Never had she felt so small.

Perhaps there was a purpose after all, she mused, in the creation of such threatening, twisted towers. For the bare shreds of her remaining confidence was no such comfort in face of such a sinister sight. It was almost fitting, the pale moon eerily resurfacing among a mist of wispy clouds, the disturbing shrieks echoing through the night—

What had Natsu said that one day, so long ago?

"Ah, that's it." She murmured, remembering Natsu's first fight with Jackal. Then, with more self-assurance than she truly had, she spoke aloud to herself.

"Ready to start some hell-hunting?"

And so she bravely rode on towards the towering gate, ignoring the fact she held no keys, no whip, no—anything. As she reached out to unfasten the padlock, a single thorny tendril wrapped itself tightly around the lock. She snatched her hand back as if stung.

"Halt, human."

She could barely describe his voice—it was unearthly, a strange howl of shrieks that made her quake in her boots.

"You shall not pass."

"And if I must?" Her own voice must have betrayed her fear, for he barked a laugh.

"Then watch carefully, for you have unleashed the gates of hell."

Suddenly, all around her were thorns and brambles, the sharp vines twisting and curling around her as if they had a life of their own. Her horse reared in fright, as she desperately shielded herself from the worst of the barbs.

"Whoa, boy. Easy!" She shouted. The writhing thorns were contracting towards her, beckoning her to impale herself upon one of their sharp spikes—they would pierce through her like it was nothing.

"Struggling will only prolong the inevitable, mortal prince."

Lucy could finally see her opponent with half-shut eyes as she continued grappling with her horse.

Mard Geer, King of the Underworld, smiled mockingly at her. "You don't want your pretty little face to be all scratched up, prince? Don't want all of that luscious blood staining your clothes? What an ugly, ugly world you live in."

"Only because filth like you pollute it!" Lucy snapped back, resorting to batting at the thorns with the only weapon she had left—her hands. Warm, red trickles ran down her fingers, each sharp stab only adding to the rivers of blood.

Her hands? Hadn't she received a gift from the fairies?

"You have no idea." Mard Geer laughed. "How beautifully cruel, how painful this world already is. Zeref understands this agony, for this world is a false one—a trusting hand will reach forward to pluck a rose and grab a handful of thorns."

Lucy was still courageously swatting away at the thorns to the best of her ability, until something gave her pause.

She felt a rush of fury when she spotted her Fairy Tail insignia marred by the thorns' merciless touch. How could she merely sit here, just fending off the onslaught? Fairy Tail mages never watched—no, they acted.

The thorns were flailing closer and closer—would this be her last chance to use the gift of beauty? She closed her eyes, praying with all of her heart.

And her left hand reached out and wrapped itself tightly around the thorns. She squeezed tightly. Yet…she felt nothing.

"The pain?" Lucy said aloud, almost doubting her good fortune.

Mard Geer stared in shock, almost choking on his next words.

Lucy dared to open her eyes, watching as each thorn slowly blossomed into an exquisite rose. Light was falling down upon them like raindrops of starlight, illuminating each lovely transformation. The vines, once an inky black, were restored to their green, vibrant luster.

This was...enchanting. This was beauty.

"Roses…you have shown me a rose." Mard Geer whispered, reaching out to touch one reverently. "It has been so long, since I have last seen a rose."

She felt something akin to pity for the poor man, who had disregarded true beauty as evil.

"You can weep because roses have thorns," Lucy said gently, watching as the roses gently retreat away from the gate. "or perhaps you can rejoice—for among all the thorns, there is a rose."

Mard Geer paused, as if deep in thought.

"The gift of beauty has been bestowed upon you, prince. I shall not take that lightly."

And Lucy thought she had seen a single tear rolling down Mard Geer's cheek before he slowly faded away into the darkness.

A small leather book fell to the ground at her feet. Mard Geer, she read.

Her first trial was over.

"Thank you." She breathed to the fairies, quickly unlatching the gate and pushing it wide open.

The world was truly a more beautiful place than anyone would ever know.


She had barely unsaddled herself from her horse when the next challenger had struck.

"Prince of the Roses, is it?" A large bellow shook the castle grounds, loose bricks tumbling down to the ground. "My master is most displeased that you have so easily rid yourself of his greatest servant. Appear before me, mortal!"

Lucy boldly stepped out, striding straight into the center of the courtyards. "I'm right here, beast."

"To hold no sword? You are truly courageous—or truly stupid."

"Perhaps I am neither." Lucy stood tall and proud (she later wondered if the absence of estrogen had caused her to this reckless—was this why Natsu and all the other Fairy Tail men were so crazy?) "Face me, you brute!"

And then she wanted to take back her words as soon as a terribly familiar sight greeted her. What appeared to be a large mountain landed down in front of her with the power of an earthquake, causing her to stumble backwards.

"Acnologia." She breathed. This had been the creature who had taken her and her guildmates away from the guild for seven years, the monster who had brought Natsu so much grief—

And she herself must stand and face him.

