CHAPTER 79 - REMINISCENCE

Day and night and day again, without a moment's rest, they marched towards the ruins of Ralbthdar.

The dawn that had started so bright on the first day turned stormy in the passing of hours, perhaps to their blessing. Snow fell so heavy it blinded their path, and the piles soon reached their knees, but at least, they were invisible to the dragons that kept soaring over now and then. The silence was filled with the stormy song of the dragons, echoing across these lands, and Lucy wondered if this was how it used to be in aeons past. Was there so many of them, or even more? Did the people of Tamriel hold their every breath, in fear, as death could come at any moment, directly from above?

And as one dragon flew close, perched on the mountainside, Lucy recoiled in fright. She could sense its eyes following their tracks, she didn't have to wonder any longer. That was why the dragon cult had reigned – those under the rule of the Order were safer than those allied against them. An insane bravery it must've been to form the Tongues, to speak against the dragon overlords, and wage a war they had no chance of winning.

Yet somehow, they had won, and it gave her hope during the darkest hours. The dragons were killed once. They could be killed again.

Mankind could prevail.

The small fellowship wasted no energy in speaking. It was exhausting enough to thread forward in the blizzard, blasted cold whipping against their faces, the wind and the roars of the dragons burying their voices. All that time, Lucy kept holding onto Natsu's hand, and when she thought her fingers would freeze over and fall off, Natsu cast a tiny ember between their palms. They couldn't hold torches, but that small flame warmed her, giving her strength to follow Clairvoyance. Every little crumb of magicka she regenerated was spent maintaining the spell. If they were attacked by a dragon now, they'd be dead.

They had crossed the Valtheim bridge on the first day. In the shelter of the two towers, they ate and drank as quickly as they could, and then continued their journey, Lucy's renewed Thu'un hiding them from the eyes of Alduin. Here, the path went on amidst the mountains, becoming even more treacherous to walk. More than once was Lucy on the brink of collapsing, but still, she pushed through. They couldn't afford to stop. Not even for a moment. Not even when her whole body ached with burning pain, and every step felt like a mile.

And in the night, the vision of the dozens of dragons flying from the north above the smouldering ruins of Whiterun became all she could see. Ultimately, she knew the others saw that too, each time they closed their eyes. The dragons are here, she thought, and what was before was merely a beginning. Every burned village was just a warning call of what ought to come. How many more will burn before I finally learn Dragonrend, how many will die? Will it be too late? Knowing that, she took another heavy step, and another, and another.

On the second day's evening, Lucy was sure they were lost, and despair began to grow in her heart.

The blizzard still raged on, but she had seen the same crags and trees before. "We're running in a circle," she told them, and let her Clairvoyance fade. She fell to her knees and gasped for a breath, then tried to cast the spell again. No light sparked, no matter how she tried. "I… I'm sorry. I'm too weary to keep the spell on. It… must've… mislead us…"

Erza glanced around, then nodded softly. "No, don't worry. My memory is good. We haven't been here yet, I'm sure of it. The air smells different here," she said and looked at Gray. "Can you conjure the spell? And Natsu, can you carry her for a while?"

Natsu was already lifting Lucy into his back, and the moment she laid her head softly against his hood, she fell asleep. Through her dreamless slumber, she could hear them talking for a moment, then it got quiet again.

The dark had fallen by the time she awoke again. Grey held a dim magelight above his head, and here, the Clairvoyance dissolved. Weakly, she could see the stony steps on the ground, whipped bare by the wind. Feeling her strength renewed by the long nap, she wiggled free from Natsu's hold, and he put her down to her feet. Lucy didn't even want to imagine how exhausted he had to be from carrying her all the way, but he didn't let a sign of weariness show. She thanked him with a shy smile, then turned her eyes to the ruins.

"So, this is Ralbthdar?" Erza asked, looking up the stony stairway. "Let's head up and see."

"If this is like any other Dwemer ruin, the gates are breached, and the first quarters taken over by bandits," Natsu said, took Lucy's hand, and began to lead her forward. "Nothing we can't deal with, but the deeper we go, the more troubles we have ahead."

