. Precht's brow rose on its own. "Did you try to escape?"

"Hah. No. At first I raged, of course, but by then I was already inside. So I studied the painting's makeup, learned how to tear it apart at the seams. It took a long time." Priscilla frowned. "And once I finally understood, I had lived long enough to realise my folly. Seeking battle with the gods meant to die. And that, I did not want. So I remained, tending to those exiled with me. Over time I learned to rein in my temper. Until one day I was swallowed by a hole in the sky and landed in the woods near Magnolia."

"You are certainly not like your creator," Precht mused. "Before that display earlier, it never occurred to me you could be Everlasting. We are but ants to them and they care about as much when interacting with us."

"And that," Priscilla ended softly, "was our collective failing. We did not offer lesser races the respect they deserved, then were caught unaware when they called us to battle."

He nodded along. Most of the crowd had broken into individual conversations by now, discussing what they learned. Despite the heavy and plain unbelievable truths however, it seemed no one even considered to be lied to. The guild as a whole reminded him of Yuri in that regard; he definitely underestimated what Makarov made of it.

"I-"

He was cut off when the gate flew open. A detachment of Rune Knights dashed inside, led by a female captain. Dozens of spell circles flared up in neat formation, matched immediately by the wizards present.

"Ultear Malkovich," the woman in charge shouted, "you are under arrest! Surrender yourself peacefully and be judged for your crimes by the Magic Council!"

Fairy Tail hesitated, confused. Precht ran a hand down his face as he realised what must have happened; someone recognised Ultear on their way through town. The woman herself stared owlishly at the weapons levelled at her; Meredy bristled nearby.

Before things could escalate, Priscilla rose to her impressive height. Her voice was even, filling the entire room: "I believe you are overstepping your bounds, Captain. Any legally recognised wizard guild may enforce the law in their own properties; unless you bring proof that my guild is unable to subdue her ourselves, you may not apprehend her."

Precht could not help but stare. So did Ultear and Meredy, as well as the Rune Knights.

"You shield a known criminal?" the captain demanded with calm that belied her anger. When Priscilla did not relent, the men and women under her command slowly began to drop the spells. Weapons were lowered, but the tension grew.

Precht had precious seconds to consider his options: he could leave now, throw Ultear to the wolves and carry on. He could stay and fight, take her and Meredy to run away. Build something new with them, if they wished for it. But in the end, Precht disregarded both of these options. He ran away for fourty years, it was time to face the music.

His steps echoed loudly in the tense silence. Eyes flickered to him, but kept returning to Ultear. Only Mavis held his gaze as he approached. Chances were she guessed his decision. Once he stood in front of her, he held out his hands. "I am Precht Gaebolg, founder and master of Grimoire Heart." Every single Rune Knight snapped his way, raising their enchanted weapons again. He huffed. "And I surrender. Mavis, if you would?"

"Of course. Uh, one moment."

The pitter-patter of bare feet on wood sounded as she darted away. Then followed rapid rummaging behind the bar, cut off by a cheer. Mavis reemerged a moment later, sporting a crimson guild mark on her right foot. It looked like a tiny mirror version of the current master's, amusingly enough.

She returned to him with three pairs of magic-restraining handcuffs. He obediently let her put them on. When their eyes went to Ultear, she shied away. Precht offered her a smile. "Come along now. It is time we be judged as is proper. I will see what I can do to keep the worst from you two."

No one spoke as the time wizard slowly extended her hands. Mavis cuffed her, then Meredy. She then snapped her fingers. "Elfman, Macao, Wakaba, Nab, Max, with me. We will escort those three to Era. Pris, I will meet you there?"

"Of course."

Be it the diminutive blonde's commanding tone or the fact Priscilla went along with her, everyone followed her order without question. The Rune Knights stood rigidly but clearly in wonder, at least until their captain sighed. She muttered something unintelligible about Fairy Tail before making a dismissive motion. "Very well, then we shall escort your escort. Lead on."

It followed a journey per train to castle Era, rebuilt greater than it stood when Ultear tore it down.

Then came an entire month of hearings before the Magic Council itself. Precht freely admitted to having groomed both Ultear and Meredy into following his own designs since they were children. In Meredy's case, she still was a minor before the law. He knew full well that most of the blame would now lie on him, but it was the least bit of recompense he could offer. Not to mention that Precht could still bargain. He did study the case of Oracion Seis after all.

So he bartered his most prized possession: knowledge. Notable members and hideouts of various dark guilds, magical tomes he sequestered away in safehouses, advancements made in the field of magic. The sheer breadth of information he offered freely left the Council stumped.

On top of it, Fairy Tail's Priscilla spoke fervently in his defense. None of the councillors understood at first, but over time it became more clear; Precht Gaebolg was the second master of Fairy Tail after all. Seeing his pristine record and that it lasted until the day he left his duty with Makarov Dreyar, some were slowly convinced to grant leniency. Their discussion lasted long regardless, seeing how deep his crimes ran.

"Are you still not certain?" an old voice interrupted them one evening. Heads turned to greet Warrod Sequen with a nod. The ancient man chuckled, striding into the Council's private chamber without a care in the world. He was a frequent guest, bringing refreshments and levity many of them dearly needed.

"This matter requires careful consideration," Org responded gruffly. "You used to be in the same guild, are you here to pull some strings for him?"

"Oh, absolutely." Despite the affirmation, every single councillor accepted a single cup of wine. Made from the exact same berries that brought Precht himself to tears a month ago. Warrod chuckled merrily and grew a chair of vines to rest on. "Fairy Tail keeps together. Precht turned himself in when he had no need to. He truly regrets losing his way and so we forgave him. But you are not impressed by heartful rhetoric, young man."

Org, already a grandfather himself, grunted noncommittally. "Then you have another argument for us?"

The entire table waited, curious what wisdom the oldest Wizard Saint would have for them. He grinned in response, displaying full teeth despite his age.

"Precht is the most gifted wizard since Zeref himself. He decisively proved that to you these last few weeks. He forgot more about magic than most learn in their lifetime. And he is willing to make amends. I say let him." Everyone hung on his gnarly lips by now. "Let him lend his expertise to improve magical development by decades. We already saw good success with the remnants of Oracion Seis and others, too. The system works."

Some others nodded along, pleased that the idea they spearheaded was acknowledged. Chairman Org ran a hand down his neatly combed beard in thought.

"With Acnologia's emergence, we will certainly need every capable mind to devise countermeasures," he mused. Master Priscilla approached the Council just a week prior, bringing news of the last dragon's weakness. Warrod's pleased smile remained throughout his quiet pondering.

The mix of factors did the trick; bright and early the next morning, the Council declared its verdict. Ultear and Meredy were both found innocent. Due to her particular actions however, Ultear would not be reinstated as councillor and remained barred from any form of political office for the next decade. She did not care in the slightest, exuberantly embracing Meredy the moment their cuffs were off.

Meanwhile, Precht was found guilty of all charges. Due to his cooperation and free offering of resources, a lesser sentence was imposed: he would dedicate the rest of his life to the advance of magical development, permanently attached to the Bureau of Magic Development. It was about as good as he could expect.

While their former boss went through the details of his sentence, Ultear had to turn down Priscilla. "I am grateful for your offer, but no. I want to be my own woman for a bit before I think about guilds. What about you?"

Meredy shook her head in response, which elicited a faint smile.

Priscilla took their refusal in stride. "Very well. In truth I did not expect you to agree, but wanted to make the offer regardless. If you ever need aid or a place to stay, do not hesitate to visit." Both smiled, though their expressions grew more strained when the dragon began to pet their heads. "I hope you will be alright?"

"We will," Ultear muttered, stepping away from the affectionate giantess. "My Arc of Time is useful enough to get by."

"Pardon, but I am not familiar with this discipline. Could you elaborate?"

"I can manipulate the personal timeline of objects. It does not work on people or animals, but anything else I can fast forward until it turns to dust, or rewind to restore it." She thought back to the many things she broke and restored over the years before shrugging it off. "I combine it with levitation to fight."

Whether the final part registered, she did not know. Priscilla's eyes were gleaming at her like a ravenous wolf stared at a fat cow.

"Um."

"To paraphrase," the larger woman began slowly, giddily, "you can restore anything as long as it is not a person or animal?"

"...yes?"

Within hours, she and Meredy were registered as a freelance wizard team. They were also subcontracted to Fairy Tail. Once Ultear realised what actually happened, she descended into maddened giggles.

"We're their cleanup crew," she crowed, almost hysterical. "Those bastards pay us to let them skip out on Council fines for all the collateral damage!"

She was not even mad; the idea was amazing, not to mention it gave Ultear a steady source of income. She was still laughing by the time they arrived in Magnolia for the party; Mavis insisted. It was barely even awkward, what with Ultear's good mood. Meredy needed some coaxing, but Mavis simply battered through her reserved demeanor.

By the time she pushed the pinkette at Priscilla to talk about learning teleportation magic, which the fourth master was currently studying, Mavis herself found Warrod among the crowd's edge. She beamed up at him and received a gentle pat on the head.

"I'm just glad he will be alright."

"Precht will never not be," Warrod countered cheerfully. "He was always like that. Good thing the Council saw reason, he wouldn't have taken prison time."

"Too proud, I know. How many elite wizards were on guard duty?"

"Heh. It would be faster to name those who weren't. They called together all four of us 'kings', even Godserena was hiding in the backrooms. I'd give old Precht even odds to win anyway."

They shared a laugh over the assessment, but then Mavis winked at her old friend. "More like sixty-five percent, give or take two."

She left behind a chuckling broccoli-man, only to be accosted by Priscilla herself. Mavis' good mood evaporated as it always did when they met. She was grateful about the work put into protecting her friend, but could not forget what Priscilla did. Her heart clenched at the reminder. "A moment, please," the dragon requested, then led the way into the library. "I will not keep you for long, but... well."

A series of three tomes were presented to Mavis without fanfare. She accepted them somewhat curiously, then she saw title and author on the first one. Her eyes grew wide.

Priscilla sighed faintly. "I made copies of each one, but the originals ought to be yours. I read them often, both for their beauty and for his memory. He put everything into these pages, his whole heart. Now they are where they belong."

She was crying again. Mavis sniffled, hugging the books to her chest and somewhat bulging belly. She allowed Priscilla to draw her into a gentle embrace. Half of her wanted to scream; wild magic tore at the uncaring giant who rocked her like a babe. "He told me he will wait for you, on the other side. Wherever it is he went, he will wait there."

She managed not to wail and even reined in the thrashing magic, but it still hurt. Nestling against the offered warmth, Mavis mumbled into her chest: "I wanted to tell him. Fourty years and he never came. No one ever saw him. If he'd come at least once, he would have known."

It hurt so much. Just one visit and none of this would have to happen. But it did happen and so she could only mourn the loss of her love.

 

[NightmareWarden]

This story is just full of beautiful stories of human pain. How various characters accept it, and then rise above it. This version of Fairy Tail is living up to its hype, as a family- which means far, far more than "parties and bickering every day."


I'm curious if Lucy's father will survive the time skip this time around. The two of them have reconciled and he shouldn't fall into destitution/despair like he did in canon. Additionally, when Lucy returns she'll be able to talk about her family's history with Mavis. I think our expectant mother with have some insights regarding that whole plot, even if she doesn't have some key to beating Acnologia.


I wonder what Mavis will name her baby, or if she will follow Rita Dreyar's lead and ask another to name them. I really hope she isn't going to name a baby boy "Zeref." The kid deserves a chance to become his own person. Perhaps some name inspired by a mixing of light and darkness...

Spoiler: Other speculations

I have a question. Would Ultear's Arc of Time work on Zeref's book of the end, or Kyoka's personal book? Both of these seem somewhat alive. If Ultear's going to travel the land for a time, she might run into Kyoka.

Edit: Also, Priscilla's decision to give Mavis the original versions of Zeref's books is a sign of maturity. That must really hurt her, these are some of the most heartfelt possessions she has gained since coming to this world. She probably cares about these more than any item she cared about in Ariamis.


I wonder if Erza used Priscilla's dagger during her fight against Grimoire Heart. It wouldn't be an easy decision, but she might have.

 

[Naron]

I have a question. Would Ultear's Arc of Time work on Zeref's book of the end, or Kyoka's personal book? Both of these seem somewhat alive. If Ultear's going to travel the land for a time, she might run into Kyoka.

Click to shrink...

Arc of Time is unable to affect living beings, or at least something of a human complexity. Etherious Books seem to be alive and appear to contain the given Etherious' soul. So no, Arc of Time can not affect them.

 

[fenxi]

Would be interesting to see Makarovs reaction to free adult Mavis and her child

 

[Naron]

"A more sophisticated application of Inventory magic is Requip. Where the former already allows to store all matter of non-living objects in a subspace pocket, the latter covers the seamless exchange of equipment in both directions. A trained Requip wizard can change from a broken set of armour into a fresh one in a matter of minutes; less than that if they mastered this discipline. The same goes for clothes, weapons, and any other kind of equipment. Various wizards from collectors to warriors at least dabble in this discipline for its convenience."

-excerpt from "The Soul of Magic"

---

The last she saw was Acnologia bearing down on them as they clasped hands. Magic sung around them, a symphony conducted by hands not their own. Erza did not close her eyes, ready to face death alongside her family.

Except death did not come. Cloudless sky and dragon both vanished, to be replaced by a great hollow in existence. She spent a timeless eon in this nowhere, faintly aware of her friends. But soon enough, something dragged her forward, away from them; Erza struggled as best she could, but it was futile. Ever stronger the pull became until she felt herself falling forward; her hand slipped out of theirs and she was alone. A sense of vertigo followed despite the absence of surfaces in all directions.

Something massive passed her by in the other direction. Erza could not get a good look beside that it was black; with it came a sense of oppression, of weight far beyond the physical. She shuddered, but then she was past and the impression vanished.

Moments or hours later, she could not quite tell, light shone from a tear in the nothing just ahead. A wound in reality not yet closed. She raced toward it, reaching just before the tear pulled itself shut.

Then Erza Scarlet fell from the sky. Her battered body hit packed dirt after several metres, driving all air from her lungs. She wheezed, staring upward at a slightly too blue sky; crimson tresses pooled around her like freshly spilled blood. The knightess stared upward, heaving for breath as she lay. After all the nothing, her senses needed time to adjust; the sweet scent of flowers and plants, buzzing of insects and birdsong, the song of life was almost unfamiliar now.

After staring at nothing for a few minutes, Erza slowly forced herself to sit. Her body protested, but she did not care. There was a little Ethernano around, enough to cover herself with. She kept drawing it in while studying her surroundings; it soon became apparent she was lucky, having landed on the only spot of bare earth in an entire ruin. Battered stone loomed to all sides, overgrown by plants. In its center flickered an orange glow from a pile of ash and bone, arrayed around a coiled sword.

And a giant mushroom was peeking at her from behind several oversized pots.

Erza did a double-take, gaze snapping back to the peculiar sight. She rubbed her eyes, but the mushroom remained there. Stretched long, with a body of white fibres and a red cap. Two slit-like eyes were focussed on her as much as Erza focussed on the phenomenon. Taking a few steps to the right revealed that it grew from a crack in the far wall. Dozens of normal-sized fungi adorned a root growing up the wall to its side.

Mushroom and human stared at each other for long moments. Then it surprised her again and spoke: "Well met, traveler. Thy scent is quite peculiar, unlike any I ever witnessed. What bringeth thou to fair Oolacile in these trying times?"

Going by their voice, it was a female; her warm alto took all threat from the situation.

After allowing her alienation another moment to reign supreme, Erza pushed it aside. She had seen stranger by now. It took several attempts to respond, though; her throat was dry and talking difficult. "I'm afraid I am lost. I never heard of this place before. Could you tell me where we are?"

"Naturally. Thou will find a brook behind yonder wall, to sate thy thirst."

Erza had half a mind to ask how the mushroom knew what was outside of her sight, but stopped herself. Instead she mumbled thanks and went to grab the water. She exhausted most of her supplies after the battles on Tenrou Island. A generous amount was gathered in her largest pot, which she then carried back to the mushroom. Making sure to keep a respectful distance, Erza built herself a fireplace to boil the water; a spark of fire magic ignited it just fine.

Now that she had some time to absorb Ethernano and refill her empty tank, she could take off the torn armour as well. A wordless flash of light had her garbed in a comfortable, white blouse and long, flaring blue skirt.

"Most impressive," the mushroom commented. "Thou art a sorceress, then?"

Erza shrugged. "Something like that." She stared longingly at the water, but it was barely warm yet. Her throat ached. "Tell me about this place, and I tell you about me when this is done?"

"That is acceptable. Do forgive me, I tend to forget humans are liable to sickness from imbibing water as is." When Erza turned back to her, she chuckled. "Thou didst admirably to hide thy gaze, but I noticed nonetheless. I am a mushroom after all. But where art mine manners? I am Elizabeth, guardian of this sanctuary and godmother of Princess Dusk. Oolacile is a human realm and the home of sorceries. Yet one such as yours, I have never beheld in my life."

Elizabeth wiggled a little, studying Erza's appearance. "If thou art a scholar, here to learn from our own, then thou shall find thy desires requited not. The same if thou art but a visitor. The Abyss hath risen from the remains of Primeval Man. It all but consumed Oolacile whole. Princess Dusk was since taken as well. Only husks remain in our fair realm."

The sudden gravity gave Erza pause. She stared at the mushroom, waiting for some kind of punch line, but nothing came. "You mean it?" she croaked; Elizabeth nodded. "And no one came to help?"

"Oh, no. Not at all. Knight Artorias came to push back the Abyss. Then followed Hawkeye Gough and the Lord's Blade, Ciaran, to combat the mighty dragon who made his nest nearby. Three of Lord Gwyn's four most trusted knights, tis quite an honour. And yet," she murmured wistfully, turning to stare at where Erza suspected the nearest town to be, "it hath been days. I wonder. Even such a hero possesses but a murmur of dark. Wouldst this be enough to be felled by fel might?"

One of these names niggled at the back of Erza's mind. She knew it, but from where?

Then it hit her, conversations she had with Priscilla when the kind giantess was not even a member of the guild. But it had been so long, Erza barely remembered any of it. Only the name of a place remained. "So Anor Londo is near?"

"Indeed. The city of gods rests atop yonder hill." Elizabeth turned the other direction, pointing her cap at a veritable mountain. This also highlighted the strange geography for the first time. "How peculiar that thou dost not know this. Have thou arrived from beyond Lordran's borders, perchance?"

Erza silently turned around to study her surroundings again. She had a decent grasp of Fiore, but none of the landmarks were here. This was the realm Priscilla once lived in.

Then she remembered what they learned during the Fantasia Tournament and all thought came to a screeching halt. Erza was not just in another country, she somehow went to an entirely different world. Her body swayed, what strength she had leaving her. She barely managed not to fall to her knees.

"Art thou alright?"

The honest concern Elizabeth asked that question with gave Erza a chance to focus. She took a deep breath and forced her body under control. "Y-Yeah," she coughed. "Just, far from home. I need to think for a bit."

"Very well. I shall tend thy fire, then. Come to think of it, traveler, thou should rest at yonder bonfire. Refill thy Estus flask. I know precious little of its properties, but perhaps a sip of Estus may soothe thy throat?"

When Erza stared at her incomprehendingly, Elizabeth motioned for the coiled blade in the ash pile. Erza kept staring at her, which gave the mushroom pause. "Art thou, perchance, not undead?"

"What?"

"Intriguing. Tis rare nowadays, to meet one not yet affected by the Darksign."

This word meant nothing to Erza; yet the longer they spoke of it, the more barely remembered conversations she managed to dredge up. Elizabeth merely hummed to herself.

She settled at the bonfire regardless; despite being but cinders, it projected an intense warmth that settled all the way in Erza's battered body. Her muscles relaxed, minor cramps she barely noticed before unwinding. Her exhaustion was slowly washed away. Contrary to her intention however, she simply stared at the embers without a single thought until Elizabeth called her back. She extinguished the fire and stared longingly at her pot, still too hot to be drunk from.

With a chance to rest, at least Erza's mental faculties returned somewhat. "Shouldn't we help these knights? There has to be something we can do, right?"

"Worry not, they art most capable individuals." Elizabeth inclined her head, though even the lack of a face did not hide her doubt. Once she became aware of Erza's arched brow, she sighed. "Although several days passed since their arrival yet all remains as it were. I fear for my princess. And yet, if even Knight Artorias was found wanting, what chance stand we, a stranger to these lands and an elderly mushroom?"

The water was still a mite warm, but at this point Erza did not care. She tilted the pot and drank greedily until it was only two thirds filled and her blouse damp. Then she allowed herself a contended sigh, before remembering the situation.

"Ah, apologies."

Elizabeth merely chuckled, but the embarassment did not fade easily. Erza refilled her waterskins next, forcing her thoughts back to the question. "But we should be fine. I killed my fair share of beasts in my world. If this Artorias needs help to see this through, he will get it."

Despite saying so, her aching body told a different story. "Though having fought for hours before waking up here didn't leave me in good condition. Another guild, elite wizards, and then a dragon."

Elizabeth perked up, standing at attention. "Pardon, didst thou truly face a dragon? Not a mere drake or wyvern, but a dragon?"

"Yes. Although we did not actually win."

The mushroom pondered this before shrugging. A few spores fell off her red cap. "Yet thou still live, a feat which few can boast of. Why, the dragon that plagued Oolacile of late seems to have vanished; for days now I have not heard the sound of his wingsbeats, or his roars of challenge. Yet neither a dying scream, nor the sound of grand battle. But alas."

Erza was about to inquire what her new acquaintance pondered when several white mushrooms grew from the ground to her feet. She quickly stepped back so as to not crush them, prompting another chuckle. "Take these and let them rejuvenate thee, Dame."

"Dame?"

"For what else couldst thou be?"

"Fair enough." Erza kneeled to poke the sudden outgrowth. It felt squishy like any mushroom she ever encountered. Glancing back up at the expectant Elizabeth, she carefully plucked all four and wiped them clean. After hesitating a little longer, she stuck one in her mouth. It felt incredibly weird to do this in front of a sapient mushroom. The gooey texture and earthy taste did not help, rather reminding her of the fact she never liked fungi to begin with. A few quick chews were all Erza managed before forcing herself to swallow.

Once its slimy trail reached her belly, warmth blossomed through Erza's body. Energy flooded her system like an electric shock. Where the bonfire was soothing, this wiped away all the minor ailments and aches. Erza stood thunderstruck as her body recovered from hours of combat, unable to feel any magic at work. Elizabeth chuckled once again when the redhead gobbled up the second mushroom. "A humble gift, to one willing to lend aid without request or recompense."

Erza inclined her head, managing a smile. "Thank you. These were just what I needed." She pocketed the final two mushrooms for later; they could not go into the item box before being dried, as they were organic. "I will be off now. Thank you, really."

"Tis nothing. Prithee be careful. Although, before thou leaveth, what is thy name?"

The knightess stopped, realising that she never gave it. "Erza Scarlet. I will be back later."

"Fare thee well, Dame Erza."

Elizabeth was soon alone again, chuckling to herself about the odd visitor. At the same time, her demeanor did inspire confidence. Unwavering despite injury and kind at heart.

Meanwhile, Erza herself focussed what Ethernano she recovered to switch outfits. Her beloved breasplate took form, skirt replaced with a plated variant. Metal greaves and bracers followed, as well as a straight longsword. She did not know what lay ahead, so a basic setup seemed best; Erza had to ration her Requip for now, what with only having limited Ethernano.

What she found was... less intimidating than imagined. After crossing a solid stone bridge, she was accosted by living scarecrows. They came at her with hedge trimmers and spears, easily dispatched. She may be low on magic, but her body and skills were honed. Even the larger stone guardians with their hammers proved little issue; Erza merely brought out a hammer of her own so as to not break her blade.

What she saw along the way did not inspire confidence, though. Once lush woods were slowly losing their luster; black veins ran through the ground, faintly pulsing. Ethernano was a bit more plentiful near them, but Erza did not linger. She quickly found a steep cliff and reoriented, then almost tripped into a hole in the ground. The chasm beneath was empty and bereft of light, its mere sight making her shudder. An abyssal maw, waiting for hapless prey to gobble up.

She was glad to leave this behind. Less than an hour after parting with Elizabeth, a giant colosseum came in sight. It towered over the woods, dilapidated though it was. Erza absently bisected a scarecrow that tumbled down the hill she leapt from, eyes on the structure. It elicited a sense of foreboding; for what, she did not know.

Erza allowed herself to stop and breathe for a second. Her sweaty undershirt clung to her skin thanks to the humid woodland and exertion. But now there was enough Ethernano within her to face whatever lay ahead. She thought back to her friends, wherever they may be now. There was nothing she could do for them at the moment, so Erza did what she always had: she forged onward. Once she saw how things shook out, she could decide how to proceed.

Holding her blade at rest, she approached the city of Oolacile. Nothing accosted her on this final stretch and soon she passed through the imposing stone arch. Fresh Ethernano wafted around her, but thin, black veins also ran through the walls. The rot spread outward from somewhere ahead. Her metal boots clacked on the stone floor, the noise her only companion. Erza was alert for whatever may come.

Her first glimpse of the colosseum's interior also taught her what became of the townsfolk: a caricature of a human shambled around the only exit, almost exactly opposite to her entry point. What few scraps he wore did not hide his sex; else she would not have known. His head bloated into a nearly shapeless, dark cocoon that gleamed with a dozen red eyes. Unnaturally elongated arms dragged across the ground, skin discoloured into a sickly gray.

Once Erza fought down her revulsion and made to move again, the thing perked up. Its head turned her way with the echo of her first step. Clawed hands rose, a piercing screech began in its throat... and it was rent asunder by a mighty greatsword. The blade came down with such force that spider cracks spread out along the ground. Black blood flew, thankfully too far away to sully her.

Erza went on guard immediately, sizing up the newcomer. Her gut told her to run at the sight of a broken knight. Garbed in grey armour with some torn, blue cloth attached around the shoulders. His left arm hung limp, clearly broken. The right held his greatsword with little issue. Black sludge oozed from countless wounds across his entire body, breaking apart links in the armour. She could not see his face in the shadows of his helmet, but there was no need. He clearly sized her up in turn.

"Are you Artorias?"

She received no response except a wail of mindless anger and pain. The knight crouched on all fours and Erza braced herself. Then he leapt twenty metres high. Erza's gaze followed, but the sun blinded her; she leapt aside instinctually to blink away the spots. A loud crash told her of the impact, chips of stone clinking against her chest.

She marshalled her reserves and enhanced herself, just in time to block Artorias' brutal swing with her own blade. The desecrated steel tore a chunk out of her sword. No more than scratches it received in a hundred battles, yet before him it was but a toy. Erza left his reach and focussed; the arrival of a magic circle gave Artorias pause, just long enough to draw out a new sword. This time she charged, slashing straight across his chest and sending him flying. A trail of black blood followed.

The warrior realigned in mid-air, landing on his feet and stampeding back at her. Erza dodged, only to find herself harried around the arena. Artorias was relentless, swinging with the force of a raging bull and the speed of a wasp. He gave her no quarter, immortal skill shining where his mind was long lost in darkness. All Erza could do was deflect his assault, losing four more blades before he relented.

Both of them drew back to recover. Erza expressed a polearm next to take the advantage in reach. Then her senses tingled; Ethernano coalesced within Artorias, an aura of darkness shrouding him. Her eyes widened and she dashed forward to stop whatever this was.

Just as the tip of her lance pierced a gap in his armour, he screamed. The physical force of it stopped her assault and threw her back; Erza lost her grip on the weapon. She caught her fall on her hands and pushed off to right herself. Her own lance whistled by just below her head. She drew for another, only to come face to helmet with Artorias halfway through her descent.

He swung with enough force to bisect any lesser being. Even Erza, who stood head and shoulders above most, could not deflect the blow. She punched his wrist and pulled on her discarded lance, levitating it against her foot to push off of. But it was too little, too late. The butcher's blade missed her torso thanks to her efforts, only to come down on her right shoulder instead. What paltry magical defenses she could throw up were shattered, her reinforced body cleaved in two.

Erza screamed as pain overtook her. Crimson drowned out black on the floor, two thirds of an arm slapping down in a shower of lifeblood. Erza fought through the shock and stepped back again. The follow-up almost grazed her nose, throwing up enough wind to make her hair flutter. She felt faint, heart thumping heavily in her chest. Panicked magic circles began to apply pressure on her wound, closing it up as best she could. Artorias cared naught for her distress, coming at her relentlessly. She was unarmed, quite literally this time.

Erza would die here. She hated the realisation and yet it became ever more true. She was losing blood, her magic reserves were low, and her opponent's mindless husk outclassed her severely.

Except she refused. Force of will fought back the darkness lapping at her mind. Erza clenched her teeth, growling at Artorias. She wound under a swing and headbutted him, magically pulling on her forgotten lance again; it ran him through from behind just as he staggered back, but went ignored. She did not mind, this gave her all the time she needed.

The shining scarlet constantly in her vision reminded Erza of one other tool at her disposal. She grasped for it, the unmarred steel materialising in her remaining hand. A dagger, oh so harmless in comparison to its larger cousin in Artorias' hand. Yet it pulsed with purpose, anticipation almost, to spill the blood of Gwyn's knight.

