CHAPTER 59: A WOUNDED KILL


CW: Gore and blood in the opening sequence. The dream scene is based on a dream (or nightmare...) deliriousdonna once had and told me about! I wrote that in January or February, and finally got to use it, lol.

As a bonus, the dragon language sentences have translations in the ending notes :)


Endless like the Void itself, darkness unfolded around Natsu when he opened his eyes.

Cold moisture hung low in the air. It condensed into drops on his skin and dripped down, falling from his fingertips into nothingness, and never made a sound. He was sitting on a pitch-black rock, not knowing where, but this certainly wasn't the place where vampirism has once dragged his mind. This was a different kind of abyss, a chasm deep underground where no light could ever reach, quiet as a grave.

But when he listened closely, he heard someone singing in the distance. An echo, reverberation from the steep obsidian walls, a voice he could recognise even in death.

It was Lucy.

All fear and confusion vanished as he sprung up, jumped down from the rock and rushed forward in the darkness. His bare feet slipped on the stones and he fell, time and time again, but he always got back up. His knees and palms were torn open by the time he finally reached her voice, her light, the only light in the abyss.

An empyreal shine surrounded Lucy when he found her, a glow so bright that he went blind for a moment. Panting in exhaustion, he stopped, and listened as she sang.

"Dovahkiin, Dovahkiin, naal ok zin los vahriin, wah dein vokul mahfaeraak ahst vaal! Ahr fin norok paal graan fod nust hon zindro zaan, Dovahkiin fah hin kogaan mu draal!"

This was the same song she had hummed countless times, but never before had he heard the words. There had been no words to this melody, no rhymes or chants, never until now – and Natsu couldn't understand them. She sang in the language of the dragons. Stunned, he let his eyes adjust to her light. The first colour that appeared among the absolute whiteness was red. A bright, crimson shade of blood.

"Huzrah nu, kul do od, wah aan bok lingrah vod, ahrk fin tey, boziik fun, do fin gein! Wo lost fron wah ney dov, ahrk fin reyliik do jul, voth aan suleyk wah ronit faal krein!"

The blood covered Lucy's fingers. It flowed down her arms, but she didn't seem to be in pain. Her voice didn't shiver, not at all. There was pride in her words, the unmatched arrogance of a dragon who had just slain a great foe. Still shocked, frozen in his place, Natsu watched as she sunk her hands into a shredded corpse that lay beside her. A wet sound of blood-smeared flesh being torn from bones echoed faintly among her song, and only when Lucy put the meat into a scaled creature's mouth, Natsu realised she was feeding a hatchling of a dragon.

Eagerly, the little dragon swallowed the piece, its sharp fangs stained red. Then it began shrieking for more, and so Lucy sunk her hands into the corpse once again, cracking the rib bones to reach the heart that beat no more. Her thin fingers clutched around the still heart as she violently tore it out of the body, long veins hanging from it like strings. Natsu began to tremble from terror as Lucy smiled and stroked the dragon's small head like it was her own child. With a loving gaze in her eyes, she fed the heart to the dragon, and continued singing.

"Ahrk fin zul, rok drey kod, nau tol morokei frod, rul lot Taazokaan motaad voth kein! Sahrot Thu'um, med aan tuz, bey zeim hokoron pah, ol fin Dovahkiin komeyt ok rein!"

Behind her, there were two more eggs. One of them was black, the other was red, and they were both covered in scales. Protected by ethereal force, Natsu couldn't take a single step closer to the nest – only gods knew what would happen to him if he did. The light around Lucy formed into wings growing from her back, and under those wings, she kept her children safe from everything. She had lost a child once, and would never again lose another one. Tears welled up in Natsu's eyes, from both beauty and the horror of the scene, as if his own heart was ripped out too, by the strength of her song.

"Ark fin Kel lost prodah, do ved viing ko fin krah, tol fod zeymah win kein meyz fundein! Alduin, feyn do jun, kruziik vokun staadnau, voth aan bahlok wah diivon fin lein!"