Erza nodded in agreement. "Tonight, we should clear out any brigands, and then rest. It's too dangerous to explore the ruins deeper, for we've been up since Whiterun. There's no chance of resupply or rescue once we descend."

"I agree," Gray said with a heavy sigh. "Hopefully the bandits have left behind some ale, because I'm dying for a drink."

"I think rations of food are more important. Who knows how long it takes to find the Elder Scroll."

As they walked up the stairs, Lucy began to see how massive the outer structure was. Stairs after stairs went up the hill until they reached the main gate, carved into the stony mountainside and reinforced with brass or corundum, without a hint of rust despite standing here for aeons. Each detail was carefully forged with such excellence Lucy hadn't ever seen in any Nordic architecture. The Dwemer had truly been ahead of their times before their eventual disappearance.

Beside the main entrance, someone had kept a garden, but must've left it untended for many years. Few herbs still pushed through the snow, deceased by the winter cold, dried deathbells glimmering with frost. Lucy wondered if an alchemist had taken residence here, and hoped they left some potions behind. If Gray needed ale, she would've loved a little boost to her depleting magicka.

Erza walked to the tall doors and began to push them open. Without resistance, they opened, just enough that they could step in. It was finally warm. She had almost forgotten how it felt like to breathe warm air, even though it smelled of metal and smoke and blood. Erza let go of the doors when all of them had entered, and they closed with a heavy slam. The sounds of the raging blizzard were left out completely, and amongst the deep silence, they heard a distant, regular thumping, like the beating heart of a living being.

The Dwemer machinery.

Carefully, after standing there in perfect awe for a good moment, Lucy stepped forward into the entrance hall. Of all the ruins and caves she had been in, this one resembled a ruin the least. Coppery pipes ran along the walls, letting out steam here and there, the tiles on the floor and the walls were still perfectly in place. Only dust had fallen on the machinery, spider webs reigned in the corners, but otherwise, destruction hadn't touched the hall. It looked the same as it did when the Dwemer still existed.

Dismantled automatons lay on the shelves, some parts had been left on the ground too. Lucy had seen those before. Travellers sometimes took their parts to their family store for sale, as they could be molten into valuable ingots of Darwen metal. In this area, this seemed to be the fate of all the automatons, to her relief. She had wanted to see a functioning automaton, anytime but not now.

Lucy had to remind herself that they were merely at the entrance of a much, much larger system of a lost civilization. As they went on, they found a labyrinth of defensive structures, several different corridors that all led downward, chamber after chamber, some locked, some left wide open where the bandits had taken residence. They arrived in a quarter where bedrolls were spread on the ground and cooking pots hung above old fireplaces. Empty bottles and bags lay all around, but there wasn't a sight of the bandits anywhere.

"They have left recently," Gray said and cast a spell of life detection. If they were still here, their auras would be revealed, but no light was reflected anywhere in the ruin. He sighed in relief. "Saves us from dealing with them, I guess." Then Gray sat and spread out on one of the bedrolls, moaning. "Gods, it feels good to lie down!"

Then, he started snoring.

"Well, that was fast," Erza chuckled and went to the stove. There was still some firewood left, so she placed them and gestured at Natsu to light it up. He gave it a little spark, and then flames lighted the room. "Settle up and get comfortable. This will probably be the last time we get proper rest in a good while."

Lucy took a bedroll and placed it close to the fire. Erza gave her a loaf of bread from her bag, and she ate eagerly. She took her waterskin and drank as if she'd been wandering in the desert for days. Her legs were still burning, and heavy as logs. As she relished in the bliss of resting, she didn't even notice Natsu, who circled nervously in the room, unable to sit down.

"Natsu?" Erza called, and then Lucy turned her eyes to him too. "Come and eat, please."

Natsu rubbed his neck, refusing to look at them.

"Are you alright?" asked Lucy softly while the thumping of the machinery echoed with an uncanny regularity. Earlier, she had thought it was like a heartbeat, but she was wrong. Not even hearts beat with such a precise unyielding rhythm. Ca-thump, ca-thump, ca-thump, ca-thump…

"No," he answered finally and touched the wound on his cheek. He took off his bag and left it on the floor, rolling his shoulders until they cracked and popped. "I'd… I'd like a moment alone, to clear my head. I'll be back soon enough. Is that okay?"

