Chapter 6: Salvation, Part 3

"Sometimes, Salvation can be the same thing as Damnation." - Stephen King

For as long as she could remember, Erza Scarlet had always been afraid. She had been afraid of being hurt by the Guards and their beasts, or even dying at their hands. She was afraid of losing her friends, whether to the work or the guards that one had always been there. She was afraid of these things because of one simple reason, the guards had the power. They had the magic, they had the weapons, and they had the power. And it was that fear of their power, that fear of what it could bring that kept her and the other prisoners in check.

But now the tide was turning, now they had the power. They slaves were like dogs, dogs who had been whipped, and beaten, and starved by these cruel, evil people. Now it was their turn, their turn to turn on the masters and tear their arms off before going for the throat.

And Erza was in the lead. With a sword from the raided armory in either hand, a barrel as a makeshift armor, and a bucket as a helmet she led the slaves forward. They threw themselves on the guards, screams of rage on their lips, lasing out with fists and tools or weapons from the armory. Some fell, holes in their bodies from magic or spears and did not get up. But always were there more to surge forward from behind them, the deaths of their comrades fueling their rage.

"FIGHT!" cried Erza, raising her swords high, pointing them at the guards. "FIGHT! FIGHT FOR OUR FREEDOM! FIGHT!" she cried, and the slaves surged forward, wrestling spears away from the guards and turning them on their owners. The slaves were like a flood, an unending tide against their enemies. Simon was beside her, using a hammer with brutal force, cracking open skulls and breaking ribs. Even old Rob was in the fight, cackling like a madman as he swung his pick-axe around.

"I should thank you sweetie!" laughed Rob as he used his pick axe to put down another guard. "This is the most fun I've had in years!" with that he laughed like the maniac that all Fairy Tail mages truly were and threw himself into battle once more.

One of the guards charged Erza, roaring in fury, brandishing his spear. Erza swung her left sword and knocked his spear away and thrust forward with her right sword, stabbing him through the stomach. The guard cried out in pain and fell to the ground, bleeding profusely. Another guard rushed from the right, only to fall to the ground as Simon's hammer snapped his leg. With a roar reminiscent of a lion's, the young boy brought it down onto the guard's head.

He didn't get back up.

"Dammit, we're gonna be overrun!" screamed one guard to another as he watched the two children and the old man tear into their forces with the ferocity of tigers in mating season.

"This is insane!" agreed the other one. "They're slaves! Dogs and animals! How are they so fucking-" he never finished as Simon picked up a fallen guard's spear and threw it with all his might, impaling the guard through the chest.

The remaining guard looked at his fallen friend in horror and turned too late to see the wrathful boy charge forward, swinging his hammer like the thunder god Thor himself. Simon swung his weapon and hit the guard directly in the solar-plexus, caving in the chest cavity and puncturing the heart with the ribs.

Through the battle haze Simon was only dimly aware that he had killed the man, and frankly he was too angry to care. He could think on his actions later, right now it was ass-kicking time. He couldn't explain the change that had come over him, the dark power that filled him. Some ancient instinct for war had awakened within him, some leftover of his wild ancestors. His father had often taught him with pride of his ancestors, the mighty Vikings. A race of conquerors, hot blood long dormant in his veins.

Dormant till now.

"FIGHT!" cried Erza once more, joy in her heart. They were winning! They were going to win their freedom, and then they could save their friends. "Hold on Link, Jellal, Erick, we're coming." She thought eagerly.

They were an unstoppable tide, an all power force. Nothing could stop them.

Then the explosion came.

It came right at the forefront of the advancing slaves. A massive combustion of black and golden flame that sent Erza, Simon, and Rob all reeling back, along with dozens of other prisoners.

Erza couldn't shake the shock. The blast had come from nowhere, like some sort of divine attack. The slaves, stopped, gaping in horror at the sight before them, the sight which stopped the tide of vengeance in its tracks. Erza grunted and struggled into an upright position, alongside Simon and Rob.

There, in the middle of the crater, was Ghirahim. And he looked pissed.

"So, what have we here?" asked Ghirahim in a sickly sweet voice that sent a chill down Erza's spine. Though his expression was pleasant, his eyes burned with cold fury, ancient and spiteful fury.

Ghirahim's presence was like a mosquito, sucking out all of the revolution from the slaves. His aura exuded power and evil, acting like a poison to the courage that had filled the hearts of the prisoners. The Demon Lord took one step forward, leaving behind a smoldering earth where he had stepped, like his anger was so powerful it had burned the very ground beneath him.

"Never, in all my life, have I seen such an unfabulous and ugly display." Said Ghirahim, his voice dripping with hate. Erza felt herself frozen in place, unable to move from her spot, for Ghirahim was looking right into her eyes. "Never have I seen such foolishness and idiocy from little bits of dust!" he roared, his face morphing into a snarl of rage. "Because that is what you are, DUST BENEATH MY FINGERNAILS!"

Fear struck Erza in the gut like a cannonball as a black and red aura began to burn around Ghirahim, shinning like a star. His power was so thick, so palpable, she could feel the heat from it begin to blister her skin. A hot wind began to blow and the Earth began to tremble beneath him. Rocks and pebbles began to levitate shakily in the air, held aloft by the sheer force of Ghirahim's anger. Slaves began to panic and run away as fast as they could, terrified of Ghirahim's presence.

"No Wait! Stop!" Cried Erza to the fleeing prisoners. "Don't run! We have to fight for our freedom! We can't run now!" she pleaded. It was no use, Ghirahim's presence was enough to send them packing, for fear was his weapon. And fear is a great weapon, a poisonous and powerful one that seeped into the marrow and poisoned the mind.

