Thank you for all the lovely reviews! This story has become epic and the encouragement is amazing, you are all wonderful and I appreciate every one of the readers and reviewers. I know it's an extra step to leave feedback and I am truly grateful for the opportunity to write and hear from all of you. Much thanks to my anonymous reviewers as well, since I can't very well respond to your reviews :)

I do recognize there are editing errors throughout, and that is solely my fault. Some of it is formatting that occurs when uploading, but most is just that I missed it. When I'm all done, I'll go back and clean it up. But I do try to fix anything glaring.

Happy Reading! Please read and review, it's my writing food :)

I don't own FT, only claim cred for the OCs and extensive plot thought.

~OoOoO~

"Almost there," Gajeel muttered to himself, quietly urging his body to continue its trek.

He retched again, but there was nothing left for his stomach to empty. Each breath burned his lungs as they had never burned before. He had been running for hours and his legs were weak and wobbly, an experience he was not accustomed to. His eyes scanned the boulders—hadn't that been two large cliffs before? He could see smoke billowing into the sky, creating a dark cloud of doom over the plains. Death hung in his nostrils, and he loathed the stench. His mind raced with thoughts about Levy and the danger on the battlefield. He could protect her if he was there.

If only….

"Need help?" she asked curtly, leaning over to peer at him, hands on her hips.

Startled, he fell backward with a yell of outrage. He met her eyes, and the pale irises startled him. It took him a moment to recognize her. She was much thinner than he recalled, her skin pale and her habitus sickly. Her eyes were an icy blue and her hair nearly white; he faintly recalled finding her somewhat attractive when she was plumper. He had never been one for blondes anyhow…

"We're close and you're tired. You look like shit," the newcomer bluntly pointed out, ignoring the fact that he had yet to answer her first question. She drew back, staring at him down the bridge of her nose. He could practically feel the distaste pouring out of her. She smelled odd to him, but he couldn't quite place it. Her attention flickered to the soft boots on her feet.

"Eh, I'm fine. Just taking a break," he glumly countered, waving his hand and swallowing the sour taste in his mouth. His throat was so dry that he would kill for a drink.

"Let me help you. Don't waste all your energy before you get there," she grunted, glancing over her shoulder at the cliffs. Her gaze became distant, and she quickly shivered and shook herself out it. "You won't be any help to her if you arrive in piss poor shape."

He said nothing, the hairs on the back of his neck bristling at her words. She was right, he knew, but his heart was telling him to keep running. And who was she to read into his intentions?

Cool it, he inwardly warned himself. It had been an exhausting few weeks, and the strain was finally wearing on him. He had made a promise to Levy and hadn't been able to prove that he had kept it. He had been a spy for Makarov for some time now, and hadn't been able to tell anyone, even her. He had been so close—so damn close! Of course he had been close to many things with the petite scholar: kissing her, touching her, giving in to what he would call his emotions…

Finally, he sighed in defeat, "What's your plan, girl?"

Adassandra looked at him, raising an eyebrow with mild amusement and a hint of warning. He felt his jaw clench at the memory of her fist breaking his molar. His tongue slid over the crevice she had created, and he looked away. Levy liked this woman, so he'd be kind. He wordlessly attempted to stand, but his legs gave out, and he collapsed from the effort, his face flaming in shame.

A hand shot out, and a round, metal object clasped between her fingers. "Here. Drink. Slowly."

"You have a way with words," he shot back bitterly. His mouth attempted to water at the thought of what might be in the canteen, but he was too dehydrated.

She pulled her arm back, taking the offering with it. He quickly reached out and grabbed it, mouthing no. With a quick twist of his fingers, the lid was free and rolling on the ground, and he was lapping at the water.

"I said slowly, ass! You'll puke again!" she hissed at him, her open palm hitting him in the back of his head. He was too ecstatic to care, the cool liquid running down this throat was heavenly "Don't you listen to anything?"

"You're in good spirits," he grumbled, water dribbling from the corner of his mouth. "Got food, too?"

She eyed him, a flicker of annoyance on her countenance, and she handed him an apple. He eagerly snatched it from her grip and shoved the entire fruit in his mouth and scarcely chewed. "More?"

