This chapter's song is Frontline by Pillar.
Sting flies over our heads, the crash against the earth earning winces from all of us. That is not going to be pretty- or fun to heal.
Our magic is running low, and the injuries are accumulating as Alduin roars again. I hate this dragon, I think, as I grit my teeth and tighten a tourniquet on my arm. There is no magicka to spare for healing, as much as I'm not used to it. Conserving magicka is the biggest concern now. The longer we fight, the more he gets worn down.
The last few dregs of magicka are being wasted in our feeble attempts to repel him. I close my eyes as I think of what I might be able to do, to try and prevent him. This is, after all, my destiny, although not my fault.
Alduin's roar is cut off as I think, causing those of us fighting to turn our heads to watch.
The person who interrupted Alduin's roar slams down into the ground, and the dust clears around them, at least enough to tell that it's a Dragon Slayer entering Dragon Force- and the only other person who can do that without going into a different mode (222) is Rogue.
I hear more voices joining in, and ground forces whip up with the dispelling of a Cover spell, one that apparently was powered by Kessie. She waves at me before turning to give Ortelloth a 'good luck' kiss on the cheek, though she doesn't leave the battlefield.
Beside them stands Lucy, wearing her Taurus Star Dress, Cana, holding out her right arm, which has something tattooed on it, Gildarts, his arms raised in a fighting stance, and others, all from the remaining fragmented guilds.
Maybe I should let them live after all, I muse, as I survey the reinforcements. Maybe we have a chance. Maybe they'll all die.
Eh, you never know. It's possible.
The leader, Lucy, glances at me for a second, before nodding, and charges with her whip lashing out in front of her, destroying the ground where Alduin just landed. The black dragon roars, drawing in breath to Shout at her undoubtedly, but the spell powering up courtesy of Cana fires at him, sending him flying back into a mountain.
The Dragon Slayers, invigorated by this, start powering up their attacks, especially as Levy and Lucy run to join their Mates on the battlefield. Ultimate attacks light up the place, and I smile under Konahrik as I power up Lightning Storm in both hands, the spell familiar to me in almost every way. Instead of it being used by both hands in one instance, though, I feel the power in both, and the Ultimate attacks are hitting Alduin at the same time as I unleash both spells at the black dragon.
He roars, Shouting into the sky as his skin starts to disintegrate from the pure force of our blows, even as Gildarts uses Crash to destroy his bones, the magical attacks tearing apart what is left of his soul fragment.
The final cry he gives Shouts out to the world, making the ground quake and rumble as his ashes leave, going to Aetherius, presumably, but that doesn't stop the ripples of energy going through the earth.
Half the guild members fall over, while the other half try to help them stand up again, before falling over themselves.
I collapse to my knees as the ground rumbles, not even caring about it and what it might spell out for the world. We just saved it- worrying about it again can wait.
However, that does not seem to be on everyone's mind.
A lacrima call, could you believe it? Nothing too bad. Invel and Synapsicodia intercepted Natsu and Lisanna, and are holding them for me. Mneme seems to think that I wish to punish them for not participating in the fight for the world.
Ah, she knows me so well. To the lacrima, I say, "Enact plan 23, Mneme, for them. I doubt I can personally see to it at this time, but they need to learn for themselves what it means when they don't stand up for the world."
She bows her head in the picture, and smiles at me. The lacrima magic fades as the call ends, and I stand up, finally able to do so steadily. There is one more person here I have not seen yet, although, why he did not help, I am not sure. Perhaps he did, and I simply did not notice. (223)
Bickslow walks over to greet me, and I smile tiredly, before remembering that I have a mask on.
"You survived." he comments, in a playful tone while his puppets behind him chant, "Survived, survived."
"It would appear so." I say back, my joy at beating the World Eater yet again being suppressed by my tiredness. I wasn't nearly this tired after beating him the first time. Was I?
Shaking off the thought, I sigh, and drink in the day dawning as the sun breaks through the cloud cover. For once, I am glad of the burning sensation of the sunlight upon my Sil.
"So what's the plan now?"
"You think I plan things." I scoff at him. The only thing I've planned in the last decade or two was this entire thing to get Bickslow back. Why? Because I was insane.