"It's no use little girl." Sneered Ghirahim as he advanced forward, taking slow and deliberate steps, the power emanating from him in waves. "Fear is the greatest weapon of all." He walked forward until he loomed over her like a wolf over its kill. He was so close that she could feel the hatred in his eyes, and the heat from his bower felt like the burning flames of a hearth. "And I. Am. FEAR!" he cried, and backhanded Erza across the face. The blow sent Erza flying, knocking her swords out of her hands and the makeshift helmet off of her head.

"ERZA!" cried Simon, who rushed forward, hammer raised, completely intent on bashing the Demon Lord's head in.

Ghirahim sneered and snapped his fingers in a downward slash. Mimicking the slash came an arc of black and red energy the blasted down. It hit Simon, sending him flying in the opposite direction.

"Simon! Erza!" cried Rob, horrified at the sight of his two foster grandkids being so brutally attacked. These kids, these wonderful little brats were the only reason he had lasted this long in this hell-hole, their smiles and their laughter had given him a reason to continue forward and persevere through the nightmare. True he was a little cheesed at them for attempting a hair-brained, hastily cobbled together, and very Fairy Tail-esque plan without him of all people (There was such a thing as courtesy!). But they were still his kids, and now this homo-erotic demon wannabe was hurting his brats.

And he was not going to let him get away with it.

For the first time in decades, Rob felt something stir within him. It was the ancient, powerful, and all too familiar force that burned within mages of every color and creed. The indescribable, boiling, unstoppable force of magic.

Rob stood up straight, his bent old spine straightening into the proud stance of a warrior. His blue eyes glowed with righteous fury, his muscles tightened, and once more he felt the fire burn in his belly. In that moment, Rob the slave died. He was dead, gone with the wind. Because Rob the slave was meek and mild, not wanting to cause trouble or rock the boat.

In that moment, he was Rob the Mage of Fairy Tail once more.

"You are going to pay for that you Rocky Horror Picture Show reject." Said Rob in a low and deadly voice.

Ghirahim turned to Rob and sneered at him. "Oh, the old mouse stands up for itself at last." He said. "Do you really think you stand a chance against me?" he asked in an arrogant tone.

Rob gave his telltale "devil-may-care" grin that he had been famous for in his younger days. A look which had caused many an enemy to empty their bowels in fear at the impending attack and removed many clothes from many females. "Nope, but I'm going to give you so much Hell you're little flamboyant grandkids are gonna feel in right in the gonads." He smirked.

Ghirahim raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to retort. In that moment Rob seized his chance and rushed forward, fire bursting into existence along his arms. As he charged forward he roared, "Fire Art: FLAMING FISTS!" and thrust both his fists forward in a double strike, hitting Ghirahim in the chest and the stomach. The blow caught Ghirahim by surprise sending shockwaves of fire along Ghirahim's body.

The Demon Lord was pushed back several feet where he landed on both his feet and one of his hands in a crouched position. "What!?" he thought to himself furiously.

Rob charged forward once again. "Fire Art: FEET OF FURY!" with those words he delivered a flaming roundhouse kick to Ghirahim's face followed by a spin kick to the stomach. Ghirahim went flying, crashing into a stone wall.

The slaves, who had been fleeing from the scene began to stop, surprised to see the old wizard attacking Ghirahim so viciously. "I don't believe it." Said Simon, using his hammer to sit up. "Rob's… hurting him." That fact alone made Simon gape in awe, for Ghirahim had seemed invincible, some unstoppable monster, untamed by nature or man. But now, he saw that it was a much different game. This creature was not invincible, merely powerful. It could fought.

Erza stared from her own end of the quarry, wonder in her eyes at Rob's feats. So this was the magic she had heard so much about! The power that Rob spoke so fondly of that he equated to faith and to love. While Erza had possessed the childish notions of riding on brooms and using toads, this was something she had never expected. Magic wasn't just beautiful, it was spectacular.

"Incredible." She said breathlessly.

As for Rob, he felt his long dormant magical power roar to life within him. He had never felt more alive than right now, with fire in his veins and adrenaline in his heart, he felt years younger. "Yeah that's right you rapscallion!" jeered Rob. "I'm all fired up, and I'm ready for as many rounds as you can dish out."

At the moment there was an explosion of power of collapsed stones that had collapsed over Ghirahim. There stood the Demon Lord, his aura blazing brighter than ever. Ghirahim's face twisted into a snarl of pure, unrestrained hatred of the man in front of him. "I AM ONE HUNDRED AND TEN PERCENT DONE WITH THIS BULLSHIT!" he screamed in hatred. With that he dashed forward, faster than a diving falcon and spin-kicked Rob in the stomach. Rob flew several feet backward, coughing up blood. "You dared to challenge me! ME!" bellowed the Demon Lord as he stalked forward towards his foe. His voice had changed, doubled almost, like there were three Ghirahim's talking at once and his pupils had disappeared, replaced by milky white. "My skin is iron!" he snarled, backhanding Rob like he had Erza. "My fists are pain!" he yelled, punching Rob in the face sending him down to the ground. Ghirahim planted his foot onto Rob's back, right over the Fairy Tail mark. He smashed his foot down, and Rob's scream of pain was accompanied by a horrific snapping of bone. "I am a servant of Demise! I! AM! DEATH!"

"Don't you dare hurt him!" cried Erza, charging towards Ghirahim with one of her swords. Perhaps it was Ghirahim's blind rage making him sloppy, or maybe it was the insanity of Erza's charge. But whatever it was it allowed Erza to land a hit.

Unfortunately it amounted to little. Her sword shattered against his skin.

For a moment both of them simply stood there, both of them staring at each other. Erza staring with fear, Ghirahim staring as though Erza were an odd bug he had found under his chair. Then the moment was shattered, and Ghirahim picked Erza up by her makeshift armor and brought her up to eye level. "You are, ALL OF YOU, beneath me!" he snarled at her, and flung her at Simon. The two crashed into each other, sending them into the rock wall.