She shook her head. He lifted the canteen, letting the cool fluid drip on his tongue as his thirst was slightly quenched. She nibbled on her own apple as she watched him speculatively. He nearly wondered what she was thinking, but he never understood a woman's mind. That was why he couldn't comprehend what Levy saw in him to begin with. Their first encounter should have surely tainted her opinion of him, yet she had so fervently devoted herself to him.

Women…

"Thanks," he growled, wiping his mouth with a bare forearm. It tasted of dirt and salt. He licked his lips, enjoying the taste.

"Stole it from the guild's kitchen," she guiltily admitted, handing him the rest of her apple, which he devoured without a second thought. In a moment, he was feeling slightly rejuvenated.

"Now what?" he asked her, pushing himself to his feet, somewhat hesitantly. He could stand, but running would be difficult. He stared past her at the rising smoke cloud, his stomach twisting with the anxiety of the unknown. "Any news?"

"Fruit's got something in it, you'll feel better in a few minutes," she informed him, following his gaze after a quick shake of her head. "Makarov, his son, grandson and Porlyusica are on their way."

"Son? Ivan—I'll be dammed, that son of a bitch is going to put his pride away for a damn second," Gajeel whistled, feeling somewhat responsible for the entire debacle. It's how things should be: bygones as bygones.

"Yeah, long time in the making, it seemed. I didn't stay for the emotional aftermath," she spoke softly, eyes on her boots again, "The plan? How about for now, you let me help."

"How—" he began, interrupted as she slung his arm over her shoulder. "No way a woman's going to—"

"—To what?" her voice raised threateningly. "What? Don't like that I might be helping you because you need it? Well, deal with it, jackass! I don't see any way around it. I can leave you in my dust, while I go and fight, dragon slayer."

She was right and he knew it, but his pride hurt so badly. He only wanted to protect Levy, and so far, he was doing a piss poor job of that. He didn't like relying on others, and he didn't like the lack of control he felt over the entire situation.

Adie must have sensed his underlying hesitation, because she spoke much more calmly, "Unless you want me to leave you here with noodle legs and let you crawl your way to save her…..I can do that, too, you know. I don't care about your feelings, but she's a good woman."

Again, the sting of her words lashed at him. He stared at the ground, saying nothing.

She cleared her throat, her voice once again soft as she chuckled slightly, "You don't deserve her."

His mouth snapped shut, mostly because he knew the bitter truth. He had never deserved any woman's attentions, much less someone as kind-hearted and warm as Levy. After a moment, he found his voice. "Ain't that the truth, woman." He looked away, ashamed. "So…then what's your plan, because I obviously ain't got one."

She continued to stare ahead, feeling as if she had said enough. She knew his pride was hurting and she wished she was stronger for what was going to unfold in the very near future. She had to deal with Lilith, and she didn't know what kind of emotional toll it would take on her.

"Now," she told him, her voice soft as she glanced at the sky as if hoping for some sort of guidance. "You hang on. I run."

Lucy and Levy were fighting, their backs pressed together so as not to miss an attack. There were more mages and mercenaries than monsters in this wave of attacks, though Lucy had been sure she spotted an Amarok or two. One was enough, she knew, but the thought terrified her, especially considering that magic was useless against the hounds. She pulled on her whip, feeling the sickeningly satisfying snap of the mage's neck as Levy used sonar-infused words to perforate the eardrums of two nearby enemies. The goblins collapsed, shrieking as the blood pooled from the holes that Lucy decided were their ear canals. Levy's magic managed to drop another nearby mage—a thin thirty-something male with tattoos on his face. He puked as he attempted to rise to his feet, most likely from the disequilibrium of his perforated eardrums. A nearby ally struck him in the back of his head, quickly knocking the enemy unconscious. He looked up at Lucy and Levy, nodding before he found a new fight.

Lucy heard the man's deep-throated chuckling before she saw him, all the while wondering how she had ever missed him-an obese mage cradling an odd doll as he watched them. A bad feeling formed in the pit of Lucy's stomach, though he looked harmless enough. She had learned not to underestimate anything or anyone—as that always led to the worst surprises. Though, the fat man cradling a straw doll was indeed an odd sight on the battlefield. Perhaps he was not all mentally there and had unfortunately wandered into the midst of battle. Lucy shook the ill-perceived thought from her head.

