The Scars That Make You Whole

By CrimsonStarbird

Firesign, Final Part

-Once Given Life-

The Alvarez army took Magnolia.

There was little resistance. Those who had survived the air fleet's blitzing of the city and escaped the subsequent obliteration of the guildhall had neither the strength nor the will to put up much of a fight.

Invel led the way himself. It shouldn't have been him – he wasn't a front-line fighter – but in their emperor's absence, it was important to have a visible leader in Alvarez's moment of triumph.

Besides, the battle was already won. His Majesty's strategies had seen to that. Finishing the job required someone merciless and methodical; someone with the skill to locate any last enemies by their body heat and the power to freeze them where they stood.

Victory had never been in doubt.

The war had been short, the cost low, the final conquest easy.

There were powerful mages in Fairy Tail, but they were scattered and isolated, and they weren't used to these games of strategy and morale. They knew how to win a fight, but not how to win a war. In the north, where the Alvarez advance had slowed to a crawl, and in the south, where updates from the prolonged stand-off were still coming in, the warriors of Fairy Tail fought on, not knowing that nothing they did now could change their country's fate.

Officially, the war wouldn't end until Crocus had been captured; unofficially, it would take longer still for any sort of occupation to settle in. But Magnolia had fallen, and that meant, soon enough, so too would Fiore.

And fallen was a good word for it, if only because there was so little left standing in the city. Rubble criss-crossed the ground like half-excavated ruins. In some places, the earth had been rent open; in others, the collapse of buildings had formed miniature mountain ranges out of the wreckage, never rising higher than a man's head. Fires still burned in hidden crevices, ghostlights on the path to the beyond.

And in the centre was Fairy Tail's guildhall.

Or what was left of it.

Invel stood before it: the symbol of their opposition, razed to the ground. Wall had done a thorough job. Once His Majesty had given the order, there had never been any doubt that the future he saw would come to be – the future where the whole world lay at his feet, united as one great nation.

Somewhere beneath the ruins of the guildhall lay the hidden basement containing Fairy Heart. Not only was it the catalyst that had accelerated Alvarez's inevitable conquest of Fiore, but it was also the secret weapon His Majesty needed to defeat Acnologia, to free the world from its dark future. The most prudent action would be to break into the basement and secure it, but Invel doubted he would be able to pierce the enchantments protecting it without His Majesty's help. At the very least, it would take longer than he could spare right now.

No, his job was to secure the city, then take the rest of his men and advance upon Crocus. Magnolia was theirs, now. Once His Majesty returned, he could claim Fairy Heart at his leisure.

Because he would return. Just as soon as he came to his senses.

He would take his place once more at the head of his army, Invel by his side, and Ishgar would become part of the empire and Acnologia would be crushed and everything would be right again.

This Invel knew for certain.

So he reminded himself, every time an image of His Majesty struggling alone against Acnologia flashed through his mind.

Foolishness. His Majesty did not struggle. He was powerful and triumphant – except for when he wasn't, a treacherous voice whispered; except for a moment of broken humanity in front of Fairy Heart and a steadfast admission of insecurity on the eve of war.

But when he wasn't, Invel was there to take on that role for him. To protect the empire in his absences, both physical and mental.

That was what had been asked of him. That was what he would do.

And that was far more important than staring at a ruined guildhall and imagining impossible scenarios. He needed to meet up with the commanders and decide which units would stay in Magnolia and which would march on to the capital. He needed to-

An approaching presence brushed the edge of his senses, and he found himself groaning inwardly.

Resignation saturated August's magical presence. It seemed he was wading through every one of his years to be here. Invel thought about how much magic and energy it must have taken for August to have fought his way to Magnolia alone, and he knew that it was not the reason why the old mage leaned so heavily on his staff.

"You made it, then," Invel said, by way of a greeting.

August said nothing.

More unnerved than he wanted to let on by that silence, Invel turned away and found himself looking at the ruined guildhall again. He didn't know why the sight of it annoyed him so much.

"Magnolia is ours," he said tersely. "If we maintain this momentum, we will be in Crocus by dawn. You are to lead the strike on the capital city-"

"Invel." That quiet word, and nothing more.

"He put me in charge, August!" He shouldn't be shouting, not out in the open like this, but at the same time, he didn't know how he was supposed to do anything else. "He knew you weren't strong enough to do what needed to be done, just like he wasn't! You promised you would stand by me, for the empire's sake!"

"I know," August accepted. "I will keep my word to you."

Still he stood there, still he seemed to wait, still his presence teemed with a hundred emotions, and Invel didn't want to deal with a single one of them right now. He demanded, "Then why aren't you going to Crocus?"

"I will go there, if you wish me to," came the soft response. "But His Majesty ordered me to obey you as I would him."

Invel's eyes flashed the white-blue of the frozen pond moments before it cracked. "And yet you have never disobeyed a direct order from him!"

"I know," August murmured. "For ninety years, I have been complicit in his self-destruction. You are the one who challenged him, Invel, and encouraged me to do the same. You are the one who reached him when he needed it."

"For Alvarez." Invel gave a bitter laugh. "Confronting him was the right thing for the empire, so I did it. Don't make out like it was some brave, heroic gesture. It was easy. It was clear-cut. It was right."

He swept his arm around the destroyed city, the path of ruin that led to Crocus and victory. "And now look. I am doing what he ordered me to do. I am doing what he wanted. This is my duty – to my emperor, to my empire, and to all our people out there waiting for someone to lead them into tomorrow! This is unequivocally, categorically, the best thing for Alvarez! So why doesn't it feel right?"

He glanced up, met those eyes which saw straight through him, and stepped back, shaking his head wildly. "But what does it matter? I have my orders, I have the law enforcing them, I have my duties and my responsibilities behind it all, and they all point down a single path! I don't have a choice; I must do this, whether it feels right or not!"

"You always have a choice. You are making it here and now."

"Wars aren't personal." Invel almost spat the words; his own argument tasted bitter in his mouth. "How I feel doesn't matter."

