For a brief second after he threw himself to the ground, Natsu wasn't sure if he dodged Eileen's attack. Pain radiated through his entire body. He couldn't pinpoint its epicentre. His arm. His cheek. Everywhere else.
Blood oozed down his face, tottered on his chin, fell, soaked into the ground like a red drop of rain to feed the starving earth.
I could be dead, Natsu thought. He'd seen men's head lopped off only to speak for seconds more. To scream. Was that what he was doing now? Waiting in the seconds between life and death, his nerves running but his brain already dying?
Eileen's frustrated huff was the only thing that jarred him out of his state of shock, that let him in on the reality of the situation.
Scarlet Despair.
The great terror.
She missed.
She was reeling back to try again.
Natsu rolled out of her range and scrabbled to his feet with the help of a destroyed tree trunk. Bits of charred trunk broke off in his hand, clung to his skin.
"You only make this harder on yourself," Eileen informed him.
No good response came to him, so he spared himself a bit of embarrassment and kept silent, struggling to find a way out of this.
Natsu could hear men approaching from the beach.
Fiore's? Or Alvarez's?
Friend, or foe?
Natsu's magic sputtered in his veins like a candle guttering. Each passing second he left it to recover, it grew stronger, but it would take hours to be at full strength again, and he needed to be on top of his game to even think of defeating Eileen.
Her staff swiped down again, so fast, Natsu almost didn't see her move. He lunged away on instinct alone, suffering when he jammed his back against another destroyed tree and jarred his shoulder, and thusly his arm. Black spots dotted his vision. He couldn't feel the pain before, but it was starting to eek back in like water from a breaking dam, reminding him he was mortal.
Men crashed through the forest. Natsu took his eyes away from Eileen for a second to note their garb. They were Fiorian soldiers.
They glanced at Natsu briefly, then focused on Eileen. Many had swords, some axes, bows, and when they stormed her, the blades flashed by the lightning arcing through the sky.
They moved as one, taking no chances, pulling their blades through the air, seeking a home in her skin.
None could touch her. The blades would descend, hit a barrier, be pushed back again. The men tripped, fell with the force of the blowback, yell, struggling to rise again. Except, they couldn't. The ground itself held them in place, the roots of trees lashing on their limbs and tightening so much, bones broke, and their screams filled the air.
Eileen never took her eyes off Natsu.
He realized too late she was casting an enchantment. One of Fiore's men swivelled on him with his sword raised. His eyes were blank of everything, fear, anger, malice. There was nothing going on in his mind as he brought the sword down on Natsu.
Natsu scrabbled out of the way again, tripping over one of the fallen soldiers and crashing in the dirt. The sword missed him by mere inches. He felt the swipe of the blade through the air. He scraped in the loose earth for something to fight back with and found a sword of his own. He used it to block the next hit.
He was no swordsman; Dimaria told him so every time they clashed in the training arena. He thought it would be more apparent, but the soldier Eileen sicced on him didn't attack with the skill of a trained military man. He acted like a savage beast, mindless, swiping at Natsu in any way he could. If only he'd used some finesse. If only he'd thought about his attacks. Natsu wouldn't have been able to break his guard and slide the sword through his heart.
The man collapsed, dead, and the other soldiers halted in their tracks, captured by whatever spell it was Eileen cast on them.
Natsu glared at Eileen. "Your magic is uncontested, but it lacks elegance."
Her eyes flashed, amused. "That is interesting, coming from you."
Natsu drew himself up to his full height, wary of the motionless men around him. It could be an illusion. It could be a trick to make him feel safe. "You can control them, but you can't give them purpose. Without purpose, they're mindless."
Eileen smiled dully. "Sometimes, I think you're not so stupid, kingling."
He still had enough pride to be stung. "And sometimes, I thought you weren't a monster. We underestimated each other."
She held his eyes for another prolonged second, committing this moment to memory, likely, before she flicked her wrist and all the men still standing, and some not, swivelled on him, swords raised.
