The air burned going in. Gajeel breathed shallowly while Levy turned her face into her white sleeve and coughed roughly. When she came away, her coat was covered in blood so bright, it was startling. Gajeel grabbed her arm and tugged it out for closer examination, though he hardly felt safe taking his eyes off their approaching opponent. "What's happening?"
"I think—it's magic barrier particles," Levy wheezed.
"Coming from him," Carla added, nodding to the approaching demon. The creature lifted hands covered in paper-thin skin so pale it looked dead, and threw back his obscuring hood. What lay beneath wasn't a man and it wasn't really a demon, at least, not one like Gajeel had seen before. Its skin was patchy, an off-grey colour that reminded him of rotting cream. Beneath the holey layer, bits of bone and teeth could be seen. The coup de grâce to the macabre display was the eyes that were blanched so white, he must have been blind.
His mouth opened and words came out, spoken with a tongue so dry, the desert would be jealous. "His Majesty calls you Gajeel Redfox." His voice belonged to the dead, hundreds of dry bones rubbing, last breaths shushing, all merged into one.
Gajeel stood straighter and stepped forward; if Levy realized he was trying to block her from view, she didn't do much to correct that state of being. "You got the right guy. You are?"
"I am known to the Spriggan 12 as Bloodman. You may call me Reaper."
Gajeel scoffed. "Lame name, bub. Sorry about your luck."
"Then why are you shivering?"
Gajeel morphed both of his hands into blades and stepped a little bit closer. The demon watched his every movement, making the dragon slayer think that maybe he wasn't as blind as he thought. "That's excitement, not fear." It was fear.
The demon smiled grotesquely, seeing through him. "His Majesty said you would stand in the way of Master END's resurrection if you could. I have permission to drag you into the halls of Perdition."
"END?" Levy asked, ever curious. "You expect to find him here?"
Bloodman deigned to entertain her. "Yes. He's forgotten who he is. His return to his brother's side is the only thing his Majesty thinks of, and thus, it is the only thing we Etherious crave."
"His Majesty?" Levy pumped for information. Gajeel entertained attacking while the demon was distracted. He moved; the Reaper followed that movement.
"Emperor Spriggan. Zeref Dragneel."
Gajeel stopped. "Dragneel? As in Salamander?"
The demon's face contorted in rage. He lifted his hand and Gajeel was hit with a wall of barrier particles that tried to dig his lungs apart. He fell to the ground, unable to stand any longer, and held his breath until the power faded. In its wake, Bloodman said, "Respect must be paid to Master END. Salamander is not his name. He is the best of us, the one that will deliver us from this world into the next. Filth like you should never address him, but if you must, let it be by Master."
Gajeel picked himself up and playacted, putting on an unconcerned face. "You're out of your fucking mind. This is as far into Magnolia as you get." He took in as much air as he dared. Iron lungs or not, it didn't feel great. He shot a look Levy's way. She and Carla had their arms over their noses but they still looked pale. Make this quick.
"Gajeel," Levy's voice was muffled. "Magic barrier particles are poisoning the air. We have to retreat."
"You go, I'll stay and take care of this guy."
"Gajeel, please—"
"Get out of here," he barked so loudly, both she and Carla jumped. Carla took a retreating step. Levy was more determined than that, though, not so easily bullied, not anymore.
"I won't leave you here to die!"
The Reaper bowed his decaying head. "The girl is right. You'll be dead within moments. It will be my pleasure to guide you to Death's halls."
Gajeel had a short and vivid fantasy of what that would be like. Then he rejected the idea and squared his shoulders. "My lungs are iron."
"Even iron rots."
The demon came.
He was a force to be reckoned with.
Erza had been in a lot of battles and was well familiar with the ebb and flow of a fight, meaning that currently, she knew her side of things was ebbing. Eileen never touched her swords to deflect a blow, but that didn't mean that she didn't get in plenty of her own. Where she kept her hands to herself, the earth and the plants and the air and the water rushed to do her bidding. Nothing made itself unavailable to her. She was the embodiment of power, a true queen of dragons, wrathful and powerful and almost fearless.
The hot trickle of blood sneaking down Erza's chin was distracting. She swiped at it, never taking her eye off Eileen. It wasn't where she needed to be looking, though, it was at her back, where the earth formed itself into a stubby stone golem in the shape of a dragon, complete with gnashing granite teeth, stone eyes, stone scales, and claws so long, Achnologia would be put to shame. Erza only knew it was there because the ground rumbled beneath its body. She whipped around, narrowly avoiding being cleaved in two. In retaliation, she swung with her swords before she realized that it was a stone puppet she attacked. Orion's right sword went wild while the left lost a chip out of its steel. Erza felt the weapon's imbued magic surge, trying to escape through the damage. She prayed that it would stay where it was.
