"What did you see?" Elise asked. Simon looked over at her in confusion, an eyebrow raised. The two of them were sitting near Meridia's Core, basking in the healing the Demon Lord had given them.
"What?" He asked.
"When you got hit by Deimos' spell," she said, "what did you see? What were you afraid of?" Simon watched her quietly, before sighing and looking at the ground in front of him.
"Failure," he said. "Every fear was about failure. What would happen if we failed. If I failed. If I wasn't strong enough, or fast enough, or smart enough...It was all stuff like that."
"Like when Nami lost her hand," Elise said. Simon nodded quietly.
"Yeah," he agreed. "Like that." There was a beat of silence between them before Simon let out a weak laugh. "I'd ask what you saw, but, I think that's pretty obvious."
"Mm," Elise hummed, knowing it was obvious. "You would be right."
"...I'm sorry," he said.
"What?" Elise asked, taking her own turn to be confused.
"About erasing your memories back then," he said. "And hiding it from you. Your parents were besides themselves, and well...It was Drake's idea. I'm sure you remember now, but...You were mute. Despondent. We didn't know how to save you. But it wasn't hiding it from you and pretending it didn't exist. We should have been there for you, not tried to go back to the way things were before."
Elise cast her mind back to after the events of Phantom Dove. With her memory no longer blocked by Mest, she easily recalled her mental state when she, Drake and Nashi had escaped with Sorano. She knew she'd gone mute. She knew that she'd stayed locked away from everyone. Sit in the shower for hours. She then recalled the times people pretended not to know why she had headaches, or why Keita felt a darkness around her. She remembered how the Shadow Dragon had freed her, and helped her push past the darkness.
She also recalled that she, too, was guilty of running from the truth.
"I'm not mad," she finally said. "I can't be."
"Why not?"
"Because I ran away when Nashi died," she said. "I should have stayed. I should have tried to help Drake and the others overcome it. I did the same thing to you guys. I ran, because it's easier to run then to face your demons. It's easier to hide then to face them. So no, I'm not mad."
Simon was watching her with a careful expression, his eyes full of regret. Elise felt bad then he felt so guilty, she wanted to assuage his guilt.
"If it makes you feel any better," she said, "that wasn't the only fear I saw."
"What else was there?"
"Stuff similar to yours," she admitted. "I saw us dying and failing. I saw all of you dead, leaving me alone...I saw Drake losing his mind and becoming a dragon, and I had to kill him." Simon visibly winced at this. Elise felt a wave of guilt crash into her as she thought of the Poison Dragon. "I wonder where he is."
"Hopefully getting help," Simon replied. "Though I'm not sure trusting a disembodied voice is a good thing."
"If anyone should, it's him," she pointed out, making Simon chuckle. Elise cast her eyes downward as regret muddied her mind. "I wish I'd been more honest with him."
"How do you mean?" Simon asked. Elise laughed and looked away.
"I've always been prickly with him," she said. "Acted like he annoyed the hell out of me and that I couldn't stand him. Truth is, I love the man to death. I'd die for him if I had too, you know? He's like a brother to me, same as you and Damien. But I didn't tell him that...And I might not get the chance too." Simon was watching her, seemingly thinking.
"He knew," he said. Elise looked up in surprise, to see Simon smiling. "Did you think Drake wouldn't know that? The man with Sound Magic that can read thoughts? You really think he didn't know how much you cared about him? You think he'd just take your verbal lashings in stride just because you were on the team? No, it's not like that. He loved you too."
"...Do you think so?"
"From one of your brothers about another, trust me. He knows." Elise smiled at this, hope fluttering up her chest. She hoped Drake was okay. If she never got to see him again, she'd kill him herself.
"Thanks, Simon," she said. "I think I needed to hear that."
"No problem," he said, lighting pushing her shoulder with his fist. The motion was oddly affectionate, especially from the duty-driven warrior. "We all need to hear it sometimes."
"Does that mean I should tell you you're not a failure?" She asked with a small smile. He winced and looked down.
"Not if you're just humouring me," he replied.
"Why would I do that?" She asked. She wasn't sure how she and the redhead had fallen into such a serious topic, but she wanted to help him. Had she ever really seen Simon with his walls down like this? She felt like only Ultear had ever seen him like this. "If it's bad enough that Deimos brought it to life, I couldn't possible mock you for it."
Simon was quiet as he rung his hands together, taking his time to respond.