"No!" cried Rob, terrified at how his kids might have been hurt. Ghirahim removed his foot from Rob after giving him one last stomp for good measure and walked over to Erza and Simon until he was halfway between the two parties.

"I consider myself an even tempered man, it takes a lot to get under my fabulous skin" he said in a low voice. "But you two, you should congratulate yourselves! BECAUSE YOU TWO WIN THE SOLID GOLD TROPHY! Ghirahim's entire body began to spark with black and red lightning. Cracks in the earth began to appear beneath him as his power grew and the lightning intensified. It was clear that Ghirahim was preparing for some sort of super attack, and all Erza and Simon could do was stare in abject terror.

But Rob could do more, he knew he could. What he had in mind would probably kill him, especially since Ghirahim's attacks had probably broken several bones. But he couldn't let his kids die. As quick as he could he stood and started to run.

It was a sobering thought, knowing that his final moments were more than likely approaching, and in the brief time he had remaining he reflected on his life, and it's choices. How would things have turned out if he had married that cute little thing Cora Mae in Crocus? Or if he'd not let his ego drive the group apart? Or what would have been done if he'd become Guildmaster instead of Makarov? He would have had a solid chance as he had been quite the mage in his youth.

In the end though, he wouldn't have done anything differently, even ending up here. Because if he hadn't, he never would have met these wonderful children. They had taught him how to love in the beautiful and unconditional way that only a parent could, and he would always be thankful for that.

For in the end, there is no greater gift than love.

"This is the end for you two insolent little fools! DEMON FORCE: ETERNAL DEMONIC BARRAGE!" screamed the enraged Demon Lord, thrusting his arms forward, a magic circle bursting in front of his arms. From that magic circle burst a solid beam of red energy. The energy rushed forward towards the frightened children an unending barrage of pure power with the full intent of destroying them.

Then someone jumped in front of it.

It was Rob, the familiar old man stood in front of them, his arms spread apart giving him the silhouette of an angel. Over the relentless roar of the energy they heard him cry out a spell, his final spell. "Fire Art: FLAME MIRROR!" At those words a spiral of fire erupted in front of Rob, spinning at a rapid rate.

Ghirahim's attack hit the spiral of flame with a deafening screech, and the flames wrapped around the beam of energy, mixing with it, becoming a single swirling vortex of power.

"What sorcery is this?" demanded Ghirahim as he watched the flames and the energy intermix. "How can this be?! This power is unstoppable!" The fire and energy combined, turning into a ball of scarlet flames, which flung itself back the way it came.

Right at Ghirahim.

Ghirahim saw the attack coming and extended his arms out, channeling power into his arms in an attempt to stop it in its tracks. The attack struck, and Ghirahim put all of his might into his arms, trying to stop it. The force of the attack pushed Ghirahim backward, towards the center of the quarry. Slowly, Ghirahim slowed his retreat, gaining strength over the ball of energy.

Erza felt horror rise in her stomach. Ghirahim was stopping the attack, pushing it backward. She knew that at any moment Ghirahim would shove it back in their direction, and it would incinerate them. She didn't know if Rob had enough strength to repel an attack of that caliber again, but if he didn't then they would all die.

That's when there was a war cry from far above, the sound of a roaring beast which had caught its paws in a trap. The sound blasted across the quarry with thunderous intensity, catching all of them by surprise. The cry grew higher and higher, crescendoing into a high note that was so painful it was almost beautiful. At the peak of its height, there was an explosion of light from the Tower, an explosion of pure and condensed light.

"What the heck!" cried Simon as the explosion died down. "Where did that come from? Was it some sort of attack?"

Erza couldn't speak, for she felt that the cry was achingly familiar. She had the strangest feeling that she knew that voice from somewhere. But for the life of her she couldn't place where.

Then, on the wind, they heard a voice. It must have been from far away for it seemed to be barely more than a whisper to them even though it was clear the person was yelling at the top of their lungs. But even from so far away it was clear that this voice dripped with power, with strength, with an ancient and steadfast authority that would not, COULD not, be denied.

It was the voice of a King, the voice of a Hero.

The voice of a God.

"HOLY POWER: CELESTIAL SWORD SLASH!" boomed the voice. Erza and Simon's eyes widened as they recognized the phrasing of a magic spell, similar to what Rob and Ghirahim had used during the fight earlier. As the words rang forth, a beam of pure golden energy, at least twenty meters long, appeared to Ghirahim's right. While Ghriahim's power had had an almost vampiric quality on the soul, sucking out courage and will like a mosquito, this power was different. It felt warm, loving, almost comforting. And it filled Erza and Simon with a sense of courage and strength that they had never known before.

The watching prisoners also felt it, and it invigorated their fighting souls. It awakened the power and valor they had felt during the earlier battle under Erza, Simon, and Rob's leadership. It felt as though someone had injected a vial of raw courage into their veins and marrow, and it felt good.

But for the guards it was poisonous. The light seemed to intense, to bright, to… good! It hurt their eyes to look at the energy, and they felt the magic claw at their black souls, scarring them to their cores.

The sword of light slashed, cutting into the ball of energy like a knife through a stick of butter, and the energy combusted in a brilliant explosion of orange and red. As the energy detonated the Godly voice rang out again, as strong as last time. "HOLY POWER: LOVE OF NAYRU!" cried the voice, and the moment the words were spoken, a clear blue crystal pyramid appeared over the explosion, muting it and containing it. The crystal, illuminated from within, cast brilliant colors all across the quarry like some great disco ball.

Erza and Simon gaped in wonder at the brilliance before them, at the beauty of the magic before them, but their captivation turned to horror as Rob fell to his knees and then his hands. He was coughing up a dark liquid that looked suspiciously like blood. "GRANDPA!" they both cried and rushed forward, despite the pain from their injuries. Simon absently grabbed his hammer as they ran, more out of instinct than anything else.