"Look out, scary bird thing!" Lucy yelled as a crimson-eyed raven swooped down. Levy raised her hands above her head, making her vulnerable to the nearby enemy. The bird clawed at Levy's hair as she batted at it with her fists, her attention diverted from the second attacker.

"No you don't!" Lucy screamed, using the butt end of her whip handle to smash into the enemy's face.

He—no she—screamed at Lucy, murderous eyes filled with rage as she attempted to leap over Levy, finger blazing with magic. Happy swooped down and grabbed the enemy by her cloak, swinging his victim as he flew higher.

"Oops," he muttered as he released the unfortunate mage, leaving her to screech as she fell toward the ground. The sound of her neck snapping and skull shattering on a nearby rock told Lucy that she had died upon impact—a much kinder death than she had planned for Levy, Lucy reminded herself.

Thank you, the blonde woman mouthed to the Eksheed, who nodded before launching himself in another direction.

Levy felt her head for injuries, but found none other than a missing patch of hair. She looked at Lucy, "What the hell was that bird doing?"

Lucy shrugged, but saw the bird land on the large mage's shoulder. She had an eerie feeling about the entire exchange as he whispered something to the raven before it launched into flight yet again. It wasn't an ordinary bird, but not one of Lilith's creatures. She would have to be vigilant when it came to the blackbird, she knew.

The sound of Levy's gasp made Lucy swing around, whip ready and dagger bared. She briefly forgot about the fat mage and his deviant dealings. Her head snapped around as she looked for something—anything—to swing at, but found none.

"I knew it," Levy's voice was shrill as shaking fingertips covered her mouth and tears welled in her eyes. "I knew he'd come."

Lucy followed Levy's gaze, and she immediately knew who her friend was speaking of: Gajeel. He had returned. He looked worse for wear, but he was there and ready to fight. And next to him was Adie. The demi-spirit immediately jumped into action, smashing a rock goblin with an iron-fisted glove. The monster's head bent at an odd angle, and even Gajeel seemed impressed with the display. Lucy smiled, knowing full well that not only had he come to fight, but he had come to protect what was closest to his heart.

"Go," Lucy told her urgently. Levy opened her mouth to argue, her tears streaking her dirty cheeks. Lucy shook her head, smiling grimly, "Go! I'll cover you." Sagittaurus was immediately at her side.

Levy flashed a wide grin of relief, thanking Lucy and every God imaginable as she immediately broke into a sprint filled with newfound vigor. Gajeel's dark eyes were scanning the field.

"Sagittarius, be on guard."

"Aye, Lucy" the spirit nodded, eyes on the scholarly mage. Lucy continued to be vigilant, barely noticing the spirit had spoken her name. She raised her eyebrows in question and he jerked a costumed hoof in Levy's direction. "Your friend…"

Confused, Lucy glanced over to find Levy standing rigid on the battlefield, fingers splayed at her sides. "Levy, I told you I have you covered!" she called through cupped palms.

Levy jerkily turned, eyes wide with terror as they flickered from side to side and her teeth chattered. "I'm n-not doing it-t."

"Huh?" Lucy didn't quite understand.

"I—" Levy choked back a sob. "S-Someone else's m-m-magic. It's moving my limbs without my will."

"Over there," the spirit whispered, nodding behind Lucy. She swung around, her eyes finding the fat mage from before. He was holding the doll before him, as if in mockery of Levy's pose. Suddenly, it hit her.

Oh no, his magic is through that doll!

"Sagittarius, aim for him!" Lucy instructed, fingering the offending mage. "With all you got. Take him down without question."

"Right, Lucy!" the spirit straightened.

Before he could fire an arrow, the large raven from before was upon him, talons clawing at Sagittarius' eyes. He screamed, hands going up to his face as blood coated his cheeks. Lucy stared, horrified and sickened by the spectacle. She didn't know if she released the spirit or if he had left on his own accord, but she was quickly distracted.

"Move, Lucy!" Levy screeched, her limbs setting her in motion with arms outstretched as she broke into an awkward run toward Lucy. "You're the target! Get out of my way!"

