Adassandra was quietly walking ahead, contemplating Makarov's instructions to Laxus. She felt an odd connection to the old man, his countenance not so dissimilar from Barsky's own wizened features. The thought caused her eyes to prickle with tears as she hurried to push away those memories. She thought it funny that his passing felt so long ago, her life now a whirlwind of change. She always had an aversion to life's transformation, and the sudden realization of all that had recently occurred in her idyll life made her throat constrict with self pity. Her ears once again picked up Makarov's words—soft and quick as he informed his grandson of his intentions. Adie glanced at the blonde man from the corner of her eye. The revelation that he was Barsky's own flesh and blood made her heart race with some semblance of familiarity. The features were faint, but there was a bit of him in Laxus, she was sure of it. That alone gave her an urge to fight—if only to protect the one thing left of the man she had considered her father after the death of Daylon. She knew Laxus was growing uncomfortable with her dissecting gazes, so she limited herself to when he was not looking. He didn't understand why she couldn't tear her eyes from his face, and they lacked the time to really discuss the matter. She forged ahead of the group, the hair on the back her neck raising in eerie premonition as Makarov's intentions were plotted out.

"This...Fairy Law," she faltered, repeating the alien words he had only recently spoken to Laxus—who now seemed somewhat discontented. Adie's brow furrowed as she fought to recall the significance in his words though Laxus seemed to grasp exactly what was necessary, the sweat shining on his brow in confirmation. Her gaze flickered to the doorway as she hesitated, eyes lingering on the shadows as she spoke to the wizard. "What does it...do?"

"Eh? Do, my dear?" Makarov replied as he hobbled on the makeshift crutch Porlyusica had created, the latter's lips pressed together so tightly that they were white. She stared at the floor as Makarov spoke. If he sensed what she was feeling, he showed no sign of it. He was always one step ahead of everyone and her thoughts were of no consequence to him.

"It kills the enemies of Fairy Tail," Laxus answered immediately, his tone somewhat clipped as he clenched his fists. She had a vague feeling that he, too, disagreed with Makarov's plan. She quietly contemplated what his strength must be. He was broad shouldered enough for brute physical strength, but she had a feeling his true abilities were concentrated elsewhere.

"Kills?" Adie fought to control the rising panic she felt as his words rolled off her tongue.

"Only those strong enough to use it can cast it effectively," Laxus stared at the floor, a bead of sweat streaking past his chin as he—and likely Makarov and Porlyusica-recalled his foolish attempt to assert his dominance over the guild. Of course Adie wouldn't know that, but he still avoided her curious stare. Perhaps if she looked long enough, she would see how frail he truly was...

"Explain," Adie demanded, watching him carefully as she swallowed against the rising bile in her throat. Pale eyes flitted to Makarov and the pink-haired mage before settling on the young man once again. Looking at him made her feel so much at ease. She had never met him, nor heard much about him, and was curious as to why the Guild Master's grandson was not a bigger presence in her short time at Fairy Tail.

"It's not about strength," Porlyusica sighed as she narrowed her eyes at Laxus, a silence hanging over them for a few seconds, "It's about intent. You simply used it against people who were not against what you were protecting. Truly protecting." The last part was spoken slowly and more softly. Laxus looked up, eyes widening momentarily before his face became unreadable once again. Porlyusica's lips twitched, a hint of a sneer on them. "Deep down, you all cared about the same thing, making the spell a moot point." Again, a look of bewilderment crossed the blonde man's face as Adie eyed the trio with tentative confusion. Something was passing amongst them that she didn't quite grasp. Or have time for.

She cleared her throat as she watched Laxus blink furiously while he stared at the ground once more. "How does it...the spell, er, decide who's an enemy?" Who to kill? she wanted to ask.

"The spell destroys those whose hearts are devout to destroying the inherent good of the guild," Makarov carefully answered, casting a brief glance toward Porlyusica. The pink-haired mage nodded almost imperceptibly, crimson eyes darting to the doorway.

Ignoring the exchange, Adie pressed on. "What if someone isn't aware of her—their—intentions...if they are being forced to believe otherwise?" She held Porlyusica's gaze, knowing the woman was able to infer her true meaning.