"For as long as wars are fought by humans, they will always be personal," August told him gently. "This war is about nothing but His Majesty's grief. It only concerns Alvarez at all because he chose us as the tool with which to fight it." He sighed as Invel shook his head again. "Invel, how you feel matters more than anything. The moment our leader pushes away his humanity is the moment Alvarez is lost."

"But that's what he has always done! That's what has made us strong throughout the centuries!"

"For a long time, perhaps he did," August said, and nothing more.

He didn't need to say anything more.

Because although His Majesty had rejected Invel's notion of what an emperor should be from the very moment they had met, the whimsical, casual, brilliant alternative he had presented was still, well, an emperor. He still commanded any room he entered. He was still above the rules; he was still undeniably in control.

And then, eleven years after Invel had first sworn fealty to his emperor, he had met him for the first time.

Truly met him.

It had been here, in the basement below these very ruins, in front of the crystal tomb of Fairy Tail's First Master. His Majesty had broken down, and those walls – walls that had not been where Invel had expected to find them, but had existed nonetheless – had broken with him.

How vulnerable he'd seemed. How human. How he'd been unable to stop the tears as Invel had knelt before him, pledging his fealty not to the title of emperor, but to the human being hiding behind it, visible for the very first time. Invel had been so fiercely proud to serve that weak and broken man.

That man who had dared to fall in love, and dared to act on it.

That man who had chosen to reach out to Invel instead of executing him for his unauthorized trip to Fiore, as law and logic had dictated; that man who had decided Invel mattered more than his own imperial façade.

Even he, cursed and imperfect as he was, had chosen that path – and Invel, who had always respected him, and believed in him, and served him for the greater glory of Alvarez, had come to love him too.

It had not been an order from his emperor that had convinced him to join the fight against Acnologia. Invel had already rejected that. It had been an earnest request from that man he cared for; a man who wanted him there not for his power or his political ability, but because the world was about to change for all of them, and he wanted Invel with him when that happened.

If Invel had never met that man, would he now be marching on Crocus, without a thought for the emperor he was leaving behind?

August said, "His Majesty pushed everyone away because he saw it as the only way to deal with his curse. You have no such limitations."

"He wanted me to do this!" Invel burst out. "I promised I would be strong for him!"

"You told him his humanity was a weakness you would help him overcome," came the patient response. "But you're wrong, Invel. Humanity is a strength."

"If you're so sure you know what's right," Invel spat, "then why don't you go and do it?"

"Because I gave you my word, and as your friend, I will honour that," August replied steadily. "Order me to go to Crocus, and I will do so."

And there they stood – the man who had only ever served Alvarez for His Majesty's sake, and yet was waiting for Invel's orders, and the man who had always sworn to protect Alvarez even against its own emperor, and yet was hesitating to give those orders – and in their hands rested the fate of a war which shouldn't have been personal, but which had been from the start until the end.

Somewhere nearby, the battle to end all battles was raging between two dragons, and unsurprisingly to any who had met her, Brandish paid it no heed at all.

The fact that this was a crushed and blackened forest rather than a pretty summer grove had not stopped her from lounging like one would at a picnic, back to an ash-covered tree trunk, eyes half-closed. One hand pressed against the wound in her side. The other ran gently through the golden hair of the warrior who had caused it. Holding grudges was far more trouble than it was worth. Brandish didn't understand why other people insisted on doing it.

As Dimaria began to stir, Brandish gazed down at her questioningly. "Mari?"

"No…" Dimaria murmured. Then, rising to a frantic shriek: "No! NO!"

"Shh, it's okay."

It wasn't okay, and Dimaria howled, "WHY AM I ALIVE?"

"Beats me." Brandish continued to run her fingers soothingly through the other's hair, unfazed. "What was that magic you used? Did you show us the future? Or turn back time? Even for you, it was impressive. Where did you learn magic like that?"

"It- it doesn't matter where I learnt it," Dimaria snapped, too quickly. "But she said it would take all my remaining time, it was supposed to end all this, so why am I…? Oh."

A choke tore from her throat as she tried to laugh hysterically and sob at the same time. Brandish, who knew better than to try and keep up with her moods, patted her on the head and said nothing.

"It's because I was bonded with the God of Time. It took the time left on our contract instead. Chronos is gone."

"But you're still here," Brandish pointed out reassuringly.

"Without the power of a God of Time!"

"But alive."

"I don't want to be! I helped her!" It wasn't unusual to hear such vehement disgust in Dimaria's voice, but never, Brandish thought, had she known her friend to turn it upon herself. "That girl, Lucy! She's the enemy; I hate her! All I wanted was to get back at Acnologia one last time, and now I have to live with the shame of having helped her! I HATE HER!"

"You seem to hate a lot of people, Mari," Brandish reflected. "I honestly don't know how you find the time."

"We're at war. Why do you find that so difficult to understand?"

The warrior-mage tried to get up, but her arms wouldn't support her. Brandish let her struggle for a moment, and then pulled her closer, bringing the rebellion to an abrupt end. "I don't think we'll be at war for much longer," she pondered. "No one really wants this. If His Majesty doesn't end it, August will, and if August doesn't end it, Invel will."

Dimaria snorted in disbelief. "Invel? Have you met him? He'll destroy this stupid guild singlehandedly if he thinks it'll help Alvarez!"

"Nah. It'll be okay, Mari. It'll work out."

"You always say that," she hissed furiously. "You say that, and then this happens, and- and- you just keep acting like you always do. Like none of it matters."

Brandish just shrugged.

Even Dimaria found it too hard to argue with someone who wouldn't argue back. Her fists tightened in Brandish's cloak, and then loosened again, and all her hate seemed to have fled with it. "I was supposed to die," she whispered. "I… I was going to see Ajeel…"

"That's not like you, Mari."

Dimaria's eyes narrowed again immediately. "What do you mean?"

"Well, after spending the last few years playing hard to get, it's odd that you'd suddenly want to run into his arms like that. It's not really your style, Mari. Make him wait."