She managed to leap out of the way as Levy sped past. The blue-haired mage slid in the dirt, spinning around like a puppet, her arms swinging in the air in front of Lucy. She fisted the space between them, her arms flailing in a windmill-like fashion.

"I-I can't control it!" Levy's tears spilled over as she looked toward Gajeel longingly. Lucy felt her heart was going to beak from their circumstance.

"Fight it! You can do it!" She frantically looked around for someone—anyone—to attack the voodoo-wielding mage to break the spell. She chastised herself for not recognizing the potential of his magic earlier. If she could get rid of his doll…

"Watch out!" Levy cried, catching Lucy unawares.

The two women toppled over, Levy's fingers closing around Lucy's neck. Lucy's eyes bulged from her head as she was being strangled by her closest female friend. Her hands tried to claw Levy's fingers away, but she couldn't. Levy's fingernails dug into her flesh, drawing blood. She gasped for air, the world exploding in fuzzy lights around her as her friend screamed frantically. With some vestige of strength, Lucy managed to hit Levy in the face with an open palm while her mind screamed an apology between the pleas for her life. Levy cried out in exasperation and relief, her grip slackening slightly. Lucy took advantage of it and brought her knee up to her chest, using to pry Levy off of her. The blue-haired mage rolled to the side, jerkily launching to her feet and lunging at Lucy relentlessly. Her eyes were wide with anger and fear.

"Hurt me if you have to, Lu-chan!" Levy screamed, tears streaking her dirt-encrusted face.

Lucy prayed Gajeel would spot them or at least hear their voices. He could stop that fat mage, she knew. Where was Natsu when she needed him? "Gajeel! Gajeel! Over here! Levy's here!"

Levy sobbed as she was forced to grab Lucy's head in both hands, pushing the blonde backwards with the weight of her slender frame. She slammed Lucy's head off of the ground. Once. Twice. Stars exploded in Lucy's periphery as she felt the warm liquid mat her hair to her head.

Levy sobbed hysterically. "Please, Lu-Chan, I c-can't stand it! Stop me! Do whatever it takes!"

Lucy's eyes fluttered open and she brought a fist up and weakly punched her friend in the face. The slamming stopped, and Lucy repeated the move. Her heart sank and nausea washed over her as tears burned her eyes. Again she punched Levy in the face. Levy's body went momentarily limp and Lucy rolled out from under her friend as Levy's hand shot out to grab at her waist. Lucy crawled away, shakily climbing to her feet. She felt the warm stickiness creep down the nape of her neck, and her head suddenly throbbed terribly.

"I'll save you!" Lucy screeched, tears blurring her vision.

The rage from earlier was slowly building inside of her. She looked for the fat mage and his sick trickery, but could not locate him. Again and again she dodged Levy's attacks, which were filled with stamina that only magic could imbibe in the blue-haired mage. She had no doubt that the fat mage was enjoying this; she could feel him sneering with delight.

"You have to incapacitate him, Lu," Levy huffed as she fell from a failed attack, "And you can't very well do that while I'm attacking you." Her voice was clearer. Calmer. Eerily calm, in fact.

"I've accomplished more than that in my life," Lucy risked a smile. The glint of something caught her eye, and her smile quickly faded as she noticed the dagger in Levy's hand. Her fingers reached for her waist—when had Levy snatched it from her belt?

Levy bit her lip, tears welling over again. "I'm so sorry, Lu-chan," she whispered. "We don't have time and I can't bear to hurt you. I only wish I could have thanked him for giving me faith. But, you can do that for me, can't you?"

"NO!" Lucy screamed, lunging at Levy as she used the last ounces of her own energy to resist the spell over her.

Lucy's efforts were not enough, as Levy managed to regain use of her limbs long enough to plunge the blade into her chest. She stared at it for a moment, blinking as if she couldn't believe what she had accomplished. Her arms fell limply to her sides, and she looked at Lucy with a combination of relief and pain. A small smile pulled at her lips as blood pooled at the corner of her mouth.

"Darn it, I didn't even get to say goodbye to him," her eyes glazed over as she fell to her knees, though she managed to mutter: "You're the strongest spirit mage the world has ever seen, you know."