The golem had no vocal chords with which to emit its cry, yet Erza knew it was in pain as the thing's structure rotted before her eyes, then turned to dust like it was a creature made of flesh and blood, desiccated by the centuries.
The last piece hadn't fallen to the ground before she turned back to look at a stupefied Eileen. "Is that what I can hope will happen to you?" In that moment, seeing the uncertainty on Eileen's face, Erza felt the battle's tide change. Maybe it was perceived, but it was enough to give her hope again. She attacked viciously without waiting for an answer and was rewarded as her sword bit into Eileen's ribs.
Eileen flinched and danced away. Distracted looking at the blackening skin on Eileen's midsection, Erza didn't see the root that shot from the ground. Quicker than Erza could blink, it bent her sword so badly, it twisted her still broken fingers and fractured the steel to the point where it became useless. One of Orion's legendary swords, wrecked.
Cussing, she dropped the blade to the ground. It, too, took to dust much in the same way the golem did.
"What will you do now, Erza?" Eileen clutched her ribs as she spoke. Her voice was breathy, nearly taken away by the growing wind.
"One blade is more than enough to end your miserable existence." She hoped.
Eileen smiled. "I've often wondered if what waits beyond would be as unsatisfactory as life has been. Walking Death's halls, will I be able to taste, to feel?"
Erza squeezed her sweaty pommel. The metal crossguard dug into her hand. "You almost sound human when you talk like that."
Eileen's smile was genuine and cold. "No, Erza, though it is very human of you to think that. I've just had a very, very long time to muse. One runs out of things to think about."
Erza was inclined to believe her, Eileen was a monster through and through.
The woman's body started changing shape. Wings burst from her back, scaly feet with enormous claws exploded from her boots. "This is the end for you, Erza. I wish I could sing a hymn for your death, but I find myself beyond apathetic." Those were the last words she spoke before her mouth filled with razor teeth and her nose elongated into a snout. Her scales were crimson stained black, her eyes were cold and unfeeling.
Erza felt her lungs seize before fear made way for determination. "I have faced worse demons than you." She lived with them every night. This would be another to go beneath her pillow until she found a way to make peace with it, too.
Eileen, more dragon than woman now, opened her mouth and roared so loudly, Erza went temporarily deaf. She didn't allow herself the luxury of clapping her hands over her ears; she'd been distracted more than enough during this fight. She opened her mouth and let out a war cry of her own and then she was running, afraid if she didn't move, she never would.
Erza didn't get very far. A dark portal opened before her and a grey man with skin cracked with age stepped free. "Eileen, return to your human form at once."
The dragon roared and swiped at Erza, making her intentions blatant. Erza lifted Orion's remaining sword and caught the attack, for all the good it did her. Out matched, she rolled across the ground like a doll. She came to rest, every bone in her body aching.
"Enough." The man's voice boomed with power.
Erza lifted her head just enough to watch Eileen go from dragon to woman. The retraction of the spell was not without cost, Eileen stumbled and fell, disoriented. it took seconds for her to lift her gaze and find the newcomer through her haze of scarlet hair. When she spoke, her voice warbled. "What is the meaning of this, August?"
"His Majesty demands that we call off our attack," August explained. "Rise and retreat." He spoke with an authority that was difficult to ignore. Even Erza found herself hanging off his words; this man was powerful.
"I have business here," Eileen protested.
"No business that can't wait. Everything is going according to plan, he will be leaving us shortly. His Majesty is expecting us to return."
Eileen stood and dusted herself off. She didn't look as though she were ready to call it quits. Her next words affirmed it. "I will return when I am finished."
Groaning, Erza pushed herself up from the ground. The world spun. Being vertical was unkind to her body.
"We swore an oath as we entered the Spriggan 12."
"And without his Majesty around to uphold it, we are no longer bound," Eileen said fiercely.
"Honour," August spat. "Honour binds us. Stand down and return to Alvarez."
Eileen made to ignore him, stepping toward a still-reeling Erza. August grabbed her by her full braid and yanked her around so they were nose-to-nose. The look on Eileen's face was utter outrage; she wasn't used to such treatment. She opened her mouth to object. August glared; magic bloomed. Eileen's lips smacked back together and skin grew over them. Panic took the place of rage.
"An enchantress is useless without her voice. Do not make me take that away," August threatened. "His Majesty says our presence here is no longer needed, so we will retreat and carry out our oath."
He didn't wait for a reply. Heavy magic filled the air. Erza blinked and they were gone.
Cheria felt more powerful than she ever had before. And crueler. But not without cause, she told herself. At the first sign of waning resolve, all she had to do was think of the blood blooming beneath Wendy's head, staining the gravel below, and she knew that not only could she kill a woman wearing a god's skin, she would be glad.