Lucy nodded, and gave him a gentle, warm smile. "Of course, just promise to be safe."

"I promise."

Then, Natsu went off into the darkness.

Lucy sighed and took another sip from her waterskin. Her shoulders slumped, and she struggled to keep her head up. "It's no wonder he needs a moment," she started, looking at Erza. Now that Gray was asleep and Natsu had gone on his own for a while, she could speak out her thoughts. "You see, he finally found his brother, after so many years of being apart."

"He did? In Whiterun?" wondered Erza, her brow lifting. "Was his brother amongst the soldiers?"

"No," Lucy said. "Zeref came there riding a dragon."

Erza stared at her for a long time, unable to even blink.

"I don't know how much Natsu ever told you about his brother, but he's… he's not an ordinary man. Never was. But now, he's a powerful vampire lord, and the new leader of the dragon cult," Lucy said. "It's a lot to deal with. Even I don't know what to say to him. I just wish I could help him somehow."

"It's enough that you're there for him, or give him space when he needs it. I'm sure of it."

Lucy shrugged. "But the thing is, Zeref is now our enemy. A frighteningly powerful enemy. He offered us a chance to join him, which we refused. It means Natsu will meet him again, and next time, he won't have mercy on us."

"Zeref gave him that wound on his cheek?"

She nodded. "And it's much deeper than skin."

Erza fell silent then, staring into the flames. In the warmth of the chamber, Lucy stripped her winter cloak and folded it over her lap. She'd nearly forgotten the weight of it, and sighed in the relief of being released from the burden of the furs and her backpack. Still, there was no comfort in the atmosphere, but heavy grief she sensed. Erza tried to hide it underneath her shell of hard steel armour, remain as still as a stone, but despite all her efforts, she was trembling, barely holding the tears at bay.

"But are you alright?" Lucy asked gently. "What happened with…"

"Jellal deserved it," Erza cut her off sharply, with a tone of anger in her voice. "He was rotten to the very core, and a fool." She laid her gaze on the fire, remaining silent for a while until she calmed again. "But back in the wheat fields of Rorikstead, he promised me he'd keep me safe even if he had to stand in between me and the one trying to end the world. All these years, my heart clung to that promise. And even when it became true, my nightmare, he kept it, at the cost of his life. Even when I was begging him to escape and live. It shows that he never cared. Not truly. Not about me." Her lips trembled as she spat out those words. "Only about himself."

Lucy turned her gaze away from her. Vaguely, she remembered how afraid Erza had been of the dragons. Fear had petrified her back in Kynesgrove, reduced the brave warrior into a quivering mess. No wonder she had clung to Jellal's promise for so long, but Lucy could also remember her courage in Labyrinthian, when Erza had severed the dragon's tail. And now, she had fought. She had saved them. Even without Jellal's protection and help.

"I'm still sorry. You loved him."

"I loved a monster," Erza said, "because that's all I ever knew." Then she exhaled and wiped her eyes. "It was time to cut off that festering limb I had carried all my life. Don't feel sorry for me, Lucy. Be happy that my torment is over now."

Then, the steel armour Erza wore around her spirit cracked. As she began to sob, Lucy embraced her tight. She let the warrior cry against her shoulder, and all the anger she once held for her was gone. Erza wasn't the one to blame, never was, and Lucy felt ashamed to ever have thought so. I can't erase who I was during my darkest times, or the things I said, but I can be better now.

"The worst thing I ever could imagine came true," Erza muttered, "and the skies are swarming with dragons. It doesn't go away when I wake. It's here, now, and Jellal is gone, and no one is coming to save me. I must protect myself. I must protect others. It's me who must keep that promise. I never thought I'd be strong enough, to breathe and fight on my own, but his death showed me that I am. I'm still here, and it means something."

"It does," Lucy said. "You are strong enough, Erza. Stronger than you know. Together, we can face our darkest fears."

Gathering herself, Erza withdrew from Lucy's embrace and dried her eyes. With a trembling hand, she stoked the fire and watched the smoke disappear to the brass grating in the ceiling. Gray was still sleeping peacefully – without his loud snoring, one could mistake him for dead. Weariness had begun to weigh heavy on her, too, but she couldn't fall asleep until Natsu had returned to the camp.