Lucy screamed for Wendy. For Natsu. For Gajeel. She didn't care who was lurking around her, she needed help. Levy's breathing was shallow and her lids heavy. Lucy didn't need a doctor to tell her that the wound was fatal, as was obviously intended. It was the only way she could have freed herself.

"Need help—"

"Lucy?" Gemi and Mini finished each other's sentence.

Lucy didn't look at them, the shock making her fingers numb as she reached for Levy. "Find Wendy. I need her power. It's an emergency!"

"We've used her power recently. We could help you now—" the spirit looked around, obviously unhappy they couldn't see the dragon slayer. "—We think."

With a plop, a version of Wendy was standing before her. Lucy cradled Levy's head, the mage slipping from consciousness. Lucy reached for her dagger with shaky fingers, pulling the blade from her friend's chest. It slid out easily, and she gagged as she did so. Blood frothed and whistled from the mortal wound.

"Thank you," she whispered to Levy, kissing her friend's forehead. "But you're not going to die on me. Not today."

Gemini wasted no time quickly going to work, hands glowing with magic that was not natively theirs. Lucy shivered with anger, her fists clenched and body shaking. Despite their efforts, having Wendy would be of benefit. Gemini could use her power, but did they really understand what they were using it for?

"Lucy, you finally called me!" the spirit chirped, quickly gasping in horror as she spied the scene around her.

"Lyra, I'm sorry to drag you into this, but I need you find a healing mage. Preferably Wendy," Lucy told her.

"That's….the dragon slayer?" she whispered weakly, face pallid.

"Yep."

"I will do that for you," Lyra promised, quickly fluttering away without a look behind her, eyes set with determination.

"Gemini?" Lucy spoke softly, fearing for the worst as she watched them work their magic on Levy.

"We are doing our best, Lucy!" the spirits told her, "She is not dead yet, the wound appears to be healing. But slowly. Very slowly."

Lucy nodded, swallowing the urge to break into hysterics or begin vomiting. Suddenly, she was overcome with hatred. She lowered Levy's head so she could stand. She swung around quickly, worried that resurrecting Levy would only allow the manipulative mage to take advantage of her friend yet again. Lucy knew it was his goal was to pit them against one another: if Levy had killed Lucy, good; if Lucy had killed Levy in self-defense, no love lost. Levy had recognized this goal and removed herself from that equation willingly. That sacrifice drove Lucy insane—they had never stood a chance. The complete lack of regard for life infuriated her.

Her eyes bored into the fat mage, and he was returning her look with one of indifference. It was a gesture that only someone who felt they were infallible could muster at a time such as this. She could barely repress her own sneer. She touched the back of her head, her fingertips sticky with blood. She focused on her target, all others meaningless to her periphery.

"I'm going to kill you. Right here. Right now. You'll pay for what you made her do." It was a promise, never intended to be a threat. She hoped her fury was emanating from her at this point in time.

He must have heard her, because a flick of his wrist sent the large raven flapping toward her for a second time. With a swift whistle, and arrow pierced the bird through its wing. The animal fell to the ground in a flurry of feathers. Suddenly a human form was sprawled before her, arrow protruding from its shoulder. He attempted to push himself up, arm injured and soaked with blood. He ripped the arrow from his shoulder with a sucking noise. The woman wielding the bow quickly used the heavy item as a club, hitting the mage on the head and knocking him unconscious. Or killing him. Lucy found she didn't care, either way. The portly mage's eyes narrowed quickly, and Lucy caught a flash of fear in their depths.

Good.

Lucy met the woman's gaze. The Wisterian mayor's wife. She stood a head taller than Lucy, her limbs lithe despite her age. She smiled grimly, "I will do my best to cover you. Do what you must."

Lucy understood her meaning, and was grateful for the woman's help. "Thank you."

The older woman nodded, grabbing the man by his robe and dragging him with a strength Lucy envied. Soon, she was loosing arrows at any enemy that came remotely close to Lucy and the vicinity. It was obvious she understood Lucy's need to finish this battle herself, without interference.

Lucy grit her teeth, her resolve flaring as the fat mage plucked a long blue hair from the doll. That must be how he controls his victims, using a personal item, she thought. She was going to make him pay. Draco!