A vision of red swamps over me, the field and it's occupants the same, except when I look down. I'm covered in blood, my blood, and my wings are gone, gashes decorating my body distastefully, armor ripped through, shield demolished, sword broken, magicka gone. I look up, and I find someone reaching down to gouge out my eyes before going for my throat, ripping it out and laughing as I struggle to breath, my sense of normalcy destroyed. The final thing the person towering over me does is to reach into my chest cavity, torn open already, and pull out my slowly beating heart. The action makes me cough up blood, while my hands scrabble feebly for purchase on the ground as it becomes soaked with my blood, staining the earth for centuries, perhaps millennia, because I was murdered here and I have failed the world.
I'm brought back to the present by an intense pain in my back.
Looking behind me, I see a ghost- Mavis Vermillion- tearing my beautiful wings off of my back.
My scream echoes through the air, the pain infused into it setting random things into motion that shouldn't. A mountaintop trembles, trees bend down and spring back up so violently some of them uproot themselves, any creatures capable of hearing it howl, yip, bark, or cry out at the pain accompanying it, quite possibly breaking their eardrums.
Head pounding, blood oozing from every conceivable part of my body that an enemy could hurt, I turn to face the culprit who tosses away the good things about being Dragonborn like they are disgusting pieces of trash that are unworthy of touching her ghostly pale skin.
I roar at her, the air vibrating for miles around, probably deafening anyone close to me. She flinches back a bit, but her face is set into something resembling a gargoyles- not ugly, but definitely hard, and a bit grumpy.
Everyone moves to get a proper look at what's happening, though, and the sudden intakes of breath let me know that this is probably the weirdest thing that any of them have seen.
She stands her ground (224), and looks down at me in the most despicable fashion, as if I'm a bug beneath her that deserves to be squashed with supreme prejudice.
"You have shattered our family, and you continue to be unpunished for your heinous deeds and actions. I will rectify this discrepancy." she speaks out, voice echoing throughout the field, as if she had just read a death sentence for myself.
"Do you know that dragon we just defeated? I am the reason he is not here anymore. If I die, no one can save the world if he comes back." I growl out, teeth clenched to block out and fight the pain.
She narrowed her eyes at me, and lifted her arms, the familiar glitter of a spell powering up easy to identify. I growl, already weak from the battle with Alduin. This is not going to go well for anyone involved- the absence and sudden loss of wings is not going to help me in any way. (225)
I can't win this by myself, and everyone here will know that, if they haven't figured it out already. This is the third battle today that I've had to fight against a foe that is impossible to kill (226) in almost every sense of the word.
Using my Voice, which is one power that they can never take away from me, I Shout, "Mul Qah Diiv!"
The spectral armor forms up around me, and I feel the power surging through me, reinvigorating me at least for a few moments. This should help, if only for a while.
My armor, however, is not suited for this fight- Konahrik and the Ebony Mail have taken quite a beating. Hurriedly, while everyone looks away at the brilliance produced by Mavis in the spell's power up, I change from the heavy armor into the Ancient Dark Brotherhood armor.
The comfort they give me is invaluable, if I am to die here.
Helping myself through it, I whisper, "My Sil is a Miraad to a God's power- and their wrath."
Instead of excruciating pain and the erasure of my body, though, I feel nothing but a comforting hand, as if someone is caressing my cheek like a Mother does to their child.
"Rest, my Listener. Your Father is taking care of it."
I don't argue, and feel my consciousness relax, slipping into what appears to be a light sleep that feels promising in the way of restoring my strength. The presence I feel is singing softly to me, something that I never got to have as a child.
"Sweet mother, sweet mother…"
When I wake, I find myself staring out onto a scene that is terribly confusing.
Darkness is all around my consciousness, but I can clearly see my body- more like in a vision, and my consciousness is elsewhere. Here. The Void.
The Night Mother is next to me, watching, her form ethereal and half-here. Her red and black hair flows, disappearing at the ends, in an unending breeze, and her skin practically merges with the darkness, as if it's both her and not. Her dress disappears at the bottom, and yet she manages to exude a motherly affection, though I'm not sure if it's aimed at me or the entire Void.
"Come, child of mine, and watch your Father take down that idiotic girl." she speaks, voice comforting to me and like the voice I always hear in my head near the Night Mother.
I obey, sitting down next to her on the ground she patted just moments before.
