CHAPTER 11: MEMORIAL
I would have won that brawl if had my armour on.
It had been two days but the mage still wore that damned grin on his face every time he saw Erza. Or every time she spoke. Suddenly, his fear for her had faded, and she hadn't decided if it was good or not. It was late afternoon, and he had already been training with Lucy for hours. Smirking insolently, he glanced over his shoulder before summoning a flame atronach. Erza sighed at the authority she had lost in Ivarstead.
The narrow path zigzagged down the mountain's side. Erza could see all over the volcanic tundra of Eastmarch from there, opening vast and beautiful in front of her eyes. Erza was looking forward to a bath in the hot springs. She always stopped by whenever she was around the area. Nothing made her tired muscles more relaxed. The sabre cats who lived there made her nervous, though. And the giants with their mammoths. Most of the time the giants were peaceful, but she wasn't sure if Natsu would hold back the urge to provoke them. Erza had seen what the giant's club did to a man – it would surely send him flying up to the Secunda.
Erza walked behind those two, vaguely keeping an eye out for them. She was ready to call them out if needed, but at least for today, Natsu's flames had stayed contained and Lucy's arrows hadn't hit anything or anyone except the trees. Maybe the mage had actually understood that a mentor was supposed to keep their apprentice alive. Erza wiped the scarlet locks from her face, gently smiling at the process Natsu had made. She still remembered him as he had been two years ago. He had been just a defiant and stubborn brat, but now he was slowly becoming a man.
The weather was pleasant, warm enough to let them pack their cloaks for the day. Sunlight glistened on the dim steel Erza was clad in. She would need to polish her armour once she'd get back to Whiterun, but in fact, she preferred her mail that way, old and dented. Soldiers who ran into a battle in their brand-new, shining armour seldom made it back. Her steel had seen many battles and taken many hits, and because of those dints and scapes, she always made it back to Jorrvaskar. The brawl with Natsu made her realise she wasn't made of steel. Only her armour was.
Vilkas, her shield-brother always told her not to underestimate the little ones. They made up for in agility what they lacked in strength. Her confidence failed her this time. The mage had been stronger than he looked like, a lot stronger than two years ago – when she had worn her armour. She had forgotten how it felt like to be punched directly to the muscle with no steel suppressing the blow. Damn, her bruises still hurt. But the wound her pride suffered, that would heal so much slower. Losing a hundred gold was nothing, but to lose a fistfight to a skinny mage? Gods, she was so glad no-one from the Companions was there to witness her grand defeat.
Well, maybe now Natsu would stop whining about his rib-bones. Maybe it was more of a wound of his pride in the end, that debt now repaid.
A firebolt flew past her head. Her shoulders tensed, but she didn't bother to yell. She had kept a fair distance to those two and knew they wouldn't see her disapproving frown. Lucy waved her hand as an apology. Barely hearing what the blonde said to the mage, Erza figured she gave him a lecture in her stead. The flame atronach disappeared back to Oblivion, and fireballs no longer flew, letting the journey continue in peace.
The two last days had been peaceful indeed. They had seen a sleeping sabre cat but managed to sneak past it. Otherwise, there had been no troubles on their road. Erza had agreed to escort them to Kynesgrove the morning they left Ivarstead. There they would part ways, but she was sure they would make it to Winterhold on their own from there. Lucy had already made great process. Her determination to become a mage shone through her, and she wouldn't let anything stand in the way of her dream. Not even death.
Natsu and Lucy reached the road below and turned left, running to the bridge which crossed the river. Erza heard the waterfall roaring even from there. They had walked past many waterfalls of the Darkwater River, but the one which ended in White River was the most majestic of them all. Erza would allow them to adore it for a while until she'd climbed down the path, but then it would be time to go. She planned to spend the next night in Darkwater Crossing, a small mining settlement just by the river. Natsu fiercely opposed the idea, for it was the place where the Imperials had ambushed Ulfric Stormcloack. Erza had to convince him that the soldiers probably didn't have any interest in capturing him again. Compared to a living dragon, a little mage couldn't be high on their list of concern.