"…Yeah," Dimaria choked.

Brandish hugged her tightly while she cried, knowing that she would be murdered in her sleep if she ever brought this up again, but deciding it was worth it.

And the far-distant war didn't matter, and the clash of nearby dragons didn't matter, and the hate they were expected to show towards the mages who had once been their allies didn't matter, because Brandish was certain enough for both of them that things were going to turn out okay, and that would do.

"You know, Mari," she observed, "being your friend is awfully hard work."

Dimaria sniffed. "Then why do you bother?"

"Because I like you."

Half a laugh, half a sob, and entirely full of indignation, Dimaria demanded, "What, that's all?"

"Yup."

"I don't understand you at all, Randi."

Brandish shrugged again; most people didn't. "Shall we go home?"

"What? Now?" With the battles still raging and the war unresolved and the fate of the world hanging in the balance; with everything she had said to His Majesty, and everything she had done to Lucy, and Brandish still bleeding from a wound she herself had dealt her…

"Yes," Brandish said simply.

Dimaria closed her eyes. "Okay."

Everything was going wrong at once, and there was nothing Sting could do about it.

He'd tried to save Natsu. No, he hadn't wanted Irene to die, but if it was a choice between her and Natsu, their best chance at beating Acnologia, their friend… then he'd have physically dragged Wendy away from her if he'd had to.

But he'd not been given the choice. Wendy had undone the enchantment binding him to the rabbit's body. And he'd never wanted to be human again as little as he had in that moment, when he'd been in his own body once more, but at the other side of the forest to where everything was happening.

Then a red light covered the ground, and he wasn't even there any more.

He didn't know where he was. It looked like he was back where they'd been fighting Acnologia, if some embarrassed deity had tried to hide the disintegrated trees by jamming a crag on top of them. Yet Acnologia was nowhere in sight – and neither was Wendy or Rogue or-

"Why am I not surprised?" a voice remarked dryly. "Universe One bringing you back here to watch me die is just about how well my luck has been going for the past twenty-seven years."

Sting wheeled around, recognizing Irene's voice despite the thinness of it. She was right where she had been when he'd ceased to be a rabbit, dying on the forest floor, the only thing that hadn't changed when the world had been bathed in scarlet light.

"What's going on?" he demanded. "Where's Wendy-?"

"I sent her to Natsu. Oh, don't look so surprised," she added, amused. "Defeating Acnologia is far more important than what happens to me. It's not as though signing up with the Alvarez army took away my common sense, any more than being born to one country rather than another can make you evil."

"I wasn't-" Sting began hotly, but she cut him off.

"I could hear everything you were saying when I was trapped in that crystal, you know," she told him, and even though she couldn't turn her head to look at him, he could see her smirking as his face reddened.

"Well- you- how was I supposed to trust someone who sided with Zeref?"

"Did it occur to you-" Her words gave way to a bloody cough that still somehow managed to sound haughty. "-that maybe I had a good reason for doing so?"

Suspiciously, Sting asked, "And what would that be?"

"That's none of your business."

Sting choked on his own disbelief. "If you're not even going to apologize, why the hell did you bring me back here?"

"Do you think I did this on purpose?" she retorted. "It was an unexpected side-effect of the repositioning magic I used to put Wendy where she needed to be. All I wanted was to be left to die in peace."

At those words, the indignation that had been swelling up inside him was suddenly doused. It could have been Natsu dying. It could have been him. There was a part of him that wanted to turn and run, to pretend that this conversation had never happened, to refuse to acknowledge the guilt… but he was stronger than that, or maybe just more naïve, and every slow step took him closer to where the Alvarez mage – his enemy – lay dying.

"Wendy could have saved you," he blurted out. "You could have teleported her to Natsu afterwards. She could have saved both of you; there would have been time!"

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. It would have been an unnecessary risk."

"Not unnecessary."

A smirk tugged at her lips once more; being superior, it seemed, was worth the pain as her scorched skin drew tight. "It's easy for you to say that now there are no consequences, isn't it? Easy to be nice to your enemy when no one is listening."

"Fine!" he snarled. "I'll just go, then, shall I?"

Silence in the forest, and the almost-dead rattle of her breath.

"No," she murmured. "Don't go. Please."

Feeling not quite as victorious as he'd thought he would at her admission, Sting sat down beside her.

He was trying not to look. At the burns, the blood, worse. At the rags where she'd briefly worn the armour of a warrior; at the empty hand that had held her staff.

He had always thought of her as the woman who had been a fox when he was a rabbit, insistent on being the predator to their prey, but she was… just another human being. One who had been caught up in the same mess as them, yet hadn't let the artificial lines of a far-distant war affect her actions. One who had lived for Zeref, yet died for them.

"Is there anything I can do?" Sting asked.

"No," Irene said.

He held her hand anyway, and she didn't complain.

"I'm sorry that it's me," he blurted out. "And not… you know, someone who means something to you."

Her eyes were closed for so long that Sting thought she had gone. Then she stirred, one final confession left to whisper: "There isn't anyone who means something to me."

"I don't believe that," he said, perhaps because it was the right thing to say, or perhaps just because she brought out the stubbornness in him, as though it was a competition.

She exhaled, slowly, painfully. "The reason why I work for Zeref," she admitted, unbidden, "is because of a deal we made a long time ago. He was to free me from the dragon form in which I was trapped, and in return, I would free him from his immortal body. He saved me, but… I was unable to uphold my end of the deal. My spell failed to overcome his curse."

"So this is your punishment? Eternal servitude?"

