She knows he knows she's behind him, or at least, someone is, judging by the way his long ears twitch, and he whirls around, only to crumple like a wet blanket when his legs fail him. And while she isn't a sensor like Lura or Saol, she still knows the moment he realizes who she is, and the tension – and fear , but she must've been seeing things – bleed out of him.
"Wendy." He croaks, relief saturating his tone as he pushes off the ground to rearrange himself into a more comfortable position. And for all that Wendy looks like a child, she is still an adult – if not in body, then in mind – she still went through more years of training and study than how old she looks, always knows instinctively when one of her own is in pain.
The red-head – Ezra? – carries over the bleeding and limp form of their sides' ice mage from his place on the floor. She casts an appraising eye over the three of them, taking stock of their injuries and arranging them by priority. Thankfully, none of them seemed to be severe, life-threatening or requiring any immediate attention except for the gash and hole his opponent had rendered in his torso.
The ice mage tries to curl up in pain as she pokes and prods at the damage, but the firm hand she and Erza had on his legs and shoulders kept him from moving too much.
Her hands hover over the most significant wound he had; one that cut right over a burn pattern she recognized from Natsu and finished just at the edge of another slice, this one small, and very old. She could feel the strain the healing was putting on her core, having only just regenerated a quarter of her reserves, but she ignored it; the injuries on the people her packmates and their summoner considered almost-family took precedence.
Without her consent, her tongue flicks out to touch the space her left incisor would grow into, a nervous habit she had developed over the last few weeks. Mesec had caught her once, with the tip poking out as she mended the broken ankle of a farmer. He hadn't stopped teasing her for weeks.
She almost manages to stifle the shout of surprise when something sharp stabs it, but a muffled squeak still escapes her and draws the notice of the two currently conscious mages around her. Natsu gives her a knowing and amused smile, flashing half a tooth as he smirks, utterly aware of what happened. Erza stares at them both in confusion for a minute, before she shakes her head and refocuses' on bandaging the minor wounds she and Gray sport.
Very abruptly, Natsu jerks into an upright position, paying no mind to the weakness that he'd previously had – and was possibly still – in his limbs. A stray rock finds its way underneath his foot, and both she and Erza reach out to steady him as he goes down, but he manages to get his legs back underneath him and stumble over to Lucy's prone form.
Returning her attention to the mage under her hands – and away from the agonized screaming – she finished healing the puncture in his side up to where they could bandage it safely and have it heal over the next few weeks naturally.
Each of his injuries was at a level that they would be fine without any more interference on her part, only requiring a few salves and bandages to heal fully. And with great timing too, her levels had returned to low enough that using any more magic would damage her. Sometimes – no, most of the time – she cursed this small body of hers, wishing for the more expansive and stronger core and systems of her adult form.
Healing both Lucy and the ice mage wouldn't have been much of a bother before, and she possibly could've joined her packmates in fighting or protecting, instead of being the one they fought for or protected. It left a bubbling, envious lump in her stomach, one she didn't even want. But when were ever emotions logical?
Lucy's screams were being harder and harder to block out, now that healing wasn't requiring all of her attention, and she risked a glance over to the group of seven, curious about what was happening.
And despite being one of the best healers in this dimension – she didn't want to think about there being no other dimensions for her to be the best in – she didn't recognize the technique they were using, not for at least a few, precious, seconds. But, when she did, it took everything she had left in her, energy, magic, consciousness, to muster the most authoritative tone she could, letting her years – centuries – of herding her less… controlled, siblings, bolster her voice.
She could tell her order made their hackles rise – not as much as they would, had it come from anybody but one of them. But she was not part of their brood, and their instincts would not tolerate a demand from anybody but their summoner – but they did do as she said and stopped just flooding their magic into her systems.
Natsu snarled at her as she approached, but did not make any further moves, possibly recognizing her as someone who could help, or maybe it was just the pack-bond at work. She settled herself a suitable distance that was far enough away that they didn't feel threatened, but also close enough that she could see what they were doing and guide them. Then instructed Amanzi to wind her magic through Lucy's systems, and wrap around her core, repairing what she could.
Cobra, who was closest to her, was steadily inching away, highly uncomfortable with the number of people near him, but also wanting to be close to Lucy.
She could understand the feeling; she was so ready to crash into her bed and just sleep .
For a year .
Just as she finished guiding Lura through to Lucy's core, the ground quaked.
Deliora had awoken.
Gray had fallen.
Thrown off his high horse by his Ice Dragon's tail.
Left to bleed out in front of all his little friends he called 'Nakama'. How pathetic.
He knew he was gloating; how could he not be? He had defeated Ur's precious pupil. The one she had sacrificed her life to save. Why couldn't you live? You're no use to us dead.
Now all that was left was to revive Deliora, to prove he had surpassed her in every way. Zalty had done their job, recover the demon enough that it could regenerate its stores by stealing from another mage. That it was the blond 'comrade' of Gray's was just the icing on the cake.
Pity that the pink-haired one and the rest who felt strange had saved her before she died, but now they were all only slightly more than useless, while he had three, uninjured and ready mages behind him.
Speak of the Devil, and they shall appear.
It was fitting, considering he had just been musing about Zalty, and they'd picked this time to glide out from behind an outcrop, hovering just above the ground as they spoke.
"Reitei. Angelica, Toby, Yuka, and now Sherry are all defeated." There's no sugar-coating; they knew he'd only get more pissed off if he thought they saw him weak enough to require it. And they were right, but now more than ever he wished, that once, just once, that things would go his way.