As Lucy kept tearing the corpse into shreds, giving each mouthful of flesh to the dragon hatchling, Natsu noticed that the corpse had long, scarlet hair. Pieces of broken armour lay on the bottom of the nest. Lucy's light reflected from the shattered greatsword that once had been Skyforge Steel, now nothing more than brittle glass. Nothing was left of the warrior's face, but Natsu still knew who it was. He shook his head, trying to wake up from this nightmare, but he couldn't.

This just couldn't be real, this couldn't be really happening, Lucy would never…

"Nuz aan sul, fent alok, fod fin vul dovah nok, fen kos nahlot mahfaeraak ahrk ruz! Paaz Keizaal fen kos stin nol bein Alduin jot, Dovahkiin kos fin saviik do muz!"

When her song came to an end, Lucy lifted her head. Perfect silence fell to the underground chasm, as if she had noticed his presence, but couldn't find him yet. Natsu held his breath, trying to force himself to wake up with every shred of willpower he had, but he kept failing. Then, Lucy's eyes met with his. All humanity was stripped from her icy blue gaze, leaving behind only a serpent's wrath.

And when she charged toward him with the speed of a whirlwind, he failed to find the strength to dodge. Her fingers cut through his chest like blades, then there was the sharpest pain, then nothingness. Everything went black, still, and very quiet.

After an interval of darkness, Natsu awakened. He was sitting on the pitch-black rock, somewhere deep underground. Cold moisture hung low in the air. It condensed into drops on his skin and dripped down, falling from his fingertips into nothingness, and never made a sound. He gasped in a ragged breath, the pain of a past nightmare still strangling his chest. Trembling, he gazed down at his hands. Fear froze him as he heard an echo in the air, a familiar voice reverberating from the steep obsidian walls.

Someone sang in the distance.


"Wake up, Natsu. Come on, son, wake up now."

After many long days and nights, someone called his name, and the infinite loop of nightmares finally broke. The song was still echoing in the back of his mind as someone grabbed him from the shoulders, lifted him up, and called his name again.

"Are you still there, Natsu?"

Slowly, his eyes opened, but he couldn't see anything. The same darkness that had been there for days lingered in his vision with a soft ethereal gleam – as if he had stared into the sun, and been burned by its light. His throat felt dry, his head light, but body heavy. He was pulled to sit, and someone supported his frame to keep him from falling back into the black sea of dark dreams.

"Since you're probably wondering what happened and where you are, I'll tell you straight ahead. Take it easy, just listen, and please, don't freak out," the voice said. He sounded a lot like Gildarts, but as if he was somewhere behind many stone walls, shouting from the bottom of his lungs. Natsu hoped it would be him, but he wasn't sure. "You're in the dungeons of Mistveil Keep. Under arrest, actually. The guards dragged you here after you succumbed to Odahviing's Thu'um three days ago."

He turned his head towards the voice. His neck creaked along with the motion. "W-why?" he managed to whisper.

A bottle was placed on his lips. Without asking what it was, he drank. The bitter, sour liquid spilt down his chin as he failed to swallow. He coughed and tried again, with better results. How he wished it would've been wine instead of a potion. When he had downed the bottle, the man spoke again.

"For arson," he said. "The firestorm you cast. Some guards saw it. Some even remembered you from Shor's Stone. Some even think you caused the explosion in Ratway. And it… It ain't looking good for you."

"Huh?"

The man sighed. "Well, your chances are execution or life in prison, and you know how they hate to keep the dungeon crowded. But don't worry. That's why we're here. We'll get you outta here."

We? Natsu had heard only one voice, and couldn't see any others. He couldn't sense threads of magical presences nearby – in fact, he couldn't sense magic at all. As if the fire had gone out in his veins, leaving behind nothing but cinders where there had been a searing pyre. If that wouldn't rekindle, he knew he was as good as dead. No need for execution.

Yet still, the realisation came with a delay. The word echoed in his head with a familiar ring. He remembered how he had felt when he heard it for the first time, in Shor's Stone, not that long time ago. Had it been three or four months? He had felt so numb then. 'Yeah, I guess that was it,' he had thought when they bound his hands and dragged him to the cart. He hadn't struggled much. Somehow, he had seen it coming, and life decided to arrive at the dead-end sooner than he assumed.