"I've always been terrified of failure," he said. "It came with the life I was born into. The prodigal son of Erza Scarlet and Jellal Fernandez! People expected greatness out of me since the day I was born. I was able to use both my parents magic before I was ten. I was taking S-Class jobs a few years later. No matter what I did, people always looked at me the same: Simon's here, he'll figure it out. Simon will save us. Simon knows what he's doing. No, I don't. I never have. I've just been trying to avoid having people look at me like I've failed their expectations. I don't want to upset them like that."
Elise realised he was talking sense. She had never really thought about it, but she herself had looked to him when things got bad, almost without meaning too. She did think of him as the de-facto leader of the team. He'd always projected strength and reassurance.
"That's why, when Nashi died the first time, I...I was furious all the time. Not at anyone, or anything. At myself. I failed. I didn't bring everyone home like I was supposed to. I wasn't strong enough to save her. I left her on that mountain."
Elise was cast back to Mt. Olympus. When she, Simon, Ultear and Steph had been trapped in the bowels of the base by doors laced with Magic Canceller. She could still hear Simon slamming his broken and bruised hands into the doors, trying desperately to get through to Drake and Nashi. She could still see how mangled his hands had become, how many bones he'd broken.
"Did your hands ever recover from that?" She asked quietly. Simon shook his head.
"Not completely," he answered. "I still can't wield my weapons for long without pain. I still get shakes sometimes, though I don't mention that part. That...That was the worst moment in my entire life. I completely and utterly failed, and I was furious. I was supposed to bring her home. I was the leader, the one you look to when you need help...And I wasn't there. For weeks afterwards, all I could think about was her final moments. I-If she hoped someone would save her."
Elise watched the man who had always projected strength to her sniffle as he fought tears.
"I left to travel with my Dad because I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't walk into the guild hall and nearly throw up from the guilt. I left to get stronger, so that the next time I could save who was in danger. So that if you, or Drake, or Ultear were in danger, you'd be safe because I would save you." He sniffled again, and Elise felt her own throat closing up. She couldn't handle seeing him like this. It was just too much.
"You know nobody looks at you like that, right?" She asked tentatively. "You know nobody blames you."
"I did," he answered.
"Yeah, but nobody else. Not me, or Drake, or Natsu or Lucy. Nobody blamed you." Elise was sure she'd never done this for the redhead before, but she shuffled closer and wrapped an arm around him, which was a struggle because of her small frame compared to his. "We all failed, together. It wasn't a solo job by you. Failure is just apart of the gig. Sometimes you trip and fall. Nobody in the guild expected more from you just because you're Erza's son. I'm sure she doesn't."
"I know," Simon said, throat scratchy. "I know nobody does, but...I just felt the responsibility anyway. I was one of the older ones, I was supposed to be there for you guys."
"If we're going by age, Damien is in charge," Elise said. "Do you want that doofus to lead us?" Simon snorted.
"No," he admitted.
"Exactly. So it's not on you. And even if it was, it's apart of life. Sometimes we fall, and we cry and scream about it. But we get back up, yeah?" Simon nodded along, wrapping his own arm around her and pulling her closer to him, her head coming to rest on his arm. She realised with an annoyed pang in her chest she was too short to rest it on his shoulder.
"Thanks," he said. "For saying that."
"Just returning the favour," she said. "Besides, I don't think you and I have ever talked like that before." Simon let out a weak laugh.
"No, I guess we haven't." He said. There was a beat of silence at this. "Don't tell anyone about it, yeah?"
"I was going to tell you that or I'd break the sword I made you."
Michael had been sad before, obviously. He was a human being of course, sadness was a part of the gig. He'd been sad when Blake left the guild. Sad when Nashi died. Sad when his dog died when he was younger.
But never in his life had he been so consumed by grief like this. He felt like he couldn't move. Every breath was laboured as he cried his eyes out, unable to make any noise but whimpers. This was all so horrible. Everyone was going to die, and he felt like he was already.
His Dad was faring no better. A quick glance at him told Michael he was handling it better than him, but it was still too much for him. As for Oizys, the Child of Nyx, she was standing nearby watching him with her sullen blue eyes. Another wave of sadness crashed into him when he met her gaze, making him retch as he gasped for breath.
"It's so horrible, isn't it?" Oizys asked. "Having all this sadness pent up inside. It's healthy to cry, you know?"