The takeover mage didn't stand much of a chance. Every attack thrown Cheria's way, Cheria dodged in a very specific manner, bringing herself closer and closer to her target until she was right on top of her. Then she summoned her most powerful, most lethal spell. Heavenly Gathering of Clouds didn't sound like much, but when its power was pounding through Cheria's veins, she thought, I never need to use magic again, if I can remember how this feels. It will be enough.
She held that thought to her heart as she released her final spell ever and watched the Chronos pretender fall to the earth. She followed her down so she could see the soul slip away and hear the last breath of life leave her body. When Chronos was just a girl once more, Cheria felt every scrap of magic abandon her.
In its wake, she didn't know who she was.
A girl that folded into Wendy's arms, maybe. A girl that cried, though she told herself she wouldn't.
Taking in barrier particles made mince out of his lungs. Gajeel forced his body to do it anyway, knowing that the alternative was worse. He was losing, badly at that. The pure energy the particles could give him would more than make up for the gap in power levels, he hoped. It was a careless, reckless move—the actions of a desperate man.
He was hit solidly by a curse resembling Mard Geer's. The thorn pierced his leg. It went numb. Not good, not good, he thought. There wasn't much time to assess the damage or lament the slip in his guard because on the sidelines, not near far enough away for Gajeel's liking, Levy screamed his name.
She sent a spell his way to help—fire. It was immediately put out by a wave of drowning water—a curse both he and Levy were well familiar with. Levy's voice was lost in the overbearing wave. She almost was, too, except Carla traded her hands for wings and lifted the girl into the air, out of harms way.
Gajeel almost relaxed. Then the Reaper used an explosion to tear them from the sky. Spiraling like two downed birds, Carla hit the ground first, then Levy. The smell of blood was in the air, and charred skin. Gajeel's throat got small. He didn't want to look; there was no way to expunge the raw red meat Levy's arm had become from his mind. That was a scar she'd carry with her for her whole life.
Conviction renewed, Gajeel resumed his intake of magic barrier particles, thinking without humor, hell or high water, I'm going to win.
"Does that make you angry, dragon slayer?" The Reaper laughed. "And now you're consuming mine particles? To take righteous action? To kill me for harming the girl? You'll die. You'll die." He got close enough that Gajeel could smell his rotting breath. "You'll die."
Skin felt like it was ripping. Ears felt like they were bleeding. Eyes, blind. One by one, all of Gajeel's senses burned up to make room for the power the barrier particles loaned him. The pain was real. That's your body dying. The rage was real. That's Levy's justice. And the fear, because whothefuck wanted to die?
"Gajeel!"
Levy's voice called him out of a white noise abyss. He blinked and blinked until he saw not just black, but the demon who's heart he was going to pulverize. When he moved, it was with a coordination that was not entirely his own. He hit Bloodman squarely in the chest and felt ribs crack and buckle. The demon stumbled back. When he had stabilized, he drew breath—who knew if he actually gained sustenance from the air—and cackled.
Gajeel came after him again, uninterested in knowing what the hell was so funny. He hit him in the stomach; the demon buckled. He made swords out of his arms and cut through papery skin with an efficiency he hadn't before.
Rage. Rage. Rage. All he felt was rage and righteousness. Screaming, he raised two swords and
And
And hit nothing but dust.
The Reaper was gone, burned from this earth by a force that Gajeel didn't understand.
Flying was never something Lucy was super comfortable with, it was more Natsu's shtick than hers, but she was starting to see the draw to it as Happy flew out of Gray's range, over retreating soldiers and difficult terrain, drawing them closer to the bell tower at a speed that was superior to anything she could match on her own.
Below her position, she knew Gray travelled faster than he should—than he ever could—without the aid of magic. She didn't dare look down, her reasoning two-fold. She had a mild fear of heights, and she didn't want to see her friend-turned-enemy. He wasn't playing as he attacked Loke. Her strongest spirit would be recovering from that bout for days. Maybe weeks.
And your friendship? How will that fair? And what about their friendship? Gray was Loke's best friend, and likewise, if she had to guess.
Stop. Stop thinking about useless crap.
Besides, there was a more enigmatic problem that caught her attention. The fire that had been raging in her periphery was getting brighter, brighter, hotter and hotter as they drew closer. And then it was dying. Lucy's heart lodged in her throat, muffling Natsu's name when she tried to shout it.
There was no response., not that she truly expected there to be.
"Natsu!" Happy's voice joined hers.
A huge dust storm formed out of nowhere and hit Happy hard, tearing him from the sky. Free-falling like a shot duck, Lucy's fear of heights was redoubled. The ground came up especially fast. There wasn't much time to scream.
She hit a barrier that was cold and unforgiving and slid instead of free-fell. Ice, logic supplied. Soon enough, her visual center aligned the events for her brain to catch up: Gray's magic carried she and Happy to the ground on a huge slide made of ice. The taste of blood was in her mouth; she'd bit her tongue when she hit the slide.