Some ghosts would never stop haunting him.

A knife cut the ropes around his wrists. He remembered that feeling as well. In Helgen, Haming had passed by and opened his bounds. Whenever life came to an end, fate decided to give him one more chance. He wasn't very good at cherishing them, it seemed. The black mist cleared from his vision, and he saw Gildarts's face in front of him, gazing at him with a sad smile, offering his hand to him.

Natsu took it.

"You look worse than I anticipated, son," Gildarts mumbled as he pulled him to his feet. Natsu grabbed his arm as his legs were nearly swept under him. "How do you feel?"

Natsu shook his head, unable to answer the question. Dirt and dust covered his robes, soaked in old sweat and dried blood. He knew not where he had bled. Locating the pain was impossible when his whole body felt broken. As if he had been wounded in a battle and then left to die, to linger on the cold stone floor of a filthy dungeon – oh well, he had.

"Sick as a dog, right?"

He only nodded.

"No wonder. I'm not exactly sure what the shout was, but it seemed to drain all the remaining magicka out of you. I'm surprised we found you alive. The potion should help soon," Gildarts said. "I'll see to your wounds when we are out of the city, but hang in there until we make it out, okay?"

Natsu nodded again. He turned his eyes to the fluttering torch behind Gildarts. There was a ginger-haired man in guard's cuirass holding it, and someone tall as a tower beside him. Loke and Gajeel, he realised then. Perhaps due to Lucy's presence in his dreams – he could still faintly remember them, like a distant chant – he hoped she would be here, too. But she wasn't. He searched around again with his gaze, and his heart skipped a beat when he couldn't find her.

"Lucy," Natsu muttered and halted. "Where… Where's she?" He glanced at Gildarts, his voice fading. "Is she safe?"

Gildarts was quiet for a while, and that silence, gods, how it strangled him.

"Do you remember what happened?"

Natsu stared at the older mage. If there was emotion in his eyes, Gildarts hid it well, his face cold and still as a stone. In silence, Natsu tried to remember, but in his very last memory, he held Lucy in his arms. Then, there was a voice. A Thu'um. A shadow of wings flashing over him, but still, to the moment his mind had blacked out, Lucy had been there, safely secured in his hold.

"I… I'm sure she was there. With me. Where's she now?" Natsu asked.

Gildarts let out a low sigh.

"Odahviing took her to Forelhost."

As if being slammed to the face with an iron shovel, staggered, Natsu kept staring at Gildarts. Breath stuck in his throat like solid ice. That's a lie, he thought, turning his gaze to Gajeel and Loke. They remained silent, lowering their eyes to the floor.

"N-no," Natsu stuttered quietly. "Can't be. Don't… Don't lie to me like that, Gildarts. Please don't."

Gildarts pressed his mouth into a thin line as he met the younger mage's despairing gaze. "That's the truth, son. Odahviing shouted at you both, then took her to Forelhost," Gildarts said. Natsu shook his head, the ill feeling weighing him down with a giant's strength. "I'm… I'm so sorry. The Thu'um caused you to lose consciousness, so you must've forgotten that. But it's true. She was taken. And we are going to get her back."

The rest of his words seemed to fade as Natsu's world began to spin. She's at Forelhost with the Dragon Cult, that's the only thing he understood, and as the memory of sharp talons wrapping around Lucy's fragile frame crept back, he couldn't deny it anymore. She's at Forelhost, the thought repeated in his mind like an echo, and she's been there for three fucking days.

Then, Natsu bent forward and threw up with a force.

The potion he had just drank spilt up with bile and blood. Before he fully processed what he heard, the terror took over his body, twisting his guts and shrinking his heart. He stared at the dungeon's cold stone floor as liquid dripped down from his lips. Tremors shot through him like strikes of thunder – if he'd have the strength to scream, he would.

A ghostly hand landed on his shoulder. "Don't worry. We're gonna get her back, I promise ya."