A weak chuckle. "No. Even then, he would have released me from my debt – would have let me walk away with my newborn child, to live out the future we had each wanted for the other even though it remained denied to him. But I was too proud to accept his mercy, his pity. I abandoned my daughter in order to serve at his side, all in the foolish hope that I would one day be able to pay back a debt too great for words. Or perhaps I simply hoped that, by rejecting the future we had fought for, even as it had rejected him, I could absolve myself of the hatred or envy he must have felt towards me – all the while overlooking the fact that he was not the one letting those things dictate his actions…"

She shook her head. There was nothing mocking about it, now. "He tried to free me – to free us both. I was the one who bound us in resentment and guilt until the end of time. That is why I have no friends, only colleagues. That is why I have no family. I abandoned my daughter on the day she was born. I assumed she was dead, and the fact that she might be alive doesn't make me feel happy. It doesn't make me feel anything. Blood is meaningless in the absence of love."

And then, to his astonishment, Sting felt her hand squeeze his. She murmured, "So, the fact that anyone is willing to stay with me at the end matters a great deal."

"Not just me," he protested gruffly, because he wasn't crying over a stranger, least of all one he'd never liked, who he'd just happened to find himself with as her life flickered out. "Wendy and the others would be here if they could."

"Then maybe I've finally done something right," she smiled. "In truth, my death is long overdue. I have lived a great many years and accomplished very little. But, you know… when I stood between Acnologia and you kids, I actually felt as though my life had meaning."

"It does," he insisted. "We won't forget."

"Thank you." Her eyes fell closed, listening to the sound of another world over her own fading breath. "I do not regret that I am to die, only that I must do so having not repaid my debt." Quieter, and quieter still. "But I wonder… if I might have enough magic to leave behind one final change…"

It didn't matter how many times Lucy saw Zeref in the centre of that dreadful ritual. Anyone who could look upon it without feeling sick to their stomach simply couldn't be human. It was a rejection of everything that was good and right about life, an abhorrent cruelty that belonged in their universe no more than the rift in space did.

Zeref wasn't moving. He lay face-down on the ground, sword still protruding from his back like a signpost to hell. The Book of END lay beneath limp fingertips, as if he'd run out of strength halfway through a sentence.

His magic was infinite, and his life unending, but that didn't make him any more than human.

No matter how hard he tried.

Running to his side, Lucy tried to block out the sound of a distant dragon's fury. The elation of Acnologia's death had shifted almost at once into fear. Natsu had turned on her so quickly that she hadn't even had a chance to cancel the Celestial Spirit King's Star Dress – and that was what saved her. Time dilated just enough for her to come to her senses and jump aside; one last boon bestowed by the Spirit King before he was forced to return to the world between worlds.

And just like that, she'd been alone, with a mindless dragon who wouldn't – couldn't – listen to reason.

Even as she backed away from the beast her best friend had become, one terrible thought sank its teeth into her heart. If Natsu's human self had finally been swallowed by his savage draconic magic… what did that mean for the one who had been holding it back all this time?

A thundercrack had snapped her back to reality. Of all people, Laxus was suddenly there, so bold and unexpected that she didn't question it for a moment, for her mind would never have hallucinated something so unbelievable. Not at all concerned by the fact that Natsu was now a literal dragon, Laxus began to lure him away from Lucy. Soon enough, Gajeel appeared on iron wings, and Rogue came from the fast-fading shadows, and not a single word needed to be said between them. The Dragon Slayers would hold Natsu off, while she tried to save him.

She couldn't help in their battle, and they couldn't help in hers, so she ran.

And now that she was here, the reason for Natsu's relapse into the madness of the dragons was evident.

Zeref was still breathing – of course he was, he was immortal – but that was all.

"Please," she begged. "Zeref, talk to me, I need you."

His eyelids fluttered open. She almost wished they hadn't. It wasn't just because they were shot through with enough pain that the mere sight of it sent her mind lurching towards madness – it was the hopelessness deep within them.

Even in Malva, he'd still had hope, because he'd believed in her to save him.

But this was all on him. She could hear the voices in his head as clearly as if he were screaming along with them: couldn't stop the war, couldn't keep hold of the one he loved, couldn't save his brother…

"Please," she whispered.

But if he could, he would already be doing it. The finger resting on the Book of END twitched, and his entire body shuddered with the effort. Breath rattled erratically between his lips and the wound where the sword pierced him.

"Then I'll do it for you," she asserted.

She pulled the fallen book towards her. It had none of the comforting warmth that had so enchanted her the first time she had held it, back when she had understood so little. It wasn't her Natsu any more. It wasn't friendship, warmth, home. It writhed in her grip with the same spitting fire that had turned on her after Acnologia had fallen.

And yet, at the same time, the otherness of it seemed to fall away. She knew – without knowing how she knew it – that the book would accept her commands like it accepted Zeref's; that the darkness that should have infected anyone who tried to interfere with it would not touch her; that its owner trusted her entirely.

She fumbled for her pen, and then hesitated.

Zeref's agonizing breaths ate away the seconds, and the half-filled page beckoned her, but she couldn't. She wrote novels. Fiction, fantasy, empathy, emotion. Magic is all of those things, she remembered Zeref telling her, as if it had been yesterday, but it is so in ways that conform reliably to patterns; to complex and mathematical underlying laws.

Staring at a page covered in runes and equations, she felt the reality of that for the very first time.

It didn't matter if she believed that magic was love, was emotion, was life and nothing more. That wasn't the only way that Zeref thought of it, and this book, this magic, was a manifestation of his way of seeing the world.

"I need you to help me," she said. She didn't know how she was managing to come across so calm, except perhaps that she knew it was what he needed more than anything, and so she would try it. "Zeref. You're the only one who understands this magic. You have to tell me what to write."

A silent struggle with the limitations of his own flesh, and then a croak: "Izkalim. Nekka."

Hopelessness welled up inside her. "I don't know what that means."

"It's…" The words slipped away from his failing lips.

She touched the pen to the paper, and then lifted it again. "Zeref…"

"Lucy."

It wasn't Zeref's voice; it was too strong for that. After everything she'd witnessed already that day – being saved by Brandish, witnessing her own death, battling Acnologia alongside Natsu, fighting with all of time and space in her hands – it was the sight of Jellal standing over her that threw her. Why was he here? How had he known where she was?

