never knowing you wouldn't come back alive

Characters: Ur Milkovich, Gildarts Clive, Ivan Dreyar and Layla Heartfilia

Summary: Even gods can fall.

The sky was burning.

It always was.

The realm of the Destruction God was a hot place, a place where everything burned and died. No, it was not a nice place, not by far. The earth sometimes ripped open, releasing hot steam so one had always to be careful on where to step.

Yet today, it was relatively cold when Gildarts woke up. He rose from his bed and stepped outside, eyes easily spotting Urania in the distance. The winter woman was high up in the air, conjuring masses of ice to fend off the giant, to keep it away from the Garden.

And then, she fell.

She was losing – for the first time in centuries, no, for the first time in her lifetime. Blood, golden as the sun, had long stained her pale dress and her skin was showing deep gashes. The giant was her anti-thesis, nearly immune against her countless blows.

To a mere mortal, she would have looked like a shooting star, all light and golden blood, heartbreakingly beautiful even in her defeat.

To Gildarts, it was the most terrifying sight of his lifetime – because he saw the golden blood seeping out from the gash on her chest. She would most likely survive given the right treatment but he would have no time to heal her – because the giant was following her as she fell towards the ground of Gildarts' realm which was rapidly growing colder as she approached. In awe, he saw how she rose her arms and conjured a barrier, one that held the giant away. Then, she finally allowed herself to fall in full speed. He moved quickly, catching her in the very last moment before she could hit the ground.

"Kill … Deliora," she whispered, silver tears on her gold-stained face. "For me, yes?"

He only nodded, wrapping his cloak around her and rose into the sky, away from the burning earth of his homeland and into the cold of the universe – ready to eliminate the giant. Deliora had been created with the single purpose of slaying ice gods. Urania had engaged it in battle – against better knowledge – simply because it would have taken too long to wait for someone else to arrive. And the woman had always taken her duty to shield the Garden from harm coming from the outside quite serious.

Gildarts was a powerful god, able to tear the universe in two. Ur, too, was stronger than anyone else but she was an Ice Goddess, no, the Ice Goddess and Deliora was her poison.

Yet the giant stood no chance against the Destroyer of Worlds.

Hell, even Urania's ice which was something Deliora should have been immune against had left scratches in his blue skin, scratches where red blood oozed out from – all because of the vast difference in power between the giant and the goddess he had been created to kill. Deliora had been lucky that he had swatted her away, down to Gildarts' realm, and that this had nearly kocked her out.

Now, the giant's luck had run out.

Gildarts was not one to play around, not after he had just witnessed how a dear friend nearly got herself killed. He was angry and so red blood was shed. Destroyer of Worlds was no honourable title, not by far. But he had earned it along the centuries while he had destroyed one world after another, fulfilling orders, saving his family.

Now, his oldest friend needed saving.

Deliora fell with a scream, tumbled down into the hell it had risen from while crimson blood stained the frozen garden of Urania's realm, dying the ice pink. Gildarts scoffed as he watched how the frozen flames of Nifelhel swallowed the giant again.

Then, he returned to his own garden where a rather unwelcome guest was wrapping bandages around the fallen goddess' injuries.

"Ivan," the destruction god said with a growl in his voice. "When did you enter the garden?"

"I am the god of thievery among other things," the black-haired man said before he mentioned towards the garden high above everything. "And I saw her fall. When you rather went to fight Deliora instead of healing her injuries first, I decided to step in."

"She asked me to kill it."

"Oh, as if Erza couldn't have done that," the trickster snapped, lifting the fallen goddess up. "Anyway, as you got nothing but beer in your beautiful garden, I will take her to my mother. You can stay here, I am sure that Mirajane has a bone to pick with you."

"She had one job – to make sure that the Gates of Hell would stay closed," the taller god snapped.

"Big words for someone who has never lived up to the expectations, really."

"Did I ever mention how much I hate you sometimes?"

"You are not discreet about it – at all."

The beer in front of him tasted like he felt: terrible. He had nicked a power limiter from Yuuka's work shed and had hidden in the Human World. His shirt was glued to his back because it was too hot in the bar, too many people. If he were in possession of his abilities, he would have long exploded and killed everyone along with the planet.

But Yuuka's limiter was doing a great job so far.

His fist was clenched at his side. Finally, she had done it. He was not only worried for her, no, he was nearly crying because the sight of her fall was burned into his mind. She had passed out, had nearly died. They had known each other for more than a millennia, for more than a world's time. And she had nearly left him – had nearly left him out of pride, out of the misguided belief that she had to stop Deliora.