Natsu shook his head again. He wanted to ask how, why, and when, but couldn't say anything. He just stared into nothingness. Everything he had feared, had come true. It was too late. Lucy was gone. His sweet, beautiful Lucy, she was gone. Gone, gone, gone, slipped right through his fingers, for even if they'd get her back, she'd still be gone, he knew this.

And he didn't know what to do with his life anymore.

Gildarts's patted him firmly. "Come on. Get up. Time to go. I'll fill you in with the details when we're on the way."

Natsu lifted his gaze to the old mage. Though Gildarts didn't say it, he sensed what he meant with those three firm pats. There was an echo from the past. When the frost troll had taken Lucy, he had also frozen like this. It will be too late if you just stand there like a dead tree, you goddamn idiot, the scarlet-haired warrior had shouted and slapped him to the face.

Gildarts helped him back to his feet and offered him another potion. "Keep it down this time."

Natsu nodded, his hands trembling as he brought the blue bottle to his lips. He swallowed the potion, and felt no better. As if molten lead had filled his limbs, he felt powerless, useless, not good for anything in this state. He wanted to cry, roll himself into a tight ball and scream, scream from the bottom of his lungs until his voice would die, but that would not bring her back.

But he should know by now that crying wouldn't help. Screaming wouldn't either. It hadn't stopped mom from dying. It hadn't brought Igneel's head back to his shoulders. This time, he had to fight. Fight for what he loved, and not give up. No, it won't be too late. He convinced himself, over and over again, that it would not be too late until he'd hold her lifeless body in his arms.

Only then he'd be allowed to cry.

Natsu wiped his eyes on his sleeve and sighed as he collected himself. "So," Natsu started quietly and gave the empty bottle to Gildarts. The old mage gave him a waterskin in return. Natsu drank eagerly to wash the potion's taste from his mouth. "What's the plan?" Then he glanced at Gajeel and Loke. "What are you guys doing here?"

"We're here to help," Gajeel answered. It was a relief to hear his voice – as if Natsu only now realised that the vampire was alive. Well… actually, not dead-dead. The last time he'd seen him, Gajeel had headed to the lake to evacuate the townsfolk. "The guards and other prisoners are tight asleep, but only for a moment. We've gotta make it out of the city as undetected as possible, So, take this. Keep your pretty hair hidden." The vampire gave him a long, hooded cloak of black wool. "The security of the gates is pretty tight, but I know a better way out. Come. Follow us."

Natsu dipped his head down, and dressed into the cloak, pulled the hood to cover his head. His hands shivered like dry leaves in the wind as nausea built up in his stomach, and he struggled to keep the potion down this time. With trembling legs, he followed the man out of the room, past the iron bars he'd been locked in. Thank the gods I was knocked out this whole time, he thought. I would've gone insane in those three long days.

Loke closed the gate and locked it, but then Gajeel walked toward the jail. A faint blue light appeared on his palm. He glanced at Natsu, then turned back, and cast a strange spell on the stone floor. Natsu had to rub his eyes. The light took the shape of him, curled up face down, tight asleep, but when he looked closer, he realised that the illusion didn't move at all, didn't breathe. It was dead.

"That should buy us a little more time," Gajeel chuckled and walked away.

"I didn't know you're a mage," Natsu wondered, following them down the long dark tunnel. The guards slept on their posts, backs leaning to the wall or sitting on the chairs. "No offence, of course."

Gajeel snorted quietly. "A century of vampirism taught me a trick or two. Mostly how to get out of problems caused by it." Red eyes glanced at him. "Looks like I've gotta teach you a few things, Halfling."

Natsu didn't answer the vampire's grin, and so they carried on in silence. Loke, holding the torch, guided them forward until they reached the stairs. Gildarts walked behind Natsu, making sure he wouldn't fall.

"What about you, Loke?" Natsu asked. The Nord had been quiet so far. "What's up with the guard's outfit and all?"

Loke didn't look at him. "I got a new job. One I'm not intending to keep," he said. "I'm here for Lucy. That's all." He turned his eyes away. "So, we'll pretend that I'm a guard guiding a group of refugees, who got lost in the castle, back to their quarters. That shouldn't cause too much unwanted attention. That's what most of the guards do these days anyway."