"I'm not sure," Makarov admitted with a shrug. Adie wanted to scream in frustration. It would seem she needed to accomplish much before he used that spell—a daunting task with so very little time. How would she stall?

"Adassandra," Porlyusica's crimson eyes were piercing her crumbling visage, "This is war. We all lose someone and we have all lost someone to nameless battles and stupid indiscretions."

"It's not her fault," Adie suddenly whispered as confusion flickered across Laxus' face. He was the one now lost to the unshared significance of the conversation, "You know that."

"It never is," Porlyusica snapped, quickly gathering herself as her gaze narrowed in slight anger. "You have to accept that we all chose our paths, and sometimes where it leads us is not always to happiness."

Adie was quiet for a few moments, her words carefully chosen, "I know that...but...I just need time. This is not who she is."

Makarov was watching her closely, sensing her sorrow. He, too, knew what it was like to lose someone to the darkness within. "I am losing my family, too, Adassandra. But I can't allow my children to suffer from what my generation did not quash. I will do what I must to protect them. If it is by giving my life...then so be it."

Laxus appeared to be completely at a loss, his confusion mounting with each cryptic exchange. He had missed much these past months. Adie wiped away a silent tear, her fists clenched as she glared at the ground. She looked frail and pitiful. He couldn't help but feel sorry for her.

"At least allow me time to join the others. To help." To help what my foolish sister brought upon us all.

"Didn't you hear—" Porlyusica hissed in frustration, though mostly due to her concern for Makarov's health. Their relationship had always been a point of speculation for everyone that knew them, but no matter the status, it was evident that the two older mages cared for one another.

Makarov held up his hand to silence Porlyusica's ensuing tirade—her mouth snapping shut quickly as she angrily glared at the entrance to the hall. "Porly...You know I am a big softie at heart," his eyes were on Adie as he spoke, "They would not want me to be so callous to her. They know what they are fighting for and who they are fighting with." A wave of relief washed over Adassandra, her gratitude quickly stripped as he continued, "But, I will not see the end of my guild. Not this way, Adassandra." His voice was gentle but firm. "There is always still time. Use it wisely."

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with muted appreciation. The words choked in her throat. "Thank you."

She cast one last look to Laxus, as if her eyes were drinking up the remaining remnant of her foster father. He would never understand that, of course, and there was no time for relay her thoughts. Laxus remained silent, recognizing that much had come to pass since he had been to the guild. Since he had been home.

"You know that there is—" she began, quickly changing the subject to the presence she had noticed moments earlier.

"I do," Makarov nodded, his eyes twinkling with his former mischief, "So get going before I have to spank you."

Porlyusica muffled a cry of indignation and Adie muttered a "old pervert" before disappearing in a blur of fabric-a move that caused Laxus to step back, startled.

"What the hell?" he grunted, "Did she just fly out of here?"

"Technically, no," Makarov chuckled, tugging at his mustache, his eyes quickly darkening. "She has a lifetime of priceless relics, I suspect."

Porlyusica stiffened, a flicker of her wrist causing the crutch under Makarov's arm to dislodge and launch itself across the room. In the shadows, it connected with something solid—the sound of released air alarming Laxus, who leaped in front of Makarov, protectively. He was somewhat embarrassed that he hadn't known there was someone listening to their exchange. With a sneer of triumph, Porlyusica stepped toward the shadows, with an agility that belied her age. Her fist disappeared, and the cry of pain told Laxus she had connected with her intended target. The woman quickly retrieved Makarov's crutch as she muttered a few obscenities, handing it back to its owner. She stood wordlessly by the two men, her eyes staring forward and her chin raised in disdain. Laxus did little to hide his smirk as she glided toward them. He knew she could be ruthless if she so was prepared to fight, and nearly choked as Porlyusica's target—a man—stumbled forward from the shadows. He was disheveled, his dark hair a messy nest on his head. His beard was unshaven and uneven, the dark bags under his eyes telling of his sleepless nights. The man used his wide fingers to wipe at the spittle and blood collecting at the corner of his mouth. A cruel smile spread his face, white teeth and pointed incisors providing a stark contrast to his black beard with its gray-tinged strands.