Erza jumped over the brook, setting her foot on the stone-covered road. She stretched her legs which ached from the long descent. A level surface to walk on was a welcomed change. Erza raised her eyes from the ground. A group of people clad in black robes approached on the other side of the bridge. The warrior pinched her brows together when one of them stopped next to Natsu. Erza saw his pointy elven ears through his long, black hair. From his ashen grey skin, she recognised him as a Dark Elf.
"Hey, what are you doing in my robes?" the man asked, his voice carrying all the way to Erza.
Smelling trouble, Erza walked closer to the bridge. Natsu let go of the railing, turning towards the approacher with a confused look on his face. Judging from the patterns in their robes they were elven necromancers. Erza counted two women and one man, making three of them altogether.
"What?" Natsu asked.
The elf took a closer look at his clothes, clearly making the mage nervous. "Those are definitely my spare robes. And that silver around her neck is mine, too."
Lucy stepped behind Natsu when the man's bright red eyes found her jewel. Erza grabbed the hilt of her sword, ready to draw it in case they turned hostile.
"Well, finders, keepers", Natsu hissed. "Creep."
The Dark Elf's presence filled with resentment. Erza stopped where the bridge began to keep a distance. Mages were unpredictable for the level of their skills couldn't be seen from the outside. Some of their robes showed their ranks, but Erza was unfamiliar to the mage's code of hierarchy.
"I'm not going to let you walk away with my stuff, thief."
Natsu frowned. "Wait, I'd just give these robes back to you right now, right here? You really want to see me naked that bad?" He stepped closer to the elf and grinned wickedly. "I bet you'd get scared of my huge -"
"Quit it, Natsu!" Lucy cut him off, squeezing her eyes closed. She grabbed Natsu's sleeve and pulled him away from the elf. "I'm sorry, I'm sure there's a way to settle this thing without violence. You can have this amulet back, but can you please let him keep the robes? Deal?"
The Dark Elf stepped back, raising his eyebrows. "Natsu?"
"You know me?"
"You're Natsu of Dragonbridge?"
Erza let her sword go as the tension in the air vanished. Those were the necromancers from Clavicus Vile's shrine, and it unsettled her that they knew him.
Natsu leaned to the railing again, but his fists were still clenched in tight fists. "Yeah, what about it?"
"Damn, I didn't recognise you. You've grown so much", the Dark Elf said, spreading his arms. "I don't expect you to remember me. You had just joined when I left the College."
The two women, both Wood Elves, exchanged confused gazes. Erza kept an eye out for them, but they didn't seem hostile either. It was still better to be safe than sorry. Even if that man was from the College, it didn't mean he could be trusted. In her books, no-one from the College could be trusted by default.
Natsu stared at him, clearly failing to recognise him. "And you are…?"
"Felrys, Igneel's older cousin", the elf introduced himself, making Natsu's eyes widen. "How strange. I had a bizarre dream about him just recently. It has been years since we last met. How's he doing now?"
Erza bit her lip as Natsu's head fell down in silence. She had experienced the rawness of that wound very personally. Unlike that time, no anger gleamed in his eyes and no flames sparked in his fists. Lucy hadn't let go of his sleeve, and Erza had a feeling she helped him remain calm. He wouldn't let his feelings explode around Lucy.
The Dark Elf's mouth opened, shock and sorrow creeping up to his face. When Natsu finally spoke, the silence had lasted long enough to let him know what happened to Igneel.
"He's dead", he whispered, quiet as a breath of wind. "Imperials executed him in Helgen a week ago."
Felrys flinched as if he had hoped to hear something better. Reality had a tendency to crush such hopes, at least in dark times like this. "Sheogorath's beard… Azura bless his soul", he offered condolences, his gaze falling to the ground.
"Yeah."
"Did you give him to the fire?"
Erza felt cold shivers running down her spine. In Helgen she had seen how the mage cremated a corpse and smashed the wooden block with an axe, but she hadn't even batted an eye for it. She should have realised he had lost someone important instead of reacting with such indifference.