Somehow, Natsu had guessed the Nord wasn't there to help him. It didn't matter, though. Loke spoke with a voice of a man who had lost it all. Natsu didn't know what had happened to the Thieves Guild, if anyone had survived, if the organisation would continue to function, but after Haming's death, Loke didn't have any desire to keep thieving – or living at all. Saving Lucy was his last resort. One last purposeful thing, and if that would fail, he'd be dead.

Natsu could relate to him there.

They made it out of the dungeons in silence. The sleep spell on the guards would soon expire, but they wouldn't notice something had happened during their nap. However, the soldiers on the upper floors of the castle might be a problem. When they arrived on a long aisle, lit by fading torchlight, absent of any life. Gajeel cast a shadow in the shape of a guard posted at the prison's door, then they carried on.

Loke guided them forward in the labyrinth of aisles. As Natsu had now understood, the survivors of the dragon attack were allowed to take refuge in the castle. Natsu saw some of them as they passed by. A young mother with three sons slept in one corner, her children tucked into warm furs while she was wrapped into a thin burlap cloak. Nearby sat an old man, probably the woman's father, watching over his sleeping family. He glanced at the strange group that walked past them, but probably thought it was just a guard handling other survivors, and let them pass without further notice.

As they walked, Natsu felt his strength beginning to return. The haze in his mind dissolved, but the anguish in his guts wouldn't fade. And in that strangling anguish, a familiar rage began to simmer. The despair he had dwelled in just a moment ago seemed like a distant memory. Though there was comfort in the sense of power, it frightened him. Once that rage would boil, nothing would stop it from spilling.

In the annex hall between the main entrance and the sleeping quarters, a lone female guard met them. Natsu squeezed his hands into fists as the guard turned her eyes to them. He mumbled a silent curse and kept his head down, sensing the upcoming trouble.

"What's going on?" the guard asked as they reached her, with enough pressure to make them halt. "Everything alright?"

Loke gestured with his hand in a relaxed manner. "Yeah, everything's alright. These little fools got pretty adventurous in the castle, though. I'll lead them back to their quarters."

The woman glanced at Gildarts. She seemed young, inexperienced, her armour shining without a single scratch. "Drunks?"

Gildarts grunted. "I'd say we are men of culture."

The guard sighed. "I could take them from here. The sleeping quarters of the refugees are my duty tonight," the guard said, and took a long look at Loke. "You're also one of the new recruits, right? I remember seeing you there. Weren't you posted at the dungeon doors?"

"I said, these fools got a bit adventurous."

"Then you'd better hurry back. Those doors shouldn't be left unguarded for any moment."

Loke shook his head. "It's okay, I can take them. It's not going to take long."

Disbelief was clear as a day on the guard's face, suspicion glimmering in her eyes. Natsu knew the operation had already gone to the Void, and in his mind, there was only one solution to the problem.

Burn her.

Slowly, as if sensing the malevolent aura, the guard turned his eyes to Natsu. Her gaze lingered on his face, shrouded in shadows. "You…"

"Out of my way," Natsu growled at her. "Now."

"You… You're the one who –"

Gildarts stepped in front of him, waving his arms in a reassurance. "No, no, you've but mistaken. We are just a jolly group of refugees, trying to –"

Natsu kept his eyes locked on the guard and raised his voice. "I said get out of my way, or I'll burn you alive."

"Quiet now, boy," Gildarts murmured to Natsu, then turned back to the guard. "Don't mind him. This little guy gets some… pyromaniac preferences when drunk, but it all clears up when he gets some rest. Could we go now?"

Fear flickered on the woman's face. She gasped in a breath. "I… I heard that they arrested an arsonist, the one who blew up Ratway –"

"It wasn't his fault!" Gildarts shouted at the woman, also losing his wits. His voice echoed in the dark hallway before he realised he'd better keep it down, too. "Have you ever heard of the gas that flows underground? It was the gas that blew up Ratway, and it had nothing to do with him! The dragons bombarded the ground with their Thu'um! That caused it to leak up and explode! Not! Him!"

