CHAPTER 74: EVENING STAR 3/3

At the dawn of the 23rd of Evening Star, Natsu stood atop the old belfry, gazing towards the rising sun. As the glowing light illuminated his face, he repeated three words in his mind.

Yol Thoor Shul.

He had done so every morning here in High Hrothgar. Most often he and Lucy woke up before sunrise, and as soon as they were up, Lucy began her training with the Greybeards. Like returning to an old habit, Natsu retreated to the belfry, so each morning he was up here by the moment the sun peeked behind the faraway mountains. It was a calming sight, one that set his mind into peace, just for a while – and made it easier to meditate on those three words. He cherished the feeling, for today, their stay here would come to an end.

It had been slightly over three weeks since Gildarts left. The day of the council was upon them sooner than they'd hoped for, whether they'd be ready or not. And Natsu knew they were not ready. Lucy was still healing and his wounds still ached, but most of all, the steps he'd taken in understanding his deal with dragonfire weren't as big as he'd hoped. Each day, after Lucy had completed the Greybeard's lessons, they climbed back to Paarthurnax. The path never got any easier to walk, nor did the old dragon's teachings become easier to understand.

Though the master of the Greybreak spoke mostly in riddles and mysteries, the help they got from Paarthurnax had immeasurable value on them both. Lucy's understanding of the Thu'um grew with each passing day at an astonishing pace. She was able to balance the power of her words better, as did she learn to utilize new shouts or combine her previously learned ones. With that, she was able to shield her soul from Hermaous Mora's influence – the strengthened Thu'um served as a ward even the Daedra couldn't breach.

For Natsu, seeing Lucy's mental state improving was the greatest gift of all. He didn't say often enough how grateful he felt to simply watch Lucy returning to her usual self, bit by bit. He had listened as Lucy and Paarthurnax shared many philosophical conversations about the state of the world, its history and future, of lore and myths Natsu had never even heard of. It was all true, revealed to them by an eyewitness.

Meanwhile Lucy worked hard on her recovery, Natsu only had one lesson – to understand the essence of dragonfire. Yol.

Paarthurnax had explained the whole deal to him several times. In fact, he had to repeat it daily, but he did it with patience. In the past, Paarthurnax had many students who were mere mortals, not Dragonborn like Lucy, but they were still able to learn the Thu'um with gradual and determined practice. Natsu could learn it as well, but if it had taken decades for others to learn even a single shout, how could he learn any faster?

Well, he had one advantage that neither Greybeards nor the ancient Tongues didn't have. He got dragonfire integrated within his soul – the knowledge was already there. He just had to learn to channel it like the dragons did.

According to Paarthurnax, Natsu had managed to release the Yol, dragonfire, several times unknowingly. In the heat of emotion, he had torn through the veils of his soul and let the raging flames out – when he conjured a flaming spear to kill a dragon with, or when he summoned firestorm, those had both been made out of Yol instead of casual fire magic. However, he had been doing it the wrong way.

Dragonfire needed to be called forth with its primordial name.

Yol Toor Shul.

Fire, inferno, sun. The full meaning of the very same shout dragons used when they breathed fire. Through breath, through Words of Power, dragonfire could be released without tearing apart his soul. Through words, he could safely unleash the full potential of the power that was given to him.

And that he struggled the most with.

Whenever he had been able to use that magic, he had done that in the whirl of uncontrollable emotion – rage, hatred, sadness, it had taken over the control and recklessly released the dragonfire within him. Now, he had to remain perfectly focused and calm for it to work. First, he needed to empty his mind of racing thoughts – how in the Oblivion was he supposed to do that!? His mind has always been like a beehive, always buzzing with hundreds of thoughts, and now it was all supposed to go quiet so that he could hear the Words of Power within.

It was fucking impossible.

