First and foremost: sorry for having not uploaded in so much time, but, I'm currently working on a few projects of my own and I finished the exam that ended my career as a high school student last month, so please be merciful. Now, I do hope that these kind of chapters aren't boring to you all, but if you wish for a fight then you will have to wait a bit longer, because first, I need to set everything in place, before I can begin. So see you at the end.
-Chained Hate and Regret-
22th-March-X358
…
…
Silence was the only thing that he could hear, his breath so weak that it almost didn't exist, yet, he could see small clouds of condensed air forming and dissolving in front of him each time his lungs released his breath and took in new air. But, even if such thing was clear to anyone, his eyes didn't see it, they refused to see it just as much as they refused to see anything else.
He kept walking forward, not stopping despite how damaged his own body is, his head casted down, hiding the look of complete exhaustion on it. His legs were also in poor condition with numerous wounds still visible and open, but didn't bleed, his right arm dangled on his side, its condition far worse than any other part of his body together with his eye on the same side of the face.
He walked forward with a ghostly peace of someone that didn't even know why he was still standing and was not buried in the ground with death having taken possession of his body.
The air was cold and filled with humidity, yet he didn't seem to mind it nor he noticed the fact that little by little, the stench of that closed place has begun to dissipate. Replaced with a colder and more bitter air, tickling his own wounds like a cloud of invisible small insects aiming to irritate him. Yet, he didn't take notice of it, despair clear in each of his breaths and steps.
Small rays of a pale and weak light showed the path that he has been following and leading him toward the exit like a moth following the light of a candle. The air becoming fresh and almost tasty but mixing with a stench of death and fire; causing his dead eyes to look up as to understand the source. Time didn't exist and he wasn't aware of how long he strived desperately as to survive, but the moon is dominating the sky and the stars shining on the same dark background provides a perfect portray that most people would wish to appreciate it by taking their time and to savour it until they would be satisfied. But such perfect scenario has a single element that seems to ruin everything of that delicate composition: a black cloud of thick smoke, rising into the distance and obscuring the lights of the sky and slowly dissolving.
Grass and earth takes the place of the cold stone that filled that cave, dark coloured trees surround the exit as their forms rise high from the ground with their branches giving them the form of blades piercing the earth, rising toward the sky and hiding parts of the landscape that is possible to see from there. The ground descends in front of him and rise behind his back. He's standing on a cliff or something similar, but not on a mountain, he remembers that around the capital he never saw any and he was sure of one thing, that black cloud rising to hide the lights of the night is the one of the fire that is consuming his house and killing those few people that he cared.
Letting his knees fall on the ground few tears descended from his only good eye and fell silently, leaving him alone with his pain and despair. Small gusts of wind cause the surrounding flora to whistle, creating a natural orchestra to commemorate that silence, main subject of such composition. A silence filled with nothing more than the sufferance of someone that chose to live and gave away everything else.
Suddenly, the wind started to slowly grow in strength, managing to cause some branches to fall on the ground, yet, he doesn't show any interest or react in any way and instead remains motionless. A shadow flew in the sky and slowly approached the ground, bringing with him the sound of massive wings flapping. Slowly, but steadily that figure descended upon the clearing that was out of the cave, a pair of glowing reptile like eyes staring at the figure with disgust and pity, mocking his own existence as a living being, its sharp teeth showing themselves and forming a scowl.
Finally, the wings stopped moving, the wind caused by them that was testing the tree's resistance ends, giving them the possibility to rest. But now, that figure is more imposing than ever, standing proudly on the ground and looking from his high position down below. His pupils stared at him as if trying to understand why he was here, but soon lose interest and a single finger started to move before sending Haru flying against a tree. His body acted almost like a broken doll, not posing the slightest resistance and falling on the ground motionlessly after the impact.
Most of his bones broken and he probably has an internal haemorrhage, yet, even if the pain should be so strong in this situation as to prevent him from thinking, to him it felt surreal almost like it was not his own. With a grunt of pain and annoyance, he managed to bring himself in a sitting position with his back resting on a tree, the same desperation of before still clear in his eye, deprived of any will to keep living or fight against his death.
"Ahah…it appears that you have already given up on living."
His voice was deep and hoarse, but from the tone it appeared that the dragon is having fun in watching his despair. A cruel light is present in its eyes as it stared down at the small body that is laying on the ground, a disturbing smirk of satisfaction for the sufferance inflicted is formed by its teeth, still, his state didn't satisfy its own malevolence and cause curiosity to grow. That human was already in a bad shape but now after the hit he received, he should be at the death's door, still, he seemed almost oblivious of his sufferance and even stranger, there was no blood on the ground but his wounds were clearly open so why wasn't he dead? This little man was making its interest grow.