"Isn't it wonderful?" She sighs, gesturing around. It's a murky realm of darkness and shadows, with the presence of ghostly voices from every space whispering. It's creepy, but… lovely.
"This is the Void?" I ask, my voice quieting the voices for but a second, before they start again.
The Night Mother nods, and turns her attention to a portal that shows an image of the world before it. Looking at it, it becomes clear to me that this is a portrayal of a fight- with me.
But…
"Who is in my body?" I whisper, and the Night Mother laughs.
"Is it not obvious? It is Sithis."
Peering at the portal, I can see the eyes of my body are glowing with power- and exuding a black mist from them. My eyes widen at the revelation, and I gasp. My body is able to withstand the Dread Lord's power?
The Night Mother answers me. "Yes, but not for long. Your soul is truly unique- to go through so much darkness, so much loss, but to keep leading our Family and steering it through such challenging times that have come about. We wish to reward you- and Sithis is fighting your battle for you. You will feel the burn afterwards, of course, but there is no way he will not win."
I can't say anything, but merely watch as Sithis, in my body, lands a blast of dark energy on the first guild master of Fairy Tail, who cries out in pain and floats down a few more feet. Grinning, as the mask for the cowl has slipped down to around my neck, he fires off another bolt, using both hands, at the Fairy- who stumbles and drops to the ground.
He rushes forward and slams my fist into the petite girl- sending her flying back, only to suffer more and more blows like that upon her fragile frame.
I can only seem to focus on the fight- although I can faintly hear with my own ears the sounds of people screaming. Fear is often associated with the Dread Father, so is it not rational that he would inspire such fear that the onlookers are merely panicking with fear?
Or am I killing the immortal ghost of the First Guild Master of Fairy Tail?
Well, not me. My body.
That's going to be fun to explain.
I look on at the images of my body- driven by Sithis- pummels Mavis Vermillion's ghost into the ground. Is this the first time he's been in a mortal body?
He's visited Nirn before, of course, with the Night Mother and her children, but… he's never talked to me or done anything to let me know that he approves of what I've done with the Family.
Worrying will get me nowhere, though. I refocus my attention on the portal in front of my eyes, and find that the fairy's form is crumpled in front of mine, broken and bloody, unconscious and bleeding, barely grasping at life, shuddering in every breath and coughing up mucus and blood from collapsing lungs.
One final thing happens before Sithis relinquishes his grip upon my mortal body- he focuses his own dark power- all that he can hold together in a pitiful vessel like mine, and exudes it, marking the land black for miles around and decimating the plains of Whiterun, but guarding it for any who wish to have safe harbor in our Family.
As I return to the mortal realm and my body, I feel the sacred essences seep into me, rejuvenating enough strength that I am not dying, although my limbs burn and my lungs feel as though they will burst with the amount of air I need.
I look down, my vision not the clearest, but I can still see the silhouette of Mavis Vermillion being pulled into the ground, her Curse being released so that she may rest. Sithis used her power to create a safe haven for his Family.
I'll take that as a sign of approval.
The silence around me stretches, and I turn to look at those behind me, to find that they're about half a mile away and gaining. Moderately fast.
I am in no condition to talk, explain, or fight any of them. Perhaps… it is time.
Another roar punctuates the silence. A dragon's roar.
I look up in horror to find another black dragon hovering over the field, but it's not Alduin.
It's Acnologia. (227)
I curse. With my state there's no way I can stand up to a single blow, or do any damage without putting myself in immediate danger. However, I cannot run.
If this is my fate, it's quite a lackluster ending. (228)
Another roar comes to my ears, however, as Acnologia is powering up a spell that would likely incinerate this entire sacred ground. It's more human than the dragon's, but it's not….entirely.
It comes rushing to me- Tsun's. But why would he Shout something into Nirn?
The answer powers down through the sky with a flash and a rumble of lightning- black lightning. The spell smashes into Acnologia head-on, and the caster follows a moment later, delivering a devastating punch to the head of the dragon.
Electricity crackles at the point of contact, and explodes, making the dragon roar in pain and blunder around blindly for a time.
Unfortunately, the dragon steps onto the sacred ground of the Black Hand, and immediately, shadows latch unto him, the tendrils growing larger and longer as they start to creep up him, the dragon unable to shake them off. As an added bonus, the shadowy tendrils pull him further into the sacred ground, allowing for more coverage on the limbs as they pull and pull. A dragon's strength is no match for a God's.