Everyone fell silent. The guard tried to stutter something, but failed. Gildarts stepped closer to her, a demeaning aura radiating from him.

"And don't even dare to start about the firestorm," Gildarts growled. "You've seen it? You saw the firestorm this man unleashed against the dragon?" The guard nodded faintly, shivering. "Then listen very closely. He did that to protect this city. He injured the dragon while the guard's arrows did nothing to it. The power that's great enough to hurt a dragon, will inevitably hurt those who don't get out of the power's way. And we really gotta go now."

The woman nodded, and didn't say anything as she stepped to the side. Natsu kept his mouth in a tight line, chewing his lower lip with his fangs. The string of tension in him had been about to snap, and without Gildarts, only a pile of ash would be left of that young woman. I'm sorry, Natsu thought, but couldn't speak from his shame.

"Good," Gildarts said. "You don't tell anyone about this, alright? Because I'm not sure if I can hold him back next time."

The guard lowered her head, gesturing toward the direction they had been going. "Alright, alright. Everything here appears to be in order. You can move along."

The group passed her by. When the guard was left behind, Gildarts whispered to Gajeel, "Erase her memory of this. Just to be sure." He turned to Natsu. "And we, son, we have to talk."


A green glimmer, invisible to everyone who couldn't comprehend magic, surrounded the two mages as they walked in the darkness. The spell muffled their discussion into inaudible whispers, when actually, the older mage was almost shouting while the younger didn't say anything.

"Natsu, you just… I get it, you're pissed, but don't you have any fucking sense left in your head? You can't just burn alive everyone who you disagree with! That shit almost blew up our whole mission before we've even begun!"

Natsu had stopped answering a while ago. They were almost out of the castle, as Loke led them toward the entrance in the kitchen quarters. The cooks had gone to sleep, and due to the shortage of available soldiers, the passage to the courtyard's garden was unguarded at night. Natsu was sure that once they'd be outside, Gildarts would finally shut up.

"… because that, son, that's the very reason why mages are distrusted in this country. That's the reason why you were arrested. The first thing people think when they see a wizard's robes is 'oh shit, this guy's gonna burn me alive.'" Gildarts dragged his fingers down his face and sighed. Natsu glared at him, furrowing his brow in annoyment. "Do you understand what I mean? You've gotta stop that. Not just for you, but for all the mages in this country."

Natsu looked away, nodding faintly. He understood his point, but somehow, he wished someone had taught him that before. Before, when he had been just a boy thrown into the cold harsh world, where he only survived by burning alive everything and everyone who threatened his existence. There had been a time when he'd only known peace when he'd stood among burning bodies, the last one alive, the only one whose story would continue to another day. If there had been another way, he had never seen it, for fire had been the only thing that enlightened his path.

"Besides," Gildarts started after a little silence. "Bottle up that anger for now. I'm sure you'll need it later." Then he gave a firm pat on his shoulder, and sighed again as Loke opened the door that led to the castle's kitchen, which surprisingly wasn't locked. "Though, I really gotta lecture you some more about the dangers of casting too powerful spells without protecting your body. Like last time, you absolutely ignored the usage of warding yourself while –"

"Quiet," Loke hushed then. "There's someone."

The door behind them closed as they arrived in the room, filled with the scents of garlic bread and overboiled vegetable stew. A candle was lit on the stone oven's side. A shadowy figure stood halted near it, dressed in a dark blue cloak. Slowly, the shape turned, revealing the face of a young woman. In her arms, she held a fair-haired infant girl, whose green eyes brightened up as met with Natsu's.

Gajeel strode across the room. "Juvia, what are you doing here?" he asked, worry in his tone. He lowered his gaze to the birchbark-woven basket in Juvia's hand, filled with wheat buns and carrots. Gajeel smirked. "Stealing some food for the kids?"

Averting the vampire's eyes, Juvia nodded. "The portions given by the Jarl are so little that the children can't sleep. Juvia thought that some bread would help, so she asked Samuel to look after the younger ones while –"

"Hey, it's alright. Just be sure you don't get caught," Gajeel answered, and closed the small woman into a brief hug, stroking her back before they parted. Lyra caught a strand of Gajeel's long, black hair into her tiny fist, giggling as she pulled. "Ouch, kid, that hurts!"