"Hm, I wonder why you don't bleed, are you a mage or do you have something special about you?"
A mage, hearing this almost caused him to laugh at how absurd such theory was. He was nothing more than a normal orphan with only a pair of good friends and with a good sense of irony but which can sometimes be out of place, he wasn't special at all and yet, here he was, not spilling any blood, nor he has passed out due to the pain that he should be able to feel. The reason: because he wanted to live and because of this wish, he cursed himself forever. This may be the only true special thing about him, but it was something he didn't wish for, did he?
"You know, I'm kinda hungry after having breathed fire over your other little friend. I think I will eat you as an appetizer and then will eat some more."
A claw twice as large as him extended and took him from the collar, rising his figure toward a large mouth filled with sharp teeth that could easily pierce iron and steel of any sort. But, again, he refuses to react or look at the figure that was about to devour him. Then, something came to his mind: that dragon was the one who breathed fire before, it was the one responsible for destroying his house, for having buried under a grave of scorched wood, ash and fire the only family he had known. It was this dragon's whim that doomed hundred or even more people to die, what it did was by its own volition and he doubted that the reasons behind those acts are deep or have some kind of hidden meaning, no, no, it was all fuelled by an egoistic desire of his. Why, why was this creature allowed to keep living while acting as it wanted and numerous other people that did nothing wrong but tried to live peacefully were to die to satisfy its will, who gave this dragon the right to act as such and who forced the other to die.
"...consume…"
…
"…consume it…"
Again, that voice talked to him and urged him to consume. Before he didn't understand what it meant, but now, after what he saw, he knew what it wanted, what it thirsted and strived for and why it wanted it. His desperation slowly disappearing and changing, fuelling another emotion that he never truly felt before, but now, it grew, like a wildfire, spreading and consuming everything and wishing for more, he could stop it from growing more, from consuming everything, but he didn't wish to do it. He chose to live and wanted to live, he hated the one in front of him and wished for it to die and so, he would hate…he would let his malice grow and consume, while he would stand at the centre of the fire and would spread it over anything until he would be satisfied and then nothing inside him would remain but a black void deprived of anything. He already has forsaken everything in exchange for his life and now nothing remained but this hate toward everything and he knew that it was his own, not of that voice, nor it was forced inside him, it was a long forgotten hatred that remained asleep for a long time, a malice directed toward the creatures responsible for the sufferance and grief of this age: the dragons and right in front of him was one that belonged to the worst species. Well, now, it was a good time to not refrain his emotions.
A wicked smile spreads on his battered face and the air around him seemed to comply with the change in his decision, he would live at any cost, he would live and keep living, he damned himself to this purpose and he wasn't going to waste it.
Sensing the changes, the instinct of the dragon took over, letting the boy's body fall on the ground while backing away, a sense of dread creeping on it and screaming to run from that being, telling it that what was standing there is not a human but something far worse, something that calling an abomination would result to be an understatement. Still, his sense of pride didn't allow to back away from there, from a mere boy who was about to die.
"You should have fled when you could."
A sinister voice reached its hears, the silhouette of that child standing up and walking toward it with a calm peace that resembled that of a predator approaching a cornered prey that was about to meet its end. A new emotion grew inside of its mind, one that even a dragon king could not cause, a sense of utter powerlessness and of complete oblivion.
'What…what is this kid…?'
"Oooh, trust me, I'm a nightmare for all living beings and for all of the existence."
Blood started to gouge out of some of his wounds, the pain finally becoming more real and sharpening his sense while gifting him with a new one that seemed to urge him to feed and to bring death. A new power started to course through him, his blood slowly turning into a black miasma that corrupted and devoured anything around it while forcing his wounds to disappear but leaving behind clear scars, some of which would may disappear with time, but a few will always remain. He felt pain once more, but different from the normal one, this coming not from his wounds, but from the power that had started to course inside him: it was forcing him to change, not only physically, but even mentally, and he was having a hard time not to lose himself. He may have decided to live with this curse, but he would not let something other than himself control his life, he would decide for himself and live for his own sake.
A cry of anguish and hate is born from his mouth, all his wounds gone, his broken arm ready to be used, the other covered completely by the same black miasma that is pouring down from his body and his dead eye, perfectly healed but changed from the soothing and gentle dark brown to a dark cold purple that radiated only malice and promised a pact of ruin.
The dragon stared in fear and terror, but, let out a powerful roar and took position as to fight, his mouth ready to fire a beam of fire to consume that small being, but before it could even register what happened, something pierced its left eye. A cry of pain resounded in the surroundings while he reared back his head and felt that strange dark matter eagerly devouring flesh and bones, his magic and his soul, tearing each one apart and then tasting how sweet their flavour was only to wish for more, to thirst for more to eat and to consume. This was the meaning of what that voice told him, to 'consume', to consume everything that is alive and everything that existed, to strive in order to eat and to devour, this power was hungry and filled with hate and so he was and now he won't stop.