The man who started this off slams into the dragon again, making him roar and spew fire into the air as he tumbles into the ground of Sithis, allowing the tendrils to completely cover him.
Static sparks play all over the creature, shocking him into obedience and compliance.
Finally, the last thing to be silenced about the creature is its roar, the black completely covering him and moving his mass, concentrating it in a smaller, much smaller area, and bringing him to my feet.
Out of the shadows, pops the head of a man.
Just because he's wrapped in shadows, though, doesn't mean that he doesn't struggle. The human Acnologia bursts out of his restraints, roaring as he swipes his hand at me and throws me backwards.
I skid a few times before coming to an ultimate halt, my armor now brown with dust. Taking a hold of a sword at my side, I draw it, finding not Dawnbreaker, but Harkon's Sword, the one I call the Vampire Blade. Acnologia roars again, springing forward using Dragon level strength to intercept me before I am ready. I hold the blade out, steady, and take a deep breath. This one- this could kill me. (229)
I close my eyes and swipe, feeling the impact of two things.
One- my sword hits something, slicing heavily as the person or object hitting it was unprepared.
Two- I can feel something stabbing me in the stomach, more like it was formed by a punch and then the wielder reconsidered, trying to tear me apart.
I open my eyes, almost fearful of what I will find, and see Acnologia in front of me, a blade sticking through his chest, while his arm is impaled in my stomach. Remarkably enough, neither one of us has moved.
He glares up at me, wrenching his hand away from my body and stepping away, the blade withdrawing from his chest. I watch this, detached, and don't really comprehend the fact that he prepares another strike, flinging the back of his hand against my face. Enough force is behind the strike that I go flying backwards, landing on the blackened dirt, face hitting the ground unceremoniously.
I struggle to get up, feeling the impact of both the hit and the punch to the stomach from earlier. Pushing myself up, I turn my head to the person who struck me down, already charging. Mentally cringing, my hands push into the dirt, and I look down in alarm, finding my hands swallowed by the darkness. It is a Sanctuary….
I sink in deeper, and smirk a bit at the timely escape it provides me, transporting me to a different area, behind the Dragon-turned Human. (230)
He looks around in confusion, slamming his fists down where I was a few seconds ago, and not understanding what just transpired. This only gives me a few seconds- but I can do it. I bring out Auriel's Shield and Mehrunes' Razor, Shouting, "Wuld!"
I come up right behind him as he turns, the Shout alerting him, and I slash him across his face, regrettably not killing him, but I get a few more swipes on his chest making contact before he growls and powers up a spell, slamming his fist into my Shield while I blocked.
The spell, powerful as it is, is partially stopped by the enchantment, and he looks surprised when it doesn't shatter.
"This is a God's artifact." I state, and his eyes widen at that fact. "And guess what it can do."
I bash him with it, sending him flying back by the energy absorbed by the Shield.
He hits the ground, managing to grasp at it with his hand, slowing his progress. Sadly, it doesn't seem to have any other effect on him than sending him back by a good amount.
Damn it.
He gains speed as he takes off, going towards me at a rate that shouldn't ever be possible, but a man steps in the way.
With a little bracing, by the time Acnologia reaches him, he stops him by clamping onto his outstretched fist. With a little magic touch, he sends a crackling lightning bolt at him, sending him flying back into the ground almost a mile away.
The man turns to look at me, and nods. In his eyes are the look of a man who has faced an enemy I have- and welcomed them as a friend.
He has faced Tsun- and come back from the dead.
I nod at him, and step back. This will be his fight- should he need assistance, I will step in. But until then, Orga Nanagear will fight this Dragon on his own.
I doubt he'll have too much trouble.
Orga meets the Dragon where he lies, taking a great leap and slamming his fist, glowing with magic, down on his opponent. Acnologia lets out a roar, aiming his magic at the person on his chest, but the other hand of his opponent comes up and forces his chin up, making the magical expenditure useless.
Unfortunately, Orga forgot that Acnologia has two hands. Said hands punched simultaneously into the hand keeping him from hitting the Lightning God Slayer with a Roar.