"I should go look after Natsu," Lucy said then. The peace around them felt almost treacherous, like calm before the storm. "I don't like the thought of him getting lost in these ruins."

"Go ahead," Erza answered and sniffled. "Be careful out there. I'll come looking for you both if it takes too long."

Lucy nodded, moaning as she stood up, exhaustion scorching through her whole body. I hope I find him soon, she thought as she cast a spell of Candlelight and headed out to the darkness where Natsu had gone. I'm dying for some sleep.

For how long Natsu had wandered alone in the dark like a lost ghost, he couldn't tell.

He needed no magelight to guide him as he walked in circles. His eyes could still see the details carved on the walls, faintly reminiscing the times he and Igneel explored the Dwarven ruin near Dawnstar. But now, there wasn't much room in his mind for those memories, when all he could think about was his brother, and what had become of him. He wanted to cry, but tears didn't come, his weariness forming an armour around himself that let no emotion come through.

But he felt the pain on his flesh, as his skin and bones carried the weight of the sadness he refused to feel. He didn't think he'd be able to take another step, but then he did, again and again, walking the same circle in the quarter he had settled to like a confused fawn. His cheek throbbed, burning with a strange cold ache, more like a mark than a wound. Why did you do this to me, brother? He thought, rubbing the poorly-healing scab. Once, when father was beating the shit out of me and calling me a whoreson, you stepped in to defend me. You beat him bloody for that. Your father, not mine. Why'd you hurt me now, Zeref? Why?

'Come with me, and become my ally,' Zeref had said. 'Or you will become my enemy.'

But I don't want to be your enemy.

Natsu bit his lower lip, sinking his fangs into the flesh until he could taste blood in his mouth. He trembled as he squeezed his hands into tight fists, resisting the urge to punch the metallic wall. There was a door in front of him that seemed to lead nowhere, or then it was too tightly locked for his weary muscles to open. Natsu closed his eyes and tried to exhale steadily, but all he could do was gasp a shaky breath.

I won't cry for you like a little brat again. I cried when you left home, leaving me alone with a dying mother and a fucking monster. I won't cry for you again, I won't, I won't, I won't –

But as the tears finally fell through, Natsu punched his fist into the door and yelped from pain. A spike caught his finger, sharply piercing into his skin to draw out his blood. His fingers relaxed from the sudden agony, he shook them in the air and muttered curses, but then the door began to shimmer. For a moment, the light became blinding in the dark room, and the locks opened. By itself, the door flung slowly ajar, and the light disappeared. Natsu's jaw fell as he stared at the open door.

Behind him, quiet steps skittered across the chambers. Those were Lucy's, he recognised them from the weight and rhythm specific only to her.

"Natsu, where are you?" Her call echoed in the dark.

"I'm here," Natsu answered, and quickly dried his eyes and tried to cast a healing spell on his hand to stop the bleeding. It was too late, though. Lucy stepped into the chamber and instinctively knew something was wrong. She rushed to him and took his hand into hers, studying the bloodstains under her candlelight spell.

"Oh, what happened, dear?"

"It's nothing –"

"You punched the wall, didn't you?"

Natsu nodded like a scolded little boy. Lucy wiped away the blood that ran down his arm, and gently washed her healing magic over the wound. The bleeding stopped, warm sways of her light alleviating the pain until it was gone. Natsu smiled shyly but then turned his gaze to the open door, where chilly air was flooding from.

"This door was sealed tight before I punched it," Natsu said. "Sealed with blood magic."

"And opening that was fully intentional?"

Natsu shrugged and refused to answer. The sealing of this passage had been intentional, that's the only thing he knew for sure, and it was no dwarven handcraft. Something was hidden down the path, and his guts told him it was important.

"Want to explore the sealed quarters with me?" Natsu asked. "But if you're too weary, it's fine. I'll go on my –"

"You think I'd let you explore a secret chamber on your own?" Lucy chuckled and stepped ahead of him, already walking into the passage. "Think again. Let's not take too long, though, or Erza will come looking after us."