The man straightened authoritatively, his dark eyes darting over the trio with an all-too-familiar air of arrogance that made Laxus want to withdraw in shame. For a moment, they stood like that: three staring at one with one refusing to cower. Finally, it was the tall man who spoke first.

"I didn't expect that. But, you still hit like the best of them, Porlyusica-chan."

Erza walked around the battlefield surveying the damage, her lips pressed together in consternation. Her right eye was swollen; there was an angry cut on her brow and dried blood caked in the recess under her eye. She waved Wendy away, the young mage likely wearied from the overwhelming need to heal so early in the day.

"There are others with more serious injuries, this," she pointed to her eye, "I can deal with."

The high-pitched startled cry from Wendy caught her by surprise, and she quickly glanced around the area. Other healers were fluttering about, their only duty to fix what was broken. She spied a dark-haired dragon slayer meters away. Then another...

Lucy, you have grown, she inwardly smiled as she found the blonde and her blue-haired friend huddled, Lucy tapping her chin in silent frustration. Erza's eyes darted around to the rest of her friends. Mira was unwrapping a blood-soaked bandage from her brother, her brow furrowed with concern as they inspected the newly healed cut. Elfman was pale from loss of blood. It had been a close call—an injury much too close to the vital artery coursing though his upper arm. A thin, wearied mage appeared, holding out a pale pink pill, his lips moving quickly and yet very little emerging from them. Mirajane's eyes flickered from the pill to her brother, a look of skepticism on her face. Erza recognized the proffered item.

Blood pills, she reminded herself. A nice little trick that healers have on hand. Much more expensive if you go purchasing the tiny vital supplies from the nook and cranny shops in Fairy Tail. She was certain the look of disdain on the wiry healer's face was more due to the financial loss he suffered by handing out his invaluable cargo, though even he must have recognized the overall value of his sacrifice.

Erza's fingers gingerly traced over her brow bone, a move that caused her to wince from the pain. She suspected she had an orbital fracture—as she had one of those in the past. Jellal had done so...when he was possessed by Ultear's creation.

Jellal...

She glanced at the sky. It was late in the afternoon, by the looks of it. She felt her heart ache as the familiar closeness she shared with her childhood friend beat in her chest. He was near, but she wasn't sure just how near he truly was. She felt her throat go dry and her eyes prickle with tears as she imagined how their fateful reunion would play out. Deep in the caverns of her heart she had always hoped that his inner goodness would prevail. That he would show the world his atonement. That he would show her heart that it was never truly wrong about him...

The bustle of mages near her drew her girlish whims back to the harsh cold reality of war. She smelled something fresh and metallic, her eyes skimming over the decaying carcasses of the over-sized birds that had accosted them. It was unexpected—the entire debacle was, really—but not entirely to be overlooked. She glanced at the horizon, the tall bluffs glowing orange in the late afternoon sun. A bead of sweat dripped into her eye, giving it a hazy crimson glow.

"Sixteen! You're a liar, man!" she heard Gray growl under his breath.

Natsu crossed his arms over his chest, "That's my final count. I figured you'd be a crybaby about it." He cast a few glances Lucy's way, and Erza knew it was taking every ounce of self-restraint to not go to her side. Happy, however, had no qualms about eavesdropping on Levy and Lucy's conversation.

"Son of a bitch—" Gray hissed, his arm swinging with the intent to harm as his pink-haired friend leered in victory.

Erza sighed, stepping between them, Gray's knuckles striking the flat of her sword. He cursed violently as Natsu laughed. Erza responded with a punch to the dragon slayer's trachea. Natsu's eyes bulged from his head as he dropped to his knees, fingers clutched around his neck. Gray laughed in a maniacal way, his bruised knuckles a mere memory.

"Don't you two ever learn?" Erza sighed in exasperation.

"Hmph," Gray exhaled, a smirk on his face.

She turned to examine the scene. "Natsu was four, Gray was five, by my count," she informed them, her arms crossed over her chest as she glanced back at the bluffs. "And I slaughtered ten myself."

"No way!" both men protested at the same time.