Yes, Lucy Heartfilia?

I need you.

Payment?

I have a gaping hole in the back of my head. That's enough blood for you to feast on my magic, no?

The spirit flickered around her head, and she felt a fiery sting at her occiput. He flew around to her front, glowing a neon green before his flame sputtered out. She felt her heart drop in defeat as she wondered if she had misinterpreted the spirit. He had barely drawn blood on their last encounter, telling her he could sense her strength soon afterward.

The loud roar behind her made her eyes grow wide, and she turned her head slightly to see a large scaled beast at her back, tail slapping the ground to her right and coiling around her body protectively. The fat mage was shielded from her line of vision, and she was somewhat disappointed she couldn't see his reaction, as she wanted to savor his fear. The spirit's shiny warmth was rejuvenating, and she looked up to see Draco in his massive form. Myth had it that he was the Guardian Keep for the King—perhaps more of a pet—but his significance not to be denied and his true form fear-invoking, to say the least. His scales quivered and steam lifted from them as his tail thrummed with energy. He stood at least twice Lucy's height, and his length was much more than that.

"Your request? One per blood exchange," he told her, long wisps of dragonbeard hanging from his jaw. His teeth glinted as he spoke. He awaited her command, body tensed and willing.

"The fat one. Kill him," she commanded, eyes blazing ahead as Draco towered over the battlefield. She briefly wondered how much destruction he would cause. She recognized it'd be too much of a danger to her colleagues, but if the need arose….

"Simply delicious," he purred, her ear drums pounding from her proximity to his body.

He quickly uncoiled around her like a viper spotting its prey. The portly mage was slowly backing away, eyes shifting for a means out of his current situation. The mages nearby were at least intelligent enough to know to back away, none brave enough to come to his rescue. With a deadly smirk of satisfaction, Lucy nodded for the dragon to lurch forward.

The mage's face grew pale, and he attempted to turn and run, though he didn't get far. Draco roared magnificently, his body quaking the ground as he launched into action. He rose above the fleeing mage, his jaw unhinging as his head plummeted for the earth. He engulfed the offending mage, his teeth continuing to gnash through the rock as he followed his own trajectory, completely burying himself in the ground. With an uprising of smoke, mage and spirit were gone, and Lucy was left, chest heaving with adrenaline as she stared at the gaping hole. Other mages had stopped to stare, and Lucy heard her name whispered on the field. She managed to catch Nani's eye, her people watching in reverence, some prostrating themselves as they saw their revered idol. Not too far away, Natsu was staring in wide-eyed shock, but Lucy couldn't see that reaction. She also hadn't noticed that he never ventured far from her side.

"Levy? Levy!" came the choked whisper as Gajeel found them, collapsing next to the unconscious mage. His hands pulled her face to his as he buried his nose in her hair. She was pale and barely breathing, the blood now caked around her mouth.

Lucy immediately turned around, attention drawn away from her spirit's destruction. She stood over Gajeel, Gemini, and Levy. The dragon slayer noticed Wendy for the first time, "Wendy, you have save her!"

"It's Gemini," Lucy tried to explain, quickly recognizing Gajeel's look of confusion. She shook her head, "A spirit that can copy a user's ability." He stared, wide-eyed and in shock, his hands cupping Levy's face. Lucy continued: "She tried to save me. I-I…couldn't stop her. So she took matters into her own hands."

Gajeel's shoulders shook, but he said nothing as he continue to stare at Levy in shock. Lucy teetered on the brink of hysterics.

"We aren't good at human anatomy, but we think we fixed what was most broken," Gemini told them in a sing-song voice, startling Gajeel. "Perhaps that will be enough?"

"We need to find Wendy, right? I should find Wendy!" Gajeel croaked, eyes wildly looking around. "I hafta find her."

Lucy reached down, fingertips brushing at Levy's neck. Her skin was cool and pale, but she had a pulse and was breathing shallowly. She was alive, but barely. The hole had closed, but the spirit mage was certain there was internal damage even Gemini couldn't repair. She looked at Gajeel and nodded.

"She waited for you. She believed you would come, and when she saw you, earlier, she was the strongest I had ever seen her. So much so she was able to overcome that mage's spell to release herself," Lucy explained, tears spilling over.