When next he came at her, Erza focussed on dodging. She went deep into his reach to land a hit of her own, then took a knee to the face for her trouble. But a thin, black line was drawn across his thigh before she went flying, nose broken.

Erza realigned and landed on her feet, only to be chased around the room again. This time however, she had a plan. Dozens of stings she delivered to her enemy, every time he moved past or wound up. Rivulets of black began to pour down his body from every tiny wound. Where they just coagulated before, this time they remained oozing. Artorias took no notice of the ever larger trail he left, but Erza did. He grew slower, blood loss soon affecting him more than her.

Whatever boost he applied earlier wore off then. He barely managed to roll backward, coating himself in his and her blood. Erza followed up immediately, feeling the twinge of Ethernano before seeing the dark aura again. Dagger alight, she shouted back at him and ran him through from the front. This time she hit the heart.

The world held its breath. Both combatants stood still, half leaning on each other. Artorias' body began to grow limp, a veritable river of black flowing down his chest and back. His blade dropped with a loud crack on impact with the ground. But his hand moved, twitching fingers closing around her torn shoulder. Erza whimpered from the pain and tried to dislodge herself, but she lacked the strength.

Then a voice reached her ear. Hoarse, weak, and broken, but a voice nonetheless. Artorias fought for words, feebly clawing at her even as she supported most of his weight. "My, Sif. Sif. Below, in the dark. Please!"

Erza was half delirious from pain and blood loss. Her body battered and broken, held up by force of will alone. She understood his plea regardless. Letting go of the dagger, she reached up to cup his armoured cheek.

"Don't worry. I will save him."

"...thank you."

He fell limp then, slowly sliding off her side. It felt as if his drop to the ground shook the world. Everything went sideways and Erza fell next to him, vision going black.

 

[LordVile]

Best doggo incoming.

 

[Naron]

When Erza woke from dreamless slumber, it was still bright.

Her arm itched all over. She absently reached out to scratch it, but only felt empty air and solid stone. It took another moment to remember what happened. She was not in pain, though. And put to rest on something soft; a bundle of cloth, of a sort.

Erza's entire body was sore. She barely managed to sit up, groaning faintly to herself. Then she found her breastplate, greaves, boots, and bracers all arrayed neatly by her side. A small, bloodsoaked bundle lay next to them; she did not need to check to know what was inside.

"Thou art a hardy woman," an unfamiliar voice spoke. Rich, cultured, and clearly female. Erza's head turned to find the speaker; she kneeled next to the fallen knight nearby. She, too, was dressed in elaborate black armour. Unlike him, a full suit of navy blue obscured the metal in most places. Where it was visible, white lines ran across in reminiscence of a spiderweb. A helmet covered her entire head, white mask hiding even the face. Strands of blonde hair fell out to its sides, as well as in a braid out the helmet's back. Even without seeing her eyes, Erza knew they were focussed on her.

"My heartfelt thanks, stranger. For freeing poor Artorias of the Abyss."

"...who are you?"

It was the only question she could think to ask. The woman studied her a moment longer, then rose in a single, fluid motion. She strode toward Erza with the grace of a cat, Priscilla's dagger held in a backhand grip. "I am known as Ciaran, Lord's Blade and knight of Lord Gwyn." She presented the weapon to Erza, who accepted it back with a nod. "And I stood witness to thine ordeal. Few could have bested Artorias, even as he was."

Erza studied her weapon momentarily. An errant thought told her that somehow, her friend still protected her from beyond this world. She focussed her Ethernano and stored the dagger back into her item box. Ciaran clearly saw but did not comment. Erza rubbed her aching forehead, trying to dispell the feeling of cotton behind her skull.

"Why didn't you help?" she asked after a lengthy pause. Ciaran stared at her without answer, then slowly glanced back to the fallen knight. Her fingers twitched ever so slightly, shoulders slumping almost imperceptibly. The silence lingered and through it, Erza understood. Her own pain of losing Jellal oozed back from where she banished it to the back of her mind. Time soothed the wound, but it did not hurt any less.

"You loved him."

"Aye."

"I'm sorry."

"Do not be. He would have wished for an end rather than to become a puppet. Only the abomination is at fault."

The sheer vitriol she hissed the final sentence with made Erza wary of pursuing the subject. She slowly worked her way to her feet, stumbling sideways. Ciaran was by her side in a heartbeat, steadying her. "Easy. The body takes time to adjust for loss of limb. Thou were quite fortunate to carry such potent restoratives. The mushrooms," she elaborated under Erza's questioning look. A quick pat of her pocket made the redhead realise the two she saved were indeed gone. "Alas, they can not regrow entire limbs. Thy blood is replenished, however. Thy skin and flesh mended. My apologies as well, it was the best I could do."

Erza nodded slowly. She took a deep breath and reached over with her remaining hand; the bandage came off easily, seemingly clean. Underneath it was... her shoulder, followed by about a third of her upper arm. Pale skin grew over the stump, as if there had never been any more to it. She stared for a long time, panting softly.

Then she remembered his final request and forced back the issue for later. Erza was not done yet. "He said something about a Sif. Do you know who that is?"

"Sif yet lives?" Ciaran perked up at once, then glanced back to Artorias. "...I see. So this is how he came to lose his shield. Sif is his faithful companion, last of the great grey wolves who ruled the forests of Lordran. She is still but a pup, nurtured ever since he rescued her from the beast that slew her pack. But if she waits beneath, I am afraid reaching her is quite impossible. The Abyss rules yonder and if it grasps at thee, well." She motioned for her corrupted beloved. Erza inclined her head in understanding.

Then she felt a soft breeze hit her face. It carried fresh Ethernano, reminding Erza that she was not like them. Conviction began to grow within her chest, drowning out the myriad of minor aches. She took a deep breath, let the magic fill her, and firmed up. "Which way is fastest to the Abyss?"

"Didst thou not listen?"

"It was his final request. I have to at least try."

Ciaran stood dumbfounded, staring at Erza; at least she was used to this particular reaction. It almost allowed to imagine the expression under that helmet. When she remained firm, the other knightess silently pointed toward the exit leading into town. "The only route inside leads through Oolacile. Much of the city fell since, making it a difficult path to traverse. Allow me to escort thee, at least for as long as I am able. Thou need time to reestablish thy center of balance."

"Good point. Thank you."

"Allow me just a few minutes to say goodbye."

"Of course."

She left Ciaran to kneel at Artorias' side once more. While the other woman was busy, Erza slowly prowled around the colosseum to test her balance. She could move well enough, but any fast motions required concious corrections. It was not ideal for one who expected battle, but she would have to make do. More Ethernano breezed in as well, refilling her reserves. Magic could at least compensate for weakness of the flesh.

She slowly gathered her belongings, depositing them back into her item box. Next Erza produced a roll of gauze to bind her arm with; she could not risk the stump flobbing around in the middle of a fight.

When she was done, a soft rustle caught her attention. Ciaran rose once more, drawing two curved blades from their sheathes. One a dark grey, the other bright orange. She left behind a fallen knight with his hands folded on his chest, joining Erza at the archway.

The first thing she realised upon entering Oolacile proper was that Ciaran meant 'fell' quite literally. Great clefts opened along the roads and plazas, having swallowed most buildings; peering down one revealed only an endless chasm. It was unnatural to the point Erza shuddered once more. Then she wondered how the rest of the city remained up here, only to notice a distant building crumble as it fell into the abyss.

"The process grows ever faster," Ciaran murmured. She bounced on the balls of her feet, striding several steps ahead. Another of the mutated villagers came her way, only to be greeted by a flash; the gleaming blade drew all attention, only for the dark one to pierce their side. "We must make haste," the knightess continued as if nothing happened, ignoring the damaged enemy. Erza was about to ask when they crumpled with a wail.

Hurrying after her unconcerned ally, she could not help but ask: "Can't they be saved?"

"I think not. If the Abyss could corrupt even one as formidable as Artorias, what chance dost these peasants stand? They art but puppets, now." Ciaran did not sound happy, but Erza caught her drift.

"Still, poison?"

"Tis effective, no?"

"Fair enough."

The other woman led her down the crumbling main road, now little more than a small path. Any enemies that approached were dispatched with brutal efficiency, the rest ignored. Erza detected no wasted motion, no hesitation, no openings even. Ciaran danced among them like a goddess of death. Her skill and grace put any lesser woman to shame, even as allies.

After a quarter hour or so of wandering, Erza began to feel more confident again. Her balance slowly evened out and ever more Ethernano surrounded them. More than enough to project weapons and thrust them forward with levitation. The first time she saw a spear rocket by like a javelin, Ciaran paused to glance back at her. "Such technique would have come in handy earlier," she mused, the question implied. Once Erza explained that she lacked Ethernano before to cast magic with, the other woman inclined her head. "I see."

Soon after that point, Erza became impatient. Ciaran certainly picked stable paths and rarely even stopped for enemies, but this was going too slow. Ever more deformed people were drawn to them; some even started throwing odd, black magic at them.

"Halt."

Ciaran stopped her walk immediately, allowing Erza to catch up. The redhead glanced at the nearest edge and the chasm beneath. "This is too slow," she explained. "The way Artorias spoke, Sif needs help now. I'll go the direct way."

"Thy magic grants flight, then?" Ciaran mocked. In turn Erza snorted and stepped onto a larger boulder, which she then levitated. The other woman's posture lost its hint of annoyance immediately.

"No, it doesn't work on living beings. But why not make something else float while I stand on it?" After bragging for a moment, she focussed back on the depths. "I do not know how long it will take or where to find Sif. Please keep the path back clear."

"Can do. Best of luck, Dame Erza."

"To you as well, Dame Ciaran."

They exchanged grave nods, then Erza dove. The darkness swallowed her whole, like the maw of a waiting beast. Her descent lasted a full minute before she found ground; solid if soft soil, completely soaked with abyssal sludge. Yet there was light, if only ambient; nothing seemed to reach from the open sky above, but Erza could still see.

What was more, the Ethernano down here was abundant. It shocked her system once she registered just how much permeated the air. She shook herself like a wet dog and drew out a dozen blades; they arrayed themselves in two wings of six, but her reserves of magic refilled as fast as she used them up. Freshly energised, Erza dashed forward to begin her search.

Her enthusiasm did not last long, however. Not only was it dark, but the absence of any sound bar the slapping of her boots against the soil soon took its toll. An eerie silence kept its hold of the entire abyss. There was no one here, except... spirits. Sprites, perhaps. Black shapes with vaguely humanoid outlines in white, turning her way the moment she drew near. They did not speak, made no noise, simply ventured closer. Erza shouted to stop, to no response but more sprites noticing her. She retreated and they followed.

When she made her floating swords snap forward to impale them, they barely reacted. What may be a head turned down to study the sudden hole in their ethereal chests. Anything but the sprites twice Erza's size immediately dispersed; she felt a little sick when the tiny ones arrived, reminding her far too much of children. Yet she marshalled her will and killed them. They were but dust in the wind, a black mist yet to disperse.

Soon enough she was charging across the area. The Abyss seemed endless, but Erza came upon solid walls leading upward. How far she went, she did not know. Erza could not see any further than a few dozen metres at any given time. The silence began to gnaw on her nerves. Seeking a wolf in the dark, haunted by dark sprites, she began to grow increasingly desperate as time passed. Her body slowly demanded rest after how long she spent active. She needed to sleep and recuperate. Yet at the same time she was brimming with Ethernano. The dichotomy wore at her also. She had little else to occupy her time, unwilling to start thinking. Lest the absence of her arm reassert itself.

A flicker of silver in the corner of her eyes made Erza's head snap around. Then she stopped, almost stumbling as she tried to understand what she saw. Was that a giant cat, just lounging on one of the terraces?

Erza rubbed her eyes, but it was still there. After dispatching another two sprites, she approached slowly.

"Hello?"

Halfway there, the feline dispersed with an ethereal meow. Only to reappear down the ledge amidst an underground river, barely at the edge of her vision. Erza stared at it and it stared back.

When she leapt down, it vanished and reappeared again. This time she was sure to have spotted a grin on its wide lips. Erza scowled, but followed the apparition anyway. She had no other clues and no time to keep running around aimlessly. An almost mocking meow underlined her thoughts as she pursued. The splattering of water under her steps drew more sprites, but they died as easily as the rest. If these things could die, that was. She did not know and right now she did not care.

Whatever guided her, it seemed to know exactly where to go. Erza traversed the shallow river and jogged along a barren stone wall until a single spark of light caught her attention. It flickered fitfully, barely reaching out a small crack in the wall. She stared at it momentarily; finding this from a distance was basically impossible. She could have searched for days without ever noticing.

Despite her previous annoyance and the apparition's absence, she threw a smile toward the open chasm.

"Thanks, cat."

Perhaps it was just her imagination, but she thought she heard a faint growl in response. The closest to a purr a large feline could get.

Sliding into the crack, it quickly widened into a cave. Sprites populated the area, completely ignoring her; a small crowd of them, pushing at each other. Their would-be-heads were turned to something behind a corner. Another flash followed and Erza quickly skewered the lot of them.

The light grew brighter once she rounded that same corner. But there were also more sprites, an entire room chock full of them. Each time one got too close to the gleaming something in the center, a flash of light pushed it back. Erza could not even tell their target with how dense the writhing cluster around it was. Then again, there was only one being beside her this far down.

Just to make certain, she doubled her active weaponry to two dozen. The drain on her magic became noticeable for the first time, if not particularly strenuous. She lacked the mental capacity to control them individually beyond simple motions. Fortunately, simple motions were all she needed. Spears and lances shot forward, impaling a dozen sprites each as they traversed the room. Swords flashed around the gleaming field, hacking up what she could not target with the polearms to avoid friendly fire.

The room was empty within a minute, excepting her and the wolf. The most beautiful wolf she had ever seen, her coat of pearly fur standing out even amidst the darkness. She stood when Erza arrived, tail wagging, only to slump when she registered who had not come. A soft whine sounded.

When she approached, Sif drew a shortsword from its sheath at her flank. Growling threateningly, she may have frightened a lesser woman. Standing as tall as the fully grown wolves Erza knew, even she found herself impressed. But she was not here to fight and stopped right in front of the barrier. It sprung from the edges of a dark blue greatshield.

"It's okay, Sif." The wolf's tension lessened upon hearing her name. Erza smiled gently. "Artorias asked me to bring you out of here. He can't come for you."

Another soft whine sounded and the sword dropped from her muzzle. Sif slumped further. With no more signs of aggression or fear, Erza slowly reached out; Sif allowed it. The moment her hand passed through the barrier, it vanished.

Her greave was stored so she could luxuriate in the fluffy fur for just a few moments. The wolf accepted her petting. "That's a good girl," Erza cooed, then focussed. "Let's get you out of here. Come on, I need to move this shield."

Sif hesitantly let herself be coaxed off. She sheathed her sword while the unfamiliar human levitated Artorias' cracked shield. Then the wolf was ushered out of the hole she hid in, shadowing Erza's steps. Alert though she was, no more sprites approached. There were none left nearby.

Right outside, Erza set down the shield and beckoned Sif. "Stand on here with me. Come on, hurry. I don't know how long you can withstand this." Though clearly confused, her charge did as told and received another headpat. "Good girl. You should lie down, that makes it easier to keep your balance."

Sif did that as well, though the look in her eyes clearly conveyed how befuddled she was. Erza smiled and lifted them both on the shield. Years of practice helped keep her balance even while standing. Now Sif was plainly shocked, her surprised whimper trailing after them as Erza lifted them out of the chasm.

Their ascent was about as eventful as her descent, so she stored away all her weapons. They soon emerged from a steadily growing hole in the forest outside of Oolacile; Erza rose high to orient herself. The colosseum was easy to spot, thankfully. Although she realised that ever greater parts of the area fell. The process was gradual, but the forest lost about a third of its size compared to when she arrived.

Erza sped up in response, carefully balancing and angling the shield so she did not throw Sif off. Wolves were not meant to fly after all.

She never saw such a happy canine than when their improvised ride settled down. Sif leapt off, rolling around on the ground. It was only a moment before she stilled and turned her head; seeing that Erza saw the whole thing, she quickly righted herself and shook dirt out of her fur. The redhead chuckled, which made Sif turn up her snout.

Then she sniffed and her head snapped toward the archway in front of them. Before Erza knew it, the wolf howled and tore off inside. She followed belatedly, only to find her standing over the remains of her friend. Artorias lay peacefully, undisturbed by the monsters. Sif nudged him, tried to get her snout under folded hands for pets. When nothing happened, she whimpered and howled out in anguish. It was pure grief, echoing across all of Oolacile. Then Sif slumped down fully, staring at Artorias.

Erza walked over slowly, crouching next to the despondent wolf. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "He was too far gone. This was all I could do for him."

A soft whine followed, but nothing else. Moments later, Ciaran arrived through the other archway. She joined them somberly.

"Thou were successful," she mused, settling on Sif's other side. "Twice now thou hast gone above and beyond what could be expected of thee." Sif accepted a gloved hand onto his head, caressing gently. Ciaran sighed. "Thou persevered where we failed. The dragon Gough and I came for hath escaped and Artorias hath fallen. The Abyss spreads ever further. Tis only a matter of time till Oolacile is swallowed whole. Hah. What fine knights we art."

Her monologue was interrupted by rustling cloth and clacking steel. Erza stood, expression firm. Once she saw the other two looking at her, she smiled. "Isn't that what friends are about? If you can not do it yourself, you ask someone else for help. That is what makes the bonds between people so special. There is no limit, no need to go it alone." She herself took far too long to learn that lesson. "I can survive down there, so I will go and end this."

"Madness! Traversing the Abyss is one matter, but facing its heart?" Ciaran rose to block Erza's path. "Thou can not persevere alone. Even if it spells my doom, allow me to join thine assault."

Sif rose as well, a determined bark declaring her intentions. Erza met both of them with narrow eyes.

"The last time I tried to finish the job at the expense of my life, a good friend came and beat the stupid out of me. The only reason I am not doing so with you now is that we do not have time." Both stiffened, likely out of surprise. Erza shook her head, then motioned back to Artorias. "Leave this to me and take the time to grieve his passing properly."

She began to walk then. Ciaran did not step in her way again. The other woman stood stock still. Only the sound of her voice gave Erza pause for a moment: "I hold thee to that. Should thou not return, I shall personally hunt thee through thy next life."

Neither turned to look at the other. Erza gave no response either, though the words etched a faint smile onto her face. She left the colosseum silently, once again using a boulder to descend. Only this time she was not seeking Sif, but the root of this infestation. Instead of stopping upon reaching the chasm, Erza descended further. Every pit she found, she leapt into; somewhere at the bottom of it, she reasoned, she would find Primeval Man.

After ending in several dead ends however, she realised this would take a while if she just blindly leapt. Erza stopped to take out a few sprites that followed her, breathing in the abundant Ethernano.

It was in this moment that the dots connected: there was ever more of the magical particle the closer one was to the Abyss. A leyline must lie somewhere around these parts, spewing forth its contents. The strongest monsters always had their nest as close to leylines as they could. Meaning, if her logic held, she would find her target where the Ethernano was most dense.

After ascertaining that no enemies were nearby, she closed her eyes to focus. Without any sound but her own roaring pulse and beating heart, without any input from her eyes but darkness, the only sense she needed was her sense for magic. It took a mere minute until she had a direction and tore off toward it. Erza leapt over pits along the way now, enhancing the strength in her legs as far as she could. The ground crumbled when she pushed off, but those soft noises and fragments were quickly left behind and forgotten.

Through the darkness Erza raced, right toward its heart. Less and less sprites impeded her, even the phantom beings afraid of what lay near. Her expression firmed up as weapons expressed themselves. A dozen spears, six swords, four axes, and two clubs. Then one more appeared, wielded in her hand. She could not afford niceties or restraint. Priscilla's dagger seemed to gleam even in this eternal night, almost humming at the idea of slaying a primal being.

Just as she crashed into a ledge, dozens of glowing red eyes appeared ahead; they stared straight at her. Erza faltered, instinctual dread locking up her body. Whatever it was, it terrified the animal part of her self. Right there by the leyline's core, bathed in it.

She moved past the fear and kept going, right at the beast. Right at him. Manus, Father of the Abyss. Erza knew his name, it rode on his gaze and every fibre of his being. Blood trickled out her ears as her brain tried to comprehend the silhouette that slowly appeared from the darkness, easily Priscilla's size and twice as massive. Giant antlers crowned his malformed head, exposed ribs as armour for a body covered in pitch-black fur. She understood now why everyone aboveground had gone insane; humble beings like humans were not meant to comprehend the enormity of Manus.

But Erza Scarlet refused to be cowed. She pushed past the migraine his mere sight induced. Her magical grip on two blades flaked and they were lost in another pit, but she kept rushing forward. One last jump brought her right on collision course with Manus, who observed her cautiously. A moment later he screamed in pain as a dozen ballistic spears hammered into his chest and abdomen. Five failed to slip between the ivory of his outer ribcage and plinked off, but the rest hammered deep into him. She let go and brought out another seven to replace them.

Then Manus blurred and something large hit Erza from the right. She immediately went off-course, slamming into a wall and driving a metres-deep crater into it. Coming to rest, she stared out of the hole in a daze. A flood of liquid darkness came rolling at it.

A second passed, then two. Then clarity returned and Erza expressed Artorias' shield to plug the hole; darkness hit it like a physical force, pushing Erza all the way back to the wall she just kissed before dissipating. Peeking out, she found the weapons she held with magic were strewn around, bent and warped. Only the dagger remained in her hand.

Unfortunately for Manus, Erza had reserves.

Leaping outside, she hit the ground running right toward the looming monster. Another two dozen armaments flashed into existence in a matter of seconds, her reserves already refilling. She could enhance her body, keep up the flow of flashing steel, and hold her protective shell without issue; adrenaline coursed through her veins, heart racing. She loosed another volley of spears, but Manus leapt over it. At first she thought he would be an easy target at this distance, but then she saw his arm. One was short and held a crooked staff of sorts, but the other came down on her. She leapt sideways and was sent into a roll by the shockwave of impact. Clumps of dirt rained down while the ape's monstrous paw retracted on a limb far too long.

Manus roared challenge, only for another bundle of spears to hit him in the back. Erza then sent her swords forward to keep him at range and occupied. Yet without great velocity, they barely scratched his thick hide and went ignored. Manus rampaged toward her, viciously swinging that paw in wide arcs. Telegraphed though it may be, there was such speed and force behind it that Erza had to scramble to evade. She made another two holes in the walls before the monster's tantrum ended.

The next time she climbed out, he retreated and seemed to be channeling. Ethernano welled up above him, turning into a cloud of darkness that somehow stood out even amongst the black abyss. Erza immediately loosed everything into his still form to no reaction. Manus growled lowly, glaring at her with enough force to kill lesser men.

When darkness began to rain down, she fled back into the wall she was smashed into before. Malevolent rain slowly whittled away at it, but she was fine. At least until the giant hand grabbed into the hole. With no way to dodge, Erza took the only way she had and stabbed with all her strength. A dark line opened along his thumb, oozing black. Then five fingers closed around her and she barely managed to hold onto her dagger.

Erza was pulled out and to the front of Manus' face. He screamed at her with the force of a miniature storm, squeezing Erza with all his might. Despite her considerable strength, she quickly felt her body give under his monstrous power. Her bones would break in a handful of seconds, then her shell, and then the rest of her. Panic worked its way into her battle trance, heart skipping a beat at the realisation she was about to die.

She struggled for a moment, but was for once found lesser. She only had a single arm, Priscilla's dagger halfway sheathed in Manus' palm. At least he would bleed to death from it and the wounds she dealt. That, if nothing else, was consolation for Erza. Time seemed to slow as the end approached.

Then she remembered Natsu. Gray. Lucy. Juvia. Cana, Mirajane, Makarov, Laxus. Her friends. Her guild. Her family. And also, Ciaran. She all but promised she'd come back. She could not let them down. She would not let them down.

Shaking herself, Erza focussed on her magic. Manus glared down at her in vicious glee, waiting for her to pop like an overripe fruit. He failed to see the half dozen spears materialise. A mental push sent them flying. All were on-point.

The beast howled, letting go of Erza to scratch at his face; six of his many eyes were now blinded. She landed painfully on her hip and scrambled to take distance. Her armour was cracked and broken, covered in speckles of red and black blood. Every fibre of her body ached horribly, having barely escaped its gruesome fate.

Meanwhile, Manus' anger overrode the pain. He bellowed another challenge at her and began to focus a massive amount of Ethernano. Another two dozen spears slammed into his body, piercing the tough hide. Yet even as a living pincushion, he simply kept channeling. Erza felt the magic coalesce and saw it turn into silvery streamers. While she materialised dark-resistent armour and Artorias' shield however, they flowed into him. Her myriad of weapons slowly shook and pushed themselves out, torn flesh regrowing within seconds.

Erza whispered a curse and dashed forward. The battle just became a race against time. More weapons appeared behind her, the stock of spears just about empty. She picked up more along the way; no finesse was needed, just numbers. Three dozen, four, five, six arrayed behind her on the approach. Manus barely even noticed, too puzzled by the persistent wound on his massive paw. Globs of black constantly dripped.

His head snapped up when the sound of rapid footsteps registered, swinging his staff. Erza was too fast, though. She landed on the weapon mid-swing, using it as a springboard. A hail of steel went down on his barely mended body beneath. The force of impact and renewed pain stunned even a titan like him, giving her the split-second she needed to drive her dagger through his forehead with all her might. The blade slid through bone, skin, and flesh like paper.

Time seemed to stop. Manus stood stock still, Erza hanging off of him. He slowly began to shudder and the darkness around her shivered with him. From this close, Erza could see tiny pinpricks within each eye; all those pupils were pointing right at her, quivering.

Then he screamed, shattering the Abyss's unending silence. Erza almost went horizontal from the force, barely holding onto her dagger's hilt. Foreign emotions assaulted her, the primal want for something, the pain of losing it, and unending despair.

Once it ended, Manus began to dissolve. His body collapsed into miasma that dissipated, though Erza faintly felt several lumps of Ethernano flittering away. She had no time to focus on them though, seeing how something remained. Right in front of her floated a woman, pale as death and garbed in fine silks. She began to fall as time resumed, and so did Erza. Only quick thinking and magic saved the lady from a split head on impact with the ground.

Heart beating heavily, Erza stared down at the softly sobbing woman. Holding her in one arm felt awkward, but the stranger did not care in the slightest. She curled up against Erza, crying into her heaving chest.

She tried to speak, but her voice was just about gone. Even after wetting her throat, Erza could do no more than croak: "Are you, ugh, Dusk?"

No response, just more crying. It suited her just fine in this moment; she was exhausted and every part of her body hurt. Erza absently gathered as many of her weapons as she could spot and put them back in storage. The Abyss felt less oppressive now, though it still persisted even after Manus' death. She did not really think about why the leyline core she felt earlier was now gone.

Angling a telekinetically controlled lance, she brought who she assumed to be Dusk of Oolacile into an improvised princess carry and found herself another boulder. Only force of will kept her going.

The ascent was a blur. She faintly remembered emerging in a sweeping arc, thankfully near the colosseum. Ciaran barely managed to turn before Erza landed, set down Dusk, and promptly collapsed for the second time that day.

Waking up in pain again was no better than the first time. Only now it was dawn. First specks of grey illuminated the sky, barely revealing overgrowth around her. A decimated canopy. Light danced beneath, the crackling of a fire she smelled more than saw. Erza did not want to move at all.

Then a bark sounded and something wet touched her cheek. She twitched, which led to a big nose snuffling her face. Sif then proceeded to lick her until she batted at her flank to stop. Satisfied, the wolf settled down by Erza's side; no one else reacted to the spectacle, though. Craning her neck to move as little as possible, she found herself in the sanctuary. Elizabeth was nowhere to be seen, Ciaran leaned against a wall fragment with her chin on her chest, and Dusk sat still while peering into the bonfire. She did not even blink.

But after everything, Erza decided this was a situation for future Erza to handle.

The next time she woke, it was noon. This time everyone noticed when Sif greeted her. Ciaran helped her up and fed her one of Elizabeth's mushrooms, which helped envigorate Erza. She was given water and food. Her allies coaxed Dusk as well, but the princess barely even reacted. Ciaran sighed.

"She hath been insensate ever since. Tis a miracle she retains but a semblance of sanity."

"She was inside Manus," Erza supplied. His name made Dusk flinch, head turning her way for the first time. "I can not imagine what that was like."

The princess stared down, slowly raising dainty fingers to soothe her temples. Both knights waited patiently until she spoke: "Manus recognised myself as His descendant and reached out. He meant no harm, not to me." Her voice remained a monotone, not even recognising she spoke to someone else. "Those fools, scholars they named themselves. They dug up His grave and took His beloved pendant."

Dusk fell silent, giving them all time to digest the news.

"So," Erza ventured slowly, well remembering the all-encompassing sense of loss Manus relayed in his final moments. "All of this, the devastation, everything, for a pendant?"

"Yes. His beloved pendant."

Dusk began rocking back and forth, hugging her knees. As annoyed as Erza may be, she realised venting it at her was not acceptable. She slowly rose on aching feet and hobbled to her side. The brunette accepted a sidehug, nestling against her in search of warmth. "It will be alright," she soothed.