When they reached him they saw just how pathetic the old man's state was. His skin was gray and cracked like old parchment, and his eyes were lacking the brilliant spark which had made them alive. In a horrible moment Simon recalled what Rob had told them a few weeks previous on magic and its dangers. He had warned them that every person had only so much energy in their body, that it was tied in with their physical health, and if you used all of it….

It wasn't pretty.

"Come on Grandpa, get up!" cried Erza, tears in her one good eye as she shook Rob by the shoulder. She recoiled in horror as skin flaked away from her touch, peeling like the outer layer of an onion. "Oh Gods, Grandpa! What have you done!?" she cried, tears falling freely now. Simon could only stare, feeling like he wanted to empty his stomach. Rob, the wonderful man who had taken him under his wing and given them a family was DISSOLVING right before his very eyes. As if he didn't already need therapy.

Rob looked up at them, his lips curling into a smile that literally sent cracks up his cheeks. The old man seemed to be fighting merely to stay in this world, doing his hardest to stay alive, if just to say goodbye.

"Grandpa." Croaked Simon in a hollow voice, grief filling his tone. "Come on grandpa, get up." He said through tears. Simon was no fool, he knew very well that Rob was not getting up, but while his mind told him the truth his heart denied it, desperately clinging to the vain hope that his foster-grandpa would magically recover. That his wounds would heal and he would jump up and yell 'surprise!' and laugh heartily about his merry good joke.

But of course, he did not.

Erza felt like she was drowning. Rob the Magician could not be dying, he just couldn't! All the evidence of her senses must be lying, it was the only explanation! Rob was her rock, her constant, the one thing she could always count on in this nightmare. If he died, she would be lost.

Rob said nothing, he hadn't the strength to. He merely gave them a weak smile and raised up his right hand, brushing a tear away from his beloved pseudo-granddaughter's cheek. As single tear running down his own face, Rob raised his right hand into the air in a fist of defiance. Slowly, with shaky fingers, he raised his index finger and thumb, forming a ninety degree angle.

Rob the Magician died, making his final salute to Fairy Tail.

Sho made two observations as he and Wally carried a half-dead Erick between them, with Milliana carrying Cubelios behind them, across the cliff path and away from the lair of the mad scientist.

One, he had to wake up Erick sooner rather than later. Right now the boy was a deadweight, a burden. If they didn't wake him up or find him a place to hide soon then Erick would be killed. Or worse, he would be taken back to that insane doctor for more experiments, and Sho silently swore he would not let that happen to his friend. After all, he was a little hard to get along with at times but Erick was still Sho's friend.

Second, Erick was deceptively heavy.

"Blood and ashes!" exclaimed Wally. "What the Hell has Erick been eating? Rocks!?"

"Why? Is your head missing a few." Snickered Sho.

"Can it numb-nuts." Wally shot back, but the joke had restored his good humor. Wally grinned as Sho prepared his next verbal attack. Friendly verbal spars between Wally and Sho were not at all uncommon. They were a manner of playful insults that were simply a fun way of letting each other know that they were friends.

"Yeah, whatever you say tin-can face." Grinned Sho as they walked.

"Blondie." snickered Wally.

"Fart-breath." Countered Sho.

"Monkey-but-face."

"Poop-eater!"

"Will you two stop!" cried Milliana from behind them as they hurried along. "You're making me want to vomit! Stop being so vulgar!" she demanded of both of them, a look that was half-queasy half-pleading on her face.

"Sorry Milliana." Said Sho with a blush on his face, not really knowing why he did.

Wally rolled his eyes. "Yeah whatever. Guess we should keep goin' and get Erick some help." As though hearing his name, Erick moaned a bit. Concern filled the faces of his rescuers as his moan was one of dull pain, certainly a cause for concern.

Sho's features hardened, determination flashing into his eyes. "Come on guys, we need to move faster." He began to jog as best he could with Erick weighing him down. The increased speed from his friend forced Wally to also speed up and Milliana as well to avoid being left behind. "Just a little further guys, then we'll be home-"

"That's them! Stop them!" rang a voice from behind them.

The friends skidded to a stop, horror dawning in their chests. All three turned, Wally and Sho making accommodations for Erick, to see the source of the voice. Standing about twelve paces behind them were the little scientist from whom they had rescued Erick and three guards, all armed with spears. Their armor was knocked and they bore cuts and scrapes, one had a shiner on his left eye. From their physical states and the rattled looks in their eyes they were guards who had fled the battle only to be commandeered by the little scientist for his own personal mission.

It gave the three friends a bit of satisfaction to see three of their enemies so injured by the fighting. It gave them a bit of hope for their friends. However, any satisfaction was overridden by the overwhelming sense of 'we are officially boned'. There was no way the three unarmed children could fight off three guards, and they couldn't outrun them with the injured Erick in tow.

"Are you sure that's them Sherrick?" asked the lead guard in a slightly aggravated tone. It was clear from his demeanor and frustrated look in his eyes there was no lost love between the guards and this scientist, Sherrick.

"Yes you fools! Now kill the three of them and retrieve the unconscious one! He is an experiment and I am not done with him!" shouted Sherrick.

Milliana, anger blazing in her normally timid eyes, shouted at them. "You'll get him over our dead bodies!" she cried, trembling despite her bravado. Sho couldn't help but admire her guts at that moment.

"That is the idea stupid girl." Snarled Sherrick.

"This is stupid." Groaned one of the guards. We should be out at the battle, fighting the slaves. If Sherrick wants them so damn badly then let him get them himself. They're just little kids after all." Said the guard. His companions nodded in ascent, sharing his sentiments.

Wally, Milliana, and Sho felt hope flare in their chests. If the guards left and Sherrick was alone then they could stand a chance! Certainly they had better odds against one little middle-aged man than three healthy and hale guards.