But she didn't ask any of those questions. His hand was held out for the book, and she passed it to him without doubt, without hesitation.

"I've spent a lot of time studying Zeref's works," Jellal admitted, as he sat down beside her. "I may not be proud of my past, but I have lost count of the number of times the things I learnt there have come in handy."

She opened her mouth to explain – about the dragon and the demon and the book that was her best friend – but he cut her off with a shake of his head. "You can explain it later. I trust you. Both of you." His gaze flicked to Zeref. "Tell me what to write, and I shall write it for you."

Zeref's eyes slid shut again. It wasn't darkness he sought, but the vestiges of his own brilliant mind, wrested back from the grip of the madness. Between the pain-filled thud of each heartbeat he wove a raspy, whispered spell in the language of the universe: archaic symbols and magic circles and a library's worth of calculations somehow held within his mind.

And as Jellal transcribed them for him, trusting that he was not doing evil, Lucy could feel the magic of the book changing. No longer was it blindly raging. The Dragon Slayers hounding its physical dragon body weren't the real threat – they were; the humans with a pen and a willingness to do whatever needed to be done to bring back their friend.

The flames of Natsu's furious draconic core battered the demonic part trying to suppress it. The Book of END could not contain the struggle, and darkness lashed out at them from its pages. Heat crackled and overflowed; static toyed with Lucy's hair like she was underwater. The once-sacred great oak that towered over them, already dead, was transforming from a corpse into an undead paragon of nightmare.

As the very source of the magical hell, Zeref took the worst of it upon a body already beyond the limit of life. Lucy held his hand tightly, helpless to stop the words from evaporating in his throat or the light burning up in his eyes.

"We have to stop the recoil." Jellal spoke through gritted teeth. "If I can suppress it-"

"No," Lucy objected. She didn't know why she was so certain, but she was. For all that magic was numbers and runes, it was also heart, and though she may not share Zeref's knowledge of the former, no one understood the latter better than she. The difficult part was putting it into words. "This- this is Natsu we're talking about. He isn't supposed to be tamed. If we want to save him, we have to fight this part of him on its own terms, just like he would."

Jellal's brow creased. "How?"

She didn't have the faintest idea – but someone else did. "Start by replacing elsirrah with azlath."

Lucy glanced up in astonishment. Levy was striding towards them beneath the shadow of the great dead tree. She had tied her hair up in a ponytail, and was shrugging out of her jacket as she moved, the only sign that she had noticed the devil's furnace into which she was walking.

She continued, "They're both runes which can mean fire, but elsirrah is associated with summoning a fire god, which has connotations of binding and control. Nuance matters." She nodded towards Zeref, business-like, the only sign that she had seen what was going on. "We were talking about this just the other day. I know what I'm doing."

After only the briefest of pauses, Jellal nodded, and replaced the rune Zeref had given him with Levy's suggestion. A shudder ran through the grove, a hot wind rising. "Now what?"

"Lucy's right, we can't just suppress it," Levy repeated, sitting cross-legged beside them and ignoring the sweat that immediately began to bead upon her face. "We have to take it on at full power – and we have to win. That's how we get through to Natsu. So… dazag for challenge, ileph for might, and naza-riesn to counter this inferno with cold and earth? Can we construct a triad out of those characters?"

"It won't balance," Jellal considered. "If we diverge ileph and apply Karia's Theorem to the result, we could potentially construct a stable four-dimensional matrix which will have the same effect when projected down to three dimensions… do you have any scrap paper?"

Wordlessly, Lucy handed over her notebook. What she had considered to be a pertinent question – namely, what are you doing here too? – now seemed far too trivial to ask, and they probably wouldn't hear her anyway, as involved in the calculations as they were.

Between them, they worked slower than Zeref. They shared neither his experience nor the frightening alacrity of his mind, and although he had given them full access to the Book of END, this magic wasn't theirs. But they saw things he didn't. They had a creativity that he was, perhaps, too familiar with this magic to attempt.

And most importantly, they knew Natsu in a way his own brother didn't. They knew what would help him win the battle against himself. They knew how to bring him home.

Lucy felt a faint squeeze at her hand, and glanced immediately down to Zeref. He was watching Levy and Jellal with unblinking eyes. Not trying to talk or intervene, not needing to, he gave them the unlimited power of his cursed body and let them do what they felt was best.

A dragon's roar split the heavens. It was a cry that rallied the fates; it bubbled through the earth and turned the scorching wind against them. Levy jerked backwards as the notebook they had been using for their workings combusted. Only Zeref's willpower was keeping the Book of END from going the same way. Their skin was starting to shrivel, and the earth and sky were shaking, and still they did not stop.

There was fire in the air. Beyond the circle Zeref had drawn in his own blood, the ground roiled like a living creature being burned alive, and the great dead tree buckled under the pressure. For four hundred years the immense Aureum Oak had watched over the forest, but without Anna's determination within it, it could not stand up to the storm of hatred. With a sound like the membrane of the world snapping, the tree broke in two.

Vengeful to the last, the crown of the corrupted tree toppled towards them.

And then, just as suddenly, it stopped.

Ice encased its roots, its severed trunk, its twisting, grasping branches; the dead tree and all its malice sealed forever within a crystalline tomb.

Frost laced the scraps of ash in the wind. They drifted to the ground like snow, bringing forgotten relief to burning skin, bringing a moment of pure enchantment to the end of the world.

Invel did not run. It was beneath him. He strode towards them with clipped haste, August at his side, and his eyes were as sharp as diamond.

Wind howled and lava spat, but the elements had picked the wrong man to rage against. Invel Yura did not tolerate any kind of disorder. In fact, he seemed to view the localized cataclysm as a personal affront. His eyes flashed and the press of wintry magic redoubled.

With a jolt, Lucy remembered the war – the conflict hadn't ended just because they'd stopped fighting – and thought about how this must look to someone arriving for the first time. Someone on the opposite side, no less. She opened her mouth, no clue what she was going to say, but Invel gave a tight shake of his head.