"N-Nothing about this is healthy!" Michael shouted.
"No?" Oizys asked, "have you properly grieved for your relationship with Nashi Dragneel? Have you properly dealt with your feelings about Drake becoming a dragon? Have you given yourself the chance to let this grief out, and not keep it inside?"
She then turned to his Dad.
"And you, Sting," she said. "Have you grieved properly for Weisslogia? Have you sorted out how you feel knowing the last thing your daughter said to you was she hated you?" Michael remembered that. Because she had been told to stay home, his little sister Ally had thrown a fit and claimed she hated the pair of them. She didn't mean it, obviously, but the realisation it might be the last thing she got to say to them saddened him.
"Grief is powerful," she continued. "People try their best to lock it away and move on, because if they don't it's all consuming. Grief can cause someone to die, you know. Dying of a broken heart, dying from your bodies inability to process how you feel. This is what happens when you don't properly cry." Michael could only assume that was her endgame. Keep them both sobbing and broken-hearted until their bodies simply gave out. Until they could no longer manage the grief they felt. They had to do something, but what? Any time he tried to stand, his legs wobbled beneath him and gave out. Casting a spell? How, when he was crying? This wasn't going to be a cakewalk.
"Now this is just sad," a familiar voice said. Michael managed to look up, and he saw that Mortavius had returned. He stood in between him and his father, arms crossed over his bone armour. "I leave for a few minutes and you both are sobbing."
"...S-She's doing this," Michael managed between heaving.
"I can tell," Mortavius replied. "Alright listen Eucliffe's, situations changed. You and I are on the same team now, got it?" Michael's eyes widened at this. "Two of my siblings have already fallen, we cannot afford to lose more. I have to work with both of you and prevent my own death here."
"W-W-Which ones?" Sting asked weakly. Mortavius' face clouded over at this.
"Mezevera and Drakhosz," he said. "Their essence has returned to our Father."
Drakhosz.
Images of Eastyn passed in Michael's mind, how he had finally found a purpose to live. He was dead. Killed by Drakhosz' soul being forcibly ripped from his own. This just engulfed him in more grief, making him retch again as he curled into a small ball.
"Seeing as you two are currently incapacitated, I guess I have to deal with the shrimp myself," Mortavius raised his hand, and a massive sword appeared in his hands. "Don't cry to much when I slice you in two, girl!" Mortavius launched himself at Oizys, who did not move. She simply moved her gaze up to look at him.
Mortavius' blade froze an inch from her face, the impact and strength of his swing destroying the earth behind her.
"It's sad, isn't it?" She asked, "you grieve for your brother and sister, don't you?" Mortavius began to shake violently, his sword dipping closer to the girl's face. "You are so, so sad. Sad that they are dead. Sad that you will never see them again. Sad that you could not save them yourself. I understand you, Mortavius. It is so horrible."
Mortavius had yet to break down and sob, but Michael could tell the magic was effecting him badly. The Demon Lord's entire body was shaking, and he lowered his blade as he did so, sniffling.
"You miss your other takeover wizards, don't you?" Oizys continued. "You wish you did not, but you do. Countless wizards you were merged with, dying one after the other. Just horrible." Oizys reached into her robes and pulled out a small dagger, glowing red as it was revealed to them. "Just let me end your suffering, Mortavius. It would be easier to just lay down and die." Michael grimaced and tried to stand. He had to do something, say something, or Mortavius would get killed right in front of him. But he could not find the strength to stand. He couldn't force his sobs back down.
"White Dragon Roar!" A stream of light flew towards Oizys, who was forced to dodge as it nearly caved her head in. Michael had no time to wonder before a hand hit his back. "White Dragon's Holy Sigil!" A warmth spread at the hand into his back, and soon the sadness in Michael's system dissipated like fog. He managed to get himself to his knees, looking up at his father.
"Dad," he managed, "you freed yourself?" His Dad nodded down at him, his own Sigil engraved in his stomach.
"I managed to get the words out while she was distracted," he said. "She can't get us with it now." Michael knew that. White Dragon's Holy Sigil prevented adverse effects from taking hold of the one engraved with it. He and his Dad had concocted the spell after his spat with Elizabeth, who had thoroughly annoyed him with her enchants.
Michael turned his attention back to Oizys, who was approaching again slowly.
"We have to get that dagger from her," he said, referencing the blade in the woman's hand. "I don't know how, but she'll use it to kill Mortavius."