That hope was squashed at Sherrick's next words. "Lord Ghirahim is dealing with the foolish slaves. He will make short work of them, and he will expect you to do your jobs. As I outrank you, you will do as I SAY! Do you understand! Do as I say or you will face Lord Ghirahim's wrath!" snarled Sherrick.

The guards paled at the thought of Ghirahim looming over them, inflicting whatever punishments his twisted mind could come up with. The lead guard swallowed nervously and raised his spear. "Form up men!" he shouted, and all three of them formed a line in front of a smug Sherrick, their spears pointing forward.

As Sho watched that he felt hope die in his chest, and wither away to nothing. They were going to die, all four of them, five if you counted Cubellios. And there was nothing they could do about it.

That was when Erick opened his eyes.

This in and of itself would not be extraordinary save for one little fact. Erick's eyes had changed, they didn't look human. No, these eyes were pure dark amber, save for a black vertical slit serving as a pupil. These eyes were empty, devoid of emotion, the eyes of an animal or a monster.

The eyes of a serpent.

Quite suddenly, Erick stood up. His stance was rigid and his arms hung limply at his sides like he was being controlled by some invisible hand grabbing his spine. Wally and Sho gaped at their friend and the vacant look in his eyes. "Um, Erick? Are you okay?" asked Sho a little nervously. The look in his friends' eye, it was a loom no human should have. Erick didn't seem to hear, and if he did he chose not respond. Erick stumbled forward, like a toddler learning to walk. He shambled past Milliana, pausing only run a hand over Cubellios's head. He walked forward, stumbling like a zombie.

The guards began to feel nervous. By all rights they should not be, this was only a mere child after all! But there was something in his eyes, something in his walk that struck a primeval feeling of fear in their hearts.

Erick stopped halfway between his friends and the guards, all of whom were starting to look very nervous as Erick stared at the men, his serpent eyes glassy. Then, he spoke, in a voice raspy and dead like the sliding of metal over stone. "Poison Dragon: ROAR!" he screamed at the top of his lungs.

As he let out the words a spray of dark red and purple energy in some sort of mist blasted from his mouth, right at the guards. As the energy flooded with the speed of a charging ox towards them the guards had no time to move, no time to react, they could only stare in blank shock at the attack coming at them like a massive freight train. The mist-like energy crashed over them like a tidal wave from the angry ocean.

The screams came moments later, horrible and heart wrenching they were screams of pure agony. Wally felt a primal surge of satisfaction at the sounds, quickly overridden by the feelings of horror that surfaced accompanied by the sudden urge to vomit. Sho also looked a little green and Milliana actually did vomit a little.

But when the magical mist started to clear, all three of them did vomit at the sight that awaited them.

The mist had done something horrible to the men. Blue shiny boils covered their skin, some of them having burst open and spewing bluish pus. Most of their clothes had melted away, and their bones were mal-formed and twisted beyond the recognition of anything human. Their tongues hung out, swollen and black leaving them capable of only animal-like moans of pain and misery.

Wally felt himself double-over and spew his guts when the smell hit, Milliana stood there in horror, frozen solid, and Sho made some religious symbol for warding off evil. That was odd, Wally hadn't known that Sho was religious. It was also kind of funny though, if only that one little symbol was all that was needed to ward off this.

Erick swayed on his feet, his eyes returning to normal. He was awake, but looked dead on his feet. Whatever he had done, it had obviously taken a great deal of energy. But aside from his fatigue he seemed unmoved by the dying men before him.

But as the Guards fell over, sounding their death rattles, Sherrick stood still barely alive. He was hunched over, a little stream of drool coming out of his mouth as his salivation glands went out of control. His arms were thick with boils, making one larger than the other. As he stood there, dying on his feet, Sherrick's last human thought was of the irony of his own creation killing him. As the fever in his blood overrode his higher thinking, the rage in his system locked onto the one thing it could find to loose itself upon.

Erick.

With a monstrous howl, Sherrick charged forward, swinging his twisted arms wildly. He was running quite quickly for a dying man, and Erick was making no move to dodge, nor did it seem that he even registered the threat he was so out of it.

But Wally did.

Wally saw the twisted thing that had once been human charge at his friend and panic overrode his better judgment. He acted on pure instinct and flung himself forward, intercepting Sherrick before he could bet to Erick. He dimly heard Milliana and Sho call out to him, but he was too far along to stop now. The force of the collision knocked Sherrick off of his feet, sending them both tumbling sideways and away from Erick.

Right towards the cliff.

Sho saw what happened the moment before it sis as he rushed forward to grab his friend. Sherrick and Wally, embraced like a father and son, tumbled over the side of the cliff, falling the complete four-hundred feet to the jagged rocks below. Sho flung himself forward, extending his hand to Wally just as they went over the side. "WALLY!" cried Sho as he moved forward. Wally twisted away from Sherrick and extended his own hand, attempting to catch onto Sho and haul himself to safety.

Their fingertips brushed for the briefest of moments, and then Wally was gone, disappeared over the side, alongside the howling Sherrick to the rocks and sea below.

"NNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" screamed Sho in a voice that could have broken even the hardest of hearts.

He knew he should look. He should look over the side and see his friends, honor him once more by looking at his corpse on those jagged stones below.

He couldn't. Gods help him he couldn't. Not for money, not for power not for anything. He sank to his knees, dimly aware of Milliana embracing him, and wept.

Ghirahim pulled himself out of the stones that had fallen on him in the explosion, more shocked than anything else. His clothes were badly burned and he felt like someone had rolled a mountain on top of him. He was bleeding from several injuries, and one of his eyes was black and blue.

Mere moments ago he had been on the verge of victory, and the destruction of those pathetic humans who had attempted to use his own power against him. The nerve! But then that attack had come from out of nowhere and had done this to him. Where the hell had that come from! Ghirahim did not like this situation one bit, and looked about in anger for the culprit of the crime against fabulousness.