Natsu nodded. "Yes, I burned him so he might return to the ash from whence he came."
Felrys gave him a small bow as thanks. Burning the dead was a Dunmer funeral custom. They believed that death was not the end, but a beginning.
"Come to think of it, I borrowed some things from him a long time ago", Felrys told, his words shivering from the lingering grief. "I was supposed to return them, but never got a chance. Would you take them now, and at least bring them back to the College?"
Natsu looked at Felrys, thinking for a moment before he nodded again.
"I got nothing to remember him from. I'd gladly take them."
"That's good. We were going to check our fish traps in the river. Would you want to come with us to our settlement in Fort Amol? I'd want to have a memorial of sort for my dear cousin. Let us raise a toast for his memory?"
The mage smiled sorrowfully. However, Erza did not like that. She stepped forward, finally making them notice her. Her plan was absolute and not to be disrupted.
"Thank you, but we were going to -"
"Okay", Natsu spoke over her. "We'll come."
"But -"
"You go to that Crapwater Crossing if you want, I'm not setting my foot on that Imperial ambush. I'm going. What about you, Lucy?"
Meekly, the blonde glanced at the warrior. Erza could tell it from her eyes that she wanted to go with him.
"I'll… I'll come, too."
Erza sighed and crossed her arms on her chest. If those two would go, it meant she had to go too. She wouldn't let them go alone.
"That sounds great. Wait on this bridge, we'll come back in a second", Felrys said and gestured towards the Wood Elves. Then they set forth and quickly disappeared from the road. When they were gone, Erza walked to Natsu, not hiding her disapproval.
"Did you actually get us into a necromancer's party?" Erza asked. The mage turned his back at her to gaze into the waterfall, his retort buried under the gush.
Despite being a memorial, the mood in the dining hall was rather high.
Fort Amol was a traditional Nordic stronghold with a courtyard in the center, surrounded by two main buildings. The prison was said to be plagued by skeevers, but the main keep was clear of that problem. It had been abandoned for years until the group of necromancers claimed it theirs. If not counting a brief visit to the barracks in the ruined Helgen keep, Lucy had never been in a castle. And she wasn't very impressed.
Lucy sat tight on the bench next to Natsu, locking her eyes on the bowl in front of her. The mages served fresh fish soup with bread, wine and ale. She enjoyed the meal, but the company wasn't what she had expected. Dozens of stories about magic were told, but she didn't have a single word to add to the conversation. They spoke of spells and enchantments and it all was like a foreign language Lucy couldn't understand. Feeling such an outsider she sank into silence, staring at the mages under her brows.
A Wood Elf woman sat opposite to them, leaning her elbows to the table. Lucy had seen her on the bridge earlier but didn't remember her name. She didn't speak much either, but her dreamy elven eyes fixated to the pink-haired mage. Natsu didn't even notice, for he was too focused on sharing stories with Igneel's cousin and his friends. Lucy had lost count how many tankards of ale he had emptied. Natsu had told about how he fell down the stairs of Labyrinthian at least three times already, marking he had a little more than enough to drink.
"… when Igneel got really, reeally drunk, he started to... to see dwarves. He shouted 'I saw a dwarf! I did! I did!' in the middle of a goddamn city." Natsu broke into laughter. "And I yelled 'No, sorry, no dwarf!' when people stared at us..."
Lucy heard how alcohol made him stammer, changing his voice to something she no longer recognised. Back in Ivarstead, he had only taken an ale or two with absolutely no effect. Being around him when he was drunk felt like being around a stranger. With loneliness building up in her chest, she finished her meal and excluded herself. He didn't notice when she left the table.
Lucy walked to the corner of the hall where the chatter and laughter faded. Bookshelves leaned to the stone walls inviting her to take a better look. A torch on the wall gave warm, soft light, just enough for her to read. Books never failed to bring her comfort.