A soft smile was still on his lips. Now that she was here, the storm inside of him had calmed down into a sweet warm sunrise. Perhaps sometimes, being away from her for a moment reminded him of the magic she caused on his heart. Because even in the darkest times, her presence alone turned the night into dawn. So, Natsu hurried after her, and together they walked down the stairway.

The stairs lead into dusty quarters. Reflections of Lucy's candlelight danced on the walls, falling softly on the entrance room where doors left into a large main chamber, a smaller bedroom, and a tiny storage. They stepped into the largest chamber full of bottles, notes, soul gems, and other artefacts that framed the room. In the corner, there stood an oaken shelf loaded with books and spell tomes, and the way they were lined in perfect order, carefully categorized by colour, reminded Natsu of his brother.

Only Zeref did that.

"Could this be…" Natsu muttered, leaving Lucy's side and running to the table. He picked up a note and flinched as he recognised the handwriting. It had been so long since he had read Zeref's letters, but these looked right the same. "No, how… how did he…"

"What is it, Natsu?"

Natsu showed the note to her. "It's Zeref. His handwriting. It's…"

"… his secret laboratory." Lucy looked down to concentrate on her memory. "Clavicus… he told us about this. The sealed door, and the garden outside the gates…" She moved her feet aside, revealing a stain of rust on the floor. But Dwarven metal did not rust.

This was blood.

The trails lead to the big table in the back of the room, almost like a stone altar below many empty candleholders. Lucy followed the traces and flinched at the sight. Once, blood had pooled here, dripping over the edge like melting spring waters.

Natsu remembered the story Clavicus had told, how Mavis had gone to pick flowers from the garden, Zeref had found her with a knife in her heart, and her soul stolen. Natsu walked to Lucy's side and wrapped his left arm around her shoulders, staring down at the rusty stains on the stone. "So, this is where Mavis died," Natsu whispered quietly.

For a moment, he could imagine himself in Zeref's shoes, standing right here and attempting to save the life of his most beloved. He flinched at the image his mind conjured to torture him, of Lucy lying here, covered in blood, not breathing. The mere thought alone was enough to tear the flesh from his bones.

I no longer wonder why you lost your mind, brother. I no longer wonder why you can't see the light. This is where you lost it. This is where the endless night began.

And suddenly, the wound on his cheek felt like the scratch of a cat.

Drowning in the unease, Lucy turned away from the blood-stained table and headed to the bookshelf. "I wonder if Zeref was trying to reach Blackreach, too. They made it this far, but without the keys, there was no way to breach the sealed gates. But how in the world had that hermit mage found them?"

"Septimus dedicated his entire life in search of the Elder Scroll, at least that's what I heard in the College," Natsu said, his gaze still locked on the table. He had left his backpack in the camp, but the weight of the keys lingered on his shoulders. Lucy seemed to shudder every time she was close to them, but why, Natsu didn't know. And she didn't either. "He must've found a clue of them somewhere. I can't tell. Does it matter? We've got them, and we can enter Blackreach."

Lucy remained silent. Her hands froze for a moment, then she shook her head and continued browsing Zeref's books. A sudden nervousness filled Natsu's guts. Had he said something wrong, or was it simply the presence of his brother that loomed in the atmosphere? He couldn't help but feel that he should not be here at all. Zeref had sealed the door with his blood, so no one else was supposed to be able to enter.

Except the blood of his blood.

From the corner of his eye, Natsu saw Lucy taking a big notebook from the shelf and opening it. He didn't want to tell her no, but felt like he should. These were all Zeref's personal belongings, his notes and memoirs, things he had left behind. Back in the College of Winterhold, Zeref's quarters have been tightly locked since he disappeared, and Natsu had never even thought about entering there without his permission. And now, he had just trespassed into his sealed private laboratory, and all of Zeref's secrets were at the reach of his fingertips.

Natsu couldn't bear to look at the table any longer. He turned, slowly talking past the alchemy stations where many bottles had once been brewing. The latest was still unfinished, with desiccated flowers in the distiller and stains of liquid that had evaporated long ago. After Mavis died, nothing had been done here. Zeref had abandoned everything.

I want to turn away. I'm not supposed to be here. Bugger the information we could find. He'd skin me alive if he knew I've been –

"Natsu," Lucy whispered, "come look."