"And without it, she can't," his Dad completed. Michael nodded as he cast a glance at Mortavius.
"Should we free him?" He asked, but his Dad shook his head.
"Our magic has divine properties, it'll just hurt him," he said. "Don't want to accidentally off him ourselves. Besides, watching him cry makes me feel better." Michael couldn't argue with that, it was helping a little. He turned his attention towards Oizys, who had gotten closer to them.
"Seems you've freed yourselves," she said. "How sad."
"Yeah yeah, enough of that sad shit," Michael said as he readied his fists. "Time to kick your ass and take that blade from you."
"Take it?" She asked, "you won't be doing that, I'm afraid."
"Oh yeah? Watch me!" Michael took off towards Oizys, and raised his hand to strike her. His fist glowed, and he threw a punch at her head. She dodged it rather easily. Empowering his fists with light, Michael threw dozens of punches in only a few seconds, but all of them were dodged. He threw out a hand to try and grab her wrist, but he missed and the blade sliced open his palm as Oizys jumped back.
"Seems you got cut," she said. "That's unfortunate."
"White Dragon Holy Lance!" His Father's voice cut through the air, and white spears rained down on Oizys from above. The small girl was engulfed by the smoke and debris this threw up, but there was no way she had dodged all of those attacks. Michael nursed his injured hand patiently, waiting to see what happened. When the smoke eventually did, clear, he could not believe what he saw.
Oizys was standing on the one bit of land untouched by the spears. She had not moved and single muscle, but she had surived the attack.
"That's unfortunate," she noted. "You missed me, Sting. How sad." Something was wrong here, Michael could feel it. Oizys was certainly a powerful mage, but she did not strike him as someone powerful enough to dodge all of those strikes from both him and his father. She was doing something, but what was it?
"You figure it out yet?" His Dad asked, walking to his side.
"Was just brainstorming," he answered. "She must be manipulating something, but what does that have to do with sadness?"
"No clue," Sting replied. "But as long as we can keep her away from Mortavius, we should be fine. She has no offence herself, she's all bluster. Now that we're free from that sadness spell, all she can do is run. We just have to wait her out, and she certainly doesn't have more magic than us." That was true. Michael could tell Oizys wasn't a fighter, her stature told him that. She did not carry herself like a mage who fought themselves would.
"We press the attack," he said to his Dad. "Don't give her any chances to run away, and we should land a hit eventually." His Father smiled down at him.
"You're my kid alright," he replied, "I was just thinking the same thing."
With a nod to each other, both father and son took off towards Oizys, who stood stationary as they approached. Empowering his fists again, Michael threw punches at her head, but all of them missed. His father attacked her with his own punches towards her midsection, but he too never landed a hit. Michael ducked down and tried to sweep Oizys off her feet with a kick, but he missed by a hair as she jumped a little. His Father tried to spear her midsection and throw her, but she fled to the left just enough for him to miss and tumble past her.
Michael flew back at her again, morphing his magic into claws around his hands. He swung his talons at Oizys, who still managed to weave her way around all of them. He increased his speed, and still she managed to evade him. How was this possible? What was she doing?
"Michael, dodge left!" His Father shouted somewhere behind him. Michael obliged him, tumbling out of the way as his father surged forward into Oizys. "White Dragon Lancer!" Michael knew the spell. They created a lance of light and sped towards the enemy at breakneck speed, impaling them before they could react. Michael quickly got to his feet and turned. His stomach dropped when he did.
His Father's lance had missed Oizys, but she had driven her dagger directly into his abdomen.
"How sad," she noted as she met his distressed gaze. "You got nicked by my blade. How unfortunate, Sting Eucliffe."
"Dad!" Michael shouted. Sting jumped away from Oizys and gripped his side as blood spurted forth, adding another blood stain to the countless others in the Fourth Circle. He ran to his Father's side and helped him stand, saying, "Are you okay?!"
"I'm fine, she missed everything vital," he replied, assessing his wound. He moved his hand and shook the access blood off it. "I have a bad feeling that next time she won't, though."
"This doesn't make any sense," he lamented. "Why can't we hit her?"
"I don't know," his Dad admitted. "It can't be an effect she's put on us, the Sigil is still protecting us. So she's doing something else, something she hasn't shown us yet." His Dad grunted in annoyance, brandishing his arm at Michael. "Rip off my sleeve, will you? I need to put pressure on this wound." Michael did as he asked, ripping the sleeve from his Dad's arm and tying it around his abdomen. He tightened it until he heard a grunt, then moved away.