Lucy traced her finger across the backs of the books, reading their names. Ancestors and the Dunmer, Azura and the Box, Battle of Sancre Tor, Darkest Darkness… When she was sure she wouldn't find anything interesting to read, her finger stopped at a certain book. A lump formed in her throat. A Dream of Sovngarde. It was a Nord soldier's account of visiting the afterlife in a dream. Her parents had a copy of that book at home. She had read it a few times before. Lucy opened the book and skimmed through the pages, searching for the one specific part which had imprinted in her memory forever.
The writer was about to die in a few hours so he prayed for Talor to get some encouragement. His prayers were answered when sleep carried him to Sovngarde. He had crossed a great bridge made of whale-bone and entered the Hall of Valor, meeting the greatest heroes of all Nords. There he had found Ysgamor, the father of Skyrim. He asked for his council for his heart was full of fear in front of the desperate battle he was going to face. Ysgamor had raised his tankard to his lips and drank until it was empty. Then he spoke again, and Lucy the part she was looking for.
"Remember this always, son of the north - a Nord is judged not by the manner in which he lived, but the manner in which he died."
The words had brought her comfort and courage when she read them as a child. Her great-grandmother Anna had died in a battle, so Lucy believed her soul had travelled to Sovngarde. Lucy dreamt of becoming a hero herself so she would meet Anna in the afterlife, but now when death had touched her life for the first time, she wanted to smack herself for ever thinking. How naive that had been. Her parents did not die in a battle, so their souls wound up somewhere in the Aetherius to wait for the end of the world. She couldn't even build a grave for their memory, for nothing but ashes remained of them.
Lucy closed the book and put it back to the shelf. Her hands trembled as her throat tightened, images from Helgen flashing in her mind again. There was no memorial for them, no-one to ask what happened to them, not a distant relative to share her sorrow with. Everyone she had ever known was dead.
She peeked over her shoulder. Natsu raised his tankard of ale, his voice getting louder the more he drank. Her blood rushed in her ears, words blending to the screams arising from her memory. She stared at the merry group, her arms limp and lifeless on her sides. Suddenly it truly dawned to her she would never go home again. She'd never hug her mother again, or see her father's smile. Yes, she had prayed for an adventure, but what adventure would it be if there was no place to go back to after it'd be over?
"Are you okay, Lucy?"
Lucy turned towards the voice which interrupted her melancholy. Erza appeared from the shadows, for she hadn't taken any part in the feast. The moment they had set their feet inside, she had disappeared to the loneliest corner of the castle. Lucy wanted to lie but knew the warrior would see through that. "Actually, I'm not."
The warrior shrugged. She had expected that answer. "We can still go to Darkwater Crossing if you want. It's not like he'll mind. It's safe there."
Erza clearly didn't trust the necromancers, but where she came from, Lucy understood her. But to Lucy, those mages seemed just like any other people having a feast. She believed they'd be safe there. She even preferred to have a roof over her head after spending two nights in a tent.
"It's not that", Lucy whispered, shaking her head. "I just… I'd want to have a memorial for my parents. They died that day, too."
Erza gave her a sympathetic smile, her eyes filling with warmth. She didn't say anything as she walked to the dinner table to grab two goblets. The warrior filled them with wine, brought them back and gave one to Lucy. She raised her drink, looking down in honour.
"Which were your parent's names?"
"Layla and Jude Heartfilia."
Erza nodded before starting to speak. "Before the ancient flame, we grieve. At this loss, we weep. For the fallen, we shout. And for ourselves, we take our leave."
Lucy sipped from the goblet, cringing at the sour taste. Those were lines of Companions funeral custom, and she felt more than honoured to hear them for her parents' sake. A moment of silence followed, raising tears in Lucy's eyes, but it was all she needed to carry on. For herself, she had to take her leave.
"So you're Lucy Heartfilia, right? I didn't realise. I've heard your family business was successful."
Lucy's finger squeezed around the goblet. The wine oscillated as her hand shivered. "Our shop did well, but we weren't that rich. My father's family kept that store for generations."
"It's a good sing when a store actually stays in business for generations."