"What mage? Where is he? I'll kill him!" Gajeel was looking around furiously, his expression one of panic and fury.

"I took care of him," Lucy informed him, kissing her fingertips and touching them to Levy's forehead. "Guard her with your life, Gajeel, you got it? She's my best friend. My sister."

"I won't let anyone touch her. If she dies, I die," Gajeel stood, holding a limp Levy to his chest as he cradled her to his body. He looked at Lucy so intensely that she had never felt so certain that he had never meant anything more in his entire life

"Bring her back to us, Gajeel."

Erza wiped the blood from her eyes, her tongue inadvertently darting out and tasting the salty metal of blood and sweat. Not her blood, but someone else's.

She spun around, blocking a blow with her sword. It was the final straw for the weapon, and the metal finally cracked and splintered under the stress. With a howl of frustration, she stabbed into her opponent with the splintered point, catching the female mage in the left armpit. She pulled back quickly, the familiar hiss of a collapsed lung announcing her attack had hit its mark. Blood freely spilled from the wound, and the mage's eye grew wide as she collapsed, her voice choked with fluid.

"I'm sorry," Erza murmured, saying a silent prayer for her latest victim. She threw her broken sword aside with an air of frustration—it had been her favorite weapon.

She briefly wondered if she should summon the one Adie had given her, days earlier. The weapons master had sought Erza out, sword wrapped in satin and screaming for Titania to wield it. She could remember the thrum of familiarity as her hands smoothed over the shiny black steel. Thunderbolt Iron.

"I never mastered it," Adie had shared with her. "It was my mother's…I think you'd make better use of it. Besides, it calls out to you."

Erza had been eager—so eager, but she knew the value of the sword and protested. Adie had none of it, continuing to insist that it was in Erza's best interest to use the sword. "I have another one that puts this to shame," she had shared with a mischievous smile, "I never stood a damn chance with that one anyway."

Erza had nodded, and Adie handed over the armor she had re-finished for the mage. The new metal had a unique and familiar etching in the breastplate. Erza's fingers traced along the ridges of the metal. The design was done with great skill. Finally, she had spoken what was on her mind for some time. "You and…Barsky…you two were, erm, are Heart Kreuz."

Adassandra had merely nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. "He knew how to make a piece of armor. And you were one of his best customers. It was only too perfect that you were a part of this guild when I needed to leave Wisteria for my sister. I had known so much about you already."

"He, and you, have saved my life more than I can count," the red-head had admitted with a smile and a knowing shake of her head.

"Well," Adie had nodded at the sword with a lingering gaze, "That sword will just add to it, I betcha."

The two women had shaken hands, quickly departing without much more to pass between them. Erza hadn't removed the armor since their exchange. It had been the first time she had done so since she was a child—when Makarov gifted her with a magical eye and her first coat of arms.

No, Erza thought, it's not time to use it just yet.

Suddenly an overwhelming pressure overtook her, causing her head to feel as if it were going to explode. Her legs grew weak as she stumbled, hands clamping over her temples. The hilt of her new sword slipped from her fingers as her eyes widened with recognition of the familiar sensation. Others were dropping all around, mostly from intense pain and fear. Despite the agony, she braved it, spinning around to find him before her.

She had sensed his presence, just as he wanted.

"Hello, Erza," he smiled at her, the expression somewhat strained.

She straightened herself, chin held high as her heart threatened to burst and tears prickled at her eyes. She nodded in cold acknowledgement, the gesture faint. "Jellal."

"I've heard that you are now a Holy One," he bantered oddly. "Is it true?"

She could only nod, not trusting herself to speak.

"Ah, a well-deserved promotion," his eyes betrayed his stoic nature, and she thought she could sense something more in their depths…fear, perhaps? "Then we know where we each stand."

Again, she nodded; her fingers adeptly find the hilt of her sword. "We do. I am fighting for the magical world and you for the enemy, Jellal."

He smirked, and she knew the time she had dreaded had finally come.

The time where she faced off against her traitorous childhood friend.

The time she fulfilled her duty as a Holy Mage.

The time she would kill the man she loved. Or die trying.