He did, reluctantly. Lucy held open the notebook, and first Natsu saw the sweet smile on her lips, then he looked at the hand-drawn picture. Lines of ink formed a portrait of a young woman whose fair hair cascaded all the way down her back to her ankles in beautiful, delicate waves. She was wearing a white dress as she carried a dozen tomes in her arms. 'Mavis when I met her, E4 189' was written with small letters in the corner of the page.

"She was so beautiful," Lucy said with a hint of envy in her voice. You're just as, Natsu thought. "No wonder they called her the princess of the College."

Natsu couldn't argue with that, but his focus wasn't on the beauty, but on the date the drawing was made. It was the same year Zeref left home, and drawn in the middle pages of the notebook. Abruptly, Natsu turned the pages forward, and mostly the pictures presented Mavis in different ways, or landscapes from the towers of the College. Those didn't interest him. He turned backwards until he had passed the date when Zeref left.

Lucy frowned at the speed at which Natsu flipped the pages, but soon he stopped at the drawing of a little boy playing with a dog almost the same size as him. Natsu looked closer and realised it was him. 'Natsu and Meeko, E4 187' the drawing was titled. It had been his favourite dog, loyal to a fault, one Natsu still missed sometimes.

"You were such a cute little boy," Lucy said, gazing at the rough, wild hair and the wide innocent smile. "Do you remember him drawing this?"

"He used to draw often, but I don't remember this. He rarely showed me his drawings. He didn't think he was very good at it," Natsu answered. He had to chuckle then. The portrait was perfect, each detail mirroring the fleeting moment in a scary realistic way, as if he was watching it occur again before his own eyes. "But it's magical, as everything he did. Perhaps it was a spell. To make his quill and ink replicate what his eyes saw."

Then, Lucy turned the pages backwards. Natsu glimpsed drawings of their house, the swamp around it, a random bird, more of their dogs, many different plants with careful descriptions of their alchemical properties, and then a portrait of a woman sitting in a rocking chair with an infant in her arms. Natsu almost gasped. Mother's features were drawn just as he remembered her, those beautiful eyes closed as she nuzzled her face into the baby's hair. Instinctively, Natsu took the notebook from Lucy's hands and looked at it closer.

In the corner, there was a little text, and Natsu wanted to cry.

'Mother's love.'

Natsu gazed at the drawing for long. It was placed in front of the blazing hearth, which was one of the rare pleasant memories he had from his childhood. So many times, he had stared into the flames and played with fire, nearly causing his mother to lose her mind. But as he looked at this drawing, he realized so clearly that his mother never wanted to kill him in the womb. Whatever happened with the nightshades was never his mother's doing, and as Zeref had drawn this, he knew it hadn't been his either unlike Clavicus had said. There had been just one person in the family who didn't want him, the one Natsu had once called a father.

"It's wonderful, isn't it?" Lucy asked. "That Zeref wanted to capture this moment, and he did it so beautifully."

"It is," Natsu whispered. "Gods, how I miss her."

Without saying a word, Lucy hugged him tight.

"My mother would've liked you," he said then, still gazing at the picture. "If you'd ever come to a visit, she would've baked that delicious apple pie she always baked each autumn."

Lucy smiled. "I would've loved that."

When the memory of his dead mother became too painful to gaze at, Natsu turned the pages. He lingered at each drawing for a while until one of them stopped him completely, again. It was drawn differently than the others, not as clear, like the scenery was recalled afterwards from memory. There was a man in patterned robes and a long leather cloak fastened around his slim shoulders, and a peculiar sword rested on his belt.

"This man," Lucy said in wonder, "looks a lot like you."

And he did, indeed.

Unlike others, there was no signing in this drawing, only a date. E4 182. An emblem resembling a shining star was drawn on the man's chest. Natsu looked closer at the sword and realised it was brighter than the rest in the drawing, with a mystical crystal between the handle and the blade emitting the light, forged within a circle of metal. He'd never seen those emblems or a sword like that before, not even on the servants of the Daedra.