Stupid woman. Stupid giant.

She had been always blind to the obvious in spite of her way to perceive everything and to understand everyone's reasons.

Around him, people were leaving. That had been to be expected. They might not exactly understand his nature but their instincts warned them to stay away. Not that he cared much. His thoughts were with the woman who was dimensions away, who was behind the veil of smoke and fire. He sighed. Urania had been there, always. Now, she was somewhere else, somewhere where he was not welcome. That she had been brought to the Garden had already been against the rules. If he were to go there to see her, the Garden might collapse.

So he sat in a bar, waiting. Waiting while the skies over his homeland were freezing because with Ur unable to control it and with him away to counteract, her powers were running free. Slowly, the cold was reaching out for him as well so he would freeze soon. The cold was already choking him. And slowly, realisation sunk in. He had believed that she would come to find him the moment she would wake up – but she was not there.

The sky above him was no longer burning, he realised as he rose and slowly made his way back. She had frozen it the same way she had frozen his heart and everything else. He kicked away the ice statue she had given him as a joke a century ago, as a test how long the ice would manage not to melt in the heat of his realm.

She did not belong here. She did not belong into the outer gardens where emptiness and loneliness where everywhere. Yet, even though this would be better for her sake, he needed her the same way a human child would yearn for its security blanket.

So where was she? Why did she leave him alone in a cold garden? Why had she not come to take the cold away from him, a cold that made it impossible for him to think properly?

And then, the cold was fading all of a sudden.

He raised his gaze, half afraid to see only one of her sons because they might be able to clean up this mess, but no – it was indeed her. Her body glowed in a blueish light as she twirled in midair, calling the ice back to herself.

Urania, a fallen one. A banished one. But so was he. They had been thrown out of the garden, had been sent away from what had mattered to them. They had lost hope and loved ones but they had never lost each other. Urania had never surrendered anything, had kept herself alive and sane with the mere love that resided inside her heart for the past centuries.

And here she was.

Urania had never seen herself as some sort of hero. Those were other people, humans the gods had blessed and assigned to certain missions. No, she was no such hero. She was a goddess with the power to protect the entire realm of bigger and smaller worlds the gods controlled from harm coming from the outside.

And she aged backwards once again. Her skin regained its usual, healthy colour and her hair lost the silvery gleam. She became visibly younger, once again, and stronger, too. So she ran one hand through her hair – it was getting too long now, she would have to cut it soon – and walked over the scorched earth of Gildarts' homeland before she stopped in front of her friend. "Sorry," she said with a shaky smile. "I took a while getting here. Porlyusica didn't let me leave when I woke up, said something about how Deliora might have injured me gravely."

"You still came back … for me, for my lands," he said, bowing his head. "Thank you."

"You saved my life," she said, sheepishly rubbing the back of her neck. "So, we are still friends?"

"Always," he promised.

And the field of vision exploded.

And Urania found herself pressed against Gildarts' chest, his arms around hers and guarded against the onslaught as they fell through the open space – into the direction of the Garden. She gasped, twisting herself around and conjured a barrier that stopped them from crashing into the garden. So they halted in midair, dust and fire surrounding them before she pushed them away with another barrier. Her face showed her concentration, the effort she put into the barriers as she stepped away from her oldest friend, standing freely in space. Beneath her was nothing but the depths of nothingness and beneath that, hell.

But this was okay. Because things would turn out just fine. They always did.

Down in the Garden, Laxus was making his way to the doors, he had donned his battle gear and was more than ready to leave the Garden to head to battle. He had been too late for Deliora – something he had been snapped at by Ivan earlier so he had something to make up for. Watching the battle, he hurried his steps.

"Don't go."

He turned, looking straight at Cana who stood by the doors, face strangely serious. "I have to, it is my job, my duty to protect the Garden from harm," he tried to argue.

"Look," the brunette woman said as she pushed herself away from the door she had been leaning against. "That giant is way out of your league. You will get hurt or worse, killed. Urania is able to defeat this giant. My father is not. Let them save each other. You know what they say – it's dangerous to get caught up in the business of the elder."

"You think she will walk away unharmed?"

"Urania is also the goddess of sacrifices, she knows how to win even lost battles," the goddess of fate said with a sigh. She had always believed in the strength of the elder gods because this was how she found her sleep at night and her general peace of mind. She had to believe that they would be strong enough to guard the Garden from harm coming from the outside. Cana had been a warrior herself, a long time ago, long before she had started to watch over the worlds.