She smiled softly – she knew many other stores weren't as lucky. Her father was a really talented vendor who always managed to bargain the best prices. She never lacked anything in her childhood, and maybe it was the easy life which made her reach for the stars. It was the nature of a human being to look for a challenge.
"Where are you from, Erza?"
The warrior glanced at the mages. None of them paid any attention to her and Lucy, but Erza still gestured backwards, pointing to the most distant corner of the hall. There were two chairs around a wooden table, and a fireplace providing warmth and dim light. Lucy took the hint and followed the warrior as they walked there, the laughter and drinking songs fading to the background.
Erza seated and drank her wine as if she needed alcohol's courage to open up. "I'm from Rorikstead."
"Oh", Lucy exhaled and sat down. "I thought you were from Whiterun."
"Not at all. The first time I visited Whiterun was when I joined the Companions. Rorikstead was the only place I knew."
"It would be a shame to know nothing more than the town where you were born, right?"
Erza chuckled dryly.
"That's true. Leaving was the best decision of my life."
"Got no ties there?"
The warrior shook her head. "None."
"No family?"
Her silence made Lucy regret her question. It seemed the steel plate wasn't the only armour Erza wore. She was shrouded in mystery. How in the Oblivion had Natsu learned she had ties to the Dark Brotherhood? Erza took another sip, and it dawned to Lucy that alcohol had made her slip.
"My mother was a waitress in the Frostfruit Inn", Erza started, keeping her voice low. "And my father was a soldier in the Great War. I was a result of a night my father spent in the inn on his way to the battle. He promised to return to my mother, but never did."
Lucy swallowed. Erza didn't need to tell what happened to her father, for Lucy already knew. The Great War between the Aldmeri Dominion and the Empire had heavy casualties on both sides, and Erza's father was one of them.
"I'm sorry", Lucy whispered, not knowing anything else to say.
"Don't be. My mother was a strong woman, and she raised me alone for the first six years. Then she got a better-paying job from Solitude."
Lucy raised her brows, remembering Erza had never left her hometown. "She left you in Rorikstead?"
"I didn't want to go", Erza answered. "I fought her with a stick when she tried to take me with her."
Lucy chuckled. "I can imagine that."
"It was because of my closest friend. I didn't want to leave him behind. His family had a little farm, so they took me in. I lived there helping with the animals and the crops until my friend moved to Cyrodiil. Then was my time to find my own path, too."
The Great War ended 26 years ago, so Lucy counted Erza had to be at least 25. Farmers and Companions truly had different ways of life, and Lucy adored Erza's courage to take a leap that great. Her leap from a merchant to a mage wasn't the smallest either, and sometimes she felt terrified of the path she had chosen.
"Did you always know you'd want to be a Companion?"
"Not always", the warrior said, surprising Lucy. Her lips twitched into a smile. "When I was a child I wanted to be a baker. And to be honest, I still like to surprise my fellow Companions with a cake from time to time."
"Really? I'm miserable at baking. I always burn everything I cook."
"Like an alchemy lab?"
Lucy sneered. "Exactly. Why did I ever think I'd learn alchemy?"
"It was your first try. You'll do better next time. It's astonishing how fast you've learned magic, considering you don't have the best mentor."
There was no sarcasm in Erza's tone. The compliment meant more to Lucy than she could ever explain. Lately, she had been drowning in self-doubt and envy. Natsu's skills made her question if she was even capable of becoming a mage at all.
"What about you, did you always want to become a wizard?" Erza asked. "That's an unusual dream for a Nord."
"Yes", Lucy answered without a second's hesitation. She couldn't remember dreaming of anything else. "And that dream wasn't well-received in a Nord merchant family."
"I know. But you'll live your own life, making your own path. It takes a lot of strength and courage, but I'm sure your ancestors are smiling at you."
Lucy smiled at her, hoping that was true. Maybe her parents would smile at her too. Her dream of magic was the light in the darkest time of her life, and now it was coming true. Slowly, but surely. She just had to believe in herself.