With a persistent smirk on his lips, Gajeel reached for the round loaves of rye bread drying in the skewer, too high for Juvia to reach. He placed them into the basket before walking to the door. Juvia and Lyra waved at him. "Be sure to get back safely, Gajeel. Good luck."

"I always will," Gajeel said, turning toward the rest of his group. "You guys who need to eat, pick up some provisions. I'm sure the Jarl won't mind much."

Gildarts and Loke headed to load their bags with some bread, cheese, and apples, but Natsu could barely look at the food. He knew he had to eat at some point, but he wasn't sure if he could keep it down. As he stood there between the cooking tables, Juvia walked to her, the baby in her arms smiling widely.

"Juvia is glad to see you're alright," she whispered, then took a better look at him, visibly changing her mind. "… Or alive, at least. Here. Take this."

Juvia placed the basket on the table, picked up a thyme-spiced wheat bun, and gave it to him. Hesitantly, Natsu took it.

"Thank you," he muttered. "I'm… I'm glad to see you're okay as well."

A sad smile flashed on Juvia's lips, then it was gone. "May the grace of Kynareth be with you, friend," she said, and suddenly closed him into an embrace, wrapping her other hand around his back while the other held Lyra on her hip. Natsu flinched and froze, but as the child leant her head against his arm, he eased slightly, the anger in him wilting to sadness.

As he felt tears welling up in his eyes, Natsu pulled away. "Take good care of her, okay?" he asked, glancing at the girl. Lyra was still smiling at him, and a part of him hoped she would stop. She couldn't see the darkness in him, not yet, because for her, he was just a man who'd saved her from a burning orphanage, not a criminal who had burned countless men alive. She could only see where the light reflected on him, the silver line of a storm cloud. It made him glad, but saddened him at the same time.

"Juvia will," she answered and picked up the basket, turning away with a mysterious smirk. "A day will come when you'll meet again. Until then, stay alive."

Not fully understanding what she meant, Natsu nodded, and watched them leave the kitchen. He held the wheat bun in his still-shivering hands, the ill feeling in his guts beginning to subside. Maybe soon he'd be able to eat.

When Gildarts and Loke had gathered enough food to last them for this mission, Gildarts blew out the candle, and ordered them to the door. They stepped in the cold night air, where the skies were covered in heavy clouds, where snow fell gently to the ground to blanket the ashes. No starts guided the path ahead, eerie silence enveloping the ruins in a shroud of mystery, that didn't break until they reached the waste-water sewer on the edge of the city.

"By the way, I forgot to mention one thing," Gildarts started, crouching to fit the tunnel that led below the stone wall, through the cross-iron gate that Loke had just opened. Natsu halted in his tracks, cursing, somehow sensing that he wouldn't like it. "We'll travel to Forelhost by a carriage. You okay with that?"

Natsu knew he would not be able to eat tonight, after all.


Meanwhile that same night, relatively near, a red-scaled dragon descended on the courtyard of an ancient monastery. Surrounded by tall, strong walls, the beast disappeared into the darkness as he landed on top of a word wall.

There, Odahviing waited. Dried blood stained the ground below him, rusted stains draining down the wall, seeping into words that were carved into the stone many ages ago. Some of it had been his, as he had flown here wounded and bleeding, but some had been the Dragonborn's, as this was where he had left the mortal girl three dawns ago. Rahgot had been there waiting, and now, Odahviing waited for him to come.

Soon, old stone doors opened. The High Priest in his green mask arrived with three of his trusted generals. Faint night wind swayed the worn, tattered robes, withered in the passing of millennia. Odahviing still remembered how Rahgot had looked like in the days of glory. The strongest man ever lived, now turned into a living ghost, and only that mask still gave him the strength to lift the two warhammers strapped to his back in the shape of a cross.

"Sahrot Odahviing, hi lost daal. Lost hin ahraan haas?" the priest asked as he walked upon the word wall, lifting his gaze up to the dragon. His voice was rough and dry like a saw on wood.