But Natsu kept trying. Patiently, each day, he tried again and again. It began at sunrise, like now, as he stared at the sun and meditated on the words. Later each day, he sat in silence in Throat of the World, his legs crossed, arms resting on his lap, eyes closed. There was no way he could learn the whole three words at once. Yol was the first step. Fire. He kept imagining a flame, but it did not work. This fire was much deeper than a mere flame, it went all the way to the essence of the element's existence, when the gods had first called it to the world by its name. Yol.

After meditating enough, he was supposed to feel ready to call the essence out. Yol, he had whispered, but nothing had happened. Yol! He had shouted, and Lucy had started laughing. Of course, Lucy supported him in this endeavour, but it seemed new to her that he was learning the Thu'um now – and also, very difficult for her to understand how damn difficult it was for Natsu. He felt so tempted to just use his hands to channel the fire forward. That was the familiar route to him, but then, he wasn't equipping the dragonfire, much stronger and more ancient than any flame summoned by a pyromancer. Paarthurnax had strictly forbidden him from using his body for channelling Yol.

Dragonfire could carve its way through his body, if he let it boil too much within him, and it had already ripped him apart once. Even Rahgot, who gained his power from the blood of Agnoslok, warned him of this. The brightest flame would burn out the fastest. There had been moments when Natsu didn't think about it, nor even care about it at all, but as he truly stopped to realize he would burn out, literally, like a blown-out candle, he came to understand why he couldn't let it happen again.

Next time he would let his fire reign uncontrolled, he could die. Gildarts wouldn't save him every damn time. Neither could Lucy, because it was her who he was supposed to protect. In order to keep Lucy safe, he had to learn this. But as much as it motivated him, the task felt just as impossible as before.

He remembered how Lucy had used the Thu'um for the first time. It had been in the Palace of Kings, as Ulfric Stormcloak had addressed them after the dragon battle at Kynesgrove. Without even realizing what she was doing, she had just spoken the word and channelled the power of ancient Thu'um. She had never done so before, but as she absorbed the soul of a dragon, the knowledge was right there in her hands. But not until he had to practice the same did Natsu fully understand the magnificence of that, of her blood, of her divine gift.

Why am I still surprised? Natsu had wondered many times. Lucy is a dragon, a god. I am merely a man.

Yol Thoor Shul, he thought, again and again.

The sun was now rising above the distant mountains, painting the skies so beautifully red. Natsu knew he would miss this scenery when they'd be gone. Will we ever return here? he thought. Though the landscapes that opened from the College of Winterhold were also gorgeous, as the sun dressed the horizon of the Sea of Ghosts in shades of a new dawn. But here, they were like eagles in the eyrie, safe from the weight of the world. And most of all, safety was exactly what they had needed, being unsafe and scared for so long.

And leaving behind that safety scared him the most.

Lucy's state has improved a lot. She's learning how to regulate herself, I'm sure it can't get as bad as it was. She's finding peace and balance. The souls of her dragons are protecting her now, instead of turning against her, or turning her into something she's not. But…

There was always this damned but. There was still so much they did not know, so much Paarthurnax couldn't teach them.

He knew this nervous agitation would ease as soon as they would know what the next step would be. Tomorrow, they would meet Gildarts, who would have hopefully found out something about the Elder Scrolls. No matter how much Lucy trained, without the Elder Scroll, there was no way of learning Dragonrend to defeat Alduin with. If Gildarts had just magically summoned an Elder Scroll to his possession, everything would have been great, but Natsu knew he shouldn't hope for impossible things – he felt in his bones that finding that Scroll would be one hell of an ordeal.

… but are we really strong enough to do this?

Natsu never let this doubt show out to Lucy. In fact, there was silence between them. Had been all this time. A comfortable, yes, but the weight of the unsaid words lingered heavily upon them both. The more Lucy meditated, the more she delved into the depths of her mind, the farther away she pulled from him – and this pulled his very heartstrings. She was still healing, and as she did, the wounds of her past surfaced on her soul before they could be fully cured. Natsu knew this, but it didn't make him any less anxious.