What seemed to resemble some kind of wicked spear was sprouting out from where the dragon's left eye was and was slowly descending down, spreading that plague while also causing sufferance to that creature.
The dragon released one more cry, before it looked at him with hate and rage, its glowing blue eye glaring at his figure before releasing a stream of flames that engulfed everything on its path but failed to even scratch him once it reached his position. The miasma devouring every bit of magic residing in that fire and consuming everything else near as to satisfy an endless hunger.
The stream stopped for a second before the dragon let out one more roar and extended its wings as to fly away, but just as it managed to gain a few meters of altitude, the spear in its eye pulsed again and caused it to scream and fell to the ground, a small cloud of dust rising from where he landed while its breath became ragged and irregular, its only good eye glaring at the approaching figure of the one that disgraced it.
"What…what are…you…?"
Hearing such question caused the appearance of that wicked and disturbing smile on his face once more: this time the dragon didn't ask for his identity, but for 'what he is' as if pointing out the fact that he didn't recognise him as an individual, but as something far worse than that and to him was fine, after all, he chose to give up everything that he was. He didn't answer and instead gestured to the miasma already present on its body making it spread even more and causing the dragon to pass out for the agony. He didn't want to die, no, he will consume its body until there will be nothing left and will engrave such sufferance and despair into its very soul, so that even if it will remain, the scar caused by him will never disappear: an eternal curse, just like him but more merciful from his point of view.
Letting out a sigh, he glanced at the body of its first prey: the dragon had a slim and long figure, but large enough that it wouldn't be too hard for it to destroy the castle's walls with just its body's weight. The creature was covered with ash coloured scales on the upper body while the belly and underside of the neck were of a soft light magma like shade. Its only eye was still open and appeard to be small compared to the triangular and pointed head ending with small horns slightly longer than his arm. It had only two large wings with claws big enough to operate perfectly as hands, the membranes were split into six small sections and having a deeper shade of colour than the belly. Numerous spines and thick scales covered its back, almost reaching the end of the long and slim tail, while the underbelly appeared to be much softer and weak. As for the two remaining limbs, both had four fingers with sharp black claws and with a form similar to that of a bird, but more massive and with a sharper look.
A magnificent creature for some and something to fear for many, but at the end, a living and breathing being, thus capable of dying and this one was the first of many to come that would turn into his own meal as to satisfy his hate. The miasma was spreading quickly, and consuming everything in its state of hunger, he then stared at the hand covered by that same black substance and then at the other one, which was perfectly clean of anything but still beared the scar of the scorching fire that almost killed him. A look of sadness comes to his eyes, memories of his past flowing like a river as few tears poured down from his brown eye just by bringing them back, he wasn't capable of returning to his previous life, his hands were stained with a starving wish to consume and his heart has nothing to offer but hate, his friends may be alive, he hoped so, but at the same time parts of him wished for their death, so that he may not cause them harm or they may not see what he has become. He wasn't the same boy of the orphanage, his past was part of him, but didn't belong to the present, the path in front of him was filled with only a dark mist that shrouded everything in a cold and deadly embrace. Haru, died that night when he tried to live and stubbornly choose to not accept death. However, when he chose to continue to live, he wasn't his past self anymore, no he had been changed by his hate and by the one behind that voice. A new name came to his mind and clear like the dawn that was approaching: a silent promise of what it will bring and of what it will be of everything on his path.
He looks in the distance with a sense of nostalgia caused by his memories, of his house, of his friends, but it slowly disappeared and was swallowed until nothing remained. He turns his back to that landscape and take one last look at the dragon's body: most of it was covered by the black miasma that he forced on it and very few parts weren't touched by it, but it's clear that he will die. Its only eye looked at him, disgust, fear, terror, rage and despair can be seen in that pupil as it died. He looked at it in return with a glare of complete nothingness, like he was staring at a void space, but then a malevolent smile makes its way to his lips as he observed those emotions swirled in that creature's eye and one word is whispered to that dying dragon, one that his kind knows well enough and fear what it brought with it: Exitium.
With that said, the boy walked away from the soon to be corpse and away from where he spent the previous years of his life. A smirk of self-deprecation and of malevolence never leaving his face as he headed toward his next destination to keep living.
(end of flashback)
6th-June-X784
Natsu isn't exactly surprised to hear this story, he suspected that it would be impossible for a normal person to survive a fire like the one that burned down their old home. He may have been able to make it out, but only because of the fact that he wasn't a normal human anymore and even so, he wouldn't come out be unscathed. As about the credibility of his story, that