The bridge of her thoughts led to the fire mage. Lucy took a look at the dinner table and found him at the same spot where she had left him. The smile on her face faded when she noticed the Wood Elf climbing over the table, seating herself on Natsu's thigh.
"Excuse me?" Lucy heard him say. His brows furrowed as he drank his ale, confusedly looking at the woman. He swayed from side to side, struggling to sit straight. He was totally wasted. Lucy hadn't paid any attention to the conversations of the table, but now she heard everything they said.
"My sir, I heard you got something huge under your robes?" the Wood Elf flirted, blinking her large, pitch-black eyes.
"Yeah, whatabout it?"
The woman played with her amber curls, twirling a lock around her finger. "Mind showing it to me?"
"Sure, yeah, whatever", Natsu answered, slightly opening the wrap of his clothes, revealing his side. "This huge-ass scar, I got it… damn, how did I get it… I don't even remember..."
"I… I thought you… meant something else..."
"Like what?"
The Wood Elf bit her lip, unsure what to do with his cluelessness.
"Uhm, I..."
The frown on his face deepened as he stared at the woman, his mind working hard to figure out what she was about. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned closer to whisper something in his ear.
"That's what you thought!?" Natsu exclaimed and pushed the woman away from him. She shrieked as she dropped to the floor from his lap. "Why'd you think I… I'd mean... that? Damn pervert..."
Lucy buried her face into her hands to muffle her giggling as well as hide the blush creeping to her cheeks. The elven woman got herself back up, frustration and embarrassment mixing up on her face. Lucy felt pretty stupid. She didn't think of herself as a pervert, but she had thought about that. How could he be so oblivious? And what kind of a man boasted about his scars? All young men she had known definitely boasted about something else...
"That guy is never going to get himself a woman", Erza laughed. "Never."
Lucy agreed. "It doesn't look like he even wants one…"
When the Wood Elf left him alone, Natsu noticed Lucy was missing from his side. He stared at the empty seat for a moment before raising his head and looking around. His face brightened when his eyes found Lucy, and he waved his hand to greet her as if they had been apart for a longer time than half an hour. He said something to Felrys before he got up and walked across the hall, his steps zigzagging along the way. The more Lucy witnessed of his drunken state, the more glad she was about not finishing even the first goblet of wine.
"Heeyyy, what's up?" he said merrily as he reached them, suddenly turning white as a ghost. "I… I think I'm gonna puke..."
Natsu grabbed the basket behind Lucy. Her eyes caught something purple inside, quickly recognising it as a book. As fast as a charging snake she saved the book right before Natsu shoved his head into the basket and threw up.
"Look where you puke, idiot! You almost ruined a book!"
"If it was kept in a bucket... it, it means... someone wiped their arse into it –"
Lucy cringed as he vomited again. She pitied him for getting himself into such a miserable condition so fast, but she guessed it was his way to handle his grief. When he was done, he lied down, close to Lucy's feet. Tightly hugging the bucket, he curled up like a cat. A really drunk cat.
"I'm… I'm gonna take a nap..." he muttered while his eyes slipped closed.
Lucy's legs tensed. "Seriously? At my feet?"
"I'm gonna take a nap right here..."
"Gods", Lucy sighed but didn't bother to kick him away either. He had gotten some of the alcohol out of his body and a little rest would hopefully restore him back to normal. She moved her gaze from the passed-out mage to the purple book in her lap. A daedric symbol was carved to its cover. A spellbook. Damn, she'd be so furious if Natsu had ruined that.
"Would you look at that", a man's voice said, having approached without Lucy's notice. Her eyes shoot up to Felrys. He wore a wide grin. "The whelp couldn't handle his drink."
Lucy fell into a shy silence, not knowing at all what to say. She looked at Natsu again, who was already tight asleep.
"Too much, too fast", Erza commented as she went to pick up Natsu's bucket. "He's so going to regret this tomorrow. Our travel schedule has no mercy." She probably meant she had no mercy, but Lucy stayed quiet about that. Erza left to empty the bucket outside, making Lucy happy. It didn't smell too good.