Orga recoils, a bad decision, and Acnologia takes the opportunity to let loose a Dragon's Roar, the impact sending Orga flying high into the air and flipping several times, coming down and creating a crater at my feet.
Hm. Interesting.
The newly alive man grunts, getting up with effort, but nonetheless getting up.
Unsurprisingly, Acnologia's caused some damage. As a 400 year old Dragon nee human, he's had quite some time to perfect his magic and make it much stronger than any on Nirn- except mine, of course.
But there's still a matter of debate on that. If I can get Acnologia down, maybe….
I shake the idea off, but prepare a spell anyway. Orga will need some help, it seems, and I am glad to oblige. Even if I could control Acnologia, I doubt it would work for long. According to reports from Decimus, he is resistant to Dragon Supremacy magic, as told by the future Rogue during the 7th Grand Magic Games. So it would look like we have no choice but to subdue him so that we can execute him.
Dragonbane sings out it's tune as I draw it from the scabbard, the spell still charging up in my right hand. Orga turns, looking at me, but is interrupted by Acnologia roaring and slamming his entire body down on him, allowing me to release the spell, aiming at him, while slicing forward and making contact with Dragonbane.
No sparks dance across his skin, but an open cut leaks red blood, and he roars out in pain. The spell fully hits him, poisoning him with a very special root converted into a spell. (231)
He'll be down, eventually, as the poison spreads through his system, but it will take much too long to just wear him down. Keeping his heart pumping with lots of physical expenditures will cut down the time needed for his demise by half, at least.
Still, this could take quite some time.
I grit my teeth as he roars and swipes his hand at me, making contact and sending me spiraling into the ground. At least he's forgotten about Orga, for now.
Speaking of which, the God Slayer reaches up, clasping the human dragon's legs and slamming him into the nearest ground, conveniently above Orga's head (232). It better have been hard- his strike hurt more than I care to admit- and possibly aggravated my wound from before. This delusional dragon needs to die.
A flash of light blinds all of us for a few moments, and when I open my eyes again, I see a blonde man, hair halfway down his back and dressed in a crimson cloak standing where Acnologia was but seconds before. Turning, he offers his hand to Orga, who looks confused for a moment, but then laughs and accepts it.
Faintly, in the distance, I can hear Acnologia slamming into the ground repeatedly. (233)
Together, the newly reunited duo from the ashes of Saber Tooth take the fight to the human nee Dragon. Lightning bolts leap down from the sky, amplified by the Memory Magic of Rufus Lore, throwing their full force into Acnologia.
I can't say I don't enjoy the scream he lets out.
Using magic, the duo takes to the air, jumping higher than should be possible and landing squarely on their enemy, burying him into the black earth.
His roar echoes, sending both of them flying back and narrowly missing anyone else. I concentrate on the soil, and feel myself sink down, appearing again near Acnologia, who doesn't see me yet again.
Focusing, I pour my magic into the soil, feeling continually more and more exhausted. This day, it's just a walking disaster, is it not?
The jarrin root is weakening his reflexes as it works it's way through him. Where it would cause instant death in any other person, in a dragon? Doubtlessly too long for us to survive. And I tend to try and avoid dying.
Using the power within me, the soil responds to my touch beautifully, forming up around Acnologia, slowly sinking him into the black soil that belongs to Sithis. He looks down, then around, charging up his fists with magic for the culprit responsible.
His eyes narrow, and he throws the spells at me, probably painful in nature.
I am, however, not sure, because Romeo Conbolt stepped in front of me, taking the hit and shielding my body from the effects of the magic.
222- Like Lightning-Fire Dragon Mode, or Iron Shadow Dragon.
223- No, he helped. Definitely. I can't cast Lightning Storm in two hands by myself, you know. As powerful as I am.
224- Well, she's floating. So, air?
225- It'll drain me more- and I've already used Highborn today, as well as a myriad of other powers.
226- Though I have killed the others, who were immortal as well.
227- YES, I KNOW WHO THAT IS. Now.
228- Well, for me.
229- I generally don't think about death. It's not a nice concept, but especially for me.
230- Well, Dragon Slayer turned Dragon turned Human again.
231- It's jarrin root, if you're wondering.
232- Injuring yourself is never a good move, nor a fun one.
233- Again, I hope it's stone. Or harder.