"We cannot lose her."

"Oh, well, I guess we have never had her," the younger goddess said, a little wary maybe. "The Ageless Ones, the Elders … they are not really of our kind. They are raw power in bodies. Their power is instable, can destroy easily what they want to protect."

"So you say that it is their duty to die for us?"

"It is, yes."

She knew what this was heading for and so she raised her head as she looked at the giant she had trapped within her barriers. The destruction giant, the giant created to kill and counter Gildarts, was good at making her barriers splinter but she was even better at fixing them – and she was faster, too. Whenever a barrier broke or came close to breaking, she called it back herself, instantly creating a new barrier.

In terms of speed and wits, she was outmatching her opponent but she could not yet risk a direct confrontation. She had just taken a major injury and while she was healed, she felt the traces the wounds had left behind. She could not afford to lose right here, right now. If she lost, the giant would get Gildarts before another warrior would appear.

So it was time to do something drastic.

"Gildarts."

He looked at her, wondering what she would do now. "Yes?"

"Destroy my garden."

"Are you mad?"

"Mad? No but I will be when you don't trust me on this," she said as she cupped his face with her left hand. "Trust me. It will be alright."

The saddest thing was, to her at least, that she knew why he would end up doing it. They had known each other for a longer time than they could actually express. They had both been born from the Chaos and they had had an unnatural pull to each other. Maybe it was because she was so cold that she felt like she was freezing herself sometimes and he was so warm that he sometimes felt like he had been set aflame years ago.

"I need more ice," she said, biting her lip as she focused on the fight. "My garden is ice. So do me a favour and just one time, trust me. Look – I never got around to say this … but if I were to die for any cause, for any person – the safety of you and our fellows god would be a pretty good reason for me. Goddess of Sacrifices, huh? Look, I know what I'm talking about."

She waved at him as she saw how he summoned his power to shatter her realm. "Thank you," she said as she zoomed towards the giant, not even waiting for him to actually fulfil her wish. She was unafraid. She heard the voices of the other gods in the distance as she approached both the Garden and the giant, effectively stepping in between of them.

The power of ancient times returned just when she needed at and she created her glaive, a weapon she had not summoned in a very long time. She had been a rather peaceful goddess for so long that she had nearly forgotten what it was like to be a warrior. But if the time and place required it, she would always be the old fighter again.

"Thank you very much, Gildarts," she said as she swung her weapon, taking off the giants arm before, in the next blow, she cracked open his chest plate. She was focusing on the task at hand as sweat ran down her forehead as she dodged. The very moment she had summoned her glaive, she had switched from her strictly defensive style into her slightly rusty offense, approaching the enemy, getting close. Blocking now was harder as she could not longer conjure complete barriers. She could create shields and that was what she was stuck with.

"Just come down from there alive," he muttered as he watched how her Garden imploded. She had promised that one, the last time they had been bothered by those giants. She had always kept her promises so as long as it was within her abilities, she would return in one piece. She was strong, an ancient warrior.

And the ice obeyed her.

They all had worried that with the time that had passed, they might have lost their former control, their former power. But her heart and her mind where connected to the ice and she was regaining her old control over her weapon of choice as well.

The giant was losing, was losing to a woman who had never been weaker than today and yet, within her weakness was her strength. She remembered friends who had been dragged to hell in a previous war where they had been tortured for years.

Gildarts watched in awe. Urania was his partner, his friend, his enemy and sometimes, they had been interpreted as husband and wife by the believers. For some reason, they had never minded much. It would have never changed anything anyway. They were no humans who could deny until they got blue faces. They were above those things. He liked her, liked her when she smiled and he liked her when she was smashing in a giant's face. And why would he want to change something about their relationship?

But then, as the giant died and fell back into hell, something went wrong.

She fell in beauty, fell into the dying garden that had been hers.

There was no surprise on her face. She had known this. She had wanted this. Her sacrifice was her decision to risk everything for the sake of the Garden she had always been fiercely loyal to. She was a wise woman, always aiming to give her very best for the safety and happiness of her fellow gods. This had been the reason why her garden had been just above hell.

She had always been kind and people easily opened up to her because she was a good listener. This was what mattered a lot when dealing with people who escaped from hell. At the same time, she had the power to stop those who had nothing but the worst intentions for the Garden she had not only helped to create but also helped to protect.