"But will it?" Dusk sighed heavily, a wave of Ethernano on her breath. "I am tainted now, cursed with memory and might of Primeval Man. Oolacile is no more. Although the Abyss recedes as we speak, my people were extinguished. Husks and madmen are all that remains. Princess no more, tarnished, how will it be alright?"

"It will," Erza responded. She held not a single trace of doubt, cradling the erstwhile princess. "It always will, for as long as you live." She thought back to Makarov and her friends. To old man Rob who gave his life so she could live all those years ago. Even trapped in another world, their memory stayed true in her heart. She sought Ciaran's gaze as well, the next part was for everyone present. "If you feel lost now, like there is no path ahead, why not walk alongside mine for a bit? I am not of this world and need to find a way home."

All four women perked up in response. Sif sniffed her curiously, Elizabeth leaned closer from her crack in the wall, Ciaran crossed her arms, and Dusk stared. "Truly?" she queried, "thou wouldst allow a waste of skin by thy side?"

"You are not a waste in any regard."

"That explains it."

Ciaran's sudden comment cut off the budding cycle of denial and reassurance. Princess and knightess alike turned to the living goddess before them. "Thy demeanor and speech, tis like the scholar who came to Anor Londo a few years past. He stepped before Lord Gwyn with similar tale and was welcomed a friend of the realm. He did not linger, so I assume he made it home."

"Ah," Elizabeth made herself heard then. "A similar individual came to Oolacile some two years back. Would his name have been Precht, Dame Ciaran?"

"Indeed."

Erza knew that name. She heard it not too long ago, really. Hades introduced himself by it. She scowled, before pausing. "That does not add up." Seeing she had everyone's attention, she absently squeezed Dusk. "I know the man you speak of, but he was active in my world for many years. He can not have been here at the same time."

For some reason, that drew hearty chuckles from Ciaran and Elizabeth. Dusk was too busy scowling and muttering under her breath, at least until she saw Erza's confused expression. "The flow of time is convoluted," she explained. "Here in Lordran, centuries may pass in a heartbeat. Great heroes phase in and out of various timelines. Thou may suddenly find thyself flung into distant past. Why, before being abducted by Manus I saw glimpses of a decrepit basin guarded by a Hydra, where today Oolacile still remains."

"I see."

Yet another wondrous thing to wrap her head around. Erza decided to pick their brains about it later. For now she offered a faint smile. "That aside, will you help me? Perhaps you could show me Lordran along the way?"

A moment of uncomfortable silence followed. Ciaran stared at the ground while Sif pawed at a bare root. Elizabeth clearly waited for Dusk, who was the first to respond: "I, I would love to. Please allow me to join thy entourage. The least I can do to repay such kindness is to impart the soul arts as Oolacile practices them."

"I believe," the masked knightess spoke afterward, "that this is indeed the least I can do. Do not refute the point," she cut off Erza's retort, "had none ended the threat in its infancy, the Abyss would have swallowed all of Lordran and beyond." The younger knightess nodded, chastised. Ciaran ran a hand over her helmet and sighed. "In truth, I feel drained. My service to Lord Gwyn is at an end. But for thee, I shall make one final effort. However, Sif will not come."

Erza turned to the wolf, who did not meet her gaze. Ciaran responded in her stead: "We spoke earlier and I respect her wish. Before we leave this realm, we shall dig a grave for Artorias. His covenant, Sif wishes to guard from any who would seek it. It improved his resistance to the Abyss, making him able to tread where none of us ever could." Ciaran left a long pause, waiting for Erza to interject. She did not, so her new friend inclined her head. "And she will be in good company. I spoke to Gough as well. He, too, will remain."

"As will I."

Elizabeth's comment had Dusk shoot up, all but leaping out of Erza's embrace. She stuttered at the mushroom, trying to convey that she clearly wanted her godmother along. But she was shushed gently, a spore-laden cap pressed to her forehead. "None of that, my sweet. You are fully grown and mature, old enough to venture forth on thine own feet. I am but a mushroom. Too old for a great journey, at that. Rather, entrust what remains of Oolacile to me. I shall guard it alongside Lady Sif, preserving the memory of our wonderful realm."

Dusk stared at her for a long time, tears welling in her eyes.

Once it became clear neither would speak, Erza slowly worked her way to her aching feet. She squeezed the erstwhile princess's shoulder before addressing everyone: "We have time now, I guess. So let us begin with the grave and figure things out from there."

 

[Naron]

"It is not uncommon for active use of Ethernano to induce physical alterations; the scale ranges from changes in size and colouration to the growth of additional limbs. Particularly demanding disciplines are more likely to carry such changes, while learning magic during or before puberty increases their likelihood again."

-excerpt from "The Heart of Magic"

---

The new year had arrived in her absence, Wendy realised. She knew the season shifted but lost track of time; days blurred together as her need for sleep lessened. Now her bare feet crunched through fresh snow, a white blanket that covered Crocus.

Fiore's capital was as bustling as she remembered. There were more gazes thrown her way, but she did not let that bother her. Confidence, Fairy Tail's Levy once told her, attracted attention. Wendy was confident now, striding with her head held high. Silvery silk rustled around her petite form, an ankle-length dress Quelaan weaved for her protection. Not that it mattered, seeing how she grew almost impervious to heat and cold over the past months. This did not even factor in her shell of Ethernano. At the very least it made most people only glance at her.

She grumbled about the dense crowd impeding progress. Her misgivings were carefully kept from her expression, but annoyance bubbled in her gut ever since she arrived. To make matters worse, months away from civilisation made her forget the avalanche of scents that came with it. They assaulted her sensitive nose wherever she went, revolting and titillating in equal measure. Once it became unbearable on the main street, Wendy took a sharp turn and marched down a back alley.

This was not a major improvement, but it was better. She could bear the trace amounts of alcohol, ammonia, and musk welcoming her. Not that Wendy did not turn up her nose at the indignity, but she had better things to do than complain. When did that ever help resolve anything, anyway?

Her musings were interrupted by a group of three cutting off her path, two thirds down the alley. Wendy slowed to a halt, unimpressed. She heard stories of lowlifes ambushing people like this before, but those were rare occasions. No one wanted to risk accidentally trying to mug or assault a wizard after all. Except those three idiots.

"Thou art not the kind one generally expects to be accosted by," Wendy quipped. For before her stood not burly men, but three young women. Perhaps a few years older than Wendy, a lean and a busty one flanking their scowling leader. This one, she studied a bit more carefully; silver hair framed sharp, almost regal features. Her pants failed to hide wide hips and long legs while a black tank top with skull motif constrained a sizable bust. She wore a heavy, blue winter jacket, but left it open like some kind of gang leader. The intimidation factor was lessened by her cronies being bundled up completely.

"If thou would excuse me."

Without even waiting for what they might want, she made to step between them. The part of her that screamed to purge the infidels grew louder when the leader pushed her back with a mocking laugh. "Seriously, who talks like that? Think you're some kind of noble, huh?" Another push, and once again Wendy held back from punching her through the wall. "And what's this? You think you're a dragon, too?"

She winced when a calloused hand grabbed a fistful of blue hair. The older woman pulled it up, revealing a band of light blue scales. They covered her neck and ran up around her ears, stopping just short of her temples. Wendy slapped the offending hand and scowled back, seething. A growled "Yes" was the only response she could give without starting to berate them.

Apparently, they took her shaking for fear instead of the indignation it was. "Aww," the leader cooed mockingly, "look at her. The big, strong dragon is shaking in her boots. Oh wait, you aren't wearing any! Seriously, how dumb are you?"

In a more calm setting, Wendy may have explained the fact her shoes since fell apart from copious use. As it were, she needed all her mental faculties to hold back on the emerging violence. All three giggling about her did not help.

That was when a thus far neglected sense flared up. Belatedly, Wendy realised the leader also had a shell of active Ethernano. Meaning she was trained and capable of sensing Wendy was a wizard. Which in turn meant she came picking this fight despite the risks; that, or she failed to notice like Wendy herself had. It also meant she could work out some aggression without killing her. Perfect.

The shaking stopped. As did the giggling when Wendy lunged and punched the stranger's face. She went airborne, passing through between her shocked cronies and rolling along the alley. Wendy grinned at them sardonically. "Obviously less dumb than you," she finally answered the earlier question. A quick kick to both of their stomachs sent them down, curling up in pain.

The leader rose, but Wendy did not grant her time or courtesy to get her bearings. She was upon her in an instant, raining down blows and kicks. The woman tried to defend herself but was easily overwhelmed. Maybe it would have been a fight if she took Wendy seriously from the start. She made to grab for something at her belt, only for Wendy to tug that hand away and headbutt her. It barely even hurt, but her opponent's shell finally broke as she stumbled back. Grinning, Wendy punched her in the stomach for good measure. Then she delivered softer punches to the cronies, who since got back to their feet.

Cleaning her hands in some still fresh snow to get whatever filth was on them off, Wendy let go of the remaining anger. She delivered retribution and would not kill them. Or maim them. The part of her that was dragon really did not like being ridiculed.

She was about to leave the bruised trio behind when she realised they were all lying in the cold snow and would get sick. After a moment of indecision, she turned around and placed all three against a wall, shoulder to shoulder. There, that should at least keep them warm until they recovered.

Satisfied, Wendy left to take care of her actual business.

Later that same day, the seething demi-dragon stared out at Crocus from one of its hills. A public platform was erected for tourists and pilgrims to behold Fiore's majesty; at the moment it lay silent except for her. The cold winds that deterred most from a visit lay still and silent in adherence to their mistress.

Muttering quietly about 'stupid humans' in various flavours, Wendy attempted to rein in her raging temper. She was used to people being stupid for one reason or other, but this was a new low. In a way she could even understand it, but it aggravated her to no end.

And then, as if to test Kalameet's claim there was no such thing as karma, a familiar voice disrupted her solitude: "What's got your panties in a twist now?"

She elected not to answer and did not turn around. The sound of footsteps approaching on the wooden platform made her tense up, but no attack came. Rather that same, silver-haired woman from earlier leaned onto the railing next to her. The sight of her prominent black eye sent a satisfied tingle through Wendy.

"Do you truly want to get humiliated again?" she grumbled

"Nah, just curious this time. So you gonna tell me what's up?"

"..."

Wendy studied her for a long moment, temper settling in favour of polite curiousity. Just what drew this one back to her after the beating she received? And what did it matter? Airing her grievances did help in the past, but she had neither Quelaan nor Carla to talk to.

"People are stupid."

Her deadpan drew a snort from the woman. "Heh, fair enough." A pause followed, which she filled herself: "So, mind if I ask a question?"

"Thou art awfully curious for a common bully."

"Bitchy much? It's not like you got your ass handed to you earlier, so relax already."

Wendy scowled, but let the matter rest. That woman may annoy her, but most anything about today did. She spared another glance at her curvy form, most of it hidden by that thick jacket. How did she find her anyway? "For my peace of mind, did you follow me?"

"Hm? Nah, I just saw you up here by chance." A snort followed. "And suddenly you can talk normally?"

"It is a chore to accomodate fools," Wendy retorted. Justifying her way of speech was at least familiar territory. "You are at least courteous enough to warrant the effort."

"Heh. Thanks, I guess." The older woman let the silence run its course before speaking up again: "Okay, so, what's with those scales? Why do you have them?" She idly waved for Wendy, whose gaze turned back to her.

The demi-dragon needed a moment to formulate a response and a moment longer to not speak to her like a child. "...they are mine. I need neither reason nor justification, for these scales are a mark of who I am."

"So either you're a roleplayer, or you mean it." Her dismissive comment made Wendy twitch in annoyance. The still air grew heavy in response, but her new acquaintance merely rolled her eyes. "Heavens above, you're a piece of work. So just to make sure, this has nothing to with Fairy Tail's guild master, right?"

Curiousity overcame annoyance almost instantly. "No. Why would it?"

Her response began with a sigh and a faint smile. "Have you been living under a rock the last months? She was featured everywhere for a while. Like, I see at least ten people with fake scales pretending they're half-dragons like her every day."

Suddenly, Wendy found another reason to be mad. She exhaled slowly, willing the air calm before it began to crush the weird girl. Do not shoot the messenger and all that. "Of all the things," she muttered. "Is this why you attempted to torment me?"

She shrugged. "Yeah, pretty much. I'm so done with seeing that shit everywhere."

"Perhaps you would do better confirming whether your target is an imposter before accosting them."

Another shrug was all the answer she received. Somehow, this odd person was not even acknowledging her black eye or the fact they were at each other's throats earlier. It somehow reminded her of Natsu, now that she thought about it. Sighing, Wendy changed the subject: "I am Wendy, what is your name?"

"Yukino, nice to meetcha." A grin was thrown Wendy's way, Yukino's gaze trailing over her neck. "So they're real?"

The demi-dragon arched an eyebrow and parted her hair. It ran down to her thighs at this point, kept eternally pristine by her nature. Yukino leaned in to study the revealed band of scales and Wendy let her. A part of her wanted to shy away from a pretty woman being this close, but it was in the minority.

"Now that I see them up close, they're pretty cute." The verdict made Wendy preen, but what followed gave her pause: "Can I touch them?"

Her eyes narrowed momentarily, but Yukino could not really see it from this close. Wendy managed to ignore the faint hint of flowery perfume that assaulted her nose as well. Assorted smells, she disregarded also. This woman really tested her patience today. But then again, she was courteous so far. "Very well."

Warm fingers trailed over her scales a moment later. The soft strokes made her relax, leaning into Yukino's touch. The older woman chuckled. "You like that, eh?"

"Shut up, they are sensitive and I had a long day."

Her grumbling earned another huff, but Yukino kept her fingers dancing. "Want to talk about it."

Wendy shrugged weakly, almost dislodging the pleasant fingers. She wanted to rant about human stupidity quite badly, but talking about it would only annoy her again. Then again, the not-quite massage she currently received dispersed her discomfort. Why not indulge Yukino, as long as she kept going?

"I bought land to build a home near Crocus. This at least went well, but the person from the bureau made everything else difficult." She scowled again at the memory. "Is it so unreasonable to expect humans to actually tell a real dragon from a fake one?"

"Real dragons have four legs and wings," Yukino countered, "and are pretty much extinct." The reminder of Grandine's absence drew a low growl, but she cut it off moments later.

"I was not done yet. But no, dragons are not extinct. Almost, but not entirely. I know because I currently live with one and we will relocate to the space I bought. That man did not believe me, no matter how I tried to explain that an actual dragon will come here peacefully. At this point it is no longer my concern if a panic breaks out."

"Ah. So they didn't take you seriously?"

Wendy nodded against Yukino's hands, then pulled away to scowl at Crocus again. Both for stupid clerks and the absence of gentle scritches. This time it was a more reflexive response though, she managed to calm down. "You are good with your fingers."

A moment of silence hung between them before Yukino huffed. "I guess? Say, if you just bought land, you're not from here, right?" Wendy nodded. "Where are you staying?"

She was about to respond when she realised why Yukino asked: dusk approached. Staying in the snowy cold at night was not advisable for most; Wendy could bear it, but wasting away all these hours until the capital woke again would be miserable. "I, admittedly, did not have time to look into accomodations yet."

The thought did not even cross her mind after all this time in the wilderness.

"How about you come stay at my place tonight?"

The sudden offer drew her gaze back to Yukino. She sniffed again just to make sure she got the right idea and yes, Yukino did not mean anything else by it. Her lack of response was taken for confusion and the older woman threw her a reassuring smile. "It's just my sister and me, it'll be fine. We can call it even after today."

A peace offering then. Wendy did not think one was needed, but she would not refuse hospitality. "Very well. Thank you."

"It's cool. Come on then."

She followed Yukino without hesitation. The evening crowds were less dense, allowing them to move quickly; Wendy made certain to walk by her side instead of trundling after her, lest she be distracted.

As it turned out, her new friend lived in a small house in the outskirts. Yukino threw open the door and waltzed inside, leaving Wendy behind to will her feet clean before entering. The scent of sizzling beef wafted from one room in particular; it made her mouth water despite the fact she did not need much food anymore. Shaking off the moment of weakness, she closed the door and listened what Yukino told her sister in the kitchen. A quick summary of having 'met' someone new who needed a place to stay the night. She smirked over the creative editing.

"What am I going to do with you?" another voice answered with fond exasperation. Yukino squawked indignantly for some reason. "But alright. Now let's see who you..." The voice trailed off just as Angel's head poked through the doorframe. Wendy blinked at her, equally surprised. She did not really know how to greet her, either.

"What is it?" Yukino chimed in, pushing open the door to look between them. Their unintentional staring contest was broken and Angel began to chuckle.

"Oh well, what a surprise. Hello, Wendy."

"Angel. I can not say it is a pleasure, but hello."

"Hah, surprisingly blunt from what I remember of you. But yeah, I get it." Ignoring her befuddled sibling, she motioned Wendy into the kitchen. "And it's Solano now, no more Angel."

"Very well."

While she strolled past them, Yukino finally found her voice: "You know each other?"

"Yes-" "Unfortunately." "-pff, okay, that's fair." Despite Wendy's quip, Solano explained to her sister: "Remember the little group that did us in a few months back? I know I told you about it. Wendy was one of them. She's a Dragonslayer. And, now that I know it was her, I can guess who gave you that black eye. You need to come up with better lies, by the way."

Wendy snorted, unaffected by Yukino's instinctual glare. Now she remembered that there was something about a sister. The memory was far more crisp now that she was reminded. Everything was since her metamorphosis began.

Thankfully, the conversation turned to lighter subjects afterward; Yukino interrogated her about what magic she knew, then they discussed recent events in Crocus and how Solano's classes were going. But it was getting late and everyone had a long day, so both teens were soon ushered to bed.

She did not begrudge Solano's lack of understanding. In fact, her care reminded the blunette of Quelaan. That was why instead of arguing, she merely took the offered couch and sat awake half the night. Her needs were not diminished to the point she could go entirely without sleep yet, but more than enough to spend hours in thought. Yukino traipsed by for the bathroom at some point; Wendy idly noted her new friend slept in her undergarments, but refrained from commenting.

The next morning, she was actually woken up by Yukino. Instead of leaving her alone however, she obviously had to develop a helpful streak. Sharing the table with her and Solano a second time was... pleasant, all things considered. Yukino called for Aries to join them as well; the ram was overjoyed to see Wendy again, lightening the mood all by herself.

"So I was thinking," Solano cut through the amicable chatter after a while. "Yukino just started out as a freelancer." She had the table's undivided attention. "Any chance you would team up with her?"

Wendy swallowed her immediate dismissal with the bite of sandwich she had been chewing. She did not need a newcomer to baby. Yukino did not appear overly competent, but anyone could be trained up to standard; she herself was living proof of that. A lack of talent could be made up by hard work and practice. And, she mused with a glance at Solano, there was a precedent in the older sister.

Not to mention, she did want to make more friends. That settled it.

"I do not see why not. If you want to?"

"Sure, as long as you don't try to boss me around?"

"Only if I find you incapable of making sound decisions."

"Fuck you."

Wendy snorted, as did Solano. Yukino's emerging pout only drew actual giggles out of them. Wendy transitioned into a dry cough, though. It took a moment to settle and her throat was dry afterward. Breathing grew more difficult by the day again, it seemed. She was only gone for a bit over a week.

Heaving a sigh, she waved off the concern. "Tis alright, I will be fine. For now though, I have to head out and inspect my acquisition, then call everyone over."

She well noticed the suspicious look Solano threw her way. Maybe that was why she did not object Yukino tagging along with her new partner. She could not come herself, what with classes demanding her attention. Either way, the younger Agria trailed after Wendy all the way out of Crocus.

It was all she had been promised, but nothing more. Decently sized, mostly even ground. Currently it was merely a meadow with some trees. Wendy made certain to double-check the borders against a map she had been given. She absently took notice of a number of houses strewn across the countryside, most of them farmsteads. She was not the only one who decided on settling outside of the walls.

Once she found all to her satisfaction, Wendy turned north and focussed on distant skies. Her will was indomitable and none could oppose it. So she willed her message to be relayed.

A minute passed, then two.

"What are you doing?"

"Calling them. Now let me focus."

Yukino huffed and strutted away, but she kept quiet. Wendy's brow creased, perspiration slowly gathering on her skin. She did not even move, but her body shook under the strain of bending reality into a pretzel. I am here, she called into the ether, come to me, my swarm!

And they came. Her sharp eyes spied a dot in the distance and she relaxed. Now that she knew her call was heard, she merely had to wait for them and dry her sweat. She never realised that her clumsy call for the Everlasting left a very confused Priscilla in her office that day.

The first to arrive was Carla, though. Her surrogate daughter swooped in on wings of white, slamming into Wendy's chest. "At last!" she declared from within her embrace, "tis about time. Quelaan began to worry!"

"I'm... preeeetty sure that's no dragon," Yukino quipped from the side.

Wendy threw her a look and pointed upward. Just as she did, screaming started back on Crocus' walls. The black dragon Kalameet was clearly visible now, descending at speed. His surprisingly prehensile front legs were holding Quelaan of Izalith; neither of them seemed at all happy with this arrangement, but it worked and so they compromised. Yukino stared in awe as the dragon landed with inhuman grace, floating to a stop without so much as a disturbed blade of grass. He set down the spider lady before surveying their new domain. Quelaan immediately scuttled away to do similarly.

"You were saying?"

"..."

Yukino still stared at the living legend in front of her. Kalameet for his part ignored the human girl. "Tis... acceptable," he judged. The audible pause made it clear he mainly agreed to accomodate Wendy, but she appreciated it regardless. Then his head rose and he tensed; when the younger dragon turned to look at Crocus also, she found an entire detachment of Rune Knights and regular knights marching their way.

"Allow me," she requested of Kalameet, who nodded tersely. Yukino received a soft shove to snap her out of the awestruck silence, trailing along. Wendy heard her muttered "whoa", but did not comment.

No, she used all her words to engage the knight captain coming to investigate a dragon arriving out of nowhere. She identified herself as the owner of this particular plot, provided her papers, and explained that she tried to inform the authorities, only to be brushed off. Thankfully, these people were reasonable and listened instead of doing something they would regret. The man in charge of the Rune Knights inquired to the name of whoever she spoke to, which Wendy provided. They left soon after, only a handful of observers staying behind to ensure Kalameet remained peaceful. He did not even acknowledge them.

At this point Yukino recovered from what transpired. "Sounds like someone will lose their job," she quipped. Wendy shrugged.

"And what do I care?"

"You ought to, my sweet," Quelaan chimed in immediately. She loomed over the two of them, making Yukino flinch away in surprise. "Caring for one another is a virtue. Where would we be if not for the bonds compassion forges?"

She had some choice words about that clerk affording her none of that to begin with, but swallowed them. Quelaan was not wrong. Instead, the young woman inclined her head and dropped the subject. She was immediately drawn into a recounting of her journey by Carla while Yukino awkwardly spoke with the Chaos witch. It was commendable that she tried despite her clear alienation.

"This is so weird," she muttered to Wendy some time later. One hand flew out, motioning for their odd swarm. "How did you find all these oddballs? And a dragon on top of it?"

"Rude," Carla sniffed. Wendy absently rubbed her head to keep her appeased.

"Quelaan was my caretaker since I was a child, Carla's egg I hatched myself, and Kalameet is a... recent addition."

"I see." Yukino kept whatever else she meant to say to herself. Her gaze swept the area again, paused, and returned to Wendy. "But you kinda don't have anywhere to stay. I'd offer our couch, but we don't really have the space for, uh, that." Another motion toward the massive forms of Quelaan and Kalameet.

Instead of considering her offer, Wendy scoffed. She stalked off with a confused Yukino in tow. Once she found a good spot, the blunette began to focus again. Shaping earth she could see directly was a lot easier than sending a call into the distance, but she also practiced this before. The ground welled up, compressing into walls and stretching into a roof. When it was done, Wendy grumbled quietly to herself.

"That's... something? I didn't know you can do earth magic."

"I don't."

They surveyed the humble abode Wendy created. The kindest terms to describe the partly warped structure was that it had four walls and appeared steady. It was also the size of a single room. She never tried for something this big before and was sweating.

"Below par, but still acceptable," Kalameet rumbled. Wendy felt his will take hold and flatten the ground, then raise a small mansion without any effort. "Behold what thee aspire toward. Again." And he flattened the entire thing, much to Wendy's annoyance. No free room for her.

"Well, so much for the couch."

She really did not need those quips. Even though Yukino seemed dumbfounded again, Wendy threw her a dry look. "If you wish to share my bed, you need but ask."

"Wha- could you not?"

The sight of a flustered woman pleased Wendy once again. She impulsively winked. "I can stop, assuming you want me to?"

"Yes, please."

"Very well, but the offer stands."

She left it at that, well aware she could find company elsewhere. However, she already knew Yukino a little and was certainly curious of the new experience. Not to mention Crocus was large and seeking mates too aggresively would tarnish her reputation. Even as a dragon, she remembered to keep that in mind.

Meanwhile, Quelaan chuckled quietly over their banter. Carla wound out of Wendy's arms to pout at Kalameet. "Tis a travesty! Thine influence turned my Wendy into a harlot."

"Tis her prerogative," the dragon huffed back. Wendy appreciated his indifference to the matter and went back to work on her living arrangements.

Yukino stayed by her side, quietly observing. Despite her focus, Wendy could almost feel the other woman's gaze scanning her toned body. She may lack supple curves like Yukino displayed, but hers were still present. Not to mention that field work had left her fit. At some point, the white-haired woman sighed, rubbing her legs together. "We talk about it again once we know each other better, okay?"

Wendy just huffed, smirking to herself. She may not be able to read Yukino's thoughts, but her keen sense of smell revealed quite clearly that the older woman's mind was in the gutter. But she would not press for now. Patience was a virtue, not to mention that she felt the allure of a prize that took time and effort to claim.

As she resolved to bide her time, Wendy found once again that her metamorphosis had at least one complete positive to it: her previous confidence issues were gone, well and truly. The old her never would have been able to pursue romantic interests so clearly, much less carnal ones. But those were thoughts for later, now she had to build a house for herself.

 

[Naron]

"Hair magic, while unorthodox and somewhat restricted, offers benefits of its own. Being able to manipulate one's body hair at will offers any number of additional limbs, which is helpful in close combat and civilian applications. However, unless the learning wizard combines this discipline with another trick or finds telekinesis too difficult, I would recommend the latter over hair magic. Another factor to consider is that the versatility of this discipline is the length of one's hair. Magically growing one's hair out for use is NOT recommended, as it can quickly deprive the body of nutrients. If substituting Ethernano, the practice will cause balding once no longer maintained."

-excerpt from "The Soul of Magic"

---

When news of Wendy Marvell's return reached Priscilla, she felt ecstatic and relieved at first. Then she became apprehensive; the final natural Dragonslayer's reemergence meant she was well. After hearing of Tenrou Island's destruction from Precht and subsequently that Wendy fell ill from Master Bob, she feared the worst. Moreover, she realised she put off revealing their duty for too long; Natsu and Gajeel paid the price for her negligence, so Priscilla had vowed to tell at least Wendy the truth posthaste.

It had been two weeks since the final Dragonslayer's return to Crocus when Priscilla heard. Although she wanted to drop everything and go, the guild master was expected to remain near their guildhall. Dragon or no, she did not need more complications in her work; even if it was unlikely anyone would raise the issue with her. So Priscilla hoped for the best and spent a week preparing; all the paperwork was finished, not that there was as much while most of the troublemakers were absent. Next she invited Warrod to hold down the fort in her absence. He agreed without hesitation, most likely to see moody Mavis.

These days, Mavis spent most of her time in the guildhall due to her pregnancy. Her mood shifted from cheerful to depressed to upset in minutes, but she always perked up when Warrod or Precht visited. She and Priscilla thankfully managed to sort themselves out, though absolution for the dragon remained a distant dream.

When the current master approached the founder, she had her nose buried in the usual books. Just like Priscilla before her, Mavis read Zeref's work religiously. She learned from it at impressive speed, perhaps drew the same comfort as well. Priscilla could only hope so. She almost did not want to interrupt, but someone had to know where she went. Mystogan lingered nearby as well, offering a faint nod when she approached him first. After that, Mavis received a gentle hug goodbye. She even returned it, trying and failing to wrap lithe arms around Priscilla's massive form.

Afterward, the dragon teleported to Crocus. Of all the magic she learned, this may be the most useful yet. The range limits constraining humans did not apply, though she still required an idea of what her destination looked like. Or how far away it was. Meredy had a lot more trouble with it, though; the pinkette studied alongside Priscilla. She was still a beginner.

Due to it being mid-February, a blanket of snow still covered the capital that day. It crunched under her bare feet as she strode through the streets, exchanging greetings with various people. Yet Priscilla did not stop for any of them, least of all the many teens wearing fake scales. In fact, their garbled attempts to emulate her own speech patterns annoyed the dragon. She barely stopped herself from lashing out at them; idolising a greater being was only natural, so she stayed her hand. Even if badly crafted facsimiles and flaking paint irritated her.

Soon she left the city gates, following the road for a short while. With the exact location memorised, finding the plot was simple. Wendy did well procuring land with her compensation for the Oracion Seis job, she mused; it was a foundation for the future. Decently sized, sporting a small hill she felt was not there before. A makeshift fence of wooden stakes connected by strands of silk declared the Dragonslayer's domain.

Priscilla simply raised her legs higher and cleared the marker without a second thought. Her mind was on more immediate concerns, such as the Chaos witch she would likely meet today. Primal anger flared, only to be pushed back. She would be curteous for Wendy's sake. Hopefully, Quelaan of Izalith would be as well. For Wendy's sake.