She spoke to him very little of what she was going through. Natsu was only pretending to know. The contrast to the way she'd been on their way here felt so stark. She'd clung to him like a lifeline, wanting to know all the things she'd forgotten, she'd laughed, smiled, and the way her eyes had lingered on his for a little too long had given him such a silly warm feeling. Now, the shadows had crept back, and they grew longer in each absence of her touch.

Yol Thoor Shul, he thought one last time, but from the flames did her face once again form. It always goes to this. I'm supposed to be meditating on dragonfire, but I only meditate on memories.

The first nights here had brought him closest to the comfort of Riften as they had been since the city burned to the ground. It was the warmth of her in the bed with him that made it easiest to meditate on the meaning of dragonfire. Sometimes, during those first nights when she'd still shared a bed with him, when she had fallen asleep against his chest, he wondered if the fire within her connected to the fire within him. Of course, it was different – she had the soul of a dragon, he had nothing but a mere flame merged into the soul of a broken man. But he thought, if he could stay right there with her, he would eventually figure it all out – meditating on the warmth of her dragonfire in the safety and comfort of a bed. Gods, what he would give for that.

But here he was now, standing atop the belfry, with ruthless wind whipping his face as the coldness seemed to chase away every hint of warmth within him.

Sighing, Natsu sat down on the edge and swung his legs over the open air. Today, Lucy wouldn't be training much with the Greybeards. They were supposed to give her the final lessons, and then Paarthurnax would talk to them for the last time. Though Natsu had dreaded the daily long walk to the mountaintop, today he hoped it wouldn't be for the last. The time here had passed by way too fast. If he could just stay and spend the days here with Lucy, even as they were now, slightly distant but still closer than ever in a paradoxical way, he would stop the time to this day if it was only possible.

But he knew it was not.

What will happen to us now? How will everything change when we set out from here again? Previously, everything went to the fucking Oblivion. We suffered enough, but the worst is yet to come. I can feel that in my bones. How can I keep her safe this time? What if I can't?

One thing he was sure of – when they'd leave, they'd have no time for meditation and resting. Most of Lucy's memories were only restored through her meditating practices. Would her good process halt on this day? Somehow, Natsu was frightened of Lucy's memories returning. If she'd remember everything, they'd both have to face the thing they'd been both running from – the state of their friendship, and the way they had slipped into lovers, for a brief while. Would there be going back in either direction, would there, truly?

I shouldn't be thinking of this now. We are what we are. She is everything to me, what else does there need to be to it? We're at war against the dragons. We can think about that when this is over, if we're still breathing.

I was supposed to meditate on Yol.

Natsu smiled by himself, a sad blink of realizing how easy it used to be, to think about fire. It used to consume his mind, blaze every thought like a spark on dry wheat. Now, even the flames were pushed to the backburner of his soul, as all he could think about was Lucy.

It was her, always her.

Then, a sudden sound of giant wings flapping in the air cut off all of his thoughts. Flinching, he looked over his shoulder to the monastery's courtyard. A dragon descended from the mist, tattered wings barely holding Paarthurnax afloat as he glided from the top of the mountain to the ground. Natsu stared at the sight, unable to take a breath from his surprise. Why had Paarthurnax come here, on this very morning, after centuries of not leaving the mountain peak?

"Drem Yol Lok," the elder dragon said. "Greetings."

Laas.

Life. It was the word Lucy chanted in her mind as she sat cross-legged in front of the firelight. She had closed her eyes, letting her arms rest on her lap while she focused on her breath filling her lungs with life. Long since had she drifted so lost in the peacefulness that she could no longer hear the rattling of the fire, nor feel the warmth of it – she was so immersed in the meaning of the word that for this while, nothing existed in her world.