Harsh silence settles over them both, but when he does eventually speak, his tone is colder than the peaks of the ice mountains in Isvan. " What." His magic starts to crystalize around his feet, jagged spikes and crevices shifting and moving as his fury wanes and rises with each passing second.
"It's as I say, Yuka, Tobi, and Sherry and her rat, have been defeated by the various members of the guild before us." They sweep a hand down to Faerie Tale, where they'd bunched together as to keep all of them safe, low on magic as they were. One of them, a male with maroon hair and bubbling purple magic, locks eyes with him and mimics winding up a toy with his right hand, and slowly raises his left middle finger, smiling pleasantly.
He lets the offence slide; being angry at someone who was about to die was only a waste of energy. Seeing as Zalty had returned to his side, and the wall of magic pressure had faded away, Deliora, the demon who had killed his mentor( parent ), had been revived. He directed his Ice Dragon upwards, getting far enough away that Deliora couldn't just sweep his hand to the side and obliterate the two of them.
But it wouldn't move, and when he takes another look, he can discern the subtle differences between the blue ice that belongs to Gray – pinning down his Dragon in key spots; making sure it wouldn't be able to move, and there's the symbol of his guild, right in the centre of its forehead, glowing brightly – and his own greener ice.
It takes him a second to recognize the move, but he can't help his flinch when he does. Ice-Make: Hijack; a spell that when the caster has ample time to prepare, can hijack any Maker creation, given that it's not moving. It only works with static Maker types, but there's a dynamic Maker version; Ice-Make: Parasite. Unfortunately, Parasite only works on dynamic creations, but it does have the benefit of not costing as much magic.
Ur had warned them not to use it until they were older and had joined a guild, she'd said to them: 'Promise me you won't even attempt to practice these spells until you're a young adult and you've joined a guild. Promise me . ' He and Gray had adhered to that promise, and eventually, the spell had slipped from their minds, but he couldn't believe he'd mastered it, the most advanced magic their teacher had ever even mentioned to them.
He knew why of course, why Ur had warned them, made them promise not to use it until later; the requirements; blood, magic and willpower, far more than they could safely provide at the time, in their child, then teen, bodies. But, no matter which angle he pondered it from, he still couldn't figure out why she'd said to join a guild first. He thought he'd understood a little when he saw Gray and his precious Nakama fight side by side, watching their backs for knives, but the answer still eluded him.
But Gray, Ur's second student (was he not good enough?) had done it first. He doesn't have the time to muse any longer, and he curses his inattentiveness as he jumps away from flying arrows – ice and real – several of them only missing by a hair's breadth.
As soon as the arrows pass by, they dissolve into shards of ice and glittering golden sparks, with the horse-man? following soon after. The maroon haired male and his off-putting friends have disappeared, but that wasn't a concern, given that he has both a demon and several dragons staring him down.
He feels like fainting.
Since she'd woken, she'd felt like going back to the blissful nothingness of unconsciousness, because really, did the universe not know that having high levels of stress was counter-intuitive to healing wounds? Especially ones as bad as hers?
She'd known she'd be weak for quite a while, even with how much the magic transfer and Wendy had healed her, but did she actually need to fight both a megalomaniac and a demon? Right after nearly dying to revive said demon and being pierced by magic destroying and sealing shards of ice?
Honestly, the demon was the least of her worries; her Draconis could take care of it no sweat, Dragons were more powerful than both Demons and Gods. The problem lay with the one called Reitei and the mysterious pursuer from back when they were still wandering the cave systems.
From here, he can hear him curse Gray's name – do they know each other or something? – and tell someone called Zalty to help him.
She didn't bother to hold back a scoff; he'd need the help.
Okay, so maybe she'd gotten a bit cocky. The only reason she was keeping up with the two was Wendy, healing and supporting her with what little magic she had left and Mesec making barriers and rune-traps whenever he had the opportunity.
The Draconis drew some magic from the Spirit World and the ethernano around them, yes, but the majority of it came from her, and Zivel only increased that. She'd already had to send back the Zodiac – not without a lecture from both Loke and Aquarius first, and the arrows Sagittarius had fired at Reitei's ugly mug – just to keep her levels at a reasonable amount.
Meaning just high enough that she wouldn't stagger. Or die.
Zivel upped her magic intake, but it also upped her magic output, so as long as she stayed at this pace, she'd be fine.
She should've kept her big mouth shut.
Really, she knew the universe was keeping its evil eye on her – what other explanation was there? – and made sure that everything that could go wrong, did.
Murphy's fucking law.
Mesec and Wendy had run their reserves dry, and, as it turns out, fighting a demon is as hard as sounds, harder even.
Zalty – the mage with the magic he called Arc of Time – didn't have much offensive power, preferring to freeze the balls of magic she was throwing out and releasing them right back at her. Reitei, the ice mage – like Gray – used Dynamic Maker-Magic, which meant not only did she have to dodge her own attacks, but also several Dragons, Apes, Tigers and every other thing he could think of too.
She was just about ready to go Fuck It and drop into Dvasia. And she would if her two opponents would give her the space to do so .
Lyon had changed. No longer was he the wide-eyed boy he'd shared a master with, so eager to learn. Now, he was a cold – hah! – unfeeling, bastard.
There was a saying; You could discern everything about your opponent through a fight – or something along those lines – and it was true, he knew all the little facets of his personality, but it was like looking at him through a mirror, everything was… wrong .
This was not who he'd grown up with.
This was not who he should've fought.
This was a monster. Someone who'd become the very thing he was trying to defeat.
A monster could not comprehend the meaning of friendship or comrades or family, could only focus on their goal.
A monster did not have to look like one.