Although she was resolute, the wrath gnawed at her insides every step of the way. It only went forgotten when Priscilla recognised a strange quality to the area. Beside the humble and somewhat misbuilt stone abode crowning the hill, everything around her brimmed with the presence of eternity. It laced the air and permeated the earth totally. A sense of foreboding, perhaps. Lesser beings would feel none of it, merely the instinctual desire to flee. To her, it signified the presence of kin.

Priscilla stopped, amazed at the impossibility. Barring Ankhseram, Everlasting dragons were not supposed to live in this realm. She almost dashed forward to see who may have found their way here, but forced herself back to a normal pace. At the same time, she pushed her will against the other's presence to make hers known. The clash was minor. Snow melted, grass dried and died before growing back. A handful of critters searching for food fled in mortal terror. Then the other acquiesced her announcement and it ended.

Before she reached the house, its door flew open to reveal Wendy herself. She stared up at Priscilla in surprise, who was just as shocked at the sight of her. Wendy changed since last they met. Her aquamarine scales were a dead giveaway, genuine for once. But aside from the physical alteration, the once human girl's presence had grown stronger. Priscilla felt it now where the other presence hid it before. Not quite kin, but close.

But that was for later. Priscilla put on a smile and knelt to greet Wendy. "Word of thy return reached Magnolia. I wished to welcome thee back personally. It seems a great deal has happened to thee in the interim."

Her words allowed Wendy to move past her own surprise. She returned the offered smile and curtsied. "I welcome thee to mine humble home, Master Priscilla. And I greatly appreciate the gesture." She paused there and glanced back; the place she just left was clearly not big enough to accomodate someone about four times her size. "I, err, would invite thee inside, but that may be a mite difficult."

"Tis quite alright," Priscilla responded easily. She burned with curiousity, but stalling further on her self-imposed duty was unacceptable. "Although I wished to speak with you of a matter most important."

Curiously, Wendy dragged her feet in response. She did not meet Priscilla's eyes either, glancing to the side. "Yes, well, I believe I can guess the subject matter."

"Truly?" she could not help but ask. With how unlikely anyone was to guess Zeref's plan, she felt there was something else concerning her at play. Wendy nodded.

"I believe so. Prithee, yonder."

Wendy strode forward to where she was looking before. Priscilla matched her pace and followed the blunette. They crested the hill, only to find a cave's mouth in it. More than large enough to fit even the crossbreed, leading into an actual cavern. The lingering eternity was stronger here and Priscilla's eyes immediately homed in on its origin: a black dragon, studying her with the same kind of interest but far greater intensity.

For one insane moment, Priscilla felt the urge to shy away from his scrutiny. The first Everlasting dragon she ever met beside the kinslayer. Then her nature reasserted itself and she firmed up, standing proud. All the rest were forgotten in favour of him.

"Kalameet," she offered in greeting.

"Indeed," he confirmed needlessly. His voice was even, carrying a hint of curiousity: "Who art thou?"

"I am Priscilla, the Everlasting."

Her claim drew a soft hiss from his throat. She thought she heard at least one gasp as well, but ignored their lessers. Kalameet evaluated her once again. Seconds passed as his will prodded at her and she pushed right back. There was no mistaking their nature, never.

In the end he inclined his head.

"Thou art kin."

Validation lifted an incredible weight from her shoulders. One she carried all her life yet never quite acknowledged. The only one who ever called her kin was the one she never wanted to be associated with. Tension bled out of her body, the only visible sign of Priscilla's relief. She inclined her head in greeting. "Any further conversation will have to wait, as I arrived to speak with Wendy first and foremost. To meet kin is a pleasant surprise."

Now that she stopped to focus exclusively on Kalameet, Priscilla finally took notice of the malformed spider-woman standing on a bed of silk. She held her silence for now, unseeing eyes pointed straight at the crossbreed. Even then, Quelaan of Izalith was clearly noticeable. She had to ask later why Kalameet did not purge her yet.

"Pardon," Wendy interjected politely, "but was this not what you wished to consult about?"

"Not quite."

Priscilla allowed herself a heavy sigh and offered the witch a faint nod. She ought to at least acknowledge her. Quelaan nodded back and kept her silence. When the crossbreed settled on the silken ground, Wendy sat down in front of her, back straight. Then Priscilla began to explain.

"There is no easy way to convey this, so I shall be blunt: thou were raised as a weapon." Wendy's eyes narrowed and the witch shifted, but Priscilla gave neither a chance to interject. "Art thou aware of the last living dragon born here on Earthland?" This time she received a confused tilt of the head.

"How dost thou mean, the last? Several yet remain, somewhere."

"I am afraid not," she shot down the misconception. Wendy growled, her presence pressing down on Priscilla. She weathered it easily. When the blunette continued to annoy her, she forced the area under her control. A whipcrack of air sounded and the child fell back with a squeak, rubbing her forehead. "Do not presume to threaten me," Priscilla commented. Kalameet huffed at that while Wendy grumbled.

"No matter. Thou were raised by Grandine, Queen of the Sky Dragons. Just like Natsu rose under King Igneel and Gajeel under King Metalicana. Dragon royalty gave thee all that was needed to destroy their greatest foe. They art no more. Gone, one and all. Fallen to a kinslayer."

The pressure that followed on the final word came not from Wendy. No, it exuded from Kalameet. Priscilla nodded at him. "Much like our own, except his power grew with the dragons he slew. Just about immune to all local magic, Dragonslayers are the only ones to affect him in this matter. None remained after his genocide. The lingering spirits of those he slew refused to disperse and picked successors to one day bring him low."

Wendy ground her teeth. Her power lashed outward, tearing deep furrows into the earthen ground. Priscilla snatched Carla out of the air to protect her from the outburst while Quelaan scooted closer. The witch gently grasped Wendy to comfort her. From her embrace, the child glared at Priscilla. "How did I not know? Why did Grandine never say? This is slander, she never would have made me a weapon!"

"And where is her spirit now?" Kalameet added with a smattering of curiousity. Priscilla sighed once more. "How has it weathered centuries without losing coherence?"

"Such is the other matter to be explained. Wendy, thou were born four hundred years past. During the age of dragons. The same goes for your fellow Dragonslayers. All three of you were sent forward in time, to a new age with enough Ethernano to sustain you. The kings and queen gave the last of themselves to power the device. This is why thou will never find them. They art no more, well and truly. Thou were never abandoned, of this I can assure thee."

Another wave of raw violence followed. Wendy had begun to cry. Priscilla fell silent, giving the poor girl time to process.

"Tis an impressive undertaking indeed," Quelaan broke the ensuing silence gently. She stroked Wendy's hair but kept meeting Priscilla's gaze. "These other Dragonslayers, were they aware?"

"No."

Her immediate response garnered Wendy's attention once more. Priscilla could not help but grimace. "For the longest time, I hoped they would never need to know. That by investigation and perhaps luck, I could find this kinslayer and deal with him. Alas, he found them first." She shook her head at the dawning horror. "They art not dead, merely lost. He descended on Tenrou Island during the S-rank trials a few months back. A friend managed to hide them in time before he could destroy them. This made me realise it is too dangerous for thee not to know. My apologies for waiting too long."

The demi-dragon had slumped in Quelaan's arms. She hung limply for a long moment, then began to wiggle. "I need some fresh air," she murmured and was let go. When Carla fluttered over to follow her surrogate mother and friend, Wendy pushed her away. "Alone, please."

Her blank tone hurt more than any amount of vitriol ever could have. Priscilla watched her go with a grimace. Now she was confronted with Quelaan and Kalameet. The dragon growled something unintelligible, likely related to their shared hatred of kinslayers. The witch frowned as well. "Was this truly necessary?" she inquired. Priscilla simply nodded.

"These lesser dragons' resourcefulness is to be commended," Kalameet commented next. Some of his scales scraped the wall he sat against, then he prowled forward. "But enough of that. Thou intrigue me, Priscilla. Kin indeed, yet artificial. A crossbreed without doubt. Why art thou and by whose hand?"

Folding both hands in her lap, Priscilla answered curtly: "The kinslayer created me, but for what purpose I know not." Her words earned a growl at the additional reminder, but he let the point stand. Hence why the crossbreed continued: "I never asked and he never said in the short time we remained close. My survivial is a miracle in itself, being born in Anor Londo as I was. Recently, I began to assume it must have been his design that kept my life spared and exile all I faced."

"Fascinating."

Kalameet stalked close, eldritch orange emanating from his forehead. "What reason would he have for such designs, I wonder?" She already knew what the black dragon was about to do. Priscilla sat still and allowed him to rise above her. She was not intimidated, merely apprehensive to finally receive an answer.

As the light enveloped her, a faint itch developed along her entire body. It ran deeper than just the skin, affecting flesh and bone, then even her soul. Kalameet carefully poked and prodded every fibre of her being, inspected all facets of she who was Priscilla. After some time she began to smell something like reverence on his breath.

Then the light cut off and he fell back onto his haunches. Raucuous laughter shook the cave, confusing the three women still present.

"What dost thou see?" Quelaan queried once he calmed down. Kalameet huffed once more, one paw motioning for Priscilla.

"I beheld perfection carved into life."

His reverent tone gave them pause and he chuckled again. His primal gaze flickered once more, raking over Priscilla with utmost gentleness. "I see now, I see." He did not elaborate for a long minute. When he did, the crossbreed hissed in surprise: "Seath never truly turned against us. No, if anything, he saw what we as a whole were too conceited to understand. He was willing to risk everything, forsake even his own name, for the survival of our race."

"Thou would grant a kinslayer his name?"

Priscilla was more confused than angry. She did not understand what Kalameet saw just yet. He understood it too, inclining his head. "Indeed I would. This once he deserves to be called by name again. For he created thee, forged thee from the powdered scales of every Everlasting dragon bar seven that yet lived or were lost. From Ankhseram to Tespaar, all as one. Their scales are thy scales. His flesh forged thy flesh. And a spark of Gwyn's own soul breathed life into thee, creating equilibrium where none should be possible. Thou art beautiful in structure, harmoniously combining our nature with a soul born of the First Flame.

"Seath did that which none of us could: he induced evolution in a race that deemed itself perfected since the beginning of all. Thou art a greater being still and within thee, we keep on living forevermore. Thou art our evolution and our revenge upon the gods that broke our wings."

Priscilla stared at him. She was faintly aware that no one knew how to react to his revelation. All this time she had no idea what she truly was. There were suspicions, true, but she could never confirm any of them. Her creator's, Seath's, motives suddenly appeared far different than she ever assumed. The final words he ever told her returned unbidden: "Thou art too valuable to fall as all the rest have. I have no regrets."

That was why he learned to manipulate Gwyn's court. The only reason he put himself into its midst. To keep his work well-protected when she inevitably fell to the urges he saw fell his entire race. Realisation made Priscilla feel faint. A giant plot, carefully laid out and brought to fruition right under Gwyn's own nose.

A giggle sounded through the cave. Soon it grew until full-blown laughter rumbled from Priscilla's throat. She laughed for the hilarity of it all, this giant chess game she was the unwitting King piece of. "I see now!" she brought out between fits, looking firmly at Kalameet. "What fool I was, to never consider. Even after centuries I never realised. Perhaps we were wrong indeed, to judge Seath as we did."

The black dragon huffed. Dirt rained down on the entire area as Priscilla's unbound nature shook the earth.

"Would this make thee queen of the dragons, then?"

Her laughter cut off abruptly and both dragons stared at Quelaan of Izalith, whose expression was decidedly mixed. Kalameet scoffed, as did Priscilla; she took to explain to the witch: "Ludicrous. There art no hierarchies amongst kin. Prithee remember that."

While part-dragon and part-spider finally became acquainted, Wendy had fled into the countryside to cry. Once her tears ran dry, she left her hiding spot. A deep depression formed in the earth, a sinkhole waiting to snatch up unfortunate travelers. For the first time since her body was eternally locked in its last throes of puberty, her libido held absolutely no hold. She climbed a lone rock and vacantly stared at the sky. Nothing made sense anymore where she felt she finally understood the world a mere hour ago.

Her breathing evened out before growing shallow. Thoughts slowly ground to a halt as minutes passed. Then an hour. Wendy barely realised the passing of time until a soft voice called out to her: "Um, are you alright?"

She flinched out of her trance. Anger rushed up first to fill the void and she snapped back while still turning: "Do I look alright?!"

The young woman who approached her shied away. She was taller than Wendy, with long, fire red hair and supple curves. The spark of lust that followed her observation only fueled her anger right now. "Go away!"

The redhead's shoulders slumped and she left dejectedly; a muttered apology barely reached Wendy's ears. She grimaced and stamped out the flame of anger in her heart. A part of her wanted to disregard the hurt of a lesser being, but she mercilessly crushed its voice.

"Wait!"

The woman stopped, glancing back worriedly. Wendy could not meet her eyes. "I am terribly sorry. I should not have snapped at you. Please come back?"

She expected to be rejected. Much to her relief, she was not. The curvy redhead approached timidly, as if expecting another tongue-lashing. Wendy took notice of her brown tunic and travel pack. She was not dressed to impress, but her body still managed. Wendy took a deep breath to banish these thoughts, not that it helped.

She patted the rock she sat on in silent invitation. The woman sat down without any more prompting, studying Wendy curiously. "It, it is alright," she murmured. When Wendy merely averted her gaze again, though this time so as to not stare, she continued: "Do you want to talk about it?" A headshake was all the blunette could give. "Then, um, do you want a hug? Eep!"

The offer was barely complete when Wendy leapt into her arms. She was warm, almost unnaturally so. Even though she held on gingerly, Wendy nuzzled against her. The sheer comfort almost drew more tears out, but mostly it helped her relax. Dexterous fingers began to pet her head. That, too, she was grateful for. She would not be alright for a while, not with the news of Grandine's passing. But it helped.

"Thank you."

The murmured thanks earned her a tighter squeeze. Which was when she noticed how tense the redhead seemed to be. She nuzzled against her a while longer before inquiring about it: "Why are you so skittish?"

As if on cue, the other woman began to fidget. Wendy could feel it clearly, being this close to her. "Ah, well," she stuttered, "this, erm, this is the first time I ever hugged anyone. Everyone at home is so much bigger than me, erm. Am I doing it right?"

Wendy's emotional state turned on its head with those words. She quietly worked her way out of the embrace, confusing the redhead. She seemed dejected again, at least until she was dragged against Wendy's chest in return. "You did good," she reassured her. "Thank you, truly."

"O-Oh. This is nice."

She hummed in agreement, playing with those hot braids in response. Literally hot, in this case. "It is, is it not?" After some time spent luxuriating in the warmth, she carried on: "May I have your name?"

"Ah, yes. I am Flare. And you?"

"Wendy. A pleasure."

Their halting conversation soon revealed that the aptly named Flare only just arrived in Fiore. She traveled far, but would not say why this kingdom of all places was her destination beyond wanting to learn magic. In the end Wendy invited her over, much like Yukino did for her a few weeks back.

In the meantime, Priscilla mulled over the story Quelaan and Kalameet finished telling. Now that she knew the secret of Nirvana and Wendy's shifting nature, everything became more clear. She had to push back the urge to see that new archtree for herself, though. "How peculiar," was her final verdict. Quelaan huffed in response, but did not contradict her.

Just then, an unfamiliar voice interrupted them: "Hellooooo? Anyone here? Anyone know where Wendy is?"

Her head turned to the cave's mouth, where a somewhat familiar person came into view. It took her a few seconds to place the face, being so similar to Solano Agria. The newcomer was younger, though.

"Be welcome, Yukino," Quelaan greeted her kindly, which answered that question. She held her attention as well. "But I am afraid now is not a good time. Wendy requested some time to herself."

Yukino entered fully, but kept a clear distance from Kalameet. "Why's that? Did something happen?" Then her eyes fell on the other woman present, hidden in the half-dark. "Wait. Master Priscilla?"

"The one," she confirmed with a faint smile over Yukino's gaping. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ms. Agria." She was fully aware that 'Fairy Tail's guild master knows my name' would throw the poor thing off even more. At this point however, she fully understood why Makarov and Warrod liked to mess with people so much.

While Yukino still delivered her best impression of a fish, Quelaan's head turned back to the entrance. "Welcome back," she greeted before anyone could even see the next arrival. "Who is your friend?"

Wendy entered moments later, but she was not alone. Another, taller woman followed in her wake, gleaming hair spending light. The sight of Quelaan created not revulsion, but outright curiousity. Kalameet, then, produced awe. Yukino was distracted also, giving Priscilla the moment she needed to recognise this one. Her mood rose immediately.

"Oh my, Flare! How fortunate we meet again!"

This time she was genuinely happy. It had been more than a year since her trip to Sun Village. Flare's head swivelled Priscilla's way and she brightened. Quite literally so, her hair set itself ablaze. "Friend Priscilla!" she greeted joyfully, charging forward until she stood in front of her. "Oh, this is so wonderful! I was hoping to see you, but not this soon. I only just arrived!" She almost bounced in place, much to the giantess' amusement. Then she drew both hands to her chest. "Oh, you have to see this! I did it!" And then the humour faded in favour of surprise. Flare drew living flame out of her bosom, flaring and flickering in sync with her heartbeat.

The entire room stopped to behold the sight. Flare presented her soul proudly, its heat driving away the vestiges of Winter that made it inside. It lit up the entire cave. Kalameet shuffled in place and Priscilla felt a similar irritation. But her soul was too small to belong to a Lord. Vibrant, yes. Fire, yes. But not divine.

"Congratulations," she praised the beaming redhead. "Were it not for Wendy here, I would not have believed this a possible skill to learn." She felt a little awkward with their positions, though; either Flare did not realise how freely she offered her light to be plucked if Priscilla so felt, or she trusted her anyway. Then her more analytical mind took over. "Although it appears quite different from hers."

Flare's eyes widened and she whirled around, flame clutched to her chest. "You can do it too? Show me, show me!"

Taken aback, the Dragonslayer still followed her request. A matrix of aquamarine blocks presented itself, almost static where she recalled it shifting rapidly in the past. Wendy made certain to keep it close to herself, though. Yukino watched all this from the sidelines, clearly feeling awkward.

"Odd," Wendy mused after studying Flare's soul momentarily. "I did not notice before, but you smell somewhat... off. Not entirely human," she added. That was enough to morph Flare's confusion into understanding.

"Oh, yes, of course. I was blessed with a spark of grand Atlas Flame's power. Maybe this is why we are so different?" The admission explained a lot to Priscilla, but definitely caught attention from Quelaan and Kalameet.

"So," Yukino interrupted with faux nonchalance. "Anyone care to introduce me? Were you picking up girls again while I wasn't looking?"

Wendy shrugged while Flare's hair flashed momentarily, likely in embarassment. It did so again when the blunette bantered back: "Not quite, but perhaps I should consider if you fluke out again."

"Is it my fault you're a nympho?"

"It is your fault you lack stamina."

The dry quips drew a chuckle from Priscilla. Carla, since forgotten by the greater beings, grumbled something in her corner. Quelaan only offered a good-natured sigh. Flare, meanwhile, blushed clearly in the shine of her own hair. In a bid to drown out their banter, she nervously turned back to Priscilla. "I, ah, came to study magic."

This explained a lot; Fiore was well-known to be a frontrunner in magical development, second only to Alvarez. The Empire beyond the ocean was on the verge of collapse, however. With the sudden death of their immortal emperor and unifier, they were in a major crisis. Zeref held it all together, much like the tome she still kept secret admitted to her. A safety net toward Acnologia in case the Dragonslayers were found wanting in the end.

She shook off the memories that came with her train of thought. A smile was offered to Flare instead. "I know a few people who may be interested in taking disciples, if you are so inclined. Do you have any particular desires?"

"Ah, well. Not as such, no." She dragged her feet shily, chancing a look at Priscilla from between her burning bangs. "Do you, um, take students yourself?"

The crossbreed needed a moment to catch her meaning. Unfortunately, she had to shake her head. "Time does not permit such. I became guild master since last we met and my duties are manifold. Although you are of course welcome to visit Fairy Tail whenever you desire. The same remains true for you, Wendy," she added. "And you as well, Yukino."

Especially the white-haired woman was taken aback by being included all of a sudden. She and Wendy finished their banter by now, having stayed at the sidelines for a moment. "Really? It's okay?"

"Of course. The more the merrier, no?"

Kalameet puffed out a gust of air, clearly derisive. Priscilla threw him a scathing look, but their wordless exchange ended without conclusion. She shook her head and turned back to the humans. Now that she had time to study Wendy, she realised the young Dragonslayer was not too upset anymore. "Though perhaps you already made a friend on your own?" she teased Flare gently. Neither of them met her gaze.

Chuckling, Priscilla stood and exchanged a nod with Quelaan. Then she addressed the children: "Regardless, I shall take my leave now. The purpose of my visit is complete and while I would like to linger, duty calls. Do please visit Magnolia, I would love to speak with you more. All of you."

Saying her goodbyes, she courteously left the cave. Everyone bar Kalameet followed to see her off; he simply let her leave, as kin did not bother with meaningless goodbyes. They would meet again, sooner or later. Once outside however, Priscilla turned around, curtsied, and teleported back home. She could not help but grin as she imagined their dumbfounded expressions.

Then it was back to work. True to form, Warrod did no more than entertain Mavis and the local children.

 

[NightmareWarden]

I wonder what Warrod would make of the archtree nest/roost given his magic and experience...

This means Priscilla can almost certainly make a nest of her own, right? Neat. I think for practical reasons she'd pick someone far from the Guild, since the nest is a location she would definitely familiarize herself with, well enough to teleport to it.

I notice that Kalameet did not remark upon Priscilla's deadly nature. I guess it is just... Appropriate, for a dragon, given how he lives up to his own Calamity ability?

So Wendy's reaction. I like that she was able to experience this whole chapter without a breathing issue, that is a good sign. Though, I think her relationship with Carla has changed a lot compared to canon. I wonder if Carla has an adventure of her own on the horizon, beyond being Wendy's daughter, eternal companion, and so-on. Or she will, the least "amazing" member of this ever-growing family, will be picked for a mission of some sort. She has precognitive magic after all, which could interact strangely with Anor Londo.

 

[Naron]

"For brevity's sake, this tome will not cover every obscure subtype of any given discipline, but rather focus on the particularly noteworthy ones. Individual applications are excluded for the same reason. Most disciplines can be customised to the user's desires, though. It merely takes a creative mind and practice."

-excerpt from "The Soul of Magic", foreword

---

A ray of early sunlight kissed Wendy's forehead. Her eyes opened in response to the stimulus, the demi-dragon already awake. She blinked several times, then rose. She ignored the two bundles to her left and right. They were still in deep slumber after an evening spent with snacks, games, and chatting.

Well aware that Flare would never be cold, she threw her blanket over Yukino and resisted the urge to sneak a peek. That was inappropriate right now. Then Wendy snuck out of her bedroom to start the day. She took a quick dip in the underground river Kalameet graciously connected to her basement. After that came two hours of meditation on her nature and the world around it; two hours every day, merely to keep in tune with her soul's minute changes. She barely even minded anymore, what with the many months of routine. The fact she could subsist on three hours of sleep per day made more than up for it.

As always, by the time her mind snapped out of focus, Carla was snuggled into her lap. After spending another ten minutes or so petting her, she rose and shook out her legs. Then came breakfast, joined by a grumbling Yukino and bright Flare; the difference between them in the morning was like night and day. If anything, Flare appeared even happier than usual after their impromptu sleepover.

Mind, she still got flustered over her new friends' flirty banter, but that was a work-in-progress. After two weeks or so, she at least began getting used to it. Which was for the best, considering her freelance wizard application was approved and she joined their Team Skywing.

After breakfast, Wendy spent some time dancing under Quelaan's watchful eye. Her friends did their own practice, since acquainted with the pyromancer's routine. And after that, Wendy revealed a little surprise: while expanding the underground area, Kalameet found ancient tunnels. They led far down, likely beneath Crocus. And today, Wendy took her team exploring for fun; it would be nice to find an ancient artifact or the like, but she was not aiming for that. This was an exercise for Flare and the team as a whole.

True to her expectations, they found nothing. Flare spent most of the time illuminating their path, Yukino drew a map, and Wendy remained on the lookout for danger. Nothing accosted them.

"Well, it was a wash," Yukino summarised in the evening. All three were tired and sweaty, Flare more so than the other two. "What's the plan for tomorrow?"

Their newest friend piped up after a moment of silence: "Ah, I was thinking, could we go and visit Fairy Tail?" She fidgeted awkwardly, at least until Wendy voiced her agreement. It had been weeks since Priscilla told them to come by. She had questions now, especially about her Everlasting nature. Another artificial dragon may know more about the matter than Kalameet.

Yukino did not mind either, eager as she was to see the guild in Fiore.Wendy felt almost sorry for what would be inflicted on her. Then again, she was smirking for the entire train ride that next morning.

They met up after breakfast and bought their tickets, then set out for Magnolia. Flare marvelled at every station, chattering excitedly at them. Yukino was just as impressed, having never really left the capital before. Wendy felt a pang of nostalgia as they switched trains in Onibas; this was where she once lived, the old cave probably since reclaimed by nature.

She shook it off soon enough. At least she could tease Yukino, who put herself into a fluffy white dress that accentuated her curves. No sign of the usual punk attire. "Perhaps you can snag a suitor after all, at least until they realise what hides beneath the pretty face."

Yukino merely flipped her off, the gesture well at odds with her angelic attire. Wendy giggled. She left it at that, too; Flare also dressed nicely, wearing a crimson dress only a few shades darker than her hair. Wendy did not feel the need and went in dress shirt and a long skirt, though she since purchased new shoes to wear. Her hair was neatly tied into a ponytail.

All was calm when they disembarked in Magnolia Station. Cheerful townsfolk quickly conveyed the city's usual mood. It felt surprisingly similar to the atmosphere during the tournament, just less loaded with anticipation. Wendy still took to the less crowded streets and remained close to her friends; with them being near, their natural scents thankfully blocked out some of the stink. Yukino rolled her eyes at the Dragonslayer's behaviour, but soon glanced around.

"So," she inquired with only a hint of audible curiousity, "any idea what it's like?"

Flare shrugged cheerfully. "Oh, I can just tell they will all be friendly, with Priscilla as the master. This is so exciting!"

"Yeah. They're probably really strict, though. I mean, they got to be, right?"

Wendy was the only one who heard the laughter Yukino's comment drew from several people near enough to overhear. She had to grin as well. Her friends were too busy sharing their ideas of what Fairy Tail was like to notice.

Then they reached the guildhall, towering over all the other buildings. Wendy witnessed her friends' bout of nerves and strode forward instead to push open the door. They were immediately assaulted by a wave of noise, then a sight that left two of the three gaping.

A giant brawl covered two thirds of the taproom. Fists flew, magic circles of all colours brightened the room, and half the furniture was overturned to serve as makeshift barricades. Only three isles of tranquility remained, three tables completely untouched. The first seated a diminutive blonde around Wendy's age and an ancient man with a long, white beard. The second held a blue-haired man nursing a drink. And the third belonged to a trio of figures, two hooded and the third wearing an elaborate mask. The latter group merely leaned out of the way when someone or something came flying, as did the lone wizard closest to the bar. However fierce the fighting got however, it never dared spill toward the blonde with what she assumed to be her grandfather.

Wendy gave her friends a few seconds to soak in the violence before delivering the killing blow: "Seems to be as always."

Then she strolled inside, leaving them behind. Both women scrambled to follow while she decided to approach the girl's table. It seemed the safest, though she had to hop over a middle-aged man rolling by on the floor. "Hello," she greeted once near her destination. "May we sit with you?"

Curious eyes turned her way and brightened at once. "Of course!" the blonde agreed. "Feel free! You don't mind, do you, Precht?"

"Not at all," the elder returned with a huff. His indulgent smile could not be missed, though. Wendy slid onto the free bench opposite to them, soon joined by her disillusioned friends. Precht glanced between the three before focussing on Wendy again. "It is their first time here, is it not?"

"Indeed."

"Heh. And you didn't warn them. At all." The girl giggled while Wendy whistled innocently. Then she introduced herself: "Welcome back, Wendy. I'm Mavis. Who are your friends?"

She hesitated for a moment, trying to remember if she ever met this girl before. Maybe in passing during the tournament? Either way, she indulged Mavis and motioned for her friends: "These are Flare and Yukino. Master Priscilla may have mentioned us."

"Watch out!"

"She did indeed," the elder commented idly. He threw a sharp look and gesture toward Macao, aborting his ballistic course their way right back into the crowd. Wendy barely felt any magic and the man immediately rose in her esteem. For some reason though, his eyes were focussed on the Dragonslayer. "I hear you dance."

"That is true, although my dance is unlike any you ever beheld, sir."

He chuckled at that, forcing Wendy to quell her temper. Before either of them could continue, rainbow colours shrouded the entire table. A butterfly of pure aquamarine danced in front of her face, warping into flying lines of green and red. Purple roses rose between them, bands of silver connecting everyone together. Wendy felt the Ethernano exuding from Mavis, who giggled and patted her suspiciously bloated belly. Her friends were too mesmerised by the display to notice.