"See? You two can agree on something," she shook her head. Her eyes passed over the Wisterians. They, at least, seemed to be nearly unscathed. Their stamina was impressive, and their skill with weapons impeccable. She couldn't help feeling a connection with the group. Something the Mayor had said earlier was still clawing at the back of her mind...

She shook the thought away, her attention back to being divided amongst the fatigued and injured. She could see their morale cracking after only the first attack. She knew it was no way to face off with the enemy. She grabbed a nearby mage—a potions expert.

"Got any elixirs for longevity or endurance?" she asked under her breath. "Courage or hope, even!"

The short, squat man nodded, his bulbous nose shining with sweat. "A revitalizin' potion, Miss Erza," he coughed, reaching into his bag and pulling out a large flask—much larger than his bag. Erza eyed both articles, trying to piece together how the stunt was feasible.

He grinned, bare gums filling his mouth as he shook the flask before removing the cork, "Space magic, Store as much as I wanna, only need ta call for wha I'm pickin' and..." He sniffed the pale purple smoke that crept up from the flask.

"But that magic is only limited to that bag?" she asked, her own nostrils catching hold of the potion's sweet aroma. Her eyes burned a little less.

"Tha's right," he mused, tipping the potion and pouring a perfect drop onto his tongue. He wiped his mouth, "Only one drop oughta do it." He handed the bottle to her. She hesitated, before following his lead. Her eyes grew wide with the distinct change she felt within herself. He chuckled.

"Tha's permanent, too," he nodded, "Well, at least 'til ya wear yoself down 'gain."

Erza inspected the bottle before handing it back to him, "Got enough for everyone?"

"Plenty ta be had," he agreed.

"Good, pass it around."

"Aye aye," the bulky man with the red bulbous nose instructed the person next to him to take one drop and pass it along. Erza watched the surprise on each person's face as they instantly felt revived. It wouldn't heal injuries, but it would boost morale.

"Thank you, er-" she began, feeling awkward that she did not know his name.

"Hyde," he bowed.

She murmured his name, then another thanks as she watched the mages regain a little of their earlier zest. When she was satisfied with the change, she immediately addressed them, not wanting to waste another moment. She quickly looked around for the mage who had provided Amplification Magic, her eyes catching the familiar brightly colored scarf in the bodies of the deceased. She averted her eyes, clearing her throat and raising her voice more. She could hear her comrades quieting those around her if only to hear Erza's voice.

"We were caught unawares." She had to give her troops motivation. She had to raise morale. "That can only happen once. Which means we will be ready for them when they come again. And they will come again."

Her eyes avoided the pile of casualties in case she recognized any of her friends. They had already lost nearly a sixth of their forces from the first wave of attacks. Dark piles of feathers spoke volumes for their unlucky enemy.

"We can do it!" she yelled exuberantly, throwing her fist in the air.

Others were now adding: "Erza will lead us!" People started to rally; Erza's name becoming a chant on their lips. Even the Wisterians were joining in, renewed.

"Rest now, and Wendy and the other will heal the injured." Wendy nodded at Erza. "We must be ready for this next attack, or we'll never withstand until we can stop the one behind these attacks. Zeref must not be freed!"

"Erza-san," Jura gruffly called out, easily striding over amongst the cries of Erza's name. "We have to plan for the next attack. I've had too many casualties, much unexpected." His eyes slid to the Death Corner, as his squadron had dubbed it.

Second wave, she mused, her heart sinking at that thought. More enemies meant more deaths. She looked around, uncertain if she could handle that commitment. After a moment, she pushed the thoughts away, nodding and waving for Mirajane to join them. The guild master's clothes were tattered to the point where they were nearly indecent.

Lucy was watching the exchange carefully, unable to hear most of what they were whispering. A few other mages approached, mostly assigned leaders of the various groupings. Erza was now using a stick to draw in the dirt. She caught Natsu's glance from the corner of her eye, and she averted her own gaze, feeling guilty for spying. She welcomed the distraction on the bluffs, the flickering shimmers of sunlight glinting off of...armor? Lucy wondered why Erza thought they needed forces on those rocks. Lookout perhaps? She never mentioned it.

