Love is thought to be the strongest magic of all. It's told that its power is above everything, that it can withstand anything dark magic has to throw at it. That is not necessarily true, as love is just a human connection, a mutual feeling between two.

Dark magic is weakened by love, and many dark mages do not posses the power to over-take it. But there is power much stronger than that of simple love.

Dark shadows criss-crossed the ground like snakes, twisting and turning on the harsh, life-ridden ground. They molded and formed something perfectly, inexplicably evil. The darkness spread into every corner of the Earth, creating an obsidian light from its black flames. Pure night bore into this new creature, life becoming still and shadowed. The light that still existed became petrified, stunned and destroyed by this new-come night, and only one soul was able to shine through the new blanket of emptiness.

Though only one shone, two existed. One lurked in this darkness, cherished it, was it. One whose power loomed like his shadows, new found and new-born. One whose soul once glittered like the others, but memories had been forgotten; stolen from him, and that had made his shadows stronger.

His mighty presence had taken form, showing his true being. He looked like a man. Nearly; slightly; but he was not ordinary; he was anything but. His eyes had been tainted by his shadows, creating a black wall to his soul. Sharp horns formed abruptly above sharp, pink hair. Wings large and looming added to his powerful presence, ripping through the back of his vest. His hands had been replaced with scaly claws. He had met his darkness, his shadows, and it had consumed him.

He came to notice the other soul, the one that glittered even through his shadows, and it intrigued him. The dragon that roared inside of him longed for gold, for precious things.

He made his way towards it, his footsteps echoing in the utter silence. She lay there, bloodied, beaten, and unconscious. She had escaped a harsh fate, one that many close to her faced. Love had weakened the shadows that had poisoned her, and left her a bloody mess of her former self. The dragon could not see anything of interest anything that shone directly to his eye. He made his way to discard her, as something as rotten as this he didn't want in his world. He reached down to grab her, but shakily her head rose from the ground, exposing her battle-scarred face. And in her eyes, golden sparkled, a light that had become unknown to this world.

Though he knew not, the love that had once filled his heart sparked for a millionth of a second. His shadows quickly came to notice and it was extinguished.

But in that millionth of a second, he came to see her golden locks. His greedy, shadowy heart grinned, and scale-covered claws wrapped around this golden treasure, and picked her up by them. Noises that had been words of pleading escaped her lips, but he payed no mind, as he had found his treasure, and the beginning of the dragon's horde.

Many, many years passed, and his horde had grown at an alarming pace. Never, had there ever been such a collection, such a gathering, as it's mass panned of at least a hundred miles. Golden coins, trinkets, other things that glimmered. The world was his now, and this is what he chose to do with it. At it's peak, he sat, atop a glorious bed, golden, the finest quality. And beside him, much less glorious, was his treasure.

She was tied to a post, living off the insects that infested her body, and the rain that fell most constantly upon them. Her hair had greyed, her body thinned, and muscles weakened. Many years she had called to the demon, many names, many stories she had spoken of. She told of the time she had met him, the time she had fallen from the tower to his trusting arms, the time they had won the Grand Magic Games; many pointless things, like the times they would stay up to late, the times they had too much alcohol, or the times she held him in her lap as he was sick on the train; many things harsh and cruel, telling of the times he couldn't save the future Lucy, the time Erza had cried tears and had given up, the years he had searched for Igneel, and how he had killed him in a single sweep, anything to spark the memory of the demon. But to no avail, for he was his shadows now, and not a fragment of hope was left within her. She was alive, but her soul was dead.

Memories bore inside her head, and though the spark in her eyes had given up, her heart sang the song of memories and friendship, keeping it's glittering beat.

But a dragon is not satisfied by that. All his treasure must be grand, glimmer even through his darkness, just like how the girl had once done. He is not satisfied with something not seen, and one day he came to notice this.

His eyes traced her entire body, searching for the glimmer. Nothing, nothing shone about her now. She had become gaunt and skinny, dull and boring. He reached out with a sharp claw and lifted her chin. In her eyes, the glimmer was gone, no hope to break through the mask of fear.

So his claw plunged into her chest, causing a new sound to escape from her lips. He paid no notice, for as his claw withdrew, a tidal wave of emotion fell over him.

Shadows became to create balance with the light. Their entire purpose is to fight with it, to weaken it. Without light, shadows have no purpose. And something without purpose becomes non-existent, and fades from the world; from memories. To keep this from happening, to save itself, as the last light is fading, it shall retreat from something it had taken, restoring and creating a new light to grow and prosper.

So as the last light faded in his claws, he shook and convulsed as shadows retreated from him, his powers decreasing and his form beginning to change. Horns and wings retreated, hair greyed, claws became hands. He became human again.

And with the escape of his shadows, memories and feelings returned. Merciless, they tore through his body with every escape of a black snake. When at last the shadows were gone, his eyes were directed at the ground. Realization cut through his body. Golden locks, happy eyes, stories of the things they had done together. Subconsciously he had listened, heard her crying to him. But that part of him had been silenced by the shadowy wall around his heart. He stared at the bloody mess of a heart that lay motionless in his hands, and his gaze started to drift upwards to its keeper. Her saw her, she was completely frail and had suffered greatly, and blood flowed from a hole in her chest, but she was still the one he remembered.

"L-Lucy?" Words escaped cracked, old lips as he remembered her name. He said it like it was holy, and all of the pain for all those decades rung out in the single word as its silence was broken. His legs shook and he couldn't move, his shadows no longer strengthening him.

Through her pain, he saw a small golden glimmer in her eyes. Love. He saw it and remembered it, likewise she had once more felt it. Her light glimmered through the shadows once again, then faded.

And for the first time in 70 years, he cried.