"He is not even born yet, but he already comes right after his father," Mavis chirped. Now that Wendy knew, she could finally place the odd addition to her scent. Most of it was covered by their surroundings, though. "I guess he wants everyone to get along, too." So saying, Mavis flicked out her fingers. Vermillion spell circles flared into existence, immediately blasting the brawl with enough water to interrupt it. "Playtime is over!"

Much to even her surprise, all this earned was some grumbling. Most of them were already laughing and clapping each other on the back. Some righted the furniture, others carried away what broke. A barmaid swooped by Wendy's table right after, sporting a black eye and a beaming smile. Mavis received an expansive meal she immediately began to destroy. Carla made a comment about propriety that was summarily ignored.

Others came by to greet her next, as well as her friends. Fairy Tail's earnest friendliness soon had both drawn into conversations. Little Romeo, Macao's seven-year-old son, soon introduced Flare to his fire magic teacher. A man called Totomaru, who was more than a little intrigued by her flaming hair. Yukino was talking to Elfman, now clad in white robes but still bereft of an arm.

"Ah, at last."

And there was Priscilla herself. Her entry went barely even acknowledged by the guild, not that she seemed to care. The giantess inclined her head toward Wendy, who greeted her back in the same manner. Then she passed a number of books and clipped parchments to Flare. "I did some research and while I could recommend tutors for fire magic, you seem to be in good hands already." Totomaru chuckled as Priscilla favoured him with a smile, clearly flustered. Then the crossbreed continued toward Flare: "But hair magic is far less common, so I took the liberty to gather a few instructional tomes and excerpts for you. I added a list for the recommended order to read through them, too."

"Oh?" Mavis impishly snatched the topmost page with telekinesis of her own, studying it. Her brows rose as she grabbed the second, too. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Only the best for a friend," Priscilla agreed, but neither explained. As far as Wendy could see, these excerpts lay topmost. Now she was curious what they said.

Before she could act on her curiousity, Precht rose from the bench. "You dance," he repeated, offering a firm hand. "would you care to dance with me, then?"

Wendy stared at the proffered limb, then at him. "My dance is unlike any you ever beheld," she repeated, but he was undeterred. "Alas, if you wish for the exotic, you shall have it." And eat his laughter about her claims. She took his hand and was pulled up.

The crowd parted as the dissimilar pair stepped away from Mavis. All eyes were on them, her previous performance clearly remembered. Precht grinned, shaking out his arms and legs to warm up. "Ah, to dance again," he mused, "it has been a while. Be warned though, Wendy Marvell. I am the one who dances with magic and I have done so since long before you were born."

"That, I doubt."

Some startled laughter followed her quip, but nobody seemed aware of the actual truth. Wendy took a deep breath and loosened herself up, then bent at the waist to bow. Precht did the same without prompt, much to her surprise. Then they began, almost as one.

Wendy no longer focussed on him the moment she twirled. Her soul sung as it spread outward, coralling the air in gentle waves. Wind spread from her, a soft breeze that enveloped the room. Her steps were secure, her posture eternal. Then she faltered mid-step as Ethernano bloomed in front of her. Precht matched her motions, surrounded by streamers of light that followed. All the elements bar her winds were made his, dancing along. The earth throbbed with each step, the light flickered along his limbs. Trails of water turned to steam as they mixed with flame, expanding outward.

Her eyes widened. All that kept her from stumbling was his satisfied, almost arrogant grin. Growing competetive, Wendy sped up her motions. For the first time she acknowledged him, if grudging. Her winds caressed the other elements, gently carrying them along in a gleaming river. Hundreds of stars were born and died within heartbeats.

Nothing existed anymore, only she and him. Wendy let her unheard song pour forward, only to find another answer. A melody so unlike her own, unlike Quelaan's. Old yet strong, supple still despite countless failings. Not eternal, nowhere close, but oh so human. Ancient in his own way. He allowed her to lead, following Wendy's motions until her hand landed in his; when he pulled to twirl her across the air, she followed. Her feet left the ground yet found purchase on a road of light, from where she descended gently. She remained in place, staring at him as her chest rose heavily.

The elements slowly quieted, their dance at an end. Precht nodded, his respect of her grown just like Wendy's had of him. He bowed again and this time, she curtsied in response.

Then they were drowned in uproarious applause. The entire guild cheered, including Priscilla. Wendy could not help but smile, pride satisfied. She had grown more proficient of late and it showed.

Just as the clapping subsided however, a noise like a thunderclap cut through it. Then again, and again, each time one of the hooded people clapped her hands. She rose, easily collecting the entire room's attention. Golden chains clacked softly as she moved, face hidden. Precht gasped ever so softly, inaudible to all but Wendy's sharp ears.

"Most impressive," the woman praised in a curt alto. Wendy was about to get annoyed again, but what followed left her stumped: "I expected as much of my own student. Thou however, who taught thee?"

She blinked at the figure, dumbfounded like the rest of the guild. Instead of answering the question, Wendy asked one of her own: "Who art thou?"

A soft huff sounded, then the woman raised both hands to pull back her hood. She revealed deep, red tresses framing a face she knew too well. Though Quelaan was chalk white in skin and hair, their regal features were too similar to be a coincidence. A faint scent of smoke wafted from the woman, her strict expression softened by a faint smirk. At least until it faded. "Quelana of Izalith is who I am. Now answer, child."

Her throat was dry all of a sudden. Quelana, that name she knew. Quelaan sometimes spoke of her sisters and brother. Wendy never expected to meet any of them.

Thankfully, or perhaps unfortunately, she was saved from stammering by a palpable pressure engulfing the room. Priscilla all but glared at the witch, clearly fighting for composure. Quelana's attention switched fluidly and sparks flew from her body as she resisted. "And indeed, my companion told no tall tales. An Everlasting dragon, in our form no less." More sparks flew, though her expression and voice remained curt. "How do you do?"

The pressure faded again and Wendy could breathe. Priscilla rubbed her temples before reluctantly inclining her head. "As can be expected under these circumstances. Keep thy flames away from this hall and we shall have an accord."

"That is acceptable. I meant no offense, this once."

"So I noticed," Priscilla quipped drily. "Thou hath been a frequent visitor for many months. And thy companions?" she followed up with a clear inquiry, to which Quelana arched an eyebrow.

"I believe I asked a question first. You would know as well, I believe? Who taught this child the art of pyromancy?"

Priscilla was about to respond, but then she threw a calculating look to Wendy. The older dragon motioned for her and she understood at once; even as one just aspiring to become Everlasting, kin-to-be would not speak in her stead. Nodding, she firmed up and answered: "Quelaan of Izalith, my caretaker. Although from her recountings, I gathered only she and Quelaag escaped the inferno?"

She had Quelana's undivided attention the moment her sister's name fell. For the first time her composure broke to display naked shock. The witch slowly forced her countenance back under control with a faint nod, grasping Wendy's chin to examine her up close. "They would not know, of course. I thought much the same of my own survival, having travelled at the time Chaos was born. What of Quelaag, then? Did she make her way to this realm as well?"

Wendy shook her head, though the gesture could not dislodge those calloused fingers. "I was told that Quelaag's daily visits ceased months before Quelaan arrived here. We expect the worst."

"I see."

Though not quite the same, Wendy could almost taste the ash those two words must taste like. Quelana let go at last, studying her thoughtfully. "Thou art yet young," she judged. "Thy dance is not developed fully, but thy potential is great. Do continue thy studies. And if she will see me, well. Apologies need to be made."

"Of course," Wendy returned with a faint smile. She understood well enough. "I shall inform her the moment I return."

"I'm confused," Yukino chimed in. Her sentiment seemed to be echoed by most of the guild watching their exchange. "That's too many similar names. And isn't Quelaan a spider something? How's, I mean, this?" She vaguely motioned for the very much human Quelana, whose brows had risen. An inquisitive gaze went Wendy's way, who shrugged.

"As I was told," Priscilla added curtly from their other side, "Quelaag and Quelaan of Izalith barely escaped the inferno alive. Their close proximity to newborn Chaos saw them mutated heavily. That is all I know of the matter; I doubt she would speak much of these circumstances to a child."

Wendy hated very much that the guild master was right. Her frown went ignored, though; Quelana nodded. "Indeed. Should we meet, I shall ask of her." She pulled her hood back up, once more hiding her face in shadow. A miniscule shift of her cowl reminded Wendy of the other two she arrived with. "Now, I am afraid I gave us away."

"It had to happen eventually," another female voice answered. The masked woman rose to join them. She was clad in black armour with dark blue regalia, not a single strip of skin visible. The person in red followed as well, though Wendy quickly noticed how limp one side of her robe hung. Moreover, a faintly familiar scent hit her nose as that one closed in.

Quelana huffed and turned back to Priscilla. "Dusk, formerly of Oolacile, prefers her solitude. Which is why thou saw her join us three rarely." Precht suddenly looked far more morose. "With me today stands Ciaran, formerly Lord's Blade."

The masked woman took the pause to mimic a shallow bow toward Priscilla, who bristled. "I never expected to lay eyes on thee once again," she greeted calmly. "Yet here we stand."

"Pardon," Wendy interrupted with a faint tilt of her head. "Who art thou?"

Ciaran stared at her for a long moment... and began to chuckle. Hearty laughter filled the otherwise empty hall for precious seconds. She stopped before Wendy could more than scowl, though. "Ah, how refreshing," Ciaran sighed. "Precious obscurity. I once served as knight of Lord Gwyn, young one. Never did I expect to so enjoy going unrecognised."

"May I assume thy presence in the open is a declaration of intent?" Priscilla ground out, hissing the "Lord's Blade" like an insult. Ciaran turned back to her instantly; Wendy noticed the aborted grab for her two scabbards, as did most everyone else.

"Thou may, abomination," she retorted. The guild gasped in surprise, but Priscilla's frown did not visibly change.

Then the third figure chopped the back of Ciaran's head. A loud clank took all tension from the room as the erstwhile knight stumbled forward. Her glare could not be seen but clearly felt, but the figure in red remained unaffected. "Enough of this posturing," she chided. Her voice was familiar too, but Wendy could not quite put it. Going by the confusion surrounding them, she was not the only one who recognised this from somewhere.

"You are one to talk. It was you who insisted on disguises to begin with."

"I told you before why it was necessary," the other woman retorted. Then she turned to Priscilla with a sigh, and pulled back her hood with one hand.

Beneath it lay a face Wendy knew, paler than she remembered. It was no longer youthful, marred by wrinkles. Her scarlet hair had been shortened and bound into a tight bun, sporting first streaks of grey. A gasp went around the room as Erza Scarlet revealed herself to the shocked Priscilla. "It has been twenty years," she announced gravely, though with a smile. "I have returned, everyone."

She was immediately mobbed by the entire guild. Wendy and her team were swept aside by the surge of people going for hugs and confused questions. Erza indulged them. Soon enough however, the odd procession was interrupted when Priscilla reached for her. The knightess was drawn into a bone-breaking embrace, too far from anyone else to join. Quelana huffed at the sight while Ciaran gave no visible sign of her thoughts.

"You were in Lordran," the older dragon stated. It was not a question, the conclusion clear as day from Erza's company. "Has it truly been twenty years?"

"Yes." If she was bothered by being off the ground, she gave no indication of it. "We actually returned a few weeks before the Fantasia Tournament, but I was cautioned against changing events. From how Ciaran and Dusk told me, people who met themselves ended up with grisly fates of some sort."

"And after the events on your island, our dear friend became skittish," Quelana added nonchalantly. Erza threw a glare her way, but she was unmoved. "As we can all attest, such worries were unfounded."

Priscilla snorted. "Obviously." Then she bopped Erza on the head with one finger. "You should at least have approached myself or Makarov. But it does not matter now. Welcome home."

When she finished the greeting with another big hug, half the guild jumped in and toppled Priscilla to the ground. She did not seem to care, somehow cushioning her fall so it did not break the floor. Wendy awkwardly stepped back to engage Quelana in conversation instead.

As the three women explained, Erza saved the realm of Oolacile just after her arrival. No one elaborated what from, though. She then journeyed across Lordran with Dusk and Ciaran by her side to find a way home. It took twenty years to accumulate the knowledge and expertise necessary. They picked up Quelana in a swamp along the way; first she was merely intrigued by their odd little group; then Erza went ahead and put the restless husk of her mother, the Witch of Izalith, to rest with Ciaran's aid. No one went into detail what this meant either, but thinking of Quelaan and what she heard about mutations, Wendy could guess.

Everything became less hectic afterward.

Except for Mavis, whose time approached swiftly. She mused idly, trying to distract herself from the pain. One direct consequence followed for the guild: Erza had enough fighting for more than one lifetime. She resigned from active duty, effective immediately. No one blamed her for it, though this put a serious dent in Fairy Tail's combat prowess. She would raise her blade in their defense, though. A single arm did little to deter Erza Scarlet. For now she rather settled down and began to tutor others in combat as well as magic.

Another contraction cut off that train of thought. Mavis was dragged back to the present and pushed as she was told. Then followed, finally, relief. She lay there panting, spent, as a piercing wail cut the silence.

"Congratulations," Polyushka grumbled. "It's a boy."

It was early May now, two months since the day Erza returned to them. Today was the day Mavis held her son for the first time. He had been suspended in stasis with the rest of her body for so long, now he was born. Tears silently flowed down her cheeks as she cradled him ever so careful. He was so small, so fragile, and he was hers. Hours passed in a daze; Mavis was in labour for a while and left alone to recover. She spent all this time watching her sleeping baby with a brittle smile.

"If only you could have met him," she mouthed. Not even whispered, as her throat was parched. A flick of Ethernano sent the glass on her bedside table flying to her lips. Then she pressed a damp kiss to their child's forehead. "I will name him August, after the month we first met."

She received no answer, not that one was expected.

The guild immediately fell in love with August; for the first time in years, goings-on inside were calm and quiet so as to not disturb him. Not a single soul stepped out of line. Within two weeks, he cheerfully threw sparks around. Mavis watched with pride how he replicated little tricks her guildmates amused him with in a matter of hours. He would be sick from the overabundance of Ethernano, yes, but for now her baby laughed.

Deep down she still ached, but she could smile nonetheless. He had his father's dark eyes and the same sunny disposition.

Had she known of the years to come, that knowledge would have strangled her hope for a brighter future in their crib.

 

[Naron]

"My Etherious were made to kill the unkillable. A sad consequence is that they are therefore born far more powerful than the average wizard."

-excerpt from "Lost Knowledge - Brightest Light and Darkest Dark"

---

Kyoka was still uncertain how it all came to be.

Following the faint urging of E.N.D.'s tome, she slowly traversed Ishgar. Country by country she passed over months, led ever further south. Sometimes she met people, hiding her inhuman legs under self-tanned hide. They all appreciated her free use of healing, removing scars and returning lost limbs wherever. She was given shelter, provisions, and heartfelt gratitude. Through it all though, she did not feel much. The sense of fulfillment Kyoka hoped for remained amiss. But the book was proud of her, at least.

Only upon returning to Fiore did this change. Not for herself exactly, but because a man spoke to her. Even now, years later, he never said what made him speak up that fateful day. She still did not know why she accepted his invitation to his guild. Perhaps she simply had no reason to refuse. Ever since reaching the southmost kingdom, E.N.D.'s tome fell silent. He seemed content to let her find her own path from here, so she did.

"The job is done, Master."

"Ah, wonderful, wonderful! As reliable as always, my sweet Kyoka!"

A meaty hand ruffled her hair, eliciting a twang of joy. She allowed it and leaned into his touch. Some people chuckled, but she paid no mind to their mirth. No one here wished her ill, least of all Master Bob. Then again, she doubted anyone made the connection that she was not human; her avian legs and feet were likely attributed to the uncommon magical mutations some people developed over time.

Nonetheless, Bob's praise brightened her world for a little time. He knew what she was after she confessed it to him the previous year, but accepted her regardless.

"Sit down, sit down," he urged with a big grin on his pudgy cheeks. "Tell us all about it. I'm sure Jenny wants to know, too."

"Absolutely," the starlet agreed. She stood out even among the well put-together crowd of suits and dresses in their guildhall; blonde, curvy, and clad in a lavender gown that accentuated her figure even further. When Mirajane vanished two years back, the Weekly Sorceror sought a new star model; in Jenny they found it, barely eighteen at the time. Now she was all but attached to Kyoka for reasons the Etherious just could not fathom. She reminded her a bit of Seilah. The comparison still hurt.

She let herself be dragged into a recounting of her mission anyway. Blue Pegasus mostly offered jobs in infrastructure and support of businesses, with a smattering of hunting and combat missions. Kyoka mainly grabbed whatever brought her out into the lands, far away from anyone who might recognise her. Her desire for privacy was noticed and so she became a bit of an open secret among her guild. No reporters would be pointed her way, ever. She was grateful for their consideration.

As she told the tale of her hunt after a pair of Vulcans, Kyoka once again felt her energy flag. She did not want to be around people anymore, merely curl up in her small bed and sleep. But with Jenny hanging on her lips, she forced herself to keep going for a while.

Once the guild's curiousity was sated, she left for home and lost her way. Her thoughts were wandering much like Kyoka herself. The novelty of being a guild wizard had since worn off, leaving her to feel like something was amiss. Then again, perhaps this was just her life. Ren suggested picking up another hobby when she brought it up in the past. Bob agreed with him then, fiddling with the scarf Kyoka knitted for him. Her first attempt at such a thing as leisure activities. She improved quite a bit since then.

She still wondered about that. Missions began to tire on her, but money was money. What else could she do when just about anything she attempted failed to appeal?

Kyoka resurfaced from her musings without an answer. She felt empty still. Then she realised she left town, finding herself near a desolate farm. It was struck by a wild beast half a year ago, one that she cleared out. Unfortunately, it already killed the owner by then. The place lay barren until someone bought it. She heard that the soil was no good and the price kept dropping.

Sitting down on a large log, she let her gaze wander the abandoned area. It felt strangely sympathetic, a place that resembled her. Shaking off the thought, Kyoka began to ponder again. Just what kind of activity did she like beside knitting? In the past she tormented humans for entertainment, but she also read the occasional book.

Recent rain brought a few worms to the surface. Kyoka absently snatched two and began to mutate them out of old habit. Her other hand stroked the warm tome now spread over her lap. Then she paused, staring down at the bright red creature in her hand. Its still pink companion wound around her claws in a bid to escape.

People bred animals, did they not? To produce goods, for competition, the like. Now here she was, able to freely manipulate the biology of a creature. She could become a breeder, perhaps? Maybe sheep, what with her plan to dabble with sewing? What other animals produced wool? Or rather, did she have to care when she could give any critter wool to begin with?

For some reason, wool did not appeal. Not quite. She could grow cotton too, without any animals. But neither really fit her guild, whom she idly fantasized of supporting with self-made clothes.

Then it hit her: silk.

Even if she lacked the skill to make fine garments, she could absolutely provide raw materials to actual tailours. Her expression grew brighter as plans were made. A tiny flame of passion once again kept her going. She willed herself past the everlasting exhaustion and to work. Research needed to be done. Carefully returning the worms to normal, she set both back down and turned around to walk back.

Meanwhile, her guild master had greater issues to contend with. Thanks to recent developments in magical technology, he could call his fellow masters via Lacrima when needed. A revolutionary design by Precht Gaebolg, based on the experimental tech Blue Pegasus originally funded. Once refinement lowered the costs, they expected such a station to enter every household across the country.

Today he stared at a handful of screens, each depicting a different yet familiar face. All the major guilds were in this conversation and no one was happy.

"You are certain it is Tartaros?" Priscilla was asking next. Quatro Cerberus' Goldmine nodded gravely.

"Aye. Another village of six hundred souls, gone."

Some quiet cursing sounded from Lamia Scale's Ooba and Sabertooth's Jiemma, but no one called them on it. Goldmine grimaced. "It's been a gods damned year since they started doing that. Do you want the good news or the bad news first? Kidding," he continued before anyone could respond, "it's all bad news: we got some intel out of them before they went for the kill. Tartaros is looking for a traitor and they will keep going with these atrocities until they found that traitor."

That was indeed bad news. Bob was lost in thought, only paying token attention to the conversation and discussion. He already knew that Tartaros rampaged without rhyme or reason. He, however, had an Etherious among his guild. Yet the memory of a bashful Kyoka getting her head pat and leaning into his touch deterred him from speaking up. And really, what were the odds it was actually her? She hardly had it in her to betray anyone.

"Looks like terror tactics to me," Goldmine was saying when Bob's attention returned to the conversation. "Whoever shelters that traitor is scared into booting them out."

He nodded along. "Ah yes, that makes sense, my dear. But Ishgar is vast and Tartaros never spreads far. Do they really think they can find their traitor like this?"

His question quieted the group momentarily. No one quite knew, at least until Priscilla's creased brow smoothed out. "Now I get it," she announced. "That is why they never remain stationary and leave significant gaps between attacks. Driving up fear, having the message pass around. They want whoever they seek to know, and they want everyone to know what they are after. Even if a country has never received a visit, they will shudder once that floating base appears. Sooner or later they will find someone who knows something, then they will truly hunt."

Somber silence follwed her musings. Bob could see the logic in her words, not that it appealed to him. The mere thought of such a fate befalling Fiore creeped him out.

Then Sabertooth's Jiemma snorted. "They stay far away from us," he drawled. "The guilds here are strong and not as easily beaten as whoever they went after so far."

"Hah!" Ooba crowed, cackling. "That's the most arrogant sentence I heard this year!"

And considering it was late October, this certainly meant something. Jiemma bristled as expected, far too prideful. Bob jumped in to smooth things over before they started arguing: "There is in fact someone in Fiore that Tartaros fears. Unfortunately for all of us, it is only a matter of time until they find out she isn't here."

The others quieted to mull it over; much as he expected, Priscilla understood first. "Ah. Mirajane." He nodded back.

"How do you know that?" Jiemma inquired, to which he squirmed momentarily. Technically, Kyoka told him how afraid Etherious were of the She-Devil. But ever since he learned that fact, it felt so obvious. Hindsight was twenty-twenty after all.

What he said was more of a deflection: "She is well known for absorbing demons and taking their powers. Tartaros is, as far as we know, all demons. It just makes sense that her reputation is what keeps them away."

He received muttered agreements from the other masters and the subject was dropped. Priscilla still pondered, however.

"The question is: how do we carry on now? Tartaros will eventually come to Fiore. Not to mention the many people who will die along the way. I do not fear them, but the devastation they can bring is... considerable."

She was right and they all knew it, but there was little they could do. Tartaros was active on the other side of Ishgar at the moment. They could not help people that far away. After some back-and-forth, the guilds agreed on a wait-and-see approach to the issue. They would keep their eyes and ears open, prepare for the case of an attack, and hope Tartaros kept their distance until Mirajane returned. An offensive became far more feasible with the one person they feared at hand.

While the guild masters concluded their conversation, Wendy faced her own little council. She faintly stared down at a chocolate cake sporting sixteen candles, then back up at Yukino and Flare. Solano's grin was easily brighter than both of theirs, even though she was just chaperoning them.

"Happy Birthday," Flare congratulated kindly. Yukino echoed her a moment later, smoothing out her white dress. Wendy still did not know if it was their teammate or her sister that inspired the change, but the former punk's edges had been smoothed away over the years. She smiled openly now.

"I told you this was unnecessary," she deflected once again, bashful. It still made her happy and she quickly embraced both of her friends. Then, after a moment of hesitation, she did the same with Solano. "Thank you."

The older woman's chuckle was more felt than heard. She gently patted Wendy's head before letting her go with a silly grin. "You haven't seen the best part yet. We put our heads together to find you a nice present. Bring it in, girls."

Her order was followed and Wendy's teammates quickly brought in a big box. It was wrapped in aquamarine and sported a pink bow that all but dissolved when pulled. A shower of sparks flew into her face the moment she took off the lid, obscuring Wendy's vision. She blinked a few times to clear it, then gaped at what was inside. No useless trinkets to put on her nightstand like last year, no. Quite the opposite. What greeted her was the sight of clothes, all but wafting with the scent of magic. Fine runes were stitched along the seams, glittering gently.

Wendy reached inside and reverently pulled out a tank top similar to what Yukino used to wear. It was light pink, almost white. Next came a sturdy vest as blue as the brightest sky, then black shorts that would barely reach her knees. And lastly, a pair of sturdy, dark-brown leather boots with plain white kneesocks. Every single item was enchanted as heavily as humanly possible.

"This must have cost a fortune," Wendy mumbled. She was awestruck, letting the fine cotton run through her fingers. The vest was silk, though. She paused. "Quelaan was involved in this, no?"

"A lot of people were," Yukino admitted cheerfully. "Quelaan, Quelana, Erza, Priscilla, sis, her friends. And hey, lookie here." She pointed out a string of alien orange on the soles of her boots. "Even Kalameet helped out. After a lot of convincing."

She snorted at that, well aware how he could be. Although the black dragon's interest in humans and their affairs grew recently, from complete indifference to a faint curiousity. Examining whatever he did to her boots, she quickly found she had no idea. "What do all these enchantments do?"

"Let's see. There should be..." Flare reached into the box and rummaged around. Then she paused, fidgeted, and drew out three more items. First a set of matching undergarments Wendy missed and knew were Yukino's idea the moment she saw them, then a sheet of parchment. Flare quickly passed it all to her. "Here, we put it all on a list."

Had Solano not also been present, Wendy would have taken the challenge and changed right in front of them. As it were, she disregarded the idea and perused this list. What immediately stood out were the self-cleaning and self-repair enchantments, ensuring she would not need to replace these clothes for a long time. Then there were eleven different defensive charms, mainly elemental, followed by passive Body Enhancement. As it turned out, Kalameet's addition would keep her feet steady on any surface, even vertical ones. There was more still, a positively obscene number.

Shaking her head, Wendy put down the list.

"You are insane. I am grateful, but you are insane."

The Agria sisters laughed openly in response while Flare inclined her head. Wendy hugged them all again. Then she turned around, took a deep breath, and blew out all sixteen candles on the cake Flare baked for her. "Now we should join everyone else below. I believe I owe a few more hugs."

"Sure thing. Think we can get Kalameet to eat a slice?"

The mental image Yukino's comment conjured up had Wendy giggling all the way down the stairs. She greatly enjoyed her birthday party that day. An actual party even, not the quiet, restful days Quelaan thought of as a celebration. Not that they used to know enough people or have the funds for anything extravagant.

The next day she immediately put her new outfit to use and took her team exploring beneath Crocus. The catacombs were still interesting and unexplored in parts.

Unfortunately, Yukino did not share her enthusiasm anymore. "We can just go on missions," she complained, "there's nothing down here we haven't seen yet."

"This is a calm spot to practice, though," Flare offered diplomatically. She had a point as well, though Yukino shook her head in response.

Before they could continue bantering, Wendy's head snapped around. She stopped suddenly, making the white-haired woman bump into her. A surprised exclamation went ignored; she absently pushed Yukino away and sniffed the air, brow creased. A familiar scent wafted along that inconspicuous sidepath. Too weak to be recognisable, except for the animal part of Wendy's mind. She was certain she smelled this before.

"I believe," she quipped softly, "that you will get your diversity in a moment."

Then she led the way down that path, ignoring questions. The trail went through several winding corridors, likely meant to confuse explorers with how often they split. Wendy's nose made short work of it. Yukino grumbled as she set quick lines on her map, long shadows cast over her pretty face by Flare's gleam.

The grumbling stopped once they turned the final corner and entered a veritable cavern. The three friends halted in their steps, staring at the contraption they found: a gate of sorts, sporting twelve keyholes evenly spaced around its frame. Various apparatuses were attached to the massive structure, easily large enough to cover the far wall. Ethernano was thin here, too. Wendy spotted no less than two dozen humongous Lacrima, six of them filled to the brim with magical power. The steel was stainless, looking as good as new. In fact, it was not steel at all.

"Wow," Flare whispered reverently. Though quiet, her voice echoed until Wendy forced the air under her control. She would only get annoyed if this kept happening.

"What is this?" Yukino said next. No one had an answer for her and a cursory search revealed nothing. No instructions, no inscriptions. Whatever had once surrounded this imposing structure, it was no more.

Wendy considered dragging Kalameet here to inspect this, but he would refuse unless she gave him a good reason. Idle curiousity was not one. She sniffed again, trying to place the scent and failing. It was familiar as well as ethereal in some aspects. Almost... other? And those were keyholes, twelve of them. An idea began to form in her mind, even if it was a long shot.

"Yukino? Could you call for Aries?"

"What? Why?"

"Just a hunch."

"Okay? One sec."

The ram's gate cast golden light upon the entire area. For a moment Wendy thought she saw the large gate flash in response. It was gone before she could say for certain. Then Aries joined them with her customary smile. Yukino received a big hug in greeting, then Wendy and Flare did as well.

"What can I do... for... you."

Aries had begun upbeat, but the looming gate's sight made her trail off slowly. "Oh my."

"So you know what this is?" Wendy inquired. "Are those keyholes for the Zodiac keys?"

Aries' hesitation was answer enough. She knew it too, going by how her shoulders fell. Yukino wrapped an arm around her with a winning smile. "Now don't make a face, it's all good. Even if this thingy is bad news, it's not doing anything. So what is it? C'mon, tell us!"

"I would rather not."

"Aww, pretty please?"