"Now what?" He asked him.
"Now," he replied, cracking his knuckles, "you stay back and watch her. Try and figure out what it is she's doing, how she's doing it. I'm going to press the attack without getting too close to her. You see anything abnormal, shout. Otherwise, keep your eyes on her." Michael did not like this plan, but he nodded regardless. His Father took a step forward, a white aura outlining his body as magic pulsed outward. He was using White Drive, a magic enhancement spell.
Sting began to fight once more by bringing his hands together and creating a fireball of white light, lobbing it at Oizys. He ran directly behind the fireball as it flew, but Oizys jumped out of the way at the last second. His Dad brought up his hands and aimed all ten fingers at her, a laser of light bursting from each one and racing for her midsection. Again, Oizys dodged every single laser by a hair's breadth, landing gracefully nearby.
"Your aim is poor," she noted, "sad, even." Sting said nothing as he pressed the attack. He formed a bow of light in his hands and shot off hundreds of arrows at light speed towards Oizys, who was once again able to dodge every single one with a graceful move sideways, up or down. It made no sense. The longer Michael watched, he was certain. There was no way this girl should have been able to pull this off.
It was then he saw it.
For just a split second, as one of his Father's arrows zeroed in on her, he saw it. He watched the arrow's straight flight path deviate to the side, and miss her by just a fraction of an inch. Then he saw it happen again, and then again. That must have been it. Oizys was not dodging, something was making them miss. But what? What was she doing?
Sting ran closer to her and engulfed his hands in light, throwing out ranged punches. His magic flew from his fist as he punched, flying for Oizys. And just like before, Michael watched as the attacks just barely turned off target and missed. Something was wrong here, but how was she doing it?
"Seems you got cut. That's unfortunate."
Michael's eyes widened at these words came back to him. He watched Oizys flee from his Dad's attacks, and raised his hand. He shot out a laser of light, but he purposefully aimed it slightly off target, which would make it miss.
His laser connected with Oizys arm, making her grimace and fall backwards as the light knocked her back.
"Ah, did you get hit?" He asked tauntingly. "How unfortunate."
"What did you figure out?" His Dad asked, running up to him.
"She's not affecting us," Michael explained, "she's manipulating the fortune of the magic we blast at her. All of your attacks were only slightly missing, right?" His Dad nodded, "Exactly. When the attacks got close to her, they moved only a bit and missed her, like it was on purpose. She can't affect our fortune directly, but she can affect our magic's fortune." His Dad's eyes widened as it dawned on him.
"So you missed on purpose," he said, "and her blanket application of misfortune made it hit her."
"Exactly," Michael replied as he smirked in Oizys' direction, "How unfortunate that your magic seems to make you unlucky as well."
"It's quite pitiful that all you have to taunt me is throwing my own words back at me," Oizys replied, getting to her feet and gripping her arm where she'd been hit. "I wonder this, though: How unfortunate would it be if your Sigil's effects were inverted?"
She could affect their magic.
Michael only had time to realise this thought alone before the Sigil of the White Dragon on his father's stomach turned black, which probably meant the one on his back did as well. As soon as it did, Michael was overcome by grief yet again, falling to his knees as tears welled up in his eyes. He had no idea how Misfortune Magic worked, or how he could counter it. He didn't really have space to think about it either, seeing as his mind was reeling from all he had, and could, lose.
"It was admirable that you noticed a weak point," Oizys said as she approached. "But it means nothing if you cannot apply it fast enough to protect yourself." She stood in front of both of them, the bloody dagger still gripped in her hand.
"I wonder what it is you are saddened by most, Michael Eucliffe," she said aloud. "What would cause you the most grief?" She leaned down and pressed a palm to his forehead, and the world around him collapsed.
He was back in Gazania, where Sabertooth was located. His home. But this was not the home he remembered, for the Sabertooth guild hall was gone. Reduced to nothing but ash and debris. He walked into the rubble in a daze, his mind working a million miles a second to try and figure out what to do.
Then, he saw it.
Laying before him, lying in a heap, was his mother Yukino. Her clothes and skin were singed, and wherever it was not was bruised and bloody. He knelt quietly at her side, staring down at her weakly.