It was a task the Greybeards had given to her as a part of her healing, to meditate upon the ancient word of power that meant life. It didn't mean just the heartbeat or breathing of a living being, but the miracle of all life itself, celebrating the existence of consciousness in this realm as if had once been gifted by the gods. She pondered the divine essence of life, and as she kept repeating the word, it began to reveal its secrets to her. It spoke in the language of patterns – the way veins formed the same shape as lightning strikes, or how the moons reflected the spheres of the eyes – it was all reflected, everywhere, in everything.

And in this divine blessing of life, did Lucy let her body and soul heal.

In the silence, she shrouded herself in the protection of the gods. Those who had created all living things would shield her against the forces of the dark, of those who hadn't partaken in the creation of life. Daedra, and Hermaous Mora, who had once belonged to the same light as Akatosh and Shor, but had long since succumbed to the Oblivion. Lucy had thought that the darkness could bleed through the cracks in her soul, and for a while it had, but the light inside of her, the light of life, could always shine brighter. Bright enough to chase the serpents away.

For three weeks now, she had spent hours each morning meditating on the same word of power. At first, there had been resistance – why would she truly waste the precious time sitting still while the world below her burned in dragonfire? But as she began to realise the true importance of this practice, the resistance in her melted away. In being still, the wounds could heal. A wounded warrior would be a dead warrior – and in her case, the wounded Dragonborn would be a servant to the darkness, as it had happened to Miraak.

Because now, she realised how deeply wounded Miraak had been when he chose to settle onto Hermaous Mora's side. During this time, the Greybeards had strictly forbidden her communications with the First Dragonborn, but everything she had already learned was enough to put the pieces together.

But there was something else in her meditations that momentarily put her off her peace.

It was her memory returning.

Usually, when she was solely focusing on the word Laas, she could let the memories come. Lucy observed those memories like clouds passing on the sky, allowing them to be just as they were, the good and the bad and the painful. At first, there had been only flashes of images, forgotten sensations returning, that eventually began to form a bigger image of what she had been through. The fragments formed sceneries from Forelhost, and somehow, there was a solace to them, even in all that pain. She could remember Loke's last words to her – she could remember he had been there, doing all he could to save her, even at the cost of his own life. She wanted to value that instead of the sound of his skull cracking inside Rahgot's fist like a raw egg.

And it was helping. While she didn't meditate, it was easier to focus on the good moments over the bad, or just simply see the whole picture they formed of the events. It was easier to accept it now that she had welcomed all the feelings within a safe environment, allowing her soul to be mended by the Word of life. Loke's death wasn't the only example; events of Riften, the dragon battle, some what happened before that, it all was easier to remember. Easier to see the change, and how she could have prevented that.

But there was one thing, one returning memory that she struggled to deal with.

It was Natsu.

Certain memories, ones amongst the forgotten, made her cheeks blush even when she meditated. Especially then when those were crystal clear. She had only fragments, but each day there were more of them, clearer, more real. Some she struggled to believe had happened – could she have imagined it all? That she had, at one night in Riften, gotten so, so bold that she… Of course, they were close, but that close, so physically intimate? Looking at them now, she couldn't tell if it had been true to begin with.

And she couldn't just ask him if it had been.

During these last weeks, Natsu had supported her through the deepest lows, just simply being there for her whenever she needed a loyal friend. She could have sensed something different in him, though, but had only thought he'd changed due to the exhaustion of their latest battles. He kept some sort of distance from her, as if afraid to pull too close, and all she could think was whether she had been too much. At Helgen, when she had collapsed under the weight of her grief, the force between them had been enough to pull her from the gulfs of self-destruction, but now, the very same force left her wondering what in the Oblivion it was.

She knew only one thing for sure – it was that she loved him, and deeply.

Yet still, she was too scared to let him know.

A part of her kept saying that if anything hadn't torn them apart yet, then nothing ever would. That's what he had told her. Together they had gone through so much pain, and there they were, still at each other's side. Did he feel the same? But what were they? More than friends, yet less than lovers.