A valiant if futile attempt at puppy dog eyes did not sway Aries. The pinkette faintly shook her head. Tears brimmed in the corners of her eyes. "Please don't ask. If anything, it would be best to leave this contraption alone forever. It will not open unless all twelve zodiac keys are inserted. Its purpose is fulfilled. You would be better off forgetting it even exists."

Wendy heard her words, but the plea did not deter her. She could not forget anymore, even if she wanted to. Aries' tears gave her pause, yes, but her mind kept on rattling through possibilities. There were ultimately too many to make any conclusions, however. "Who built this?"

Aries met her gaze, finding only honest curiousity. After receiving the same from Yukino and Flare, she began to fidget. The key in Yukino's hand gleamed momentarily as the spirit considered fleeing their pleading looks. Then she slumped. "A dear friend of the celestial court. You call him the Black Wizard. Zeref."

Wendy hissed in surprise. Flare's eyes widened. And Yukino's "What?" echoed even through Wendy's control of the air.

"What do you mean, Zeref? How is the worst guy in history your friend?! You can't-"

Yukino was cut off by one of the few things none of them had ever expected to see. Aries fixed her with a sour look. When her summoner's mouth opened and closed soundlessly, she stepped forward. Two gentle hands took a hold of Yukino's cheeks, forcing her to look Aries in the eyes. "Zeref. Is. My. Friend." She repeated slowly. "My contract with him was never broken. All twelve zodiacs were contracted with him. He is the only one beside Lucy Heartfilia to step before the Starlit Throne since dragons ruled these lands. Only him. He forged the key in your hand and he forged this gate for his final quest. Do not speak of him as if you know him, Yukino. Zeref was a kind man and I, hic, I miss him terribly."

The tears began to flow somewhere during her tirade. Then Aries sobbed and collapsed into Yukino's arms. The bewildered woman comforted her anyway, soon joined by her friends. None of them knew how to treat this development. The Black Wizard was involved in this, whatever this was. Aries would not speak of the matter anymore, forcefully closing the gate when Yukino tried to poke her again.

In the end, the three of them decided to trust the ram. Whatever this gate was, its purpose was already fulfilled. And if nothing else, the Zodiac keys were incredible things, so maybe Zeref really was not as bad as people thought? Not that Wendy was dumb enough to say that where anyone else could hear. All of this was their little secret from that day forward. Not a soul learned of the device, or of the origin of gate keys.

Priscilla, who already knew of all but Eclipse's position, would not have been bothered either way. As it were, she remained unaware. She continued her studies and duties without pause beyond the occasional day spent strolling around Magnolia. A habit she got from Makarov, who took time to interact with the people of Fairy Tail's hometown every once in a while.

October passed in favour of November when another visit from Wendy's team reminded her of Flare. Flare in turn reminded her of Sun Village and Atlas Flame. The last time they met, she barely knew anything of Earthland. So after clearing her schedule once again, Priscilla readied herself to teleport there for some catching up. No one but Mavis even knew where she went, the erstwhile master now effectively her right hand.

Priscilla vanished the moment her spell completed. It felt like her initial journey to Earthland, only that she controlled her fall through the tunnel. She needed but a few seconds to reach her destination.

The moment she arrived, Priscilla's thought processes ground to a screeching halt. What lay before her did not quite want to be processed.

The grand walls were torn down, all but turned to rubble. Bountiful fields had been ravaged and burned. Buildings collapsed, turning entire streets into blockades. And across it all lay the corpses of giants, rivers of spotty crimson flowing from their wounds. Only the buzzing of flies held the deathly quiet at bay. Above it all hung a fog of mourning, the lament of Atlas Flame.

Priscilla thoughtlessly approached the nearest body, larger than her even with its lower half amiss. The man's face was forever marred by a vicious snarl. She ran a finger over his skin, only to find it cold. Whoever did this, it was not recent. Several days ago, most likely. A likely suspect already came to mind; anger began to bubble with that thought.

Turning abruptly, Priscilla marched into town. No one hailed her at the gate, no gentle giants bent down to engage her. The acute sense of wrong only fuelled her wrath. Angry glares popped the insects feasting on their cadavers. Within moments there was true silence. She disrupted it right after by willing the street free. Rubble shifted, grinding against itself before bowling over a half-standing building. It collapsed away from her. Priscilla's march continued, right toward the amphitheatre where the Great Flame rested. Still bodies greeted her wherever she went, some barely taller than her.

By the time she arrived, the pressure of her own presence had already focussed Atlas Flame. His burning gaze found hers immediately. His heat vaporised the tears blurring her vision.

"Who?" Priscilla ground out, wrath fluttering on her voice. Some of the nearby plants that survived so far withered away. Atlas Flame growled right back.

"Demons," he spat, confirming the greater dragon's earlier suspicion. "They asked no questions, made no demands. They came and they killed until no one was left. My children fought back and took down a few, but they were found wanting when their leader and elite took the field."

The dragon's spirit slumped, then flinched away from Priscilla's eruption. Stone turned to dust beneath her feet and left her floating, gravity itself too scared to try affecting her. She was apoplectic now, her every fibre brimming with god-killing might. She would find them and exterminate them like the wretched vermin they were!

A voice sundered her daydreams of disproportionate retribution, still mighty yet oh so small: "Perhaps it is time to fade at last. I lay amidst the ashes of all I yearned to protect. All gone, now."

Atlas Flame pawed at the remains of one of his sentinels, felled right next to the pedestal his own body rested on. His woe returned a spark of sanity to Priscilla, who slowly began to fight for composure. She approached the other dragon and hugged him.

"Tis not your fault," she murmured, clouds of vapour rising from her eyes. Atlas Flame was too bewildered to respond; his attempts to figure out how she remained pristine while forcing fire into solid form to hug remained fruitless. By the time Priscilla let go of him, her composure was merely cracked instead of gone. She gently cradled his head against her chest. "And thou art wrong as well. Flare yet lives. Within her, all of Sun Village remains."

He huffed weakly, a puff of glimmering air. "Indeed. And yet." A slight shift told her he was gazing at the devastation still.

"Shall I move your body to Fiore?"

"No. This is where I was once put to rest and this is where I belong." A heavy sigh followed, shaking even Priscilla. "But if I may ask a favour? I can not move the bodies for their last rites."

"I understand," she answered and let go. Her smile turned watery again. "Of course I will help. But before that I need to inform Flare. It will break her heart, but she deserves to know. Perhaps being present will give her some sort of peace."

"A fine idea. I only hope her star will not fall from this, so soon after its rise began."

She nodded mutely and began to flit around the place. As inappropriate as it felt to rush, time was of the essence. She gathered all the bodies and covered them up to protect from further parasites. Collapsed buildings and other rubble dutifully jumped aside to reveal some of them when she passed, ensuring not a single one was missed.

Then, with an exertion of will, she almost tore a hole into space on the leap back to Crocus. Instead of arriving outside of the fence to be polite, Priscilla materialised in the middle of that cave she remembered. No sound announced her, making Quelaan of Izalith flinch back moments later. Kalameet eyed her stony countenance and swirling power, climbing to his feet.

"Is it time to slay a kinslayer?" he asked, but Priscilla shook her head.

"Not yet, no. Other matters require my attention. I seek Flare Corona, has either of you seen her of late?"

"Um."

Priscilla turned around to find who she was looking for. Wendy and Yukino were present as well, as inconvenient as it was right now. Only when all three retreated from her did the dragon realise she was still putting too much pressure on her surroundings. "Apologies," she murmured, reining in her raging emotions some more.

Flare hesitantly stepped forward, hands clasped in front of her chest. "Did something happen? You're crying, and, is everything okay? Is Mavis okay?"

"Tis not about Mavis. I..." She trailed off, wiping tears from her eyes. With a last effort, Priscilla willed herself back under control. Now was not the time. She could grieve after delivering the bad news. Taking a deep breath and firming up, she met Flare's gaze evenly. "I just returned from Sun Village. The entire village was destroyed... I am so sorry."

"W-What?"

Flare stared up at her, uncomprehending. Priscilla ignored everyone else in favour of her, and so she was able to see the news register. Minute twitches in her expression, errant sparks of flame from her hair. The first glint of tears, arms falling slack. It was at this point Wendy glomped the poor girl, whose composure broke like brittle wood in a storm. She slumped into her friend's embrace and cried quietly; Yukino joined them moments later.

Priscilla gave them space and sunk herself in thought. The anger was still there, bubbling right beneath the surface. Acknowledging the need to do something about it later, she pondered her next steps. How long exactly it took for Flare to gather her wits, she did not know. Once she had, Priscilla knelt before her.

"Again, my heartfelt condolences. I came right this way once I learned of what happened," she explained. Flare just stared, nodding faintly. Priscille tried to sound as gentle as possible, uncertain how well it worked. "Do you wish to witness their last rites?"

Another nod, slightly more hesitant. Priscilla gently stroked the far smaller woman's head with her thumb. Flare still flashed heat. "I need to prepare first. Please dress according to your home's customs, I will pick you up in about two hours."

"Okay."

The hoarse whisper broke her heart some more. Priscilla smiled nonetheless, at least until she managed to teleport back to Sun Village. There, amidst the carnage, she allowed the scowl back out. She allowed more tears to fall for these people she hardly knew. Yet she would always remember their kindness.

Two hours were a difficult time limit, but previous preparations and copious amounts of magic saw it through. When she returned to fetch Flare, Priscilla found her wrapped in ash grey from head to toe. Wendy and Yukino were the exact same, their silent message understood. The dragon inclined her head.

"Very well. Gather before me."

They did it without complaint and moments later, all three could behold the devastation. The sun shone brightly upon them as if to mock the gravity of Flare's loss.

Soft gasps and choked sobs were all that broke the silence. Rubble had been cleared and pyres were erected in a wave around Atlas Flame. The dead had been placed on neat bundles of wood and straw, every one covered in crimson sheets. Had any of them cared to look, they would have found the nearest woodland decimated.

Wendy and Yukino each held one of Flare's hands, though the Dragonslayer's gaze kept wandering to the obvious dragon observing them. When his charge strode his way, he even mustered the energy to rise. Flare knelt right between two of the pyres.

"I have returned, great Atlas Flame."

"You have," he rumbled sadly. "And yet. If only you never had to. My apologies, Flare. I failed them as I failed you."

"It was not your fault," she tried, but the words rang hollow. Atlas Flame bristled.

"I am the guardian of this village, but lacked the strength to prevent this. Now all I can offer you is to begin the procession."

He reached out a single paw, pressing his claw against Flare's cupped hands. Heat flared and when his limb retracted, a single, shining spark remained. She held it gently like a newborn, face ashen.

Rising slowly, Flare Corona inspected the pyres. Priscilla stood silent and still as the human woman approached the nearest one. Atlas Flame's spark was nestled in its center, where it remained until Flare retreated. She returned before him to receive another and the process repeated. No one spoke while Flare worked, placing inert sparks one by one.

Once the final seed of flame was placed, she motioned the three observers to her side. Atlas Flame settled next to them, head bowed. "I salute the victorious dead," he murmured. "May the flames carry their souls to the great beyond. Mayhaps my king will receive them there, as he will receive me once my time comes."

On the last word every spark blossomed as one, spreading like wildfire. The pyres were consumed in seconds, burning brightly against the evening sunlight. Heat surrounded them, though only Yukino and Flare actually felt it. Neither acknowledged the pearls of sweat running down their faces, eyes glued to the thousand giant bonfires. Wendy, too, was mesmerised.

Priscilla suspended all thoughts for the time being. Indulging in base instincts, she simply watched the fires roar and eventually fade. Night had fallen by the time only cinders remained. A faint rustle snapped her out of the trance, so different to the many cracks of burning wood and bone. Flare had sunk to the ground, quietly weeping. Her friends embraced her again without a word. Ash covered the lot of them, carried by the winds. Priscilla as well, but for once she ignored it.

"Gather their ashes, friend Priscilla," Atlas Flame instructed. She inclined her head and focussed, letting great, grey rivers ascend to the heavens. They intermingled, forming a great cloud that blotted out the moon and stars. She needed no further instructions, producing gales that tore the mass apart. She gave them great force and let them loose to carry their flakes across all of Ishgar.

She felt strangely empty by the end, all but the rage gone.

Everyone watched the ashes disperse. Atlas Flame's gleam cast long shadows under the bleak moonlight.

A faint crackle announced the native dragon's motion some time later; he bowed to Wendy.

"Although the circumstances are unfortunate, I greet you regardless, princess of the sky. Be welcome, daughter of Grandine. And farewell."

When he went on to say goodbye to Priscilla, he found her scowling.

"Just like this? You just fade quietly into the night?"

He huffed in response. "I am but embers now. There is precious little of me left. Except, perhaps...."

He trailed off, studying the devastated Flare. She had yet to turn their way, eyes still on the barren field of stone the ceremony left behind. Only broken dreams now lived in the fallen village. She twitched when the dragon spoke her name: "Little one. Flare. Will you carry the torch in my stead?"

His question had her whirl around. "Me? B-But I, I'm just, I couldn't-"

She babbled nonsense, weakly motioning for the ruins. Priscilla ached at the sight of her distress, but held back out of curiousity. Atlas Flame held his silence for a while, at least until it became clear Flare would not form a coherent sentence. Then he interrupted her: "And what of it? You received a spark of myself and are well, more than well even. You journeyed forth into the unknown regardless the uncertainty and danger. Will you carry my flame, or will you not?"

Flare herself had no idea how to respond to this. She was empty, spent, and woefully inadequate for such an honour. In her own opinion, at least. She chanced a look to her friends, but Yukino stared blankly and Wendy was deep in thought. A glance to Priscilla revealed the giantess deathly still. Only the faint tremors running through her entire body proved she was still alive.

A chuckle rumbled, shaking the very air. "This is not a question for anyone but you to answer," Atlas Flame declared. Then he leaned forward, gently intruding in Flare's personal space to meet her gaze. "Listen into yourself."

So she did. Her heart cried, throbbing in pain with every breath. Her soul wept for the many lives lost. Her mind was empty beyond the faint notion of failure. She did not know. At least, until she realised Atlas Flame himself thought her worthy of his gift. That the ones responsible for this massacre were out there. Her eyes snapped open, alight with an emotion she rarely ever felt. A spark of anger ignited in her chest.

She wordlessly knelt before the majestic flame, who inclined his head in turn. "Very well. Then you shall have it. All the power I have left. Surpass the path you would have walked as but human, burn your enemies until not even ash is left!"

His voice grew consistently louder until the final words rolled across the dead village and the countryside. Streamers of golden orange connected Atlas Flame and Flare, pulsing with the song of life. His life, ended so long ago yet still vibrant. It inflamed her spirit, but she grit her teeth and bore the searing pain. Every fibre of her body burned. His next words echoed through her as much as around her: "Never cease, never falter, burn an inferno until the final spark is sprung! And never forget: you are the last child of Atlas Flame!"

Ever more of his essence flowed into her. She was connected to the last fire dragon, saw him for what he was. And for but a moment, Flare beheld the majesty of his memory. Not a centuries-dead corpse, but the Atlas Flame of his prime. For a mere instant she thought she could hear a swarm calling for her. A king, larger still and clad in crimson scales. A long scar ran over his left eye... and he smiled upon her.

The vision faded and Flare fell to the ground. A faint cloud of ash sprung up; she wanted to speak, but had to cough violently. Her throat was so hoarse, had she been screaming?

A yelp drew her attention to Yukino; the other woman was bent forward like she wanted to help, but something held her back. She was difficult to see behind a screen of flickering air. Wendy slowly inched closer, softly laying a hand on Flare's forehead. It was so cool.

As her mental faculties returned, Flare began to realise that Atlas Flame was gone. Nothing remained of his body, but the light yet shone. Her own hair was now pure flame, her skin a few shades darker than before. She curiously studied her hand; fire sprouted from each fingertip with but a thought. A deep breath imbibed more Ethernano to be burned up as fuel. Flare blinked at her limb, realising that her mourning garb burned away.

Once the implications registered, she let out a startled squeak and covered her lady bits. Torrents of fire followed the motion of her hands, forming protective and thankfully obscuring layers of orange and red over her skin.

Then her friends started laughing at her. Flare pouted, well aware of Priscilla's indulgent smile. She felt better nonetheless. She had a goal now, to find those responsible for her home's destruction and bring down the hammer. Atlas Flame gave her what strength he had left. So she would use it to make this world a better place, one bad person at a time.

 

[SpadeofPain]

oh shit Ishgar.

They are going to want the Heir of their monarch Zeref once they find out he exists and Zeref does not anymore.

 

[Naron]

"Life Link magic requires great care in its deployment, for it can quickly become one's downfall. As its name implies, the caster may link two lives together; when one is extinguished, so is the other. It is a useful tool to stop more idealistic opponents, but inherently not a kind discipline. More scrupulous wizards can make use of one-sided links to bind their subordinates to their own life, effectively forcing them into service. I once considered binding my Etherious the same way, but ultimately decided it too cruel."

-excerpt from "Lost Knowledge - Brightest Light and Darkest Dark"

---

Being an elemental of a sort, Flare quickly learned, was a lot more work than 'just' being a wizard.

She rolled over on the stone slate Wendy graciously prepared for her. Being malleable enough not to need care for where she slept was good. Having no blanket because it would burn sooner or later was bad. Never being cold despite the lack of blanket was good again.

Once the haze of sleep faded somewhat, Flare spent a few minutes staring at the ceiling. Wendy was awake already and Flare knew exactly what would happen if she was caught unawares these days. Not that she minded anymore, but there was no time to spend right now. A flick of her wrist and exertion of will had part of her skin ignite; or rather, to be more exact, her skin returned to its natural state of being fire. The flames quickly grew to an acceptable size before turning solid. Now wrapped in an orange and crimson dress, Flare sat up.

Burning any and all cloth she tried to dress with was bad. But her internal flame made a decent substitute and was completely free. That was good. Being effectively naked at all times still took some getting used to. Not to mention that she could no longer live in Crocus, what with the close proximity of flammable material wherever she deigned to sleep.

Quietly appreciative of Wendy's immediate offer to take her in, Flare stretched and opened the door. Just as she thought, her friend was already glaring holes into the nearby walls. Quite literally, at that. Flare moved in almost two months ago and the younger woman decided she would live like a queen. It was sweet of her to do so much construction and expansion, kept underground for safety purposes. The safety of every bit of greenery above, that was.

Wendy's ears twitched and she paused in her work. "Good morning," she greeted softly while accepting a hug. "Does everything work fine now?"

"Yep," Flare chirped back with a smile. She found she liked hugs, both giving and getting. Or maybe Wendy was just nice to hug. Then again, so was Yukino. "But there is not really anything left for me to burn." It was all rock and clay.

"At this point I expect you to melt a hole through the ground," Wendy deadpanned back. Flare giggled, then squeaked in surprise when a firm hand smacked her rear. "Now off with you, Quelaan is up and waiting."

"Of course. See you later."

Wendy already went back to work and Flare walked down the main corridor. Quelaan took an interest in her fire-based powers before the transition, but now she insisted on teaching. Flare did not have any talent for dancing or attuning her soul and mind, but fire she knew. So even if pyromancy was beyond her for now, she got something out of the spider lady's lessons. Her sister Quelana joined them sometimes with new ideas and explanations.

Two months it had been since Flare set fire to the remains of her home. This place was nice, but not quite home. Maybe just not yet, but that was in the future. At least Flare could feel hopeful, thanks to Wendy, Yukino, and some other friends she made since her arrival in Fiore. The niggling wrath remained locked tightly in its cage, waiting for the day she found Tartaros' demons. Priscilla coughed up that tidbit when she asked, as well as the fact they were far out of reach.

After an hour of conversation with Quelaan, she stepped out for a walk. Fresh snow greeted Flare, hissing and steaming the moment she came near. Hands folded behind her back, she strolled along the frozen earth in a cloud of vapour. Faint sunlight made the distant hills shine like gemstones.

"Hey!"

The shout drew her attention to Yukino, who hurried her way with a coat thrown over her new favourite dress. The cloth swished around her ankles, its hem wet from snow. She waved cheerfully and wrapped Flare in a hug that she returned enthusiastically. "Good morning, sparky! You ready for the trip?"

"I did not have breakfast yet," Flare retorted gently to calm down her friend. "Neither did Wendy, I think." She already knew the quip coming her way by the coy grin Yukino favoured her with. "You know we have chores in the morning."

"Yeah. Chores." Yukino snorted, then wrapped an arm around Flare's shoulder. They walked back together, following the trail of bare earth. "How often was it chores and how often did she fuck your brains out? C'mon, spill."

Although Flare was used to her friend's very direct language by now, the question still left her squirming. Faint shocks of heat escaped her grasp, but were nowhere near strong enough to injure the other woman's arm around her shoulder. When the expectant silence began to stretch, she shily averted her gaze. "Twice."

"Only twice? Wow." Yukino whistled. Flare's cheeks exploded with heat regardless. "That's some major restraint from her."

Flare almost committed the classic blunder of elaborating. She barely caught her traitorous tongue in time and let the subject drop. "Anyway, do you think Mavis will be there?"

"Oh, absolutely. And maybe August won't wail at us for once."

"He was teething."

"Annoying is what he was."

"I did see you making faces at him when you thought nobody was looking."

Yukino grimaced, but did not refute the point. Flare shook her head with a smile. She made certain to keep some distance from children since her transition, mainly because she did not want to risk hurting them. August only watched her attempts to amuse him with big eyes, then giggled and threw a fireball at her face.

Only this time, Fairy Tail's New Year's celebration did not feature the excitable toddler. He was sick with Ethernano overload, carefully tended to by someone called Meredy. Flare had never met the woman, but Mavis trusted her with her child and that was good enough. Team Skywing enjoyed the few hours they spent in Magnolia, but before long they returned to Crocus. To celebrate the actual new year with Wendy's and Yukino's families.

But life went ever onward and all these tender moments passed into memory. Weeks and months went by for Flare as much as anyone, including Kyoka.

Half of the new year had soon passed; May approached its end. For once however, the Etherious was as happy as she could still be. Breeding silkworms was a wonderful idea and she greatly enjoyed the work. Experimenting with minor alterations and their effects was more fulfilling than she expected. No horrible monsters, no combat forms, just plain and simple exploration. She did have to dissect several specimens to learn about their biology, but that was alright.

Now Kyoka was far less active with her guild work. In exchange she quickly became known as a producer of quality silk after buying the desolate farm she once wandered through. How fortunate that Fiore's guild system allowed as many memberships as one desired, as long as no two guilds were part of the same field. She could easily join a local merchant guild to sell her silk.

Kyoka hummed contendedly as she thought back to the unfinished work waiting at home; sewing did not come easily, but it felt relaxing. Not quite mindless work, but close enough.

Right now however, she was delivering silk. The local tailours and seamstresses were happy to buy some of her produce and turned it into beautiful pieces. Even a few of her guildmates wore them, making Kyoka's mind boggle time and again when she saw that. These elegant suits and dresses were made from material she supplied.

"You really should dress up a bit," Master Bob teased gently. He ran a finger down the long, leaf-green sleeve that hid her claws. "I know why you don't, but you still should from time to time. A lady deserves to feel beautiful after all." All of this he topped off with a pearly smile. Kyoka averted her gaze, shily shaking out her sleeves so they did not catch on anything. Her arms were free from elbow to shoulder, where her equally green vest began.

"I don't know," she lied, "this is comfortable." The vest and long, ochre skirt may not be the height of fashion, but they were nice. Easy to put on, easy to move in, and the skirt also covered her avian legs and feet.

Bob tsk'ed at her and waggled his thick finger. "My dear girl, one of these days I will get the girls together and doll you up. Even just once you will be the center of the room. The experience alone is worth feeling uncomfortable for a time."

Then he used his secret weapon.

"Please? For me?"

How a grown, middle-aged man in a pink sweatshirt and flobby pants could deploy puppy dog eyes with such devastating power, she would never know. Kyoka wanted to refuse, knowing she would never feel beautiful. She never wanted to be the center of attention ever again. But she just could not say no. A faintly annoyed growl rumbled in her throat as she slumped forward on the bar. "Alright, fine. But only once. And not right now," she pre-empted his predictable follow-up. "I need to make more deliveries. This was just a quick stop for lunch." A glance at her plate told Kyoka there was half a sausage left. She quickly gobbled it up. "And-oh-look-I'm-done-bye!"

Her tactical retreat from the premises was accompanied by chuckles. She all but flew through town to get back home and grab the final packages. Despite the promise she just gave, Kyoka smiled; despite everything, she was happy. The everpresent tome resting in the crook of her elbow flared as if to reaffirm that thought. A slew of foreign satisfaction fluttered through her.

After placing all the silk in her own item box and rejoicing at having learned this bit of magic once again, Kyoka went for the train station. The ride to Magnolia was not too long and she still had that book Jenny lent her. It was a bit too mushy for her own tastes, but good enough to waste an hour with.

Once the last page was read and the town appeared on the horizon, she could not help but become apprehensive. Magnolia was home to Fairy Tail. The Devourer lived here, as did Death. Priscilla, the master of Fairy Tail. At least Mirajane was absent until further notice and Magnolia was large. The chance to not recognise a six metres tall woman before she noticed Kyoka was slim.

"Maybe I should have sent it per mail," she mused quietly, but discarded the notion as soon as she said it. Not only did this method save on transport costs, it also allowed her to travel. Fiore had more than a few beautiful landmarks that she got to see like this. Magnolia itself sported one, too; nobody would mind if she climbed the grand cathedral after making her delivery, right?

In spite of her attempt to disperse worry with idle musings, it kept gnawing at the back of her mind. Her mood worsened some, but she managed to fake a smile when interacting with the elderly seamstress, a Madam Greene. She received praise and gratitude for the quick delivery, then was sent on her way with the payment secured. The entire trek to the shop was free of giant interruptions. In fact, the only guild mark she even saw was on a child, maybe eight years old. And that boy was too busy impressing his peers with basic fire magic.

So reassured, Kyoka was immediately blindsided by a tiny something colliding with her leg and clinging to it. A cheerful squeal accompanied them, making Kyoka flinch. Her head snapped down and she found herself staring into black eyes. A strong sense of recognition flickered through her entire being, one she never felt but always knew. Her eyes widened to comical degrees while the toddler giggled up at her.

"Oh, August! Let go, you can not do that!"

Another hand reached into her field of vision, gently prying the boy off of Kyoka. As she slowly left her trance, she was confronted by a wave of blonde hair. Quite alike to the shock on his head, at that. The diminutive woman held her squirming son with an embarassed smile. "I'm so sorry. He just keeps running off ever since he started walking."

"It's alright," Kyoka responded mechanically. Her eyes kept wandering to the boy. She knew who he was without a shadow of doubt. Her body sung, a silent demand to prostrate herself before the creator's child. Zeref's blood ran through his veins. Did the mother know?

"Are you okay?"

The question drew her from her musings. The other woman seemed concerned now, leaning forward. "You look a little out of it."

Which was when August escaped and grabbed Kyoka's sleeve. The mother smiled at that. "And it looks like he likes you. Come on, have a seat."

Without even waiting for a response, the lady maneuvered Kyoka to a nearby bench. Sandwiched between mother and son, she could not help but wonder how this came to be. Curiousity burned in her mind, almost as bright as the desire to flee this interaction. At the same time, she felt alive in a way she did not in years. Just being near him envigorated her.

"You already met my son August. I'm Mavis."

"...Kyoka. A pleasure." The words rang a little hollow, but niceties were easy enough to emulate. "Your boy is a curious one."

"Oh, you have no idea!" Mavis giggled, prompting August to do the same. The toddler cheerfully threw a handful of sparks in Kyoka's face, who leaned back in surprise. Mavis kept giggling. "Age doesn't stop him from learning magic just by looking at other wizards. He will be wonderful one day. Just like-"

She cut herself off there. Kyoka noticed, but pretended she had not. Instead she nodded along and focussed on what Mavis said. "I heard that active magic at such a young age can be detrimental on the child? Is he well?" The mere thought of him being under threat made her want to rend it apart. But how could she kill a condition caused by Ethernano?

Mavis thankfully nodded. "Frequent sick spells and a few fevers, but nothing dangerous. I have a few specialists who make sure of that. He is such a brave boy. Aren't you, August!"

"Yesh!"

Mavis cooed over her son, leaning past Kyoka to ruffle his hair. The show of affection made her yearn for such a touch as well. It was a small thing, yet more pure than anything she had ever experienced. The closest were her guild master and his kindness.

A warm breeze caressed her face and carried the dark thoughts away.

"Huh. How curious." A finger ran over her shoulder, where the blue pegasus settled. "You're a wizard, too." Mavis thankfully returned to her own spot before she fell into Kyoka's lap, but her impish grin remained. "You're the first Blue Pegasus wizard I see without suit or dress. How come?"

She shrugged weakly, unwilling to have that conversation again. "I like what I'm wearing."

"Oh. Okay. What about that book you carry? What's it about?"

"Um."

She hesitated. The cover of E.N.D.'s tome was hidden by her arm and sleeve, but she never let go of it. Mavis leaned closer to inspect it while Kyoka tried to come up with a believable lie. No one ever asked about the book.

Before her panicking could transition from internally to externally, Mavis delivered a convenient out: "Oh, is it a magic book?"

"Something like that, yes."

"Can I read it?"

Kyoka protectively clutched the tome to her chest. She never put it down, not since she took it from that pedestal. How could someone be this innocent and this aggravating at the same time? At least Mavis got the hint and retreated from Kyoka's personal space. "I guess that's a no. I'm sorry, I didn't know this is precious to you."