"I only know what Paarthurnax told us about Agnoslok's Yol that you carry in your soul, and though you haven't spoken much about it, I have a feeling that you knew it before. That your father passed the fire to you," Lucy said, looking at the picture. "How did you find –"

"In Riften," Natsu started, "Odahviing recognised the yol in me, when I unleashed the firestorm, uncontrollably. I would've died if Gildarts hadn't sewn me back together. I tried to collect the pieces somehow, and realised, that neither my mother nor my brother had wanted me dead from the start. It was my father. Because I'm not his son." He choked on his words as he gazed at the portrait of a man who looked too much like his own reflection. "But his."

"He's comely," Lucy whispered. "No wonder your mother went on a little adventure."

Natsu chuckled sadly. "And she paid with her husband's hatred."

"I don't think that's all there is to that. Paathurnax said you weren't born out of malice or misfortune, but a deeper purpose. None of us can choose our fate. Whatever happened is something we have very little control over," Lucy said, "just as I had no choice in being a Dragonborn, but I choose to carry the weight of my destiny. So must you, Natsu. The yol in you, given by your father, is the purpose you carry." She turned to look into his eyes. "And it brought you to me."

"What do you mean?"

"Our fates intertwine just as your magic did with mine when we wounded Alduin. All the trials we have passed and still must pass, they all serve the same purpose." Lucy smiled softly. "When we were made, it was no accident."

Her gaze lingered on his features for a while, so long that it almost frightened him. She looked as if she was waiting for something – her eyes were so beautiful in the dim candlelight, chestnut pools with a hint of gold, and Natsu realised he wanted to pull her in and kiss her. Maybe that was what she was waiting for, but he didn't dare, no. Not even when she inched closer, leaned towards him, he just couldn't. Not yet.

Our fates intertwine just as your magic did with mine. He had felt that, too – the first and only time he had summoned his dragonfire by using yol had been in that moment, when he joined to support Lucy in her dragon-slaying spell. All the struggles had broken like chains made of glass. With a mere whisper, he concentrated the fire into existence, creating it from nothingness with the language of the gods, and merging into Lucy's magic and soul. In that, he had been closer to her than he'd ever been, deeper than just skin on skin – then why was it so damn difficult to just kiss her now?

Deadly nervous, Natsu cleared his throat. "Whatever it was, this picture confirms that Zeref knows. He knows what happened," he said when he finally managed to turn his gaze away from Lucy, and back to the drawing. His hands quivered as he held it. "And he wanted to tell me, I know. But he won't, as long as I'm on the opposing side of the war. I should keep this drawing, though. Maybe Gildarts can recognise the emblem on these robes, or the sword he carries. If…"

"… if he's still alive, that is," Lucy said and stepped aside, suddenly shy. Natsu's heart dropped at the reminder that the fate of Gildarts was still unknown. "Zeref could've left behind some other notes. That's only a sketchbook, after all. Maybe in his journals, or –"

"I'm not sure if I want to go through his journals. Don't want to stumble into something I'd rather not know."

"Like what?"

"Like his endless pining for Mavis or something like that. If there are some research notes, those could be useful, but I don't want to read his personal entries. You wouldn't want anyone to read your journal either, would you?"

Lucy blushed then, and didn't say anything. Natsu made a small fold on the corner of the page before closing the book. No matter what, this he would keep to himself, and somehow, he knew Zeref would understand. Zeref must've drawn that for a reason, maybe just to show it to him when he'd be old enough to know the truth. Today, he was, even if the truth would unravel in tiny bits like these. One day, he'd know everything.

As Natsu walked across the room, Lucy continued to browse the books. Though there were a hundred topics she'd love to read about, notes about Blackreach were a priority to find. "We're going into a place we know nothing about, but Zeref spent years gathering pieces of knowledge. I'm sure they're here somewhere," Natsu said, hoping he didn't sound too scolding to remind her. "Now that I think, it's strange that there are no functional automatons left, at least in this part of the ruin. There should be. Zeref must've cleared this place up on his search of Blackreach…"

"I found some scrolls!"

The joy in Lucy's voice rang in Natsu's head like a ray of sunshine. It had been ages since he'd heard that specific tone of pure enthusiasm. She's becoming herself again, Natsu realised. And I couldn't be happier about that.

"Scrolls written by one of the strongest mages in Nirn's history!" Lucy took one into her hand and studied it carefully. Faint magical instructions lingered around the dry parchment. "This one makes the caster invisible. Can I keep it?"