"Screw the war," he said bluntly. "Tell me what I can do to help."

Lucy was still staring in disbelief when Jellal spoke up quietly. "If you could neutralize the environment and prevent us from burning to death for a little longer, it would be greatly appreciated."

Lucy was half-expecting Invel to refuse to take orders from Jellal of all people – or at least to look to his emperor for confirmation – but he simply said, "Understood."

Ice flowed around them with such calming beauty Lucy could hardly believe it was real, in this place. With the inferno no longer such an imminent threat, she could not stop herself from demanding: "What are you all doing here?"

"When all was said and done, we couldn't let His Majesty face this on his own," August explained. "Though, I am grateful to see that he never was alone."

"Speaking of which," Lucy said, with a meaningful glance at the others.

Levy shrugged. "What is there to say? I heard you and your boyfriend got yourselves into trouble again, so I came to get you out of it."

"But… how?"

"Long story short, Laxus told me you had been attacked by Acnologia after he dug me out of the ruins of the guildhall. When I was trying to decide whether I should come looking for you or keep fighting in Magnolia, I overheard Alvarez troops discussing a rumour that the emperor had vanished… and it wasn't hard to put two and two together." Pausing only to add another rune onto the matrix she and Jellal were constructing, Levy added, "As much as I want to defend my home, my place is here with you- with both of you."

"But… how did you know where we were?"

It was Jellal who responded with a brief smile. "It's never that difficult to find you, Lucy. I just headed to where the world was ending."

And in this place of devastation, Lucy found herself choking back a laugh.

The madness of the dragons couldn't burn them.

The death throes of the earth in the grip of cataclysm no longer touched them.

The cruelty of the war didn't exist in this place.

It wasn't about friends and enemies; it was about humanity coming together to protect one of their own. When one didn't have the skills, another would stand in their place.

August knelt down beside her. She could feel his magical presence shuddering with the effort of not freeing Zeref from the ritual, but like her, he endured it. He and Zeref regarded each other for a moment, and even though Zeref couldn't move, couldn't even speak, it was enough. August nodded once.

Then he turned to Lucy and said, "I can do the final sealing, but I don't know Natsu myself. I will need your help."

"Anything."

His hand rested gently on her shoulder, and then he released his magic in full. It tugged at everything she was, beseeching her to come and play amidst the wonders of the universe, and if not for the solidity of Zeref's hand in hers, resisting it would have been the hardest thing she had ever had to do. It enveloped the modified Book of END, and the demonic power at its heart.

And he commanded it.

He didn't ask. He didn't beg. He didn't reach an understanding so deep that the magic of another could not help but listen to him, as he had always done before. He didn't weave it from the emotion and empathy that had formed the base of every other spell he had cast in his life.

He commanded it as Zeref would have done, and even though the magic of the demons was tied to Zeref and Zeref alone, it listened to him.

He was, after all, heir to that magic himself.

He turned its wrath away from them. Forced it to stand aside.

And when it did, underneath the rage and the scales and the dark, dark power that gave him life, Lucy could feel Natsu.

Not the boy who had died when Zeref was young, and never came back.

Not the forgotten child, who had been taken in by an irresponsible but earnest dragon, and then had skipped four hundred years and lost most of who he was in the process.

Not the demon fed by loneliness and misery, destined to despise and kill his creator without ever knowing why.

Not the dragon who had sacrificed his soul just to fight by her side one final time.

But Natsu, her Natsu.

Who had woken up alone and confused in a strange time, and still made one hell of a life out of it.

Who had been her hope, her courage, and her best friend for so long that she couldn't imagine life without him.

Who made mistakes and fought with her and hurt her, but for all that, would never hesitate to give up everything he was for her.

He would love this, she thought. After he had fought against his hatred of Zeref so they could join forces to save her, he would love to see friend and foe alike throwing down their weapons to save him.

Actually, that was a lie.

A rueful smile curled at her lips as she acknowledged that that was what she loved, not him. Natsu would not be so quick to forgive those who had harmed his guild. Besides, he may have been all for team unity, but he didn't even know half the people who were fighting for him.

He'd probably like how strong they were, though.

There was a miswiring somewhere in his brain which interpreted overwhelming power as an exciting challenge… and no matter how much trouble it landed her in as his teammate, she had always loved him for his enthusiasm. The way he could brighten any room. The way he didn't just surpass his own limits, but inspired all his friends to go beyond with him.

If he wanted to challenge August to single combat – well, she knew where she'd be putting her money, but she sure as hell wouldn't dream of trying to talk him out of it.

…

Well, maybe she'd convince him to challenge Invel first, and work his way up.

…

Maybe he'd want to challenge her.

Because she wasn't the person he'd left behind after Tartaros any more. She'd found her magic, she'd found her heritage, and she'd found herself. She was stronger than she'd ever been in every meaning of the word.

It was about time he started treating her like he did Gray and Erza: as a worthy rival.

And the next time he disappeared to train for ten months, he'd be begging her to come with him.

Come back to me, Natsu.

Let's fight for real, you and I.

Emotion became magic.

Magic became concepts.

Concepts became mathematical formulae and runic arrays on a page.

Far away, and yet not far at all, the Fire Dragon King gave one last mighty roar – and it wasn't one of madness or fury, but of challenge. Just like it would always be, from now on.

The Book of END burst into black flames.

Levy yelped and dropped it. On autopilot, she scrawled the Solid Script word 'WATER' into the air-

"Let it burn!" August thundered.

None of them – not even Invel – had ever heard him shout before, and none of them ever wanted to again. Levy aborted her spell without even thinking and backed away, eyeing the book warily as the fire consumed it.

"Let it burn," August repeated softly, unnecessarily. "The demon part of him and the dragon part of him have obliterated each other. All that remains is the part of him that is human."

Pages crumpled and turned to ash. The magic – theirs and the book's – faded to nothing. It was no longer needed.

All that remained of Zeref's legacy, four hundred years of love and loss, was a heap of ash on the warped ground, slowly coming apart in the breeze.