"Who dares raise their hand against I, the Great Ghirahim?!" he thundered angrily. "Reveal yourself and die immediately!"

"Look behind you." Said the cold voice that had spoken the spell.

Ghirahim felt his blood turn to ice as he recognized the voice. As he turned around, horror slowly rising in his chest, he saw the sight which made him want to crawl under a rock somewhere and weep.

It was Link, that troublesome little boy. The frightened and sad little youth that Ghirahim had tormented so cruelly. Now he stood, his eyes dry, and radiating power. His eyes had turned pure gold, and glowed with ethereal light. His straw-colored hair had also turned gold, and each individual strand floated about as though he were under water pulsating with light and power. His veins and arteries were illuminated with the same golden light, as though the power ran through his very blood.

"Those… those eyes," said Ghirahim in a small voice. "They're just like… just like..."

Lord Ghirax Ahimaous was one of the twelve lords of the Holy Alliance, and alliance of twelve Hylian Lords united under the Goddess Hylia and the Hero Link against the demonic army of Demise. Of the twelve lords, Ghirax was the richest, and the most powerful magically. A legendary wielder of the One Power, the Power Aspect, and his swordsmanship skills were second only to the Hero himself.

But today he was something else, he was a traitor.

Demise, the Dark Lord of the Shadows, had come to him and made him an offer he couldn't refuse. For you see, despite all his power, all his wealth, Ghirax feared one thing, the one thing that no mortal man could escape.

Death.

His fear of death consumed hm. He became as strong as he could, learning every spell conceivable and inventing countless others, all to make himself untouchable against his foes. His sword became as fast as lightning to protect himself from his foes, and he paid the greatest doctors to keep him in perfect health.

And yet for all of that, he still felt the ravages of age lick at his body. He felt faint at every back pain, every wrinkle sent him into a panic, and with every passing year he felt more and more of these tell-tale signs of age. He had outlawed celebrations of birthdays in his lands, and his own had been stricken from the records. And yet, he could do nothing to stem the relentless tide of age.

But now, Demise had given him a way out, and freedom from death as his eternal servant. And all he had to do was sell out the other lords, and the Goddess herself. A fair trade if you asked Ghirax.

But his plan had failed, most of the Lords of the Alliance still lived, and the Hero was after his blood now. He had angered the Lion of Hyrule, and now his fangs were bared.

"Lord Ghirax!" cried one of his soldiers rushing up to him as he sat on his throne, staring at his sword. "The Hero has broken through our defenses, he's coming this way sir. You need to flee now!"

Ghirax smirked and stood, drawing his sword, madness blazing in his eyes. "Let the little kitty come, my master will never let me die." He laughed. He no longer feared the Hero, he no longer feared anything, he knew true power. Now he was invincible, nothing could ever hurt him again.

The soldier shook his head. "My Lord you don't understand! He's unleashing all his power against us, we don't-"

And that was when the entrance to the room exploded, cutting the soldier off.

Where the door had been was the Hero himself, clad in green and red, the power blazed from him like a sun. His eyes blazed pure gold, his hair floated about like golden threads beneath the waves of the Green Sea, and his very veins were illuminated from within.

And in the moment Ghirax saw him, the fear returned.

"Ghirax." Said the Hero, power radiating from his flesh. "I thought I would find you here, skulking about like vermin."

The soldier had run off, leaving Ghirax alone. The fallen Lord glared at the Hero, his fanatic faith in Demise feeding his bravado. "So, the Lion comes to my door at last. But do you truly believe you can best me?"

The Hero glared at Ghirax like a man would glare at an insect found in his soup. Like a bug that had the audacity to ruin a picnic. "There is no question that a Lion can kill a rat Ghirax, and in the end that is all you are: a traitorous rat." The Hero drew the Master Sword which ignited into blue fire, leaving a trail of blue sparks when he swung it about.

"My feat tread the path of Greatness!" cried Ghirax, raising his own weapon. "I shall become a God!" his eyes blazed with fanaticism, fueling the Hero's hatred of him. He had never had much patience for fanatics. Silently his free hand moved in the hand signs for a spell which would quickly end the fight.

"You will be worm-food, and nothing more." Said the Hero with calm certainty.

"I AM GHIRAX!" screamed the Lord at the Hero. "THE VOICE OF DEMISE!"

There was a flash of golden light, and suddenly the Hero was behind Ghirax, his arm wrapped around his throat and the Master Sword poking into his back. "So, you must be silenced." The Hero whispered into Ghirax's ear. With those words he shoved his Holy Sword forward, piercing Ghirax through the heart.

And thus did Ghirax Ahimaous die, and Demon Lord Ghirahim was born.

"No… NO! IT CANNOT BE!" cried Ghirahim in terror. "You're- you are nothing more than a child! HOW CAN YOU POSSESS SUCH POWER?!"

Link slowly started to advance forward, down into the pit, towards Ghirahim. Wherever he stepped a small footprint of gilded fire remained behind. The righteous flames that burned in his eyes seemed to scorch Ghirahim to his black, twisted soul. He took an involuntary step back, feeling very much the same way he had the day the Lion of Hyrule killed his mortal form.

"How is it possible demon? It is quite simple, the Gods are always there for those who walk the path of Light." He said. His voice was tripled, like three Links were talking at once from his mouth.

Ghirahim swallowed his fear and feigned bravado. "Gods? You're Gods are nothing more than a bad joke you insolent pup!"

"Truly?" asked Link, stopping a few feet from Ghirahim. "Then prove it! Strike me down! Kill me! Destroy me! YOU'RE RUNNING OUT OF TIME DEMON LORD!" said Link, his voice filled with the special madness that belonged to things which lived between life and death.