Alone.

Or maybe she could run away and never come back—unfortunately, that was not an option.

If someone had peered into Lucy's mind (which was a vast, complex swirl of mixed emotions and highly advanced thoughts—really, it was not recommended to peruse Lucy's brain. Natsu's mind, on the other hand, is much, much simpler to understand), one would see all of her other thoughts being rudely pushed aside by a loudmouthed, overly confident dragon slayer. She only had one thing on her mind—and to no one's surprise, it was Natsu Dragneel.

Her right hand began to throb. The gift of intelligence…but what use would it serve against this massive monster of brute strength?

And almost instantly, a mental berate from Erza shouted in her eardrums (Erza was loud, whether she was actually present or not).

Strength is nothing, Lucy! The fierce redhead had screeched, ignoring Lucy's look of pain (her eardrums were quite sensitive, after all). Look at those fucking idiots over there—can they fight well? Lucy begged to differ, for she thought Natsu and Gray were quite capable in their own right. Exactly! You can't always rely on your power—you've got to outwit the opponent!

Outwit the opponent?

"Erza, this one's for you!" Lucy whispered to herself for encouragement. But she felt less terrified, for she knew she had the gift of intelligence as her ally.

(Of course, she ignored Erza's second piece of advice that followed suit. She was not about to chop someone to pieces, or snap his or her neck with her bare hands, or submit the victim to intensive torture after outwitting the enemy).

"Hey, dragon!"

The black dragon turned his snout towards her as if highly amused by her antics. Even with that simple turn, she could see the muscles rippling underneath his scales, the sheer power of his limbs…

"Where's my riddle?" She shouted as loudly as she could.

"Riddle?"

"Yeah, my riddle! All dragons are supposed to tell one, you know!" Lucy was quite unsure of this fact (it would quite contradict Natsu's slow nature. After all, if all Igneel ever did was ask riddles, then wouldn't Natsu have been brighter?). "Every fairy tale has the brave, swash-buckling dragon who torments the maiden—err, prince—with the world's most challenging, most ingenious riddle!" She may have been laying it on a tiny bit thick, but her throbbing right hand urged her to keep going.

Acnologia appeared quite confused.

"You don't have one, huh?" Lucy walked up to his talons, brazenly giving it a few rough pats. "Don't worry, I suppose I can help you."

"Help me?"

"Under one condition, of course. Let me into the castle, and I'll give you a riddle."

"Why a riddle?"

"Well, how else to serve your master? You can easily defeat any trespassers who come your way with this fearsome skill!"

"Would it not be easier for me to devour them?" He opened his mouth wide, revealing each pointy tooth within his formidable jaw.

Lucy cringed. "How…uncouth. Yes, uncouth! A dragon with your majesty and elegance deserves only the most sophisticated methods to kill."

For the strangest reason, which was beyond Lucy's comprehension, Acnologia seemed to consider her far-fetched idea.

"Tell me one of these riddles, then. I find them…intriguing."

"Truly? I mean, you certainly drive a hard bargain." Lucy let her voice grow syrupy sweet, channeling her inner Loke. "But if you can't answer this, I'm afraid you must let me inside the castle."

Acnologia growled impatiently.

"If you wish to earn a riddle of your own..." Lucy taunted, dangling the bait right in front of him.

"I will grant your request, vermin. Now, ask!"

Lucy smiled wryly to herself. She definitely had a sense of humor if she gave him this riddle…

"Of no use to one,

Yet absolute bliss to two.

The small boy gets it for nothing.

The young man has to lie or work for it.

The old man has to buy it.

What am I?" She recited, thanking her lucky stars that her father had been fond of riddles.

There was a pregnant pause.

She was betting her life upon this answer—and betting that he, The Black Dragon in the Book of Apocalypse, would be unfamiliar with the knowledge…

"A hint!" He thundered. "I want a hint!"

Lucy stood her ground, shaking her head. "That wasn't part of the vow."

Seconds passed, then minutes—the dragon had begun to turn to threats. It had become more a fierce battle of wills, each one refusing to give ground.

"I could swallow you whole, and you would be unable to stop me." Acnologia threatened, but Lucy again refused to speak. He stamped his large foot in frustration.

"I…I—" Acnologia struggled to say, clamping down his pride. "I do not know!" He roared in frustration.

"You promised, dragon." Lucy declared audaciously. "We made a bargain."

He closed his eyes in fury, but acquiesced. "Go, foolish mortal. You have bested me." He slowly faded from view (leaving Lucy to hurriedly back away) and shrank into a bound black book, th title Acnologia embossed upon the cover. "But— the true challenger has yet to come."

Lucy sprinted up the path, knowing she was only a mere distance from rescuing the princess. She wanted to laugh at the irony of the riddle surfacing in this particular fairy tale…"Poor dragon." She muttered. "Never to know love, never to feel friendship..." She knew this riddle would be meaningless to him, but to her...to her, it meant everything.

"Never got to feel a kiss."