Laas.

I should be focusing!

But all she could see was his timid smile, in their bedchamber at Bee and Barb, which for a couple of days had been their sanctuary. Those such special days, spent in a peaceful calm before the storm, she wanted to remember more of them, but some shyness kept her from asking him. He had promised to help her remember, so why hadn't he told her already? Maybe because none of that happened, and it was only her mind, her wishful thinking creating those false memories? And if she asked, would she break this, whatever they had now?

Even compared to slaying dragons, this was so fucking difficult. Perhaps there was a solace to it – even during the darkest times and greatest responsibility, she had something mundane and ordinary to think of, too, something every other girl went through as well. And maybe, love wasn't that far from the primordial meaning of life itself.

Laas.

She thought of it once more, trying to cast away the nervousness and settle into peace once again. Whatever would happen would be arranged in the way it was meant to at the right time, and there wasn't much she could do to it now. These feelings were profoundly connected to the meaning of life – that's why they were surfacing, and she had to let them, observe them, and let them take form.

I know I'll have to tell him what I remember… or think that I remember, eventually. But it's not now. Maybe, when –

"Dragonborn," said a familiar voice, cutting her out of her thoughts. "Today is the last day you'll spend in High Hrothgar. Do you feel ready to face the final trials ahead of you?"

Lucy turned, facing Arngeir as he stood in the hallway, his sleeved arms folded on his chest. Gods, she wanted to curse, hopefully Arngeir doesn't know what I was thinking instead of meditating…

"Honestly, I can't tell," Lucy said. "But I'm better now. A lot better than I did weeks ago. There are still things that haunt me, but I can keep them at bay by now. I know I am stronger than my darkness."

Arngeir sighed softly, as he always did. It wasn't a sigh of disapproval, no, but rather of acceptance.

"Paarthurnax would like to speak with you before you leave. There's a lot I would say, too, but as our leader, he will have the honour of sending you on your way," Arngeir said. "Come. Follow us to the courtyard."

Lucy stood up and wiped the dust from her robes, grabbing her cloak and dressing into it as they went. Something strange lingered in the atmosphere, a sense of departure, but this time it was different. When she'd previously left High Hrothgar, there had been so much Arngeir had not told her – including the fact that their leader was a dragon – but now, it felt like all was said and done. There was nothing more to teach her, and she was now ready to face her destiny.

And it frightened her.

Master Einar and Master Borri opened the large stone doors, and the faint light of the morning flooded in. Lucy followed Arngeir as they stepped over the threshold. The frigid cold bit her bones the very instant as the wind met her skin. She wrapped her cloak tighter and turned her eyes to the belfry, where Natsu used to sit every morning, but now he wasn't there. Where is he then? She wondered, but the thought vanished as she found Paarthurnax in the middle of the courtyard.

"Greetings, Dovahkiin," Paarthurnax said – only his voice seemed to make her realize he was real, actually there. "Your time with us comes to an end. You have come so far, but the road ahead is yet long and hard."

Behind the dragon, Natsu appeared from the belfry's stairway, looking just as dumbfounded as Lucy. He ran past Paarthurnax, trying not to draw much attention to himself, but the dragon paid him an amused glance. Awkwardly waving his hand to the elderly beast, Natsu reached Lucy and halted by her side, giving her a soft nod as a greeting. Lucy smiled, then turned her eyes back to the dragon.

Behind them, the Greybeards placed themselves into a half-circle and fell to their knees, bowing so deep their heads touched the snow. How many generations of Greybreards had passed without them ever seeing a glimpse of their master, or even having a direct conversation? Out of utmost respect and honour, the Masters went quiet not, letting their leader speak.