In studying the expansive geography surrounding them, Lucy suddenly felt very weak in it all. They were ants marching in the sand. Her stomach twisted as she reiterated her plan with Levy in her mind. First, free the spirits from their captor. She needed to stop whomever was placing those horrid restricting chokers on the celestial beings, and as quickly as possible. Then she could individually free each spirit with the runes Levy had discovered. She was grateful for the resourcefulness of her blue-haired friend.

"I wonder how Master is doing," Natsu grunted to Gray from somewhere to Lucy's right, his voice barely audible.

Gray said nothing, his eyes on Erza's diagram—which Jura was adding his own machinations to. Happy and Charle circled around, now dedicated to being lookouts for the troops—the female Eksheed feeling guilty that she was incapable of deciphering her own visions. Lucy noticed that she kept glancing at where Levy and Lucy were standing, her expression devoid of any tell-tale sign of what she was thinking.

In the distance, Wendy was nervously shifting on her feet, her eyes filled with tears as she glanced at the pile of bodies that were once their living, breathing comrades. Ones she had been unable to save.

"This is a total mess," Erigor murmured to her, his eyes leaving out any signs of fear—fear that clawed at her abdomen. Wendy jumped at his voice. "You remember what I showed you in training? Are you prepared to use it?"

Wendy stared at the bodies, nodding her head curtly. She clenched her fists in resolution as her mind drifted back to their rigorous hours of training. She had welcomed his instruction on attack magic, despite never having harmed another person in her life. Her magic was meant to heal. Right now, harming another would help her friends. They were in a war.

"I am," she whispered, her eyes darting away. "You're hurt!" He flexed his fingers, pulling the dressing more tightly on his hand. "Here, let me-" the pulsating magic flickered from her fingertips to his hand as he watched her intently, saying nothing.

As she worked, he murmured, "Whatever is waiting for us will only provide more difficulty. You will not be able to keep healing at this rate. Even with the potion maker's creations."

Wendy said nothing, her eyes narrowing in concentration. She was not going to allow any more deaths, she silently promised herself, despite her mentor's words.

Erza and Jura were disagreeing on a plan of action. Gray shifted uncomfortably as he avoided the pile of bodies, now hidden by the smoke from the dead avian creatures. He had seen Joey among them, and it brought a chill to his skin. He shook the nausea away, looking skyward as his thoughts went to his friend. "Lyon..."

"He was a good friend and mage," Natsu attempted to ease his pain, knowing all too well the devastation the loss of close one felt like. He shielded his eyes, wondering why Gildarts hadn't made an appearance. "He's got to be somewhere over there," he murmured to himself, "That's him! Looking pretty sore with Cana right now."

"I didn't know that bastard was still alive," Gray grimly smiled, welcoming the distraction. "I thought I saw him using those oversized crows as projectiles to bring down others. Show off." He sounded somewhat disappointed he hadn't thought of that, not that he could muster the strength.

"She doesn't have much up her sleeve, it seems. Just an army. It almost seems as if she is only toying with us." Lucy heard Jura mutter to Erza, her attention drawn from the cliffs. Charle swooped down and whispered in Erza's ear. She angled her head to listen to the Eksheed, her eyes widening slightly as she whirled around in a blur of scarlet.

"Shit," Erza muttered under her breath, "Are you sure?" Her eyes were narrowed against the hovering sun.

"I-I think so," Charle admitted, looking away in shame.

"I trust you," the woman admitted. "Cyclope!"

Lucy and the others passed glances around as a lumbering, bald-headed figure emerged from the crowd. He stood about two heads taller than Jura, his gray skin thick and leathery. He leaned down as Erza swiftly spoke, nodding and raising both hands, forming a triangle in front of his face. For a few moments, no one said anything as Erza peered over the man's shoulder. She quickly drew back, her face more pale—or so Lucy thought. Jura began to retreat after a few sharp remarks, the remainder of the leaders falling into place.

The realization that something was about to happen made Lucy's stomach knot. She nearly gasped as she saw the tall mage—Cyclope—retreat into the crowd after a confirmatory nod to Erza. The single eye startled her in its pale yellow glory, likely the source behind his magic. Whatever he had seen, Erza had seen. And she had an inkling that it was not welcomed news.

"Um..." Lucy's voice shook as she turned to find Levy, the spindly-legged mage off in the distance, reading as quickly as she could, her glasses hanging off the bridge of her nose as she furiously scanned the pages under her fingers.