She dismissed the apology without even thinking about it. Mavis was not to blame, she just tried to make conversation. Kyoka was really not good at that anymore. Feeling a little guilty and self-concious, she wanted to at least appease her. "It's fine. This is, it... it belongs to someone dear to me."

It was not even a lie, inasmuch as a living book could belong to anyone. They were all Zeref's demons.

Thankfully, Mavis left it at that. Her understanding smile was misplaced, though. "Alright. Let's talk about something else then, what brings you all the way to Magnolia?"

This was easier to answer. Kyoka gladly took the offered change of subject and explained. "Oh, I was making a delivery to one of the local seamstresses. I'm producing silk, you see."

"Wow! That's awesome!" And she had an excitable blonde in her personal space again. "How does it work? What kind of magic do you use for that? Does it pay well?"

On and on the questions spewed forth, but for once Kyoka fielded them indulgently. This was not so bad. August lost interest in their conversation after some time and started to toddle around, however. Mavis' attention never left Kyoka, but the Etherious could tell she observed her son as well. Whenever he tried to run off, a band of rainbow light carried him back to where Mavis could see.

After some time spent explaining the minutiae of harvesting silk with her own methods, the other woman clapped her hands. "Oh, this is all so interesting! I want to hear more. But, err, I didn't have lunch yet. August needs some food in him too. How about we go to the guildhall and I treat you? You can't just come all the way and not drop in!"

That was the moment Kyoka realised a grave oversight. Right there on Mavis bare foot sat Fairy Tail's mark, pure crimson. She rose and made to get away, but a small hand firmly grabbed her arm around the sleeve. Mavis' smile was uncompromising and no amount of excuses could deter her. Kyoka was slowly but surely dragged to the last place she wanted to be. She only had enough presence of mind to not dislodge herself forcefully. Violence would only make this worse, especially with August on Mavis' other hand. Up the street and through the crowd, soon enough the guildhall came in sight.

"Come on, come on! Don't be shy!"

And Mavis somehow failed to realise what kind of state Kyoka was in. She dragged the faintly resisting Etherious all the way to the door and kicked it open.

Kyoka expected a vengeful spectre to cleave her in two again the moment people saw her. Contrary to her expectation, nothing happened. A few people welcomed Mavis back and some appreciative looks went her guest's way. If anything, August received more attention than the two of them combined.

Just because they failed to recognise her however, did not mean Kyoka did not recognise them. She remembered that muscled, grizzled man reading a book in a quiet corner. Several sheets of parchment and writing implements floated around him, a white coat not quite hiding the lack of an arm.

August toddled away to another pair, the man in poncho and wide-rimmed hat while the green-haired woman wore a wide dress to accomodate her bloated belly. He babbled at them excitedly and was welcomed with hugs and cuddles.

Kyoka clutched the tome closer to her chest, trying not to have a breakdown. She was still alive, she could move, the monster was not even in the room. Yet the mere probability of her presence left Kyoka on edge.

Once August had left and Mavis dragged her to a nearby table, people approached them. More than one commented that they thought they saw her before, but no one could figure out where. Kyoka would not know either, she never met any of them. Her helmet was long gone, allowing her to blend in somewhat. She carefully huddled nonetheless, hiding every glimpse of her feet beneath the skirt's folds. Mavis already ordered meals for the both of them, but her hands would be safe at least until the food arrived. Maybe Kyoka could morph them into something vaguely human for a time, regardless of the pain involved?

"Oh hey, a new face!"

Her head turned at being spoken to again. This time it was someone familiar, with light hair and a pink shirt. His easy smile dimmed the moment their eyes met. "Come now, don't be scared of little old me. Name's Jet. What brings you to these parts?"

"Kyoka's a silk merchant!" Mavis threw in cheerfully while Kyoka freaked out on the inside. "Madam Greene will have new stock soon, she just brought some for her!"

"Oh, neat." He laughed along and inclined his head her way. "So your name's Kyoka? ...wait." His brow furrowed and she frantically tried to remember if she gave her name that day. Then he looked down, and so did she. Her sleeves hid both hands. Looking back up she found Jet rubbing his eyes. When he looked at her again, he squinted.

Then, almost as if in a dream, he reached for her sleeves. The motion was so slow she could have stopped it a dozen times, but guilt and fear kept her frozen. He grabbed the cloth and pulled, revealing bone white claws. Mavis stopped in surprise, but the rest of the room paid little attention. Kyoka could not breathe, her chest constricted.

Then she flew. Her only instinct was to curl up around the book before her back hit the wall. Impact was too little to hurt her, but she kept lying under a rain of plaster. Mavis shouted something she could not parse, a moment later a second impact rained more dust on her. Jet dropped down right in front of Kyoka.

"What were you thinking!" Mavis demanded while grabbing Kyoka's shoulder and helping her up. It was oh so tempting to stay on the ground, but she forced herself to rise.

When he shouted back at her, Kyoka regretted getting up. "She's a demon, that's what I'm thinking! The same one that almost killed us a few years back!"

Now they had the entire room's attention. Mavis paused before slowly turning her head. She sought Kyoka's gaze, but the Etherious could not meet her eyes. She tried to move, tugging ever so faintly on Mavis' hand, and freed herself. The blonde let go out of surprise more than anything.

Before she made more than two steps, a tremor ran through the wooden floor. Then a voice sounded, one she would never, ever forget.

"What exactly are you all shouting about?"

Kyoka's head snapped around so fast she cracked her neck. There she stood in an oversized doorframe. Larger than life itself and twice as merciless. The Etherious' body locked up entirely in primal fear, unable to so much as whimper. All thought left her mind at the sight of her, unable to avert her gaze. All she could was hope she went unrecognised, pray to dead gods she never believed in.

Alas, the moment those amber eyes focussed on her and her torn sleeve, she was recognised. Vague concern morphed into surprise, then something cold and vicious. Silence reigned as Kyoka failed to look away, to get her legs to move. Anything at all, really. Priscilla began to stalk toward her, tail flicking erratically. Her hand reached sideways as if to grasp a weapon not yet drawn. Such fear struck Kyoka that she managed a single step back, stumbling over her own feet and falling heavily. No pain registered. She almost lost hold of the book, what with how slack her arms were.

And then there was fire.

It blossomed from her side, forming a wall between herself and Priscilla. The dragon stopped in surprise while a heatwave forced back everyone else. The protective warmth shocked Kyoka's system, finally freeing her of the terror; she scrambled to her feet and fled as fast as she could. Instinctual motions contorted her body, vest torn apart as a pair of wings painfully sprouted from her back. She did not care for anything beyond the gate that promised safety. Nobody reacted in time to pursue.

The moment her clawed feet hit cobblestone, Kyoka ducked and leapt fifty metres into the air. Erratic wingbeats carried her higher and away.

Meanwhile, the hall she left behind was quiet. Priscilla stood at the entrance, aghast as she stared after the rapidly shrinking figure up high. Mavis felt much the same, wondering just how all of this could have happened.

Apparently, their confusion was shared by everyone else. "What the hell?" Jet wondered out loud. "That was definitely her, but she was completely different."

"Yeah," a pale Elfman added. He absently rubbed the stump of his arm, telling Mavis exactly who was responsible for that. She never got that kind of impression from Kyoka. At all. After a moment, she decided to say it.

"She didn't seem like she would hurt a fly."

Neither man had an answer to her implied question. An air of confusion covered the entire crowd.

When even the current master appeared at a loss for words, Mavis poked her knee for attention. "Jewel for your thoughts?"

The answer was not what she expected: "I do not understand how she is alive." Priscilla frowned, unaware of the dumbfounded looks her comment earned. "I know I killed her and there is no coming back from my Death magic. Yet somehow, this Kyoka survived. I delivered her corpse to Mirajane in person."

The implications became clear to Mavis in an instant. If all of Tartaros had a means to escape death, that gave them an unlimited number of powerful bodies to throw at any problem.

A muttered "Thanks, Zeref" from someone in the crowd soured her mood right after, to the point she grabbed August and left. Mavis only returned to the entire conundrum hours later, but then it remained firmly in her mind for days. Kyoka was a little awkward but nice, not to mention August loved her. Did her son somehow recognise the Etherious for what she was? Could he tell?

That as well as the apparent ability to revive drew Mavis to investigate. Dressing her toddler in a set of adorable travel clothes, she bought a ticket for the train. Her destination was easily determined with what she knew; Kyoka was a member of Blue Pegasus, a fact everyone else thankfully missed over the entire drama.

Walking through the door, she immediately realised her mistake. A half dozen hosts and half as many hostesses greeted her with dazzling smiles and immaculate dress. Thoroughly embarassed and envious, she was almost thankful when the women spotted August and began to coo over him. The mood rapidly shifted and she managed to push back on her embarassment. "I'm looking for Master Bob. Is he in?"

"Over here, dearie! It's been a while!" The man himself waved cheerfully and his men backed off with smiles and nods. Mavis cast a glance to her son, who was perfectly safe on the lap of one of their models. Only then did she approach the bar where Bob passed her a glass of juice. "What brings you here today, Mavis?"

"I'm looking for someone," she explained kindly. His smile was infectious. "One of yours, I'm sure. Her name is Kyoka."

Had his expression just dimmed? Indeed it had, the ever-smiler began to frown. "Curious, that," he responded, more thoughtful than anything else. "I have not seen her the last few days."

Mavis suddenly had a bad feeling. "Since when exactly?"

"Monday, I think." Exactly the day they met in Magnolia. Thankfully, Bob did not make the connection. Or if he did, he did not say.

"She may be at home," one of the hosts chimed in. "That happens sometimes. I can walk you there if you want?"

"I appreciate the offer, but I would rather go myself." The conversation she planned to have was better had in private. Not to mention Mavis felt a little unwell having so many attractive people around. "Where does she live?"

They helpfully gave her directions and Bob insisted on foisting a sandwich on her. She then had to rescue August from a blissed-out Jenny, privately pleased when he immediately came to her instead of staying with the beauty. He still waved goodbye to everyone, sweet thing that he was.

The trek to Kyoka's homestead, a remote farm close to the woods, was eventless. Beyond her son toddling through every puddle he could find after the rainstorm that night. Mavis indulged him and cleaned up afterward, at least until the farm came into view.

From then on, she carefully crept forward. Kyoka did not seem hostile, but that may not mean anything. On top of that, she somehow thought it a good idea to bring her child in reach of an Etherious. For a moment Mavis strongly considered to turn around. But when she noticed the door standing ajar, she shot caution to the wind and crept inside. A sturdy wooden house opened itself to her.

Two steps in, she stopped and reconsidered what she just did. Ushering August back outside after putting a noise-cancelling spell on him, Mavis firmly rapped her knuckles on the door. Then again, and again. To no response.

"Kyoka? Are you home?"

Again, nothing. Engaging her more ethereal sense, Mavis knew there was a person-sized concentration of Ethernano inside. So she entered, traversing a messy living room; clothes lay on the ground, but no food or anything perishable. From there she entered a modest bedroom where she found Kyoka after all. Or, at least she found someone hiding under a thick blanket, shivering.

"Kyoka?"

They did not react to her name, even when August called a garbled echo. Mavis cautiously settled next to the lump of blanket and pulled it off. What she found immediately made her feel awful for suspecting something bad. There was Kyoka, rocking back and forth with a book clutched to her chest. She did not even acknowledge Mavis, shivering infrequently. The sight broke her heart a little. How could this be the same being that attacked her Fairies?

"Hey. It's okay, you're safe."

While no response came, Kyoka did react to an attempt of touching her shoulder. She screamed, leaping off the bed and into the nearest wall. Mavis blinked after her while August gabbled in surprise. Kyoka landed on all fours, head swivelling wildly before focussing on the intruders. Mavis was only half-risen, reaching for her magic just in case.

Thankfully, a quiet murmur of "I'm alive" announced Kyoka's return to coherence. She hesitated, frowned, and then broke into bitter tears. Claws covering her face and still in the torn clothes she wore that day, the Etherious made for a miserable sight. Mavis threw caution to the wind again and wrapped her in the biggest hug she could give. After seeing what his mother did, August mimicked her actions. The book Kyoka still held pulsed a pleasant warmth, dispersing even Mavis' heavy mood somewhat.

After a long while, the tears stopped. Kyoka fell slack, cradled by a smaller woman and a toddler. "I wish I could take it all back," she whispered desperately. Not that Mavis needed any more confirmation. She gave her some more time before occupying the other woman's kitchen. After pouring them both tea, Mavis joined her tentative friend at the table. August settled in her lap.

"I'm sure they will forgive you if you apologise properly."

A faint headshake was the answer she got. "I, I can't. I can't go there. She's, I, I can't." Kyoka shuddered violently, large eyes seeking Mavis' gaze. "I don't want to die."

Mavis ran a hand through her blonde tresses, worried as well as curious. "Just what happened to you to change you so?" She was nothing at all like anyone imagined an Etherious. Nothing at all like Tartaros acted.

Kyoka needed a moment to register her question, but then she chuckled mirthlessly. "Foolish notions of superiority do not survive being slaughtered like cattle," she spat. Her bitterness made Mavis wince, giving Kyoka the chance to change the subject. Her gaze lowered to the toddler grabbing for his mother's teacup. "Your son. Do you know who his father is?"

Mavis froze, long enough to give herself away. Kyoka heaved a heavy sigh, clutching the book tighter to her chest. "So you do. A word of warning then, all Etherious can instinctively recognise their creator. And I can tell apart his descendant at but a glance. Keep him far away from the other Etherious. The desire to serve is strong, but seeing him raised by 'lesser' humans will gall them greatly."

Mavis nodded, hugging August tighter to herself. He squirmed a little, but proved unable to escape.

When the silence dragged on, Kyoka fidgeted. "Do you, perhaps, know where he is?"

"He passed away," Mavis answered, almost robotically. Both of them were teary-eyed now. "He never even got to meet his son."

"My condolences. I suspected already, but to have it confirmed." Kyoka slumped, displaying more openly how Mavis felt. It still hurt terribly to be reminded.

Conversation dried up after that point. Kyoka ultimately saw her guests to the door and wandered off to tend to her silk worms. She never quite recovered her mood, which did not help Mavis any. But there was nothing she could do beside giving it time. It took until hours later to realise she forgot inquiring about the revival. Jet, Droy, and Elfman all took the fact Kyoka felt miserable about her past deeds with mixed feelings. Priscilla only frowned, giving nothing away.

Mavis did not dig this time. She was too busy pondering what it meant for August that all Etherious could recognise him. If even just one spoke Zeref's name out loud, there would be a storm coming her way. She really hoped for it not to happen. Because deep down, Mavis knew she was not a good person. If someone threatened her baby boy, she would readily torch all of Earthland to protect him.

 

[NightmareWarden]

It blossomed from her side, forming a wall between herself and Priscilla. The dragon stopped in surprise while a heatwave forced back everyone else. The protective warmth shocked Kyoka's system, finally freeing her of the terror;

Click to shrink...

I don't understand where the fire came from. Is there a fire-based protection on the book due to its connection to Natsu? Did a guild member deliberately use fire to halt Priscilla?

Isn't Natsu an Etherious? I'm curious if his interactions with August over the years have born any fru-...
Oh. Natsu and a lot of the guild are still frozen on Tenrou. Erza's the only one who got out, that's right.

You know, the status of Dusk, Ciara and Erza hasn't come up recently; as we saw, Quelana has stuck around her sister. Doubtful Dusk or Ciara joined the guild, but they could join another. That would make the eventual Grand Magic Games interesting. Though I expect the tournament will take a very different from here.

I have an incredibly unlikely prediction...

Spoiler: August

When Tenrou reappears, one or more astral spirits will summon themselves to reunite with Lucy. And Lucy will summon. A few more, likely Loki at least, she will summon normally to reconnect with Fairy Tail. And August will see these spirits and the magic used to summon them, and it will have an important effect on him.
I think... That my ideal end for Tartaros is that August eventually banishes them to the same realm as the celestial spirits. Their separation from Zeref's heir will be the major punishment for them (for their wanton murder) because that is basically all they will care about once they see him... But it is also a final chance for them. Just as Zeref contracted with the celestial spirits, August (and Mavis?) will use a contract to bind the wills of the demons, limiting them if they ever return to Earth.
Basically, humans will indeed be able to learn to summon Etherious just like celestial spirits. And Etherious will be free to reject summons- why would they want to meet or work with a worthless human after all?
But ultimately, this is the only existence left for the Etherious. Eternal isolation in the spirts' realm, free from humans, or contract with humans to atone.

 

[Naron]

I don't understand where the fire came from. Is there a fire-based protection on the book due to its connection to Natsu? Did a guild member deliberately use fire to halt Priscilla?

Click to shrink...

The book is sapient in its own right even without Natsu around. It went and protected Kyoka when she could not protect herself.

That aside, Ciaran and Dusk are... around. Erza's crew is not really doing anything that requires showing.

 

[Naron]

"In the end, it is our choices and disposition that decide who we become in life. Whether we can become proud of who we are. Magic is never an excuse for evil; it never forces us to anything. I always hoped for an age in which everyone becomes the best they can be and will continue to do so. Perhaps these notes will aid in such an endeavour one day."

-excerpt from "The Love of Magic", afterword

---

December 788. A bit more than three years passed since the majority of her youngsters and Makarov vanished from Tenrou Island.

Right now, guild master Priscilla was uncertain how to proceed; she pondered the conundrum of the dark guild Tartaros, as she often did these days. Their rampage across Ishgar continued and became ever more daring. Foreign guilds, wizards, bounty hunters, mercenaries all, went to call them to battle. Every single one was eradicated. Then Tartaros made their statement by counterattacking their home bases and hometowns. No quarter was given to anyone, be they man, woman, or child.

Tension grew in Fiore as well, even though they still kept their distance. Once again Priscilla wondered if she should interrogate Kyoka. But Mavis would not like that, she knew. By all accounts, Etherious Kyoka was reformed and no longer a threat. Mavis assured her that the other woman did not even know what her erstwhile companions were doing.

Remembering her awful reaction to the mere sight of Priscilla, she put the matter aside. Even if she were willing to inflict more existential dread, Kyoka would have no answers.

"If only we could figure out a pattern," she mused toward Mavis, who was brooding over a map of the continent. "Then I could take care of them."

Her companion grimaced at said map. A flick of her wrist erased the many arrows and circles she drew to start anew. Dozens of reports fluttered around her, just as agitated as she. "Nothing!" she seethed. "There is no pattern, Pris! I can't predict something that isn't there!" She threw away her charcoal in disgust. It shattered against the wall. "It's like they throw darts at a map!"

The dragon was about to console her, but thought better of it. As she learned from Warrod, Mavis Vermillion-Dragneel was the continent's most famous strategist. Evidently, her pride would make any consolation be interpreted as pity. So rather she engaged the statement itself: "Is there nothing at all you could glean from the reports?"

Mavis despondently blew a strand of hair from her face. "All I found is that no country is hit twice in a row and never Fiore. Everything else is as random as it can be." She rubbed her forehead next, groaning. "If they gave me something to work with or stayed in one spot long enough for us to respond...."

"But they do not, which is what makes this so aggravating." Priscilla agreed wholeheartedly. Even her teleportation was limited to areas she visited before or could imagine vividly. Being guild master, she could not venture out for long to expand her range. Not to mention she was needed nearby in case Tartaros came to Fiore after all. "Then there are the casualties their retribution for the attempt would cause."

"Casualties aren't even the biggest problem," Mavis countered. A spell circle appeared over the dark spot on the wall, restoring her charcoal stick. It flew back into her hand as she gestured. "Their raids are starting to destabilise economies across the continent. Famines are on the horizon, new wars for resources."

She had not considered that. For all her accumulated knowledge, Priscilla still lacked a great deal of insight on human society. "So we are running out of time," she surmised, to a nod. Her own brow creased in thought. "Perhaps a more active approach, then? Wendy and Flare are formidable. If we convinced their team to scout for Tartaros' position and report back?"

The trio turned into frequent visitors of late. They appeared in Magnolia every other week to study and request information. Priscilla did not like making the suggestion, but they were mobile and more than appalled by Tartaros' actions. Mavis did not shoot her down immediately, either. She pondered the idea for precious seconds before shaking her head.

"Too uncertain. They are not fast enough to follow a trail, even if they find one. And if the Etherious find them, well. I don't like their odds. They're barely better than the odds of coincidentally stumbling over Tartaros."

"So we are still at square one," Priscilla muttered. She was just as unhappy as Mavis. Perhaps more so. She was Everlasting, yet felt so incredibly powerless that her temper flared ever more of late. Only a lifetime of temperance kept her somewhat calm.

"At least life goes on as normal around Fiore," Mavis said in an attempt to lighten the mood. She was not even wrong, what with how distant the danger was.

Five months later, in early May, that changed. A small village went out in a firestorm that set a vast woodland ablaze. Worth Woodsea burned, soon reduced to a plain of ash. Only the mighty archtree remained in its expanse, now a sight reminiscent of the calamitous war which shook a more primal world.

Priscilla only heard about it days later. It was too late to prevent the strike against Fiore by then. She was one of the first to yet another devastated village. This time a dozen crucified bodies delivered a clear message, carved into their flesh: the terror would not end until the traitor Kyoka was handed over.

Suddenly, she felt very stupid. The thought that Kyoka may be their traitor never even crossed her mind. That one acted so pathetic the last time they met that she instinctively discarded her as irrelevant. The moment she brought word of all this back home, Mavis pushed August into her lap and ran for the train station. Priscilla did not even have time to remind her of teleportation.

Meanwhile, the Blue Pegasus guildhall was abuzz with frantic conversation. News of the attack hit like a bomb. Kyoka herself felt faint at the news; her family was busy the last years and she barely even noticed. So absorbed in her new hobbies and pastimes that she paid no attention to the news. Barely speaking with others did its part in keeping her unaware. Even now it hurt to think of everyone she left behind.

And now they were here. She kept her head down and let conversation roll over her like waves. The fear of being found returned with a vengeance. She wanted to stay in obscurity, keep hiding away until they left. She knew she hurt them, but the mere thought of facing them made her everything ache.

"Everyone, calm down!" Master Bob pleaded. The panicked chatter quieted somewhat, but it did not fade. He ran a hand over his face. "I heard your opinions, but this is bigger than Oracion Seis was. I still want to reform the coalition, the Council's opinion be damned, but this isn't just my decision."

"But what if they come for us?" A voice called from the crowd. "You know how brutal those beasts are, they'll kill all of us!"

"Yeah, why don't we do our thing and fund the others to do the fighting?"

Bob's expression was thunderous, but he cut off his rebuke before it could begin. A worried look went her way, making it clear he figured out the parts she never told anyone. And from there, Kyoka realised several others were glancing her way, too. How many of them made the connection?

"Wait, who are you? The guildhall is closed."

Jenny's wary question shifted attention away from her. The model's gaze was focussed on a hooded stranger leaning against the wall. Kyoka needed a moment to turn her head, only to freeze when her eyes fell on them. An Etherious without doubt. She knew instinctively, even before he threw back his hood to reveal familiar features. A shock of blond hair, canine ears sprouting from his head, and a smattering of dark spots around his eyes. Sharp fangs were displayed in a cheshire grin.

"Why," Jackal responded with a mocking bow, "just a humble visitor to this fine guild. Do you happen to have seen a stray Etherious?"

Kyoka tensed when his eyes flickered to her. Strangely, he did not acknowledge her despite knowing she was right there. No one else answered him, though some began to channel Ethernano. "No? Oh well." He turned back to Jenny with a mischievous wink. "Funny how it took you like ten minutes to notice me in the room, sweetheart. Oh, how unfortunate that my old pal Kyoka isn't around. She'd absolutely remember what my favourite thing is."

The last sentence was uttered as he stared her straight in the eyes. Kyoka realised belatedly what he meant and her eyes widened. So did his grin, losing all its jovialty.

"Oops."

She had no time to prevent it. Everything exploded, drowning Kyoka's world into fire, ash, and gore. Her own shell held, but her friends were nowhere near as strong. She threw herself onto the nearest person to shield them with her body, blinded by the light. She shivered atop them, kicking herself for having forgotten Jackals explosive handprints. What remained of the roof came down with a resounding crash right after.

When her ears stopped ringing, all she could hear were the moans of the dying. They were quickly drowned out by hysteric laughter. Jackal clapped his hands as if he just heard the world's funniest joke.

Ignoring him, Kyoka forced her head up to survey the carnage. Her nose itched from the nauseating mix of smoke and blood, but the sight was worse. Her heart skipped a beat when she beheld Master Bob's motionless upper half. The dead and dying were strewn across the room, some arms and legs sticking out from beneath the rubble.

"Ah well," Jackal told the room cheerfully, "I must have missed her among the rabble. Not that it matters, the Devourer isn't even here anymore. Well." He turned to leave, not even acknowledging Kyoka staring at him. "If anyone sees our lost friend, let her know to come find us. We have some catching up to do. But until then I'm going to have some more fun."

Fear and fury warred within her. Her eyes twitched, then her entire body began to shiver in incoherent rage. Everything she built for herself, the friends she made, all turned to ash in an instant. But even now she could not bring herself to pursue, to fight. She could only rear back and scream out her anguish.

 

[Naron]

Mavis knew everything went to hell before her train even arrived. A dark cloud hung all over town and the lands beyond; fires still raged in some places. She leapt out the window because the tracks were destroyed, hopping over the crowds. The devastation grew more pronounced the closer she got to Blue Pegasus. Less and less people obstructed her path, though she heard whispers of a bloodcurdling scream following the explosion. In Mavis' mind, it could only belong to one person.

She forced herself through the rubble of what was once a guildhall, only to find a scene of carnage. Even the war had been nowhere near this visceral to her as a strategist; the sheer amount of blood and gore hit her like a punch to the gut. And that sickly sweet smell, tangy and heavy. Mavis heaved, then bent over and lost her lunch. She felt no better afterward, stomach contracting as if to force out more.

Forcing her way to her feet, Mavis let the shock persist and numb her senses. She finally spotted Kyoka, bent over an unconcious Jenny. A bloody stump remained of the model's left leg; it regrew over the span of a minute under Kyoka's ministrations. The sight inspired what little awe Mavis could muster, regardless of how repulsive it was to behold. She shuddered, staggering forward to Kyoka's side. The Etherious did not acknowledge her presence. She placed Jenny at the only wall still standing. A dozen others were already set down there, their clothes so torn Mavis could vividly imagine the wounds they once sported. Every single one stared numbly at the ruins of their home.

The shock began to fade and she barely managed not to retch again. Feebly squeezing Kyoka's arm, Mavis found her voice: "C-Can I help?"

The other woman paused for a heartbeat, head swivelling this way and that. Then she shook her head. "All gone," she murmured before mutely beginning to arrange the dead. Mavis joined her, levitating debris away so she could get at the bodies. It was grisly work and she threw up bile in-between, but she soldiered on.

Knights arrived at some point during their silent work, dumbstruck as well as horrified by what they found. The commander quickly set everyone to work, carrying out the formerly wounded and covering the dead already dug out. Mavis did not know their names, but she was grateful nonetheless. They worked by her side without comment or question, a display of camraderie. One man lent her a waterskin and some cloth to clean out her mouth. It helped, though she was still a mess afterward; covered in soot, dust, and dried blood.

In the end however, it was only the two of them left. Kyoka gave no answer when questions were asked. When the knights left them be, Mavis remained by her friend's side. They stared at the ruins of what was Blue Pegasus mere hours ago. Up and gone faster than the eye could see. The guild was all but finished, Mavis knew. Four fifths of theirs were dead, including the master and most senior members.

Her mind slowly turned to the subject of how to proceed when a whisper broke the grave silence: "This has to end."

Kyoka was shaking, expression warring between despair and incoherent rage. The book in her arms gleamed in response, emanating warmth and a sense of anger. Mavis wordlessly embraced her friend, holding her as tight as she could. "It will end," she promised the unresponsive woman. "Come on, let's go."

She gently tugged Kyoka's hand and led her away. Finding a train took only a few minutes. She paid it no mind, leading her friend to a free pair of seats. Nobody bothered them, though it took Mavis half an hour to realise why: they were both dirty and bloody. Kyoka's clothes were more strands of cloth than anything else and her own were torn. But even when she took notice of that, she could not care enough to do anything about it. Her attention was on Kyoka, who stared out the window without comprehending much of the journey.

Perhaps this was for the best. Kyoka gave no protest when they disembarked in Magnolia, nor when they entered Fairy Tail's guildhall. Their arrival created a great deal of surprised noises and worry, but Mavis waved everyone off. Then she sat down her friend at a table, taking her hand. No one started anything this time; Elfman kept studying the Etherious, still pale but mostly curious. Jet peered at her with mixed feelings also while Droy ran into the back. He returned with a thick blanket to throw over Kyoka. Alicia brought a bowl of water to wash at least their hands and faces with.

Heavy steps soon announced Priscilla. The current master entered without fanfare, but interrupted herself before the first word was out. The sound of her voice still alerted Kyoka, who flinched. Yet she did not freeze up, cradling the book against her chest. After a moment of scrutiny, Priscilla inclined her head. Then she addressed the room: "Tartaros is moving in the open now. As of ten minutes ago, they took Crocus hostage and placed their flying base above the city."