"Mom?" He asked. He felt as though he was little again, looking for the mother he'd wandered away from in the shopping district. "Mom? Wake up, Mom. Please? Please wake up." He rolled her over and held her gingerly in his arms, staring helplessly down at her disfigured face. "Mom, please wake up. Please, I can't go on if you're dead. Please, wake up!"
Yukino Eucliffe did not wake up.
Michael could not fight the heartbreak that permeated every cell in his body. He gently laid his mother back down on the ground, before collapsing onto his side. Instinctively, as he lay there, he knew everyone he loved was dead. His parents were dead, Ally was dead. Keita, Kyoko, Rina, Blake, they were all dead.
Juno was dead.
This caused another wave of horror to crash into him. Juno was gone too. Why was he left here? Why hadn't they taken him as well? Just to make him suffer? Well, they succeeded in that. He wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole in that moment, solely so he would never have to think again. Thinking was too painful.
As he lay there, staring at his mother's ashen figures, he wondered why this had happened to him. Why was he so unlucky? Why did his family have to die, and not someone else's? He'd gladly trade any family in the kingdom just to hear his Mother's voice one more time. To have Ally piss him off, or his Dad joke with him. He couldn't do this anymore. He couldn't keep fighting knowing everyone he loved was dead. It'd be easier if he was too.
Michael closed his eyes and felt his strength leave him. He didn't want to live anymore. He just wanted to die. For all of this to end. The silence was so inviting, so intoxicating. To never suffer like this ever again. To never love, to never lose. What was the purpose of struggling anyway? It all amounted to nothing at the end of the day. Nothing but heartache.
Michael felt the darkness grip him and he started to fall.
Further
Further
Further...
...
The cracking of bones made Michael snap his eyes open. He was not in Gazania, he was in the Fourth Circle of Judgement. And standing before him was Oizys, but she had a new look on her face.
Mainly, his Father's fist smashing her nose into her skull and sending her flying backwards, breaking her spell and releasing him. Oizys' flew far away and hit the ground hard, not moving. His father was panting from the exertion of fighting through the spell, tears staining his face.
"...Dad?" Michael asked weakly, his voice hoarse and raw. "Are you okay?" Sting did not reply to him. He simply advanced on Oizys, white tattoos covering his exposed arm.
"Don't you ever," he hissed in such a low tone Michael was scared of him. "ever, show me something like that again! Do you hear me, you bitch?! DON'T YOU EVER SLANDER WEISSLOGIA'S MEMORY WITH YOUR DECEPTIONS! DON'T YOU EVER SHOW ME THAT AGAIN, OR I'LL KILL YOU!"
Michael had never, in his entire life, heard his Father scream like that. Not once had he ever raised his voice to this degree. Michael stared at him like he was a new person, his Dragon Force crawling up his face and tattooing his cheeks pure white. Rage had overtaken his grief, and his eyes had lost their pupils as his light shone brightly from them. Oizys had not moved, but Sting did.
His Father blinked to her side in an instant, and picked her up by her cloak. Her face was bloody and her nose smashed. Her eyes were closed, so Michael could not tell if she was awake or not.
"Don't you ever," he started again, "ever ruin Yukino's beauty like that! EVER! Don't you DARE show me my kids dead! EVER! I'll kill you!" Sting raised his free arm, light gathering around his clenched fist.
Before he could object, the dagger he wanted fell from Oizys' hand.
"White Dragon Slayer Secret Art!" His father roared, "God's Exorcism!" A circle with unrecognisable characters formed around his fist, and with another shout he drove it into Oizys' stomach. The light burst through her and shone out the back into the darkness, illuminating the entire Circle around them for what looked like miles. Before Michael could say a word, Oizys was forcibly launched by the impact of the punch, and flew far off into the distance. She disappeared into the ray of light, and did not reappear in any way.
As the light faded, Michael cast a wary eye at his Dad. He was standing still, staring off into the distance, as Dragon Force faded from his body. As his magic died down again, Michael got to his feet and approached him slowly.
"Dad?" He asked loudly, voice still raw from his screams of grief. "Are you okay?" His Dad seemed to perk up at his words, turning to look over his shoulder. Michael's eyes widened when he realised his Dad's eyes were rimmed with tears.
"Yeah," he answered, clearly on the edge of a sob. "Y-Yeah I'm fine." He wiped at his eyes as Michael got closer, watching him worriedly.
"...She showed you Weisslogia?" He asked quietly. Michael had obviously never met the White Dragon that trained his father, but he knew from stories that he had been like a father to Sting. His Dad's expression fell.