"Sonaak Rahgot, geh, Zu'u fen bo nu," Odahviing answered. His wounds had finally recovered fully, and he knew he'd be able to make the long journey ahead of him. "Wah Atmora, kolos Alduin lost bo ahst tovit do Durnehviir, Vulthyruol, Voslaarum ahrk Naaslaarum. Rok drey ni siiv ek goth nau Tazookan. Zu'u fun rok do horvutah do Dovahkiin."

Rahgot bowed. "Rus do Agnoslok, Numinex, ahrk tahrodiis Paathurnax?"

Odahviing thought for a moment. It had been a while since he'd heard their names, even longer since he'd met them. "Agnoslok dilon ahst fin strunmah. Ni yol ko ok miin. Zu'u fun do siiv Deinmaar wah Alduin. Tahrodiis Paathurnaz lost zorox ok miiraad. Numinex… ok tiid fen meyz." The dragon paused, sensing that the priest had more questions. "Deinmaar do Agnoslok yol wen meyz het. Dreh ni krii rok erei Alduin daal. Daar los hin nunon uth."

Rahgot nodded in agreement. "Zok brit uth. Su'um arkh morah."

"Tiid bo viing," Odahviing answered, then unfolded his wings against the darkness.


A/N: Hi guys! Rescue!Lucy!Arc! has finally began!

In the nightmare scene, I used the story's namesake song, "Song of the Dragonborn" aka Skyrim's theme song. The song has appeared many times in the story, but now we learned the lyrics. There are many versions of that in the internet, but when I found this, watch?v=dziRHDulG3k, I knew I'd find the perfect one. Here's the English translation:

"Dragonborn, Dragonborn, by his honor is sworn,
To keep evil forever at bay!
And the fiercest foes rout when they hear triumph's shout,
Dragonborn, for your blessing we pray!

Hearken now, sons of snow, to an age, long ago,
And the tale, boldly told, of the one!
Who was kin to both wyrm, and the races of man,
With a power to rival the sun!

And the voice, he did wield, on that glorious field,
When great Tamriel shuddered with war!
Mighty Thu'um, like a blade, cut through enemies all,
As the Dragonborn issued his roar!

Dragonborn, Dragonborn, by his honor is sworn,
To keep evil forever at bay!
And the fiercest foes rout when they hear triumph's shout,
Dragonborn, for your blessing we pray!

And the Scrolls have foretold, of black wings in the cold,
That when brothers wage war come unfurled!
Alduin, Bane of Kings, ancient shadow unbound,
With a hunger to swallow the world!

But a day, shall arise, when the dark dragon's lies,
Will be silenced forever and then!
Fair Skyrim will be free from foul Alduins maw,
Dragonborn be the savior of men!"

Then there's (a rough) translation to the discussion between Odahviing and Rahgot in the ending. That's pretty important.

Rahgot: "Great Odahviing, you have returned. Have your wounds healed?"
Odahviing: "Priest Rahgot, yes, I can fly now. I'm departing to Atmora, where Alduin has flown in the search of Durnehvir, Vulthuryol, Naslaarum and Voslaarum. He hasn't found their tombs on Tamriel. I'll inform him about the successful capture of the Dragonborn.
Rahgot: What about Agnoslok, Numinex, and treacherous Paathurnax?"
Odahviing: "Agnoslok still lies lifeless in his tomb near High Rock. (There wasn't really a translation for High Rock, but that's important one) There's no fire in his eyes. I'll also inform Alduin about the Keeper. Treacherous Paathurnax has made his choice. And for Numinex… his time will surely come, but it is not yet. The Keeper of Agnoslok's fire will come here. Do not kill him until Alduin returns. That is your only order."
Rahgot: "Most beautiful order. (I'll be glad to do that) Breath and focus (expresses good will or farewell)"
Odahviing: "Time fly wing (Expression for I must leave)"

Other than these translations, I don't have much to note about this chapter, I think everything was said within the text. I'd still like to thank all my wonderful readers for the amazing support and feedback. Thank you guys! 3

Next up: Bad Company