The only one not overcome by the stillness was Lucy, who lunged forward and seized the hilt of the sword in Zeref's chest.

The moment her fingertips brushed it, agonizing pain erupted through her body. It was not enough to stop her. She wrenched the blade free, and tossed it aside.

Her nerves were still burning in that ghostly fire as she pulled Zeref into her arms. He was completely limp. Not even breathing. There was so much blood that she couldn't tell if the wound was still bleeding, or if somewhere beneath the surface, it had healed the moment she had pulled the sword out.

But that was okay. He was immortal. He was going to be fine. She held him close and brushed sweat-soaked hair away from his forehead and promised him, in whispers that everyone heard and pretended they didn't, that they were all going home together.

Bleary, confused, and so very human, Zeref's eyes opened. "Lucy…?"

"Zeref!" She held him like he would vanish if she let him go. "It's over. Acnologia is dead. August says Natsu's back to his normal human self. Invel said – you're not going to believe this – screw the war. His exact words! Everything's going to be okay, Zeref. We did it. All of us, together."

Zeref's expression didn't change. Slowly, his gaze roamed past her to the people who were crowding round to see if he was okay. "What are all these people doing here?" he murmured. "Did you bring them, Lucy?"

"No," she whispered, feeling wonderful tears prick at her eyes. "They're here for you, Zeref."

Those who trusted him. Those who were willing to give him a chance. Those who found him brilliant, and wanted to learn from him, regardless of what it would do to their own reputations.

Those who had chosen him above their duties.

Those who loved him.

Zeref's eyes closed again.

He was not smiling.

"Zeref…?" Lucy faltered. "What's wrong? Aren't you… happy?"

He did not respond.

"Zeref? I don't- Zeref!" It came out as a shriek.

Her heart was in her mouth as she peeled back the robes around his chest. There was no wound, but what she had first thought was dark blood on darker cloth was something even worse.

It was darkness itself. It was a black contagion moving inexorably across his skin, draining his vitality, swallowing him whole. "Help! Someone- I need-"

"I can do it," August stated, pressing his white-glowing palm to the spreading blackness.

Lucy let out the breath she had been holding as the darkness receded. When it vanished completely, she even managed a shaky smile. "Thanks. Sorry for panicking. This didn't happen last time – once he was free of the ritual, the sword couldn't hurt him any more. I don't know why this is different- August!"

The darkness was back.

Strands of it spread across Zeref's skin, sometimes flowing like water, sometimes rolling like heavy gas, but always growing.

August's eyes flashed a frighteningly vivid emerald. He poured magic into Zeref's body once more, vanishing the contagion – or whatever it was – until not a speck remained.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

None of them dared to blink.

And it was back, crawling, growing, gaining strength from the weakening of Zeref's own heartbeats.

"How can this be happening?" Invel demanded. "What is that?"

"I don't know," August said. This time, the hand which banished the darkness was shaking. "It almost feels like his curse, but it can't be. It's not hurting me, it's…" His eyes tracked every frail breath his emperor took, ready to act the moment that darkness reappeared.

"There's no point," Zeref murmured. "You can't stop it."

"Watch me," Lucy vowed fiercely. "Tell me what's causing this, and I will undo it, I swear!"

His next words were wondrously gentle: "You can't, Lucy. No one can."

He opened his eyes, and there were tears sparkling in those voids. "You know how my curse works. The more I value the lives around me, the more likely my curse is to take them away. So I pulled away from everyone. I let no one in. I developed ways of seeing the world in which people were merely tools for me to use… and I despised myself for it, truly and utterly, but it worked. The world would be a much better place without me, but as that wasn't an option, I tried hard to perfect the next best thing. For four hundred years, I endured behind my walls, and humanity thrived on the other side."

"But you don't have to feel that way any more!" Lucy burst out. "You are loved, Zeref, so very much – and not just by me!"

"I know, Lucy," he told her, with a patient smile. "I look around, and I see people who have given up so much for me. I see people who trusted me when they had no good reason to do so. I see people who have risked the ire of their friends and society itself to be here with me, for me. I see people who know me, the real me, and yet love me anyway. It isn't right. The world itself rejected me… and yet I see people who will mourn when I die."

He raised his hand, weak and trembling but strong enough to brush a single tear from her cheek. "I can see with my own eyes the pain my death will bring to those I care about," he murmured. "I understand the value of my own life. And thus my curse is taking that life away."

"No," Lucy argued. "That can't be happening. You're immortal! The best your curse can do is tie with itself – unstoppable force, immovable object, remember!"

"It's called the Curse of Contradiction," Zeref said, with the most heart-breaking smile she had ever seen. "All I ever had to do to die was want to live."

"No," Lucy choked. "That can't be. You can't die because I loved you; that would be too cruel-!"

"Do not think for one second that I would change anything we did together!" he retorted fiercely. "How could I want that? We made a promise! No regrets, remember?"

A sob escaped her lips. "That's not fair! If I'd known this would happen, I'd have-"

"Walked away and let me live in despair until the end of time?" he challenged, eyes flashing. Not a dangerous red, but a beautiful starlight. "You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, Lucy. There is nothing I want more than to go back with you. No matter how hard it would be to seek forgiveness after everything I've done, if you were with me, I know I could face it…"

His gaze slid sideways, and in the effort it took for him to focus on her once more, he seemed to have lost the thread of his thoughts. "If Natsu has questions, will you answer them for me?"

"Of course," she whispered.

He clawed at his chest, and for a moment, she feared a tendril of darkness had slipped through August's vigilant defence. Then his fingers found the pendant he had worn for four hundred years, and he pulled it over his head and pressed it into her palm.

"Thank you," he murmured, and she couldn't speak at all. "I need to… to speak to the others while I can."

She nodded mutely, supporting him into a half-sitting position.

Zeref glanced over her shoulder, intentionally this time. "Invel. Come here."