"I have come here to warn you," Paarthurnax said, spreading his wings; as rays of light shone through his tattered wings, torn apart by Dragonrend long ago, the seriousness of his descent came clear to Lucy. Flying took its toll on the elderly dragon – he would not come here without a grave reason. "I sense a disturbance in the balance of this world, one that shall reveal its true nature for us in the coming days. The fabrics of the filament are tearing. We come to it at last. Kogaan Akatosh." Paarthurnax paused to take a deep look at both of them. "Go now, mortals. You are ready. Find the Kel and bring it back to the Tiid-Ahraan, Time-Wound… such is your final trial."

Natsu and Lucy bowed deep.

"Thank you, Paarthurnax, for everything," Lucy said as she lifted her head. "We wouldn't have made it without your help. With all your lessons, we can accomplish this final trial."

Paarthurnax raised his head, looking at them. "Of all joorre, mortals, only you can be trusted to behold the knowledge of Dragonrend. Such a deadly weapon I would only lay in your hands. Wield it wisely, Dovahkiin, and remember –to learn this shout, you will be taking all this hatred and evil into yourself. Zofaak suleyk. You will become it. When you do, remember who you are. Meyz nu Ysmir, Dovahsebrom. Dahmaan daar rok. Remember what you chose to fight for." He remained silent for a while, averting his old eyes to the sunset. "For this world."

And then, Lucy did not know what to say. Humbled, she stared down, letting the frigid wind blow against her. As if sensing her fear, Natsu reached for her hand, wrapping his fingers around hers and squeezing them tight. Don't worry, I'm with you, his gesture said, causing her to smile softly. We've got this.

"There are three words I will teach you before you shall depart," Paarthurnax told then. "These final words conceal your presence in the eyes of Alduin, for a while. Know this – before you have Dragonrend, fight against Alduin and his generals is futile. Krosis. You cannot prevail. The First Eight are protected by Alduin's immortality – without shattering it, you cannot win. Retreat from battle. Do not risk your laas… your life."

"You really mean I shouldn't fight against any of the dragons until I've found Dragonrend?" Lucy asked in wonder. "If there would be another dragon attack, would I just…"

"Bovul. Feim. Graan…" Paarthurnax replied, searching for the right words in a mortal tongue. "For now, finding the Kel and learning Dragonrend is your priority. Until then, Alduin can only offer you a battle you have no chance of winning. So, you must utter these three words to hide your soul in the eyes of a god."

Paarthurnax drew in a deep breath, and let his Thu'um carve its way into Lucy's mind as he spoke. "VONUN – MIIN – ALDUIN!"

The strength of the shout shuddered her very bones, yet its effects seemed obsolete to Lucy. She understood their meanings – vanish from the eyes of Alduin. As silence returned to the courtyard, she couldn't feel anything different, and maybe that was the entire reason for this shout. She wouldn't feel its effect, but she would be invisible to Alduin, whose prime target she had become.

"The Thu'um last from dawn to dusk, and then it's time for you to utter those words again. It won't conceal just you, Dovahkiin, but everyone who's holding onto you. Deinmaar is protected as well, for a while," Paarthurnax said and spread his wings. "It's now time for me to retreat to my strunmah… to my peak, from where I shall witness your efforts. Su'um ahrk morah, bahlaan wahdonne."

Then, Paarthurnax took flight, pushing air onward like waves. They watched the old dragon disappear into the mist, remaining silent long after he was gone. His presence still lingered on the courtyard – the Greybeards delighted in it, for such a privilege to meet their leader hadn't been granted to them in generations. But Lucy knew then that with those last words, as Paarthurnax had called them worthy friends, there was nothing left to say.

It was time for them to leave again.

After a moment of silence had passed, they retreated to the monastery to bid farewell to the Greybeards and grab their belongings. Changing her monk garbs to mage's robes brought tears to her eyes, tears she wiped away before anyone could see them. Arngeir gifted them with a loaf of bread and dried cheese to keep them fed on their journey to Whiterun. None of them spoke much, but all knew they did not want to leave.