The large braying roar caused Lucy's head to snap to where Erza was staring, quickly morphing into her Heavenly Wheel armor. The Mayor of Wisteria was shouting furtive commands as Lucy's heart stopped in her throat. Her vision was not as astute without magic enhancement, but she was willing to bet that the now-present specks on the bluffs were bodies.

Enemy bodies.

The second wave of battle hadn't just sneaked up on them. It had been staring them in the face the entire time.

"W-What are th-th-those?" Lucy whispered, tripping over her feet as she subconsciously began to retreat. The cold realization of the death and fear surrounding her was becoming an overwhelmingly heavy blanket. The crushing weight on her chest and fluttering panic within her throat was becoming too much for her. She suddenly missed the peaceful fun-filled days that had been her life only months earlier.

Her life before Adie had come into it.

She briefly thought of the demi-spirit, her mind torn away from its wanderings by the grotesque roars from the crags. Did she have it in her to hate the woman simply because it was her sister that helped bring this all to fruition? Lucy knew all too well that when evil wanted to rear its head, it would do so at any and all costs.

No, Adie hadn't ruined Lucy's once carefree life. Ultear had.

Ultear and her puppets, Lucy was sure of it. Adie's firm refusal to believe that her own sister willingly allowed herself to wreak this much havoc gave direction to Lucy's own beliefs. The demi-spirit wasn't blind; she knew her sister better than any of them. Despite that, Adie was also capable of doing what was necessary of her to restore safety to humans and spirits alike. Or so Lucy hoped.

She fell backward, her palms slamming into the ground with a force that jolted up her arms and made her teeth rattle. She cried out in pain, biting her tongue and filling her mouth with blood. A strong arm helped her back to her feet. She didn't turn around, too afraid to let whoever it was see the tears in her eyes. The realization of their situation was too much, and her throat constricted in fear.

They had been tricked. That much was certain. She was only now piecing it together. It had all been an illusion. They had been allowed to gallivant past the enemy, and through the bluffs. Their retreat was now impossible; the enemy had the advantage. The overwhelming despair was nauseating.

Lucy had seen panic in Erza's eyes, and devastation in Charle's. The Eksheed felt most at fault, as it was her vision that had led them.

"I don't know," Natsu murmured from beside her, his eyes narrowed as he stared ahead. She had a feeling he was her nameless aid from a few minutes ago. He didn't meet her teary glance, instead focusing on the bluffs, his jaw clenched. "They look like the others...from before...but their smell..."

Lucy turned her focus on the creatures, as well, her vision not as sharp as a dragon slayer's heightened sense. The movement on the rocky walls was fluid, like water rippling in the light. There were dozens, if not hundreds of the beasts, from what she could deduce.

"Rock goblins," Levy interrupted, faithfully appearing on Natsu's other side. "Charle gave me a description, and I quickly tried to find any information about them. They rely on their senses to guide them, as they are blind and live in complete darkness."

"Great," Lucy croaked, her mouth impossibly dry. She heard Natsu crack his knuckles in the all-too-familiar move of impatience.

"I was gettin' kinda bored," Gray added from somewhere to her left.

"What is wrong with you two?" her voice was high-pitched and warbling. She was too afraid to meet their gaze, her fear making her feel extremely labile.

"Don't give up yet, Luce," Natsu told her, staring ahead as he squinted his eyes. "I take that back, these are much uglier than before. Large foreheads and sharp teeth—"

"You're not helping!" Lucy squeaked, her hands and feet suddenly feeling numb. She wanted to vomit.

They could not retreat. No matter how much she wished otherwise. Lucy's thoughts went to Magnolia, where Porlyusica, Makarov and Adie were, currently. She hoped they were safe. Hopefully they, at least, were concocting a sound plan to save the battling mages.

So many...already, Lucy thought in defeat, the picture in front of her becoming more crisp. She could see the pale gray bodies easily climbing amongst the crags, like bugs on hot rocks. More of Lilith's army, no doubt. Were they endless?