In a smooth rustle of cloth, Invel knelt beside the dying immortal, head bowed. The tip of his ponytail seemed to skitter in mid-air, and it took a moment for Lucy to realize he was shaking.

"Please forgive me," Invel whispered. "I couldn't do it. You needed me to lead the army in your absence, and I abandoned them for my own selfish reasons. This wasn't supposed to be personal, but I let my own feelings get in the way. You were relying on me to be strong for you, for all of Alvarez, and I- I couldn't do it. I couldn't leave you."

"Because you are a far greater person than I ever gave you credit for," Zeref murmured. "Take care of my empire for me, won't you?"

Invel's eyes widened, an uncharacteristic loss of control in a moment that wouldn't have come as a surprise to anyone else. "I- I can't-"

"Invel."

One last order. One last time.

Invel's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Yes, Your Majesty."

Taking a deep breath, he got to his feet. On his knees, he had looked as if the entire world rested upon his shoulders, but as he stood, that weight seemed to fall away from him. He held his head high, proud to show the tears in his eyes, and in doing so, he looked far more like an emperor than his predecessor ever had. "I will make you proud."

"I know you will."

Satisfied, Zeref beckoned for Jellal and Levy to come closer. They exchanged an uncertain glance, the awkwardness of outsiders, but he was not in the mood to be denied, and they shuffled closer.

"Thank you for trusting me," he told them. "Thank you for fighting when I couldn't. I wish I'd had the chance to learn from the magic the two of you wrought just now."

Levy managed a shaky smile. "I guess this is the part where you admit that you have nothing left to teach me?"

Zeref choked. "After one afternoon of working together?" Indignation met the teasing light in her eyes, and he let himself slump back in Lucy's arms with a huff. "If I were any kind of responsible man, I would make you vow never to go near that magic again… but no one has ever accused me of being responsible."

He considered the best way to frame the necessary warning, and then shook his head with a sigh. "I would never tell you not to seek out knowledge, only to be careful about how you do it. You know the mistakes I made. Do not repeat them. That is all."

His gaze flicked back to Jellal. "I don't know what the answer is," he admitted, to a question that had not been asked out loud. "I never found it in four hundred years… but all that really tells me is that it's something I never tried." He indicated those around him, a peculiar bunch of allies and enemies, young and old, mages and scholars and politicians, hanging onto his every word, his every fading breath. "But this – this is new to me. Perhaps this is where it starts."

Wordlessly, Jellal nodded.

At last, Zeref raised his hand and touched August's cheek. "You'll be okay," he promised. "You'll find your way again. You are stronger than you think." Then he smiled, and Lucy didn't understand how a gesture filled with ninety years of love could be so very sad. "I suppose you get it from your mother."

"Not exclusively, I think," August murmured. "Thank you. For everything."

Zeref's hand fell back to the ground. "Let me go."

"But-"

"Please, August."

Leaning forward, August pressed a kiss to Zeref's forehead, and then, with the courage of the gods, he stopped fighting the darkness within Zeref's body. It surged forth with renewed hunger, as the curse that had forced him to suffer through centuries of despair decided that a few moments of true happiness were too much for him.

August turned away. He couldn't watch any more. Invel placed a hand on his shoulder, and to his astonishment, felt the old man clutch it like a lifeline.

Lucy held tight to the one she loved as he closed his eyes for the final time. She told him over and over that she loved him, knowing it wouldn't be enough, knowing he already knew, not knowing what else to do. She hadn't said it enough while he'd lived.

Even after he was gone, she kept whispering it, hoping that her words would follow him into the world beyond.

There was warmth at her throat, the acorn of the Aureum Oak beating like a heart, swallowing her words. There was warmth on her cheeks, wet silver trails, leading her soul away. There was warmth in her arms, from a life that so many people had mislabelled as cold and heartless.

But it was already fading.

And the rest of the world was so cold.

And the present was so complicated.

And the future was so frighteningly uncertain.

She stared at the body of the man she'd loved, and realized that she no longer knew what she was supposed to do, who she was supposed to protect, which side she was supposed to be on, what to do about the war she'd brought upon them, what to do for those who'd died, what lay ahead for those who lived.

What was left of her dreams.

What was left of her.

And in that moment, she understood how Zeref had felt when he'd cradled Anna's body in his arms. She had been so much of him, and when she'd died, his future, his heart, his very hope had died with her, leaving nothing behind but an emptiness so vast he'd destroyed an entire kingdom in a vain attempt to escape it…

"Breathe, Lucy."

She glanced up, and Natsu was there. Alive. Human. She must have been a sight, her face torn apart by grief, clutching the body of his hated enemy, not even able to smile at the fragile miracle of his presence… and yet there was nothing but compassion in his eyes.

He knelt down beside her and rested his palm over his brother's lifeless heart, and Zeref's body burst into flames.

But they weren't the red-gold flames bequeathed to him by the Fire Dragon King. They weren't even the black flames that had punched through Acnologia's last defence. The fire was a pure, sacred white, a blessing, a flame transcendent. It didn't hurt her. It just felt right.

Zeref's body burned brief and bright to nothing in her arms, and she felt nothing but a gentle warmth, perhaps the only warmth the world had left.

Or perhaps not, because Natsu put his arm around her shoulders, and that was warm too. "Just breathe, Lucy. It'll be okay."

The tears were coming thick and fast now, as she turned her head and buried her face in his scarf. "I don't know what to do," she choked. "I don't know where to go or how to fix this or what I'm supposed to do next."

"That's easy," Natsu said, squeezing her shoulders. "Just keep being Lucy Heartfilia. We'll see where we go from there."

A choking laugh. "I don't think it's quite that simple, Natsu."

"Sure it is. I mean, when have you ever gone into anything with a detailed plan?"

And despite everything, she couldn't quite stop herself from smiling.

This wasn't okay, she wasn't okay, but she had the one thing Zeref hadn't, until the last few weeks of his life: she wasn't alone.

She wasn't okay.

But she had people who would make sure that she would be, in the end.