"If you think we'll need it. Are there any –"

"Oh, what is this?" Lucy had already shoved the scroll into the pockets of her robes and was studying another. She knitted her brows while holding the scroll right above her nose. "I haven't seen a spell like this before. It's… it's supposed to send the caster into another location?"

"What? Let me see," Natsu said and went to her. The markings in the scroll's aura were difficult to read, as Zeref's handwriting used to be. "The caster is sent into a carefully predestined location, or alternatively, if used on another, sends them to the location of caster's will. Research incomplete, fatal failure might occur," he read aloud. "I wonder what that failure means…"

"If these work, it's extremely useful," Lucy said, gave the scroll to him, and found two more on the shelf. "Does carefully predestined mean that Zeref has chosen where these scrolls will send the caster, or can the caster decide it themselves?"

"They're probably meant for emergency escape. Something he could've sent him and Mavis back home they'd be surrounded by enemies. Knowing Zeref, he would leave the options open, and the caster could choose the destination. I think it must be chosen carefully, or the spell will fail. One wouldn't want to be summoned at a mountaintop or the bottom of the sea…"

"We'll keep them then," Lucy said. "I don't think Zeref needs them anymore."

"And the possibility of a fatal failure doesn't bother you?"

"If they were that dangerous, Zeref would have burned them. He allowed these scrolls to stay here as a last resort, so we can use them, too."

Not knowing how to refuse, Natsu agreed. He stood beside her as she collected all probably useful scrolls from the shelf into his arms, until they tumbled down from the faintest movement. Sighing from amusement, he glanced around and found a bark basket on the table. He gestured towards it, and Lucy got the point. She picked up the basket and moved the scrolls from Natsu's arms to it. There they stored everything they found to be useful on their journey to Blackreach, including Zeref's sketchbook, scrolls, and some potions, until weariness was finally beginning to catch up on them both.

Agreeing that they were too tired to continue, they decided to head back to the camp before Erza would get too worried. Tomorrow, they could come here again, and try to find Zeref's notes about Blackreach. Before they went, Natsu checked the bedchamber – though he'd do anything to sleep in a cosy fur bed, like what Zeref had built there, this one he had to refuse. He couldn't bear the thought of sleeping in the same bed where Zeref and Mavis had done gods knew what.

"Is that Zeref's old lute?" Lucy said, pointing at the instrument lying beside the bed. "I remember you telling me about it. The lute he borrowed from a bard at Dragonbridge, and he played so good the bard decided to gift it to him."

Natsu smiled. "I'm glad you remember that."

"How could I forget? And you had played too. You promised to show me Ragnar the Red, or perhaps some sweet ballad –"

"No, I did not." His cheeks got suddenly hot. "That you remember wrong, Lucy, I never –"

Lucy marched into the chamber, picked up the lute and blew out the dust. She played one string, its sound reverberating in the air, still in tune. "Please, can we take this to the camp? And you'll play for me, and I'll sing, would you? We can return it tomorrow."

Natsu couldn't tell her no.

They were back at the camp just when Erza was about to come searching for them. Natsu told her how they found Zeref's laboratory, and what kind of secrets were still awaiting there. Then, after pestering him to the verge of madness, Lucy got him to try out the lute. From memory, he played a few shaky chords at first, and for the death of him, he couldn't recall any of the songs Lucy requested. Not Ragnar the Red, not the Age of Oppression, not any sweet ballad, but as she began to hum the melody she always sang, Natsu could find the right chords to fit her melody. Now, he knew it by heart.

Even Gray woke from his slumber when she began to sing in the language of the dragons, the lullaby that had passed down in her blood. An empyrean glow seemed to surround Lucy as her voice echoed in the ancient ruins where the machinery still thumped in regular rhythm, like a distant war drum, accompanied by the gentle chords Natsu played on his brother's old lute – a song so powerful it could chase out the darkness of the world.

"Nuz aan sul, fent alok, fod fin vul dovah nok, fen kos nahlot mahfaeraak ahrk ruz! Paaz Keizaal fen kos stin nol bein Alduin jot, Dovahkiin kos fin saviik do muz!"