The end of the impromptu ride couldn't come soon enough. When solid ground was beneath her, Lucy didn't wait for Happy, she was on her feet, closer to a burning Natsu than ever. In the fire at the top of the hill, she could see his shape. He gripped someone tightly to his body. Zeref, she thought. He has Zeref. And they were burning.
The bell screamed as the tower cracked in the heat and fell; the sound filled the streets, vying for loudness only with Lucy's voice. Natsu's name tore out of her chest again and again, automatically, hanging in the air, waiting for a response. On the hill, in amongst the flame, she felt him meet her eyes.
She tripped on a folded piece of ice and came up hard, knees cracking against the ground. Happy zoomed by her, then fell, too, a solid block of ice. Lucy scrambled upright again and was on the move, reaching for her keys, feeling urgent and frantic and lost. She called for Loke, always, but dropped his key as arms, as cold as she remembered, locked around her middle and dragged her to the ground. Lucy fought every step of the way, screaming and cussing, writhing.
"Stop, stop fighting, Lucy!" Gray bellowed in her ear.
"No. Let me go! I have to get to him." It was so important. She elbowed Gray in the ribs. His hold slipped. She elbowed him in the face and he released her. Lucy was up and running again. Her jaunt was cut short, ice again encasing her legs, stopping her so quickly, she fell to her knees. The skin on her shins screamed, raw. Any attempt to tear her legs out of the trap was useless.
You have to do something. "Scorpio!" Lucy yelled, summoning the spirit without his key in hand. He came into the world in a whirl of sand and irritation. He acted without Lucy's guidance, summoning a powerful sandstorm. It was on a direct collision course with its target when it went awry, pushed aside by a familiar looking light. Lucy felt the gross tug on her magic and had her suspicions confirmed as Loke stepped out of a diminishing gate.
The spirit looked worse for wear, skin necrotized in many places, black and burnt red and dead. "Go, Scorpio."
Lucy's gate closed without her say-so. "Loke—"
He didn't look at her. "Keep her here, Gray, I'll go."
"Loke!"
He ignored her and started away without waiting for Gray's agreement.
Lucy struggled in Gray's magic. "Loke! Get me out of here and take me with you!"
He kept walking.
"Loke! You're my spirit, I command you to—"
A cold hand clamped around her mouth, severing her words. Lucy bit the palm as hard as she could, tasting blood. Gray hissed and released her. Free, she yelled, "Loke! Loke, stop! Take me with you!"
Loke said, "It's too dangerous up there. Stay here where it's safe."
Lucy let out a frustrated cry and pressed against Gray's hold. If it wasn't his ice, it was his arms. He was ironclad at her back; she wasn't getting anywhere. "Let go of me!"
"No, stop fighting." Gray's voice was loud in her ear.
Giving up on Gray, Lucy called for her spirit again. "Loke!" Her voice cracked. "Come back and take me with you!" You'd be wasting time, Natsu needs someone now. She knew that. She couldn't shake the feeling that it should be her. "Loke! I order you to take me with you!" Lucy put magic into that command. She watched Loke falter twenty feet ahead. He stopped.
Elation took her.
And then mystification as he kept on going, disobeying a direct order. It cost him; she saw the way he struggled, heard the way he panted even from so far away. The fire on the hill burned colder. It's going out.
She let the spell go, allowing Loke to walk freely. By the time he reached the top of the hill, the fire was gone.
More than half-numb, Erza stumbled back toward the school. It was so much further away now, and mostly a grey, smoking pile of crumbled brick. Her heart hammered with each step. She kept wondering what she'd see when she entered the halls. Gray and Lucy dead, because that man had carried out Eileen's (your mother's) will? The man dead instead, because Fairy Tail bowed to no one, even in the face of great adversary?
She used her sword to help her walk and knew she was going to need a lot more help than that when a battered Gajeel came over the horizon, strung between a crying Levy and a sweaty Carla. She hobbled in their direction, not in much condition to help but feeling obligated. She got within five hundred meters. By then, Midnight and Sorano staggered out of the ruined building. Sorano came to her, Midnight went to Gajeel.
"Jellal?" Erza asked when the woman's arm was beneath hers, helping her stand.
"I wouldn't be out here on my own if he wasn't up and barking orders," Sorano muttered.
Erza smiled despite herself. "Everyone else?"
"There's a force to the east. I don't know their condition. They're slowly making their way back, though," Sorano reported. "They're moving with the help of the king's guard."
Erza's stomach flopped. "You should get Crime Sorciere together and leave."
"That's what I said," Sorano agreed. "Our fearless leader has different ideas."
Jellal was mad. "Between the King's Guard and the Magic Council—"
"I know," Sorano agreed. "Try telling Jellal that, though."
Erza knew him well enough to know he'd never balk, not when he felt like something needed to be done.