Ghirahim screamed in fury and raised his hands above his head, Demonic energy began to illuminate his arms, and a black and red ball of energy began to grow above him. It grew and grew until it was the size of a small planet, radiating power like a star. "IT'S YOU WHO'S OUT OF TIME YOU WORTHLESS BRAT!" he screamed. "FINAL DEMONIC CANNON!" he bellowed, and thrust his hands forward, flinging the ball of energy towards Link, who remained unfazed.

Link merely looked up at the great ball of power, a slight smile on his face. Ghirahim was getting desperate now, playing his most powerful card now. It was a little sad.

Link calmly raised his hand and softly spoke his spell. "Holy Power: Shield of Unbendable Will," and as the words left his mouth, a massive golden Triforce appeared before him, gently spinning in the air.

The Demonic Cannon collided with Link's shield, grinding and scraping against it, trying to break through.

But evil was not the stronger way. Anger, hate, fear, it was not stronger than compassion and light, only easier. In the end, no darkness could over power the light. For the first time in his life, Link was certain of that fact, to his very core he knew.

The golden shield wrapped around the demonic energy with the tenderness of a gallant embracing his lover. The golden light completely covered the demonic energy, at which point it harmlessly dispelled into a shower of white light.

Ghirahim gaped at the boy who had just defeated his greatest attack with a DEFENSE spell of all things. The Demon Lord became enraged, frustrated that this insolent pup had dared to oppose him. Not to mention he was humiliating him. Ghirahim's fury was palpable, and he prepared to charge forward to make the brat pay.

With a scream of fury Ghirahim flung himself at Link, raining blows down upon him in a furious barrage. But to the Demon Lord's dismay, every time he struck at the boy he was deflected by a burst of golden energy, a permanent barrier around the child. In a flash Link struck back, summoning a bolt of holy energy which struck Ghirahim in his chest. The Demon Lord was flung backward, his flesh burning from the Holy Flames which had struck him.

"Do you see now Demon Lord? There is no darkness which can overpower the Light of the Gods." Said the boy as he turned towards Ghirahim who was struggling to stand.

"Insolent pup, I'm not done yet." He hissed aloud. He prepared another attack, but quite suddenly pulled up. He smiled a wide smile, and unholy smile that Link didn't trust at all. "It's too late whelp." Sneered the demon. "I win." Ghirahim snapped his fingers, and disappeared in a flash of gold and red leaving a suspicious Link behind.

Link shook his head and returned his attention to the tower. It was time to save Jellal.

As Link and Ghirahim dealt with each other in their own respective ways, Erza and Simon stood stunned, looking at the pile of ash that had been Rob. "Grandpa… no," whispered the little red-haired girl. She felt tears come to her eyes and a piece of her heart fall from her chest, spiraling down and down further, never to be found or replaced again.

Simon felt something in his chest bubble up. While there was grief the anger, the white-hot burning rage, was stronger. As his anger rose, he felt something else rise within him. It felt ancient, primal, and powerful. Erza felt it as well, an untamable tide of… something in her chest.

It was magic. Magic triggered by a powerful mage releasing a final burst of power at his death.

At nearly the same moment Erza and Simon screamed in grief, rage, pain, every emotion that they felt rang forth in their screams, and it manifested as magic.

The fallen weapons of the slaves and guards' alike glowed purple and rose into the air, resonating with the frequency of her scream. The energy charged weapons began to swirl around her like a tornado of metal.

At the same time Simon's power manifested. He grabbed his hammer, ancient strength and rage filling him. As his magic boiled over he felt something sound in his blood, the ancient siren call of war. Some long forgotten power left over by his ancestors. The blood of the Vikings raged to life within him, and he loosed a savage war cry. As his cry echoed out, he began to glow with light purple energy. His skin, his hammer, even his eyes. The glow expanded, growing bigger like a shield around him. As the energy took shape, the guards stared in horror as the avatar of a bear surrounded the furious boy. The bear roared in rage, echoing Simon's war cry.

With inhuman speed Simon charged forward, the bear still surrounding him. With his speed, he quickly reached the remaining guards. With the strength of a man many times stronger, Simon swung his hammer, striking the nearest guard and sending him sailing several hundred feet into the nearest quarry wall. The strike was accompanied by a shockwave of purple energy which took out a dozen other guards. As he struck with his hammer the bear avatar struck at the guards with its paws, mirroring Simon's movements and taking out guards of its own with claws of pure energy.

As Simon unleashed the power of his ancestors, Erza screamed like a banshee, her grief and rage palpable in her voice. She thrust her hands forward, sending the weapons forward in company. The weapons struck the guards, exploding upon contact and sending over a dozen guards flying. Her eyes glowing with white hot rage she summoned two swords, one in each hand.

At the sight of their comrades falling and the two children such unbelievable power, the guards resolve broke. They screamed and ran, fleeing the children, and the slaves they had scorned as weak. Seeing the fleeing guards, the fire of revolution reignited in the slaves' hearts. With a collective roar they charged after them, picking up weapons on their way. They threw themselves on the fleeing guards, hacking and slashing with their weapons. They sensed victory, and they weren't going to let it slip away.

Simon stood in the center of a ring of carnage, fallen guards strewn about him. The boy raised his head to the heaven and screamed a cry of victory, the bear avatar roaring with him. As the bear roared it slowly dissipated, disappearing and leaving Simon alone, mortal once more.

As the blood lust and power faded, Simon was left with a sense of dull shock. He barely remembered the battle that took place only moments ago, though the thrill of it and the magic still sounded in his veins. He wasn't tired, not in the least, in fact he felt invigorated, like he had been charged with electricity.