At the doorstep, Arngeir spoke to them one last time. He told how the Greybeards would not take part in the council or any other political affair, but he asked if the Dragonborn would represent the Way of the Voice in their stead, to which Lucy agreed. There was a reason the Nord called war the Season Unending – they might lay down their weapons for a while, only to gather strength for the next bloodletting.

Still, Arngeir encouraged Lucy to do her best in the process of achieving lasting peace in Skyrim. The war against the dragons could be the war to end all wars – in either mankind's victory or total annihilation. The outcome would be determined by mankind's ability to overcome their differences – that's what Arngeir wished Lucy could remind them of. And she promised she would.

When the doors of High Hrothgar closed behind them and silence descended once again, Lucy stared into the horizon far ahead of them. It was midday, and they'd have only a few hours of light before it would get dark again. Somewhere far in the mist was Whiterun, their next destination, which right now felt unfathomably distant and unreachable. There was no turning back either – the only way was forward, yet Lucy felt so hesitant to take a single step further from the monastery, the eyrie that had protected them for weeks.

She took a deep, deep breath and reached for Natsu's hand. He was lost in thought as well, staring into the mist, but Lucy knew he thought the same as her. They were both wondering if they were truly ready for this, but they had no choice but to be. He glanced down at their interlocked hands, sighed, and then smiled.

"Alright, Luce," he said with a nervous chuckle. "I guess it's time to go down that mountainside once again."

"Yeah," she replied quietly. "Aren't you scared?"

"Really fucking scared."

"Me too."

Natsu raised his gaze into her eyes. There was warmth amongst the fear in him, trust amongst the doubt – he was afraid, deadly so, but still knowing deep down that they could do this. Lucy looked at him for a moment, perhaps just a little bit too long, relishing in that warmth and trust that shone brighter than the fear and doubt. Then, finding bravery in that feeling, she turned her gaze forward and took the first step towards the cliff.

Hand in hand they walked to the edge, where the seven thousand steps ended at a deadly cliffside. Looking down, all she could see was a void – a misty grey void of emptiness she would have a leap of faith into. But they had done this in the past, with far fewer skills than they had now. If they had managed to go down the mountainside without using any magic, with the sorcery they'd obtained, this would be easy.

"Well, it's always easier to go down than up," Natsu muttered and glanced at Lucy. A frigid wind blew from below, swaying his hair. "Are you ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be."

Then, she began gathering magic upon her, knowing he could feel the vibration in their interlocked hands, the strength of sorcery twirling as soft light surrounded them both. Going downwards, they could fall for a long time using only gravity to pull them, thus saving their magicka for softening the impact. Natsu began to prepare the spell as well, his magic intertwined with hers, as they both took a deep breath, almost like it would be their last.

Then they jumped, disappearing into the mist.

A/N: HOLY SHIT I'M SURE THIS CHAPTER WAS TRYING TO KILL ME! I'M SO SO SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG! PLEASE FORGIVE ME GUYS BUT I'M BACK NOW!

Okay sorry for shouting but geez, this chapter was in all of its easiness a really fucking piece of shit to write. It was JUNE OF 2023 when I last wrote abotu Natsu and Lucy, so having three chapters in between about different characters kinda fucked up my brain. It felt so difficult to get back to them and try to wrap what has been going on between them, as well as in their individual process of doing their own stuff. But well, I somehow managed to wrap this up and I hope things will get easier to write from now on (I know they won't. welp.)

Besides that this was quite a challenging chapter to write, the entire 2023 was a really transforming year for me in my personal life as well. I didn't have much energy and time for writing while trying to navigate through the rollercoaster events. For now things have regulated pretty nicely and I'm slowly trying to get myself back on track while writing this story that I love so much. Thanks for your patience and I'm eternally grateful for all the lovely feedback I've received! 3

Also I had no energy to proofread this chapter. If there are some stupid mistakes, I'm sorry, I'll fix them later xD