Natsu wasted what precious little magic he had left, burning them to the ground. He said a prayer for each he destroyed. It was not their fault they fought against evil incarnate. It was not their fault Eileen was unchallenged in the art of murder. It was not their fault. It was not their fault. But those that were not yet dead would die, and those that were would be again brutalized for no sound reason other than Eileen's greed.
Natsu felt his flames gutter, go out. Again, he used his sword. That faltered, too. He was tired. Gods. So tired.
"You can't kill them all," Eileen said as more and more men gathered. Some were soaking wet, bashed open, as though they'd crawled out of the stormy sea. An army of the dead, and he was but one man, he—
Ice cracked over the ground, freezing lumbering men in place. Water rushed from nowhere, flushing them away.
Natsu swivelled. Gray and Juvia stood hip to hip, chests heaving, blood slicking their skin, as though they'd run through a gauntlet just to get here. Hope swelled in Natsu's chest. He grinned wildly at them.
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it." Gray froze a man with a bow in his tracks, and then another that struggled to make it through the sea of downed bodies. Juvia tore another to bits with the force of a water spell.
Magic coiled through the air. Natsu looked away from them, trusting them to handle themselves, and refocused on Eileen. She stood with her hands out and her head back. He recognized the stance this time and was prepared for the flurry of explosions that followed.
He was not hit.
He called the fire from Eileen's spell into himself, surrounded himself with its pricking flames, felt it feed the sputtering candle inside him.
It felt good. It did not feel like enough. But when the last bit of flame had been swallowed, he thought of Igneel, thought of the heat and intensity of the dragon's flames, and willed his to mimic them, pushed himself past his own limits, so when he breathed the fire out again and they surrounded Eileen, it was as if a dragon had done it, and not a man.
It was brilliant.
It was ruinous.
It was marvellous to see the extent of one's power of destruction when one tried.
When the smoke had cleared, Eileen was picking herself up off the ground. Her flesh sagged, black in places, and her eyes were full of dull fury. They had crossed a line, Natsu realized, and there was no going back from it.
Her skin started to change first, becoming hardened with scales, then the shape of her body, like she was stretching back into the form that fit her best.
Natsu heard Juvia and Gray gasp, heard the screams of anyone near enough to see the monster Eileen was becoming. He wanted to scream himself. He wanted to find a place outside of Eileen's rage. He wanted to do anything but stand where he was and face her down. But that's what he did because that's what kings did for their people. They took on the impossible. At least, that's the kind of king he wanted to be if he must be a king at all.
He forgot about such romantic ideas when Eileen took to the air and leveled the countryside with a breath attack four times as powerful as Natsu's. People died. In a blink. No warning, no preparation. Just gone.
She could have destroyed him, too, with that blast, but she chose not to, to make him suffer the injustice of it all, make him see all the people he failed before she finally cut the thread of his life.
A broken tree teetered above him and began to fall. Natsu watched it happen in slow motion, coming to terms with his fate (he wouldn't be the first person to be crushed by a pine today,) but still, was unable to move.
Hands closed around his middle and pulled him back, out of danger. As the dust settled, Natsu looked up into Happy's concerned face. Lucy leaned against a more solid tree beside him. She wheezed in a smoky breath, choked, and shivered. There was something very wrong with her.
"Magic shock," Lucy gasped at his unasked question.
She'd run herself almost completely dry.
He wanted to tell her to find someplace safe to rest away from the dragon but could not get the words when she pulled herself upright, closed her eyes, and glowed with the magic of the Celestial Realm.
It sputtered like nothing was going to happen, a flame trying to catch on an empty lighter, when she found a bit of fuel from somewhere and accomplished her task.
A door opened before her and a figure stumbled out on its hands and knees. Natsu squinted against the bright light. It faded rather quickly and soon he could see dark hair, olive coloured skin, dark eyes.
Zeref.
Dishevelled, burned, injured.
Alive.
Alive.
A/N: I have a huge flair for the dramatic and a firm belief that a chapter should end when I'm ready for it to so this is WHAT YOU GET.
Merry Christmas. Ily. Please, stay safe everyone. Please, for the love of all that's holy. Stay safe. Stay sane.
(I'll finish this soon I soo soo soo sooo soooooo promise.)