"...Yeah," he said. "Among other things."
"...Ally and I?" His Dad nodded curtly at this. "Mom too, I bet. And the others."
"Spot on." Michael let out a weak scoff as he rubbed the back of his neck.
"You handled it better than I did," he said. "I gave up in that dream. I was about to let myself die."
"I was too," Sting admitted. He crossed his arms and looked down, furrowing his brow. "When I saw you all, Weisslogia, dead...I nearly gave up. Nearly crawled into a corner and let my heart fail."
"What stopped you?" Michael asked. His Dad took a shaky breath.
"Weisslogia died a long time ago," he admitted. "A long, long time ago. I knew that seeing him in Gazania, alongside my family, was impossible. It wasn't reality, it couldn't be...It couldn't be, because I already know that you guys getting to meet my Dad is just a pipe dream." He exhaled slowly, trying to calm himself. "So if that wasn't real, the rest of it couldn't be. My rage overtook my grief and I-" He gestured broadly to where his attack had thrown Oizys "-Did that."
"Well, it's a good thing you did," Michael said with a small smile, "or I'd have died with you for real." Michael walked closer and knelt down, picking up the dagger Oizys had dropped before she reached terminal velocity and flew away. It wasn't a particularly special blade, it just glowed red. Presumably because of the red gem embedded in the crossguard. Michael raised his hand and traced a finger around it, frowning.
"What is it?" His Dad asked him.
"It's Nashi's magic," he said, looking up at his father. "Or rather, END's magic." Sting looked down at it with a frown.
"The power to kill that which can't be killed," he said. "That explains how they were going to kill the Demon Lords. How they managed to do away with two already." Michael frowned as he remembered this. He had never met Mezevera's takeover wizard, but he had met Drakhosz'. Eastyn was finally dead, after all this time of wanting it. He hoped it had been quick, and painless.
"Ah, seems you knocked her out. Good work." Both Eucliffe's spun to find Mortavius behind them, arms crossed. "Good work boys."
"You here for yours?" His Dad asked, raising his fist. Mortavius rolled his eyes.
"I know you were sobbing when it happened, but I distinctly remember saying that the situation has changed," he said. "I cannot allow myself to die, so I am aligning myself with you two temporarily. Things must change before we all die."
"That mean we can seal you?" Michael asked. Mortavius narrowed his eyes at him.
"I don't recall saying that," he said. "So no, you can not. Try it, and I'll just have to kill you both anyway. It's relevant to say here that I am doing you a favour by joining you and not just killing you both and the intruder. You could call it my thanks for dealing with her while I was incapacitated." Michael recalled seeing the Demon Lord freeze before he could strike Oizys.
"Guess even you guys feel sadness, huh?" He asked, "what did you see?" Mortavius' eyes suddenly lost focus, as if he was looking far away.
"More deaths than you could possibly imagine," he replied quietly. He shook his head and returned his eyes to them. "I'll inform you both when the situation changes. You may rest for now. I'll call on you when we must act." With this the Demon Lord disappeared, leaving both of them alone.
"I'm glad he's being merciful," Sting said as he lowered his fists. "Because I honestly don't know if we could have taken him." Michael didn't know either. They had the magic advantage, but the strength advantage was all Mortavius'.
"I wonder if he'll finish off Oizys," he said.
"If she's got any sense she's already fleeing," his Dad replied. "Or her benefactor has evacuated her, seeing as she's probably unconscious." Michael nodded and looked back down at the blade, turning it over in his hand.
"Two are dead huh?" He asked, "I wonder if any of us were there."
"If there were," Sting said, "I hope they're okay."
Unbeknownst to others fighting, another end had been reached. The fight of the Fourth Circle had been resolved, and Mortavius still lived. Even though Zomrus' chains were weakening, had the horrors stopped there it would have been fine.
It did not stop there. Eight fights remained. How many more chains would loosen? How many more allies would die? Only time would tell.
And Mezevera was not present to tell it.
I'm somewhat disappointed with this chapter, but ultimately Mortavius was to survive this encounter, and there was only so much I could do with Oizys, seeing as she was outmatched heavily. I let her put up a halfway decent fight, I think. Sting outmatches her so heavily, though, that there was only so much I could do before he'd just have to punch her in the mouth. I hope you enjoyed, leave a review! Let's try and get five!