Kyoka shuddered again. Mavis soothingly rubbed her claws to little effect.

"What do we do now?" Mystogan inquired. He already shouldered his staves, clearly ready in case Priscilla called on him. Mavis liked the idea of an actual assault at this point, regardless of the risks. They had the firepower, even if she refused the S-rank thus far. They needed to act soon either way, considering Tartaros appeared in the open.

However, Priscilla had other ideas. "I can take care of it now. This ends today."

"Please don't."

The voice was quiet, shaky, but it was heard nonetheless. The room quieted as all eyes turned to Kyoka. The Etherious was staring at the table, unable to meet anyone's gaze. "It would be too cruel, to make them end up like me." She chanced a glance and shuddered heavily the moment her eyes met Priscilla's. Mavis watched in worry, but her friend firmed up with a scowl. "But you are right. It has to end."

Kyoka had no fighting spirit left, Mavis knew that. Yet here she was, all but ready to seek battle. It would be cruel to push her further but they had precious few options.

Then a flash of heat permeated the room. Its source was once again the book in Kyoka's arms. Only this time, the warmth carried with it an undercurrent of determination and anger. The entire guild sat or stood a bit more straight. All eyes were on the book now.

"I was meaning to ask," Priscilla began after a long moment, "what is with this tome?"

Kyoka stared first at her, then at the book, and gently placed it on the table. "Etherious are anchoured to their books," she explained in her usual soft voice. "They contain our essence. As long as they exist, we can be restored. We keep reviving no matter what. Destroying the book does not kill the current us, but it cuts off our restoration. Only master Zeref would know how to restore a destroyed tome."

The mere mention of his name sent a nervous twitch through the room. Mavis' mood sunk another fraction, as did Priscilla's, but no one noticed. The information they just received was worth its weight in gold; why did she never ask? Why did she try to be polite? And why did Zeref's books say nothing about this little tidbit?

"So this is your book?" Mystogan inquired calmly. He wandered over to stand by their table, studying the cover. Kyoka shook her head.

"No. This one is mine." She drew another tome out of her chest, badly damaged. It was placed next to the other. The cover read C.K.R., as opposed to the pristine one's E.N.D..

"What do the initials stand for?" Mavis could not help but ask. "And why is yours so... torn?"

Kyoka threw her a mirthless smile. "Creator Kyoka Restoration. I do not know what master E.N.D.'s initials mean, only he would. As for my book's state, well." She threw a look to Priscilla, too tired to even be scared. "It ended up like this after my last death."

"I see. So the Lifehunt could not quite cut that far in a single strike." Her musings still produced a flinch. The dragon paid it no mind. "Is it common to carry another Etherious' tome with you?"

"N-No," Kyoka denied shakily. Her claws absently ran over the black book, drawing sparks from it. "I took it with me when I left Tartaros. He, master E.N.D., he disagrees with them like I do." The tome flared in response, finally cluing Mavis in that it was actually aware. Then it pulsed a palpable sense of content for some reason. A journey concluded, destination reached.

Even Kyoka glanced back in surprise. "Fairy Tail? This is the place you sought?"

When another flare announced agreement, Priscilla's expression changed. Only Mavis saw, what with her attention between the two in case a fight broke out. The dragon's curiousity morphed into surprise and then understanding. She made no motion to share her epiphany, though. Mavis considered calling her on it, but with Etherious involved she decided to do it in private.

"What's E.N.D. stand for?" Elfman ventured quietly. He kept a healthy distance between himself and Kyoka, but her crestfallen appearance seemingly dispersed most of his reservations. "Didn't know Zeref's into silly puns."

Mavis almost laughed. If only that boy knew how much Zeref loved his puns. Or, at least he did a hundred years ago.

Kyoka was unaware, rather more occupied with the question itself. After a moment, she had to hang her head. "I would like to know that myself," she admitted. "None of us know and the king has never revealed himself to us. We located him somewhere in Fiore a few years back, but where he is exactly or what he looks like...." She shrugged helplessly.

As if in response, the tome's cover flapped open. Light poured out, a smog that filled the hall to surprised shouts. It emanated a feeling of questions answered and warmth. A moment later, Mavis stood alone in a lush forest. Or, well, not quite alone.

Before her was that same book, closed and as pristine as the one Kyoka possessed. Only this time Zeref held it under his arm. Before him perched a crimson-scaled dragon, easily the size of their guildhall. A scar ran over their left eye and sharp teeth were bared.

"You're certain?" the great beast asked in a reverberating growl. "Once our work concludes, there will be no more fire dragons to set you free. Atlas Flame remains, but he is too far diminished to burn away Ankhseram's curse."

"I am," the much younger Zeref confirmed with a faint smile. "The pain we have to inflict on these children will be for naught if Eclipse fails. I need to remain and ensure another opens the gate on the other side."

Mavis' heart clenched at hearing his voice, exactly like it was when she met him. Tears clouded her vision, but she soldiered on to see what the tome meant to show her.

"Then I accept your sacrifice and curse Acnologia forevermore. May his remains be hung out to rot, never to know cleansing flames." The dragon, Igneel, heaved a sigh and shook himself. His body flickered, almost losing coherence before becoming physical again. "Damn it," he grumbled, then focussed on Zeref again. "Now where is mine? You already brought the other two to Grandine and Metalicana, no?"

His head turned this way and that, but no other human could be found. Zeref allowed himself a faint smile and raised the book. Mavis understood at once.

Igneel, however, stared at the black cover incredulously.

"Zeref?"

"Yes?"

"That's a book."

Even though his chuckle sent another pang of hurt through Mavis' chest, she giggled along. Streamers of colourful light flowed from his fingertips and into the tome, drawing out a boy. A perfectly ordinary child with short, pink hair. He was fast asleep and carefully deposited on the dumbfounded dragon's paw. Igneel stared down at him, sniffing audibly.

"This boy smells of fire like no human should. Yet a trace of you is there also. What have you done?"

Now Zeref's smile grew brittle. He ran his hand over young Natsu's head. "This, my friend, is the reason I am cursed. I could not accept his death, preserved his soul, and reformed it into a new body. I defeated death, in a sense. At least close enough to draw Ankhseram's ire. But I made too many mistakes. The conversion cost most of our memories together. He will not even remember his own brother."

Zeref paused to wipe away a tear. Mavis wanted to hug him so bad she tried anyway, but flew right through him. Her point of view reset to where she stood before as he continued: "And now I will do this onto him. Some further adjustments imbued powerful magical properties and an inclination to fire. He will be our king piece and the stake through Acnologia's rotten heart. A fire devil, raised by the king of all fire dragons. At his side we place a shield of iron molded by Metalicana and a fleeting healer prepared by Grandine."

"Is that why the book says E.N.D.?"

"Heh. Almost, but also yes. He is the desired end of Acnologia. And if no other means can be found to lift my curse, he will one day remove me from this world as well. It felt appropriate, all things considered. E.N.D., Etherious Natsu Dragneel."

He stroked the sleeping boy's head again and turned to leave, tome in hand. "And remember: six hundred and sixty six days exactly."

The scene lost coherence on those words, depositing her back in the guild hall. E.N.D.'s, Natsu's book snapped shut, leaving behind dazed silence.

"Natsu?" Macao asked weakly. "It's Natsu? Our Natsu?"

"Seems like it," Wakaba added thoughtfully. He took a drag from his pipe. "Everyone saw that, right? Wasn't just me?"

His question remained unanswered, seeing that Kyoka broke into haltless giggles. She hugged herself, shaking helplessly like leaves in the wind. Mavis stared at her and reached out slowly, calling her friend's name. Kyoka did not react until Mavis' hand touched her shoulder. "This is," she began haltingly, interrupted by renewed giggles. "All this time we searched. Us fools, expecting destruction in the king's wake. And every time we look here, it was you lot. Every time. And now it turns out, he was with you all along! Hidden in plain sight, the most innocently destructive group on Ishgar!"

She almost dropped to the table, somewhere between laughing and crying. Mavis saw many fidget in embarassment and felt a little herself. In the end she merely rubbed Kyoka's back until the Etherious calmed down.

The only one not surprised was Priscilla. Mavis resolved to bring this up once they had time. For now, though... "Now that this question is answered," although she had dozens more, such as if the tome was still connected to Natsu or its own entity, "what do we do about Tartaros?"

Silence answered her. Many were uncertain, some more already decided but did not want to be the first to speak. Then a hand squeezed hers, rough claws scratching skin. Kyoka studied her from below. "There is one way to pacify Tartaros, potentially. The creator's word is our command... and the same should go for his flesh and blood."

Her proposal registered and was refused instantly. Mavis scowled at the mere idea of taking her baby boy into such danger on a mere assumption.

Priscilla barely saved her from saying something incriminating: "Alas, Natsu is not present. Regardless of whether he actually still counts, considering what we just saw."

Mavis wordlessly shook her head at Kyoka while everyone looked elsewhere. The other woman inclined her head in acceptance and rose. "Then I will take my leave now. It is about time I face the music."

She did not look happy, but no one stopped her. Mavis wanted to, but what could she say? At the very least she immediately made to follow her friend. Priscilla did similarly, if at a distance.

Halfway out however, Kyoka paused. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before turning around. Elfman in turn took a step back when she approached him. "What are you- hey!" He flinched violently when her claw touched him. The whole guild tensed. Cloth tore under precise strikes, revealing the healed stump of his arm.

"Righting at least one of my countless sins before the end." Kyoka replied. A black spell circle popped into existence. Ethernano flowed through the frozen man in perfectly even waves. His flesh bubbled and Elfman moaned in pain. Then it began to grow. Even Mavis, who saw it just earlier that day, watched in awe as the entire limb was restored in the span of a minute. Perfectly pristine, as if it were never gone.

Once it was done, Elfman stared at his shaking hand. It opened and closed weakly, barely making a fist. Kyoka sighed softly and turned to leave. "My magic does not restore the deteriorated muscle memory, I'm afraid," she explained in parting. "You will need to relearn how to use it. I'm sorry."

Mavis wordlessly took her hand at the gate and Priscilla loomed over them. The dragon bent down to wipe away her tears, both for the kindness offered and the memory of her beloved. Then she offered a single finger to the intimidated Kyoka. "I see now you are indeed a changed woman."

The Etherious clasped it weakly after some coaxing from Mavis, which prompted a faint smile. "I will teleport us to Crocus now. You will not face them alone. I owe you at least this much. Now that I know my Lifehunt is inadequate for the task, I need to discuss the matter with someone."

Priscilla grimaced as she spoke of her own power and channelled Ethernano. Kyoka grew tense for a second, but remained in place. Mavis squeezed her hand gently and... they fell through nothingness for a fleeting moment, then they were there. Standing on a sprawling meadow at the foot of a small hill. Tartaros' flying boulder hung right above them, casting its shadow upon the land.

"Missed the sweet spot again," Priscilla muttered, then strode off and motioned them to follow. "Needs more work."

Mavis did not need long to recognise Wendy's lands. The roughly built stone house on top of the hill was a dead giveaway. Kyoka studied their surroundings warily, continuously glancing up to her erstwhile home. Mavis hurried her along regardless, hoping they went unnoticed.

Soon enough a wave of palpable anger distracted them. It parted before Priscilla like a wave, but laid over Mavis' mind like thick fog. Kyoka began to shiver, absently squeezing her hand back. "What is this place?" she inquired, but received no response. Priscilla led them down the slope into the cavern, where an actual dragon and a dragon-to-be were pacing. Both stopped on their entrance, heads snapping to the crossbreed.

"See, there she is!" Flare leapt to her feet, hair ablaze and roaring all around her. "Can we burn them now?"

Yukino and Solano both rolled their eyes at that while Wendy growled assent. The witches, both Quelana and Quelaan, remained uninvolved at the sidelines.

"Afraid not," Priscilla cut off the worrying debate they were not privy to. She approached Kalameet. "From what I learned, Etherious possess special safeguards to revive, no matter how often they are killed. We need to devise a counter strategy first."

"And we can't bring any forces here without provoking a fight," Solano added primly, "which, if I may remind you all, would happen right next to a hundred thousand civilians." She pointed over her shoulder, in the direction of Crocus. Mavis winced in sympathy as the math did itself in her head.

"They will attack anyway if we wait too long," Flare argued back heatedly. And she was right. However, Mavis' considerations quickly revealed that neither side could be disregarded.

"How about," she suggested slily, "I call in two old friends and we destroy them before they know what hit them? I doubt you can reverse-engineer an Etherious this quickly," she added in the direction of Priscilla, whose unimpressed gaze flicked between Kyoka and Kalameet. Right. "Or perhaps you can, but we can just as easily destroy their books and be done with it. They're all up there, right?"

Her friend nodded hesitantly. "All Etherious store their books in a secure vault deep within Plutogrim. His armour is strong, though. I don't know if you can break it from the outside. And, um, he is alive and will digest you if you go inside."

Mavis quietly wondered what her husband made something like that for. Knowing him, perhaps so his Etherious could have a home. She shook off the thought and beamed up at Kyoka. "Worry not, I know a few spells that will do the trick. Even Pris doesn't know those."

"Not yet, you mean."

"Spoilsport. Now let me just dial Precht...."

Thanks to the unstoppable march of science, Crocus' Archive-network was well established at this point. All Mavis had to do was cast Archive of her own or possess a recognised Lacrima with the spell. She had Precht's number memorised and a quick message went his way. She did the same for Warrod right after. Then Mavis crossed her arms behind her back and fluttered her lashes at Solano. "What do you say? A Wizard Saint and three prospective Saints, two dragons, a Dragonslayer. That ought to suffice, no?"

The other woman ran a hand over her face in clear exasperation. But in the end she nodded. "I'd rather not have Yukino this close to the action, but knowing you," she addressed her sister directly, "you're not leaving anyway. So keep Aries ready."

"I'm not a kid anymore, you know?"

Just then the ceiling collapsed.

Kyoka felt the discharge right before it happened. But it was too late to warn them, now they would be buried just like-

That was as far as her thoughts went before sunlight flooded the area. The spider woman nobody introduced squirmed near a wall covered in silk. She failed to notice the annoyed black dragon glaring all the stone to nothing. Her eyes were glued to what surrounded the newly made hole: Mard Geer stood front and center, flanked by every single one of the archdevils and a few dozen lesser Etherious. Half of Tartaros stood with him, surrounding the hole.

As if on their own, Kyoka's eyes sought Seilah behind her former leader. The other woman merely arched an eyebrow, expression deceptively calm.

"How unfortunate," Mard Geer jovially spoke into the surprised silence. "It would have been nice to end this little game swiftly. Alas, you always have to make it difficult for us, Kyoka." He paid no mind at all to everyone else surrounding her. Not even Death, Priscilla, whose annoyance the wayward Etherious could feel pouring over them. "Now, if you would return E.N.D.'s book?"

She shivered under his cold stare. There was familiarity, but neither mercy nor consideration. She truly was not one of them anymore. She still did not want to fight; if anything, she wanted to flee.

Then a spark lit, flames shining brighter than the sun for but a moment. The burning woman glared up at Mard Geer with hatred. "You," she seethed, "You killed them all!"

All her outburst earned was a passing glance. Mard Geer's mocking smile never wavered. "Pardon, have we met? And could you narrow it down a little?"

The woman roared and took two steps. Kyoka stood by her path and quickly caught her arm, holding tight.

"Don't, that's what he wants!"

The woman growled and fought to break free, but Kyoka held on. The agony of having her flesh burned away faded soon as there was only bone left, but she continued to grasp the berserker.

Meanwhile, Mard Geer chuckled. "Indeed. Humans are oh so easily coaxed into making mistakes once they get emotional." The other Etherious snickered, which clearly riled the furious woman up further. A surge of barely bearable heat attempted to dislodge Kyoka, but her flesh regenerated faster than the flames could burn it. Yet none attacked despite the animosity. Perhaps, she felt, they lacked the resolve to come at her after all.

But that did not matter. Right now she violently pulled that woman back. Just this once, her voice reverberated with its old strength and certainty: "I said stop! Unless you want to die, too!"

Her words made the lady flinch and cease struggling forward. Her fires flickered momentarily as she sought Kyoka's gaze. Once the Etherious could be sure she got through to her, she let go and nursed her charred flesh. The stench wafted between them and pain pulsed up and down the entire arm. Even as it began to regenerate, it felt so much more intense without a life on the line. Kyoka took a shuddering breath while trying to dive deeper for the old her. She needed it now.

With her arm restored, she glared up at her former leader. "This has gone on long enough. You made an enemy of the majority of Ishgar's realms and alienated the rest, all for nonsense like this. Is this what you wanted, Mard Geer? For one to kill the other?"

"Speaks the traitor."

"I did not betray anyone!" Her shout reverberated, echoing from the walls. Several of the lower ranking Etherious flinched. Seeing Mard Geer's smirk, Kyoka realised he got under her skin and growled. "I have never once revealed anything I knew of us. I never acted against your aspirations. I left because I could not do it anymore and none of you ever understood that!"

A mocking huff sounded from Seilah, who stared down at her coldly. "It sounds like weakness to me. Who would have thought that you of all people would come to associate with prey. Which, of course, makes you prey."

Kyoka fumed. She knew a dozen awful things to respond with, but not a word made it past her lips. Lashing out at them would only hurt them more than her betrayal already did.

While she still fought for composure, a dark chuckle rumbled across the area. Her gaze snapped back to the actual dragon lounging nearby. Half the assault force took a step back as they realised it was not a statue. Kyoka only knew because she saw him move before. Now he rose with grace to draw any feline's envy, ignoring the Etherious entirely. His gaze rested solely on Priscilla. "Is this what thou see of our folly? Our ambitions laid bare, superiority yet to be shattered by the Lords?"

The giantess huffed in response before nodding. "Indeed. Tis arrogance which heralds ruin."

"And there is even one to behold what all others miss, spurned for her choices made."

Kyoka could vaguely understand what the joke was, but only Priscilla laughed at it. Everyone else stared at the two, conversing without a care for the army-killers surrounding them.

Perhaps it was that disrespect that made Jackal leap. He broke formation and came right at her, teeth bared... only to stop in mid-air, no two metres from her face. His hands almost touched her nose. Kyoka felt the world grow still, her entire body frozen. Memories assaulted her, but she could neither run nor scream. She could not even cry or close her eyes. All she could do was watch the giantess turn lazily. She studied her frozen assailant, distinctly unimpressed.

"Ah yes," she murmured after an eternal moment, "I tend to forget local tradition requires one to call a technique's name." She snorted, all kindness discarded. "Legacy of Reign Eternal." The words were painfully loud in this perfect silence. Kyoka could see that it reached all the way to her kin from her peripheral vision.

Then there was motion beside Death. Where she was predominantly white, the black dragon Kalameet studied her. "Curious," he commented. "Thou force thy surroundings into a state akin to our realm."

"How dost thou mean?" The blunette interrupted. She, too, paced around to study her frozen friends. "Why is it indiscriminate?"

"None can escape eternity," Priscilla responded. "And Kalameet is correct. I impose the original state of being upon all within my reach. Ethernano improves it to its ideal form by my will. Worry not for thy companions, they will be fine."

Even now she paid no mind to Tartaros or the assailant still frozen right next to her face. Kyoka's mind slowly began to work again, even if thinking was all she could do at the moment. Priscilla flaunted her might shamelessly, forcing her enemies to watch. Perhaps now they understood what changed Kyoka so.

Then Priscilla turned to Jackal again and produced her scythe. The sight of it triggered more flashbacks, almost making her faint.

"Hold," Kalameet stopped the monster from Jackal's execution. He stalked forward until he stood by Priscilla's side; gleaming orange shone from his forehead. It felt deeply wrong to Kyoka, but still she could merely watch as the dragon rose to his hindlegs. His visible glare enveloped Jackal.

Nothing happened.

"Well?"

"I see their patterns and how they were assembled. I see the resuscitation of which thee spoke. The Etherious is permanently linked to their anchour, but this same link severs on death. A corpse remains, but the essence is safe within their anchour. Safe to spawn a new body, carrying all memories and experiences. Simple yet effective. Artful, even. A shame Zeref since passed."

The verdict was delivered without any hint of actual despondence. He was almost clinical in his analysis. The alien light continued to shine, however. "Now to unravel this."

To her and likely everyone else's shock, Jackal began to glow and dispersed into nothing. It took all of a few seconds. Kalameet paid no mind to the life he just extinguished, musing thoughtfully: "Safeguards along the structure, to be activated by Zeref alone. Potentially to curb misdemeanor? Regardless, following the link is trivial and so is destroying the anchour through it. The result is death."

The previous panic Kyoka felt made way for an icy cold feeling. Priscilla raged and hated, but for a reason. Kalameet simply never cared to begin with, stomping down on a group of ants that dared climb his foot.

The stasis field receded then, allowing Kyoka to slump to her knees. She wanted to run again, but her legs did not move. Seilah had a similar reaction up above while everyone else stood in abject horror. Mavis muttered something about being trapped in her own body again while the two white-haired humans fainted. Wendy and her fiery friend caught them both.

"Now," Priscilla spoke, her voice cutting through the terror like a knife through butter. "According to Fairy Tail tribunal convention, you have until the count of three to beg forgiveness. Kneel."

Her word was a command like none Kyoka ever heard. It almost carried a physical compulsion. Her body followed thoughtlessly, even though she was not addressed. She could barely lift her head to see that none of the Etherious did likewise.

"One."

Then Seilah shuddered, falling forward much like Kyoka had. She did not rise.

"Two."

The word was not fully spoken before all the rest charged as one. They only made it halfway down before the area froze again, locking Kyoka in place. Priscilla's gaze was cold now.

"Three. Kalameet?"

Kyoka and Seilah had to watch as their family was dismantled one by one. Slaughtered without a chance of retribution or revival. Kalameet worked methodically, not that his gruesome task took long to accomplish. If anything, he grew faster with practice. Only when his head turned to Mard Geer were they interrupted by Wendy: "Leave this one alive. Flare will want to do this herself."

"Vengeance, for kin slaughtered." It may be agreement of a sort. Kalameet's gaze flickered over the frozen form, then remained for far longer. Mard Geer's arms and legs dissolved until there were only stumps. "His might is neutered and his anchour primed to destroy itself on death."

So saying, he moved on. Throughout it all, Priscilla stood still as a pillar of might. Her will held the entire area in stasis. No quarter was given, no mercy granted. Every single Etherious that did not bend the knee was annihilated. They challenged power unrivalled, now they paid the price. Only when the deed was done did Priscilla allow the world to breathe once more. Kyoka lay shuddering for a moment, at least until the slap of flesh on stone reminded her of Mard Geer. Raising her head, she found her once proud leader lying on the ground.

Then soft sobs reached her ears. A voice she knew oh so well. Kyoka forced herself up and climbed out of the hole to reach Seilah, to embrace her. Even though she felt empty herself, somehow Kyoka found the strength to whisper soothing words to her last remaining family.

She paid no mind to the arrival of two elderly men, a cadre of flying wizards, or the Rune Knights. No attention was paid to her in turn... mainly because roaring flames and pained screams monopolised their attention. Kyoka shuddered while Seilah in her arms only cried harder. But she was alive, they both were. A spark of hope blossomed within Kyoka's emptied heart. At least this one would not die.

"I'm sorry," Seilah whispered. "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry...."

Her desparation made Kyoka tear up also. She squeezed the other woman tighter. "I'm sorry too," she cut off the stream of apologies. "So, so, sorry."

Boots crunched along the grass around them, but neither paid mind to the military presence. At least until a calm voice called out: "I believe it is time to end this for good."

It was Mavis, flanked by the elders. Her hardened gaze pointed straight at Plutogrim. Priscilla stepped next to them but was waved back. The blonde smiled without any humour. "My turn."

"And how are you going to beat those beasts, little lady?" One of the Rune Knights inquired with a mixture of politeness and disbelief. Kyoka wondered as well.

She and Seilah sat there, watching and feeling how the Ethernano coursed through Mavis. She snapped her fingers and light began to flicker over her hand. A spell circle manifested, weaved through the skin. Three distinct streams followed it as she channelled.

Then a great firestorm exploded from behind them. Priscilla flinched forward while everyone else shied away from the blistering heat. Like the breath of a living god it reached for the heavens, engulfing Plutogrim. Kyoka could only stare as his thick belts of reinforced armour began to melt. The largest Etherious began to wail in pain, forcing many people to the ground through noise alone. Beneath them danced the witches, unaware and uncaring for the beast's peril. Two brought forth the flame of their souls while their brightest student sent them heavenward.

Meanwhile, the glow in Mavis' hand grew so bright Kyoka could no longer look at it. She stood firm while everyone else inched away, instincts as old as humanity urging them to flee. "Light of sun, moon, and stars," she intoned. "Come forth to eradicate my enemy. You were always one, now regain your union and pour forth! Fairy Glitter!"

The three streams that mixed in her palm became as one. Ethernano ravaged the entire area as a halo appeared above Plutogrim; it quickly turned into a constricting ring. The melting Etherious could not evade; he was caught and restrained. But the ring pushed further inward, slicing through his weakened armour. It gleamed a bright gold, growing brighter still before exploding violently.

Then vines grew all across the countryside to catch the pittance of debris. A few bodies fell also, quickly caught and restrained. Moments later, another stream of Ethernano from the other old man covered the entire plains under a singular spell circle. "And now to clean up," he groused, a ball of light between his palms. Kyoka could feel it connect to the giant circle above, just as golden as Fairy Glitter had been. "Fairy Law!"

The light engulfed them all and Kyoka closed her eyes in expectance of the end. But it was only warm, almost gentle as it brushed past her. Seilah hiccupped, equally unaffected. No one was, she realised moments later. Except the bodies she spied earlier, who were simply gone. The circle faded and the elder wiped his sweaty face.

Everyone stood in silence, cowed by the might of Fairy Tail. Kyoka never realised that Mavis was this powerful. Even the dragon that crawled out of the chasm by their side looked upon them with newfound respect, or so she assumed. They certainly had his interest.

Now all that was left were she and Seilah, and the book of E.N.D.. Tartaros was no more, gone without a trace. Extinguished without mercy.

She was still staring when Mavis tugged her hand. The other woman wordlessly bid Kyoka to stand, then dragged her and Seilah away. No one impeded them, most still too busy gawking at where a continental threat had just been.

She still had trouble believing that it was well and truly over.

Perhaps a part of her already expected what happened next.

An invisible force grasped for Kyoka. It wrapped around the Etherious and the book she held as a black hole opened overhead. She could do no more than gasp in surprise before she was torn away from Seilah's side. Mavis' hand left hers unbidden. Upward she flew, spinning around herself in an attempt to escape. But it was futile; the hole in reality swallowed her whole.

And from the sheer amount of power expended that day, a slumbering dragon's senses tingled once more. One colossal eye slid open, then the other. Acnologia began to wake.

 

[Pesky]

Did I miss what happened to Seliah's book? Wasn't it still on Plutogrim?

 

[Naron]

Did I miss what happened to Seliah's book? Wasn't it still on Plutogrim?

Click to shrink...

You are correct, Seilah's book was destroyed. This effectively means that she is now just as mortal as everybody else, but has no direct effect on the existing her.

 

[NightmareWarden]

Alright, looks like Kyoka is going to Lordran. Or one of the later Dark Souls games... Plenty of potential locations. I suspect our healer will encounter Nito's servants, so she can contrast the Death she has faced (Priscilla) and the Lord of Death. A healer and the man who could rot, could poison the infinite dragons. Maybe we'll see Paladin Leeroy. On the other hand, there is a goddess in Dark Souls who may play an important role in the greater story of both settings. Velka. Kyoka's tales of Earthland, Priscilla, and such could interest her greatly.

Just to be clear, Kyoka has E.N.D. and the damaged remains of her own book still?

The byplay between Priscilla and Kalameet was amusing. Lofty, arrogant dragons against upstart Lords. The Etherious certainly aren't dragons, but their behavior would feel familiar to the stoic wyrm.

Mavis got to see her Beau again, good for her. She needed something nice after seeing the ruins of that bomb. And the rune knights helped too, a bit. They might be grumpy soldiers who roll their eyes at Fairy Tail, but they're good people. There is more to these events than combat prowess.

So, Flare's quest is complete. A bit of a bizarre ending from her perspective, but I can't see her complaining. Will she choose to follow the lead of her teammates now, or does she have another goal in mind already? Time will tell. First thing's first though. Fixing that hole in the house! Sure the bodies are gone, but those Fairy spells couldn't do a thing for the gaping hole?!? Bah! On the other hand, Wendy could always use more practice.

I checked the dates. If we follow canon, three more years until Tenrou Island reappears and Mavis's spell ends. I suspect we may see a funeral for Precht in that time. I'm not assuming their will be another time skip, just putting it out there.


Last but not least, someone who has taken a leave of absence which prevented her from participating in this... "Battle." Mirajane, devourer of demons. Aside from wondering what Kalameet would think of her Etherious-infused abilities, what will she make of this arc? One of Priscilla's first contributions to the guild was a body for a Fairy Tail S-class mage, but ultimately nothing clear has come of it. I'm not complaining! I'm explaining why I have suspicions that this chapter was wrapped up too nicely. The other shoe to drop may involve Mirajane.

Thanks for the chapter!

 

[Naron]

Just to be clear, Kyoka has E.N.D. and the damaged remains of her own book still?

Click to shrink...

This is correct.