Stop it! Pull yourself together! She squeezed her eyes shut, attempting to drone out the shouts from around her. Somewhere, in the distance she could hear Erza commanding them to maintain their positions. She knew that Wisteria was at the forefront, and Lucy had no doubt that it would be difficult for the enemy to pass them. They were bred for battle, or so she was informed.

"I hope you don't think you're going to kill more bad guys than me," Natsu grunted to Gray, his former blood-lust returning.

Lucy's eyes snapped open. How could he be so nonchalant at a time like this? They had been lured, and it had worked! She could barely contain the bile rising in her throat. The enemy was slowly trickling through the wide gaping expanse between the bluffs, Fairy Tail's army cut off from the only home they knew.

Lucy looked at Natsu, his unwillingness to accept any chance of defeat slowly calming her. She couldn't explain the phenomenon, but whatever it was, he was responsible for it. Maybe it was merely his presence that she needed. It was rejuvenating. She reached out and grabbed his arm, he stared at her fingers, confused by the sudden gesture.

"Thank you," she whispered quickly, a thin veil of tears lining her eyes. Natsu's eyes widened momentarily, and Lucy smiled, a fleeting sense of nostalgia washing over her. Brief flashes of her time at Fairy Tail filled her mind, and an eerie calmness overtook her. "You have given me so many good memories."

He covered her hand with his own, smiling toothily and nodding before his eyes flickered back to the cliffs. His fingers traced over hers before he pulled away. He glanced skyward, as if checking for more hideous winged creatures. She thought she saw a tear in his eyes. When he looked back at her, it was gone.

No, Natsu wasn't getting emotional. He was ready for war.

"Don't talk like that, Luce!" he attempted to put on a look of offense. "The fun's about to begin." A sharp incisor stuck out awkwardly as he grinned. Lucy couldn't help but laugh.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" Lucy wiped away a few stray tears, her voice wavering.

"I concur," Gray added, his eyes searching for Juvia. He hadn't seen her since the first attack, and refused to believe her body amongst the dead. He wouldn't admit it, but he found their days of training to be a source of happiness for him. He had always considered Juvia to be annoying, but she had changed over the past few months. She was no longer the fawning water mage he had remembered. She had become more confident and independent over the time they had been absent. Her general disinterest in Gray was met with a feeling of abandonment that he hadn't known since Ur's death.

"Yup, you've been telling me that for a year, at least," Natsu informed her as Happy softly landed beside them. "Any ideas, buddy?" he turned to his blue friend.

"Nope," Happy admitted, chewing on his bottom lip.

The smell of charred wood from Christina reached their nostrils as the winds changed direction. She glanced at the now smoking wreck.

"Smells like wood," Natsu told her, following her gaze, "Just wood." She met his eyes, her brow knit in comprehension. She glanced toward where Gray was standing, but he had sprinted off into the ranks after a quick word of departure and a promise to return. She thought she heard Juvia's name escape his lips.

Her former suspicions quickly returned as she glanced back to Natsu. She had suspected as much. The ship had crashed too easily. "You don't mean—"

Another horrible scream interrupted their would-be conversation. Her realization didn't matter. The time had come to fight.

Armor was glinting in the daylight, and weapons were being readied in anticipation. Natsu was beside Erza, unwillingly leaving Lucy's side at her own prompting. Levy was back to reading how to destroy the monsters. Lucy studied the steady movement coming from the bluffs, the large crags of rock split apart by the canyon the allied army had spanned. Something, long ago, had created that rock formation...

Her next thought came to her freely, a wisp of an idea talking flight.

Virgo.

"Mistress?" Lucy heard a soft murmur from behind her, the shackles around the spirit's wrists clinking with the familiar bow. She could almost see the dramatic bending at the hips; Virgo's pink hair swooping in her face as she respectfully awaited her mistresses' command.

"Please," Lucy readied her plan, her heart fluttering with anticipation as her eyes remained ahead. She heard the spirit snap upright, "Do not stand behind me."

"Princess?" Virgo's voice rose ever-so-slightly, the confusion buried in her address.

"Here," Lucy gestured with a flick of her wrist. "Stand here, please."

She saw Virgo's form flicker tentatively into her periphery. She could see the spirit apprehensively studying the grotesque monsters filtering through the bluffs, the late afternoon sun highlighting her face. "I-I don't understand, Princess."