Erza felt powerful, but more in control. She slowly looked down at herself, a single tear falling from her good eye. "Flying on a broom is going to have to wait Grandpa." She said, remembering when the old man had told her about magic for the first time. "Right now, I need to save Jellal." She said, purpose and strength radiating from every pore. She had had her fill of being weak. Weakness had cost rob his life, but now she was strong. Now she would save Jellal as he had saved her.

She had no way of knowing that he was beyond saving.

Link knew something was wrong the moment he stepped into the room where Jellal was being held. It was something he could see, feel, and feel more than anything. The Shadows seemed to be too long, the air smelled of sulfur, and the room just felt… wrong.

Link stepped into the room, a new caution in his step. In the dark dungeon-like room his golden light blazed like a candle. Holy power illuminated the room, but it only seemed to make the shadows longer and even more sinister.

Link had never felt this way before. The power was intoxicating, it made him feel invincible. He was invincible, unstoppable, a living force of nature. His vision was perfect, but he viewed the world as though he were high above it. Things and people seemed smaller, and his feet felt as though they trod on clouds. This was the power of the Heroes of Old, this was the power of the Gods.

So why was he apprehensive?

He walked towards Jellal. The blue-haired boy was easy to spot but hard to look at. His shirt had been torn to shreds, and his torso was covered with burns. He looked pale and weak, like he had had all the life beaten from him.

So why did it seem that all the shadows slanted towards him.

Link longed to run towards his friend, to embrace him and run with him into the sunlight. But something held him back, something held him in abeyance. There was something about the way Jellal was standing, something about the way his bangs hung in front of his face. Something that made him nervous.

"Jellal?" called Link hesitantly. There was no response from the bound boy. "Jellal, are you okay."

There was a long moment of silence before the blue-haired boy finally answered. "Oh yes Link, I'm better than I've ever been before." He said in a voice that sent nervous shivers up Link's spine.

Jellal's bonds burned away, scorched by black fire. Link's instincts started to scream at him to flee, but at the same time he felt the desire to stay. He needed to witness this, he just wasn't sure why.

Jellal stood, looking up at Link from the floor. His bangs parted, and Link took a step back when he saw the look in his friend's eyes. The look in his gaze was not a normal one, it was the look of a madman who found the world to be a hilarious joke that only he could understand. There seemed to be fire blazing in his pupils, a dark and unholy fire ignited and fueled by the souls of the damned.

"Jellal." Said Link in a small voice, horror in his voice. "What has happened to you?"

Jellal threw back his head and howled with laughter. "I'm like you Link." He sneered at his friend. "I've been saved. A-h have seen the la-aight!" he proclaimed in a bad accent. His gaze turned from an amused sneer to an intense glare. "I have been shown the true light of this world, and I have welcomed it into my heart."

"What are you talking about Jellal?" he asked, summoning the light to his fingertips, just in case. He was not liking this, and he felt the darkness in the room increasing, the shadows growing darker, devouring any light that touched them. Then, to his shock, he saw the grim reality.

The shadows were starting to move.

"You know of the one I speak Link." Said Jellal coldly. "The true King of Earth, the Lord of Darkness, the Father of Lies, the One who Walks in Flame."

Yes, Link knew those titles. He knew who Jellal spoke of, He knew the name of the one who had corrupted his friend's heart.

"Demise." Said Link quietly, feeling very human fear affect his Divine Mentality. "Demise, that is the one you serve."

Jellal began to sarcastically clap, a look of utter contempt on his face. "Oh brilliantly deduced Link! You've earned a gold star you hopeless, self-righteous fool." He snarled.

Link shook his head, his hair leaving behind a small trail of golden light. "Why?" he asked, pity in his voice. "Jellal, why did you do this?" It was all he could manage to get out, his heart was so choked with emotion.

The pity in his foe's voice filled Jellal with abhorrent rage. His eyes blazed with hatred and his face screwed up into a horrible grimace. "Why? Why do you think you ignorant sack of piss!" he snarled. "I'm tired of being weak! Tired of being a weak, pathetic little boy who's everyone's victim. I will be the strongest! I WILL RULE ALL THE WEAK FOOLS!" he screamed.

Link's face quickly morphed from pity to rage, and the golden light around him blazed to life. Celestial fire raged forth from his eyes and arms, a raging inferno with all the intensity of a dragon's breath. Jellal saw this and the black and red flames of evil ignited around him, burning with equal intensity to Link. The brilliant light of Good met the corruptive light of Evil, each matching each other in rage and intensity.

Both warriors realized that they could not best each other in this manner, and their lights dimmed. There was silence between them, until Jellal snickered and left his battle stance in favor of a more relaxed one. "Well Link, it seems that our power is equal. I don't doubt that your own power is phenomenal, but even with this free pass the… puke who rules the heavens have given you, we cannot match each other as of now."

Link glared at him, but admitted that he had a point. "So what do we speak of Jellal?" he said cautiously, trying to ignore the pain in his chest. How could Jellal do this? How could he sell his soul to a monster and abandon those he loved?

Jellal smirked. "Well Link, we could either stand around and kill each other, or, you could leave. Yes, you could leave. Take our friends, take the slaves, I care not. I can get more."

Link narrowed his eyes. "Why do you need slaves Jellal." Asked Link coldly.

The blue-haired boy laughed. "Wouldn't you like to know old friend! But no, I cannot tell you now, suffice to say that I and Lord Demise have plans for this place." He said with that same shit-eating smirk. It alarmed Link to see how quickly Jellal's moods changed. It reminded him a little too much of Ghirahim. "But what do you say Link? Leave with those you love and deliver the freed slaves from bondage? Or kill each other here and now." He said.

Link paused, trying to think rationally above the whirlwind of emotions in his mind. He had to make a choice, now on the precipice of two destinies.

AN: I lied, they aren't reaching Fairy Tail yet. I considered going further, but once I hit twenty pages I called it a chapter and split it up one more time. I'm sorry if it seems like I'm dragging my feet, but stories have a mind of their own.

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