"Where are you headed?" Felrys asked when Erza was out of sight.
"To Winterhold", Lucy answered, gathering up her courage to talk to him. "I'm going to join the College."
"Oh really? Good luck with that."
Lucy was uncertain if his tone was mocking or encouraging. She had heard small glimpses of their conversation, and understood Felrys had been suspended from the College due to some 'failed experiments'. Lucy didn't want to know what kind of experiments those had been.
"I heard you studied there."
"Yes, yes, but it has been years. I was there at the same time with this moron's brother. I remember him well. I've never met a wizard that talented", Felrys said, briefly zoning out to visit his memories. "It was horrible, that what happened. Her death really shook the entire College like another Great Collapse."
Lucy winced, glancing at the sleeping mage beneath her feet. "Whose death?"
"Mavis was her name", the Dark Elf answered. "She was a skilled restoration wizard, beautiful and kind like a princess. She and Zeref were about to get married, but she died before the wedding. They were exploring a Dwemer ruin when something went wrong. He couldn't even retrieve her corpse."
"That's so sad."
"It was indeed. Zeref was crushed, and he disappeared a few months later. Some say he went to follow her, while some say he's still alive. No-one really knows what happened to him."
"Does Natsu know about that?"
"He does", Felrys said. "We told him everything when he came looking for his brother. I bet he doesn't really like to talk about him."
Lucy nodded. She had noticed the same thing, but she understood him. He was evasive when their discussions led to personal things. It was clear that there was so much pain lying beneath his silence.
"But what do we have here?" the Dark Elf switched the subject to something happier and pointed at the book in her hands.
"I… I saved it", Lucy whispered. "It was in the bucket."
"Ah. It's a Bound Bow spell. Take it if you want. If it was in the bucket, it means nobody will miss it."
Her eyes widened in excitement. "Really?"
"Sure. How long have you been practising magic?"
"For a few days..."
"Oh. Then it will be a while before you can use it, but don't get depressed about it. That's an adept level spell. If Phinis Gestor is still around in the College he can surely help you with that."
Lucy smiled shyly and pressed the book against her chest. She'd treasure the book and keep it safe until she'd learn it. Natsu had told her about Bound weapons. Those were ethereal versions of Daedric weapons, and incredibly strong. However, they had their own disadvantages. Using them cost a lot of magic, meaning they couldn't be conjured if the user was already out of magicka.
Felrys looked at Lucy from head to toes, shaking his head a bit. "No offence, but you don't look much like a mage in that leather suit."
"I know, but… I can't defend myself well, and..."
"Look, a mage's got to wear robes. Robes let us move freely and the enchantments aid with casting spells. Come with me, I'll check if we have something suitable for you."
Lucy's heart began to race in her chest. He wouldn't have to ask twice. She left Natsu to sleep on the floor as she followed Felrys upstairs.
Having a sensitive nose wasn't always a good thing. Erza had flushed the vomit bucket with water from the well, probably in vain, for she had a feeling he would need it again. By the time she got back, Lucy was missing, and Natsu was still lying on the ground. Suspecting Lucy had gone somewhere with the necromancer, Erza walked to Natsu and crouched next to him, gently patting him on the back. He groaned, cracking his cloudy eyes open.
Erza offered him her waterskin. "Take a drink."
"More wine? Oh, no…"
"It's water, idiot."
Hesitantly, he grabbed the waterskin and drank. Then he rolled back to his side and gladly took back the bucket, leaning into it. He stared into the distance as he clung on the verge of sleep until something flinched him up.
"Is that really Lucy?" he mumbled, gazing at the figure who had just appeared to the bottom end of the stairs. Erza turned her head from the mage and saw her, dressed in a long, black robe. A belt was wrapped around her waist and a large hood pulled over her head, revealing only a few locks of her fair hair. She radiated confidence. And magic.
"Now she looks like a mage", Natsu said and smirked before his head thudded against the floor as he passed out again.
If Erza ever had to define happiness, it was Lucy at that very moment.