Lucy's lips parted slightly as she attempted to remain calm, "Virgo, you are to never stand behind me again. Ever." Virgo remained silent, confused, stunned, amused—Lucy had no idea.

"Mis—" Virgo implored.

"You are my friend, and therefore you should stand nextto me. Never behind," Lucy stared ahead, her jaw clenched in affirmation.

She heard the spirit's sharp intake of breath, "Princess—"

"Lucy."

"I c-can't!" Virgo shook her head vigorously. "It's not right!"

"Lucy," Lucy insisted more sternly. "My name. No more titles." She turned to look at the spirit, her chestnut eyes serious. "I know you served my mother, and that she entrusted Etoiles in your possession in case I was in need. Or, at least, Capricorn had."

The spirit remained silent, her eyes wide. Lucy continued, "I know that he respected my mother very much, but I am not my mother. I am only a person, and titles do not mean much when we are in battle and very much facing death." She sucked in a deep breath, the blood pounding through her veins, "So please, I'd be honored if you'd just call me by my first name—"

"Lucy!" Virgo wailed, tears streaming down her face as she fell to her knees.

A small smile of triumph escaped her lips as the blonde rested a hand on the Celestial Spirit's shoulder, "There, that wasn't so hard was it?"

Virgo sobbed, casting a look of uncertainty at Lucy. "W-Why?"

"That's easy," Lucy explained simply. "You are not a weapon. You are a person...a being. You have a heart and feelings. And you have been someone I can depend on—you have been a friend, Virgo. Now please," she grabbed the spirit under her elbow, "Stand up!"

Virgo wiped her eyes and softly hiccuped. With a air of frustration, Lucy quickly grabbed Virgo's wrists, crying out as she wrenched the shackles from the spirit's arms.

"What—?" Virgo stared incredulously at her slender wrists, her fingers softly tracing over the newly exposed skin.

"There! Now you are totally free! You are not an item to be owned, Virgo!" Lucy insisted, kicking the shackles for good measure. Virgo watched, completely stunned. For the first time in her spirit life, she felt respected and revered. Her eyes raised to meet Lucy's, their depths now filled with pride and awe.

"If only your Miss Layla could see you now," she murmured with a small smile. Another cry caused Virgo's head to snap toward the enemy, her eyes wordlessly narrowing as she studied the monsters. With a sharp intake of breath, she spun to face Lucy. "You have an idea? That's why I am here?"

"I was hoping you'd help," Lucy nodded, her lips pursed. "I'm not sure it's going to work."

"Do share, I'm sure I can help!" the spirit's brow furrowed.

"Total demolition?"

"Both of them?" Virgo's eyes gleamed mischievously, as she inferred the meaning of Lucy's words.

"If that wouldn't be too much trouble..." the blonde cast a pleading look.

Virgo chuckled—the first laugh Lucy had ever heard from her. "Not at a bother at all, Lucy...not for...a friend. And not for me."

Two pairs of eyes met, a silent understanding and gratefulness passing amongst them. Lucy had never felt so free, and Virgo had never felt so loved. With a quick smile, the spirit nimbly dove into the ground, disappearing from sight. Lucy said a silent prayer that her plan worked, or, at least, it would buy them time.

~OoOoO~

Yes, I'm still alive. Yes, I'm still writing this story. My intention is/and will be to complete this story. Good news is that I have much more written, so time between chapters should be substantially less.

My time has been an extreme minimum. In the past few months, someone very close to me was unexpectedly diagnosed with cancer. I took time off of work and flew half the country away to spend his last days with him. Death is always hard to face, for everyone involved and the aftermath is devastating. Good people leave large voids.

Normally I'd apologize for the delay, but for this, I will not. He was worth every moment I spent with him.

I'm adjusting to life now that it's incredibly bleak. And in that adjustment I can finally go back to the things I enjoy (i.e. writing), no matter that I may not be entirely gifted at it. It makes me happy. Anyhow, if anyone is feeling particularly douchebag-ish, go elsewhere, thankyouverymuch.

Thank you very much for reading, for being patient, and for the encouragement. There will be more action to come. Trust me on that.