Now it was over.

It was all over.

"Don't worry," Layla said as she arrived, arms crossed and her brown eyes sad. "We are talking about Urania, aren't we? And we've learned that we should always expect the unexpected with her."

But her cheerfulness was false and everyone knew this. Everyone knew that Layla was missing her old friend, that she was angry at Ur for doing something with the knowledge of the consequences. Everyone also knew that Layla was angry. Angry because Urania had broken an old promise.

Gildarts turned around, his arms crossed. "You think so?" he asked tiredly. "She asked me to trust her before she did whatever she had to do to end up like this."

"If she asked you that, she had a plan or something," the celestial goddess said, shrugging. "This doesn't change that I am going to murder her the next time I see her, though."

They were standing above the shattered garden, making use of their privilege as the oldest. Usually, the only way to move between the worlds was by using the gates, the doors. Yet for the first, second and third generation, things were different. They were free to walk without ground beneath their feet and sometimes, they liked to make full use of it when messing with the younger ones.

Around them, the snow was still falling gently, slowly.

The snow was still falling, tiny ice crystals.

The snow fell onto the ground of the garden that was slowly healing, this already being a sign. The snow covered the body in the centre of the garden, in the middle of the beautiful but empty town which had been destroyed when Gildarts' lance had hit it. The body was no longer to be seen underneath the scrambles of the frozen town and all the snow but this did not matter because it was covering everything. It covered the black lake, also made of ice – because there was really nothing else in this world.

It was dark, very dark. The snow was shielding the garden from any light, turning it into the darkest and longest night the world had ever known. Yet it was the silence that worried the observing gods because while the Garden had been empty when Gildarts had destroyed it, the only occupant being in a battle, the destruction was still worrisome. Under different circumstances, Urania would have long arrived to piece her world back together.

"She will freak out when she gets back," Layla remarked drily as she looked at the broken constructions. "She spent years on forming those buildings … and now it's all gone."

"It is sad, I agree," Gildarts said slowly as he lowered his head.

Yet within the shattered town, there was the body, not yet a corpse. The body knew no longer a heartbeat or breath or even basic brain functions. But somewhere inside the body, there was a weak and slowly growing pulsation which was steadily becoming faster as the snow fell.

The pulsation was nothing but simple memories. Three young children, leaving a world of ice and blue and white. A man with reddish brown hair who was extending his hand in friendship. A blond woman with a soft and tender smile and sparkling brown eyes. And a man with raven hair who was creating a world of false gold and lies.

Ultear. Lyon. Gray. Gildarts. Layla. Ivan.

As the lifeless, the dead brain managed to put the letters forming those letters back into the right order, not yet a thought but something smaller, not even a pictures. But for a goddess who needed words and thoughts and pictures, the spark revived a hidden message, had a meaning.

They are waiting for me. I need to find out who I am, what has happened and where I am so that I can get back what I have lost … and then, I can go home.

And this decision, this desire became a fierce determination.

After an hour or maybe an entire year, something moved inside the ash. A fist was clenched.

And then, a spark that reconnected thoughts inside the functional brain. It was the remembrance of what she had once been. A name. The title of an existence, of a person.

Urania.

Too far away to take notion of the newest development, Layla turned to face Gildarts. "I am not sure whether it has already attracted your attention," she started, "but Edolas…"

"…is already burning," he said, his voice and eyes carefully guarded. "I always wondered what or better said who would come after me. Many said it would be Erza, some suggested Juvia. I personally believe that the prettiest and most fitting end for a world is to be covered in ice."

"Ivan."

The way she said it was free of bitterness, it was calm and even, perhaps serene. And this was why he turned his head. "Ivan?" he asked and tried to find a reason why Ivan, why Ivan of all people, would bother with such a task. Ivan was a gambler like no other but he was not crazy. At least not crazy enough to do something that would make Erza even more hateful towards him.

"Ivan," the blonde repeated, dainty fingers wrapped around the keys at her side, keys that would bring her back to her home, back to the place she had loved for such a long time that she sometimes was in pain when she was gone for too long.

"Either the old man has finally gone crazy," Gildarts started, eyes trained on the ruined world beneath them again, "or he is gambling on something right now as well. Ivan has little to no experience when it comes to the business of ending worlds. This is my turf, my thing."

"You are not capable of working at the moment," she told him calmly.

"I know," he admitted. "Doesn't change that I wish I could do what I do best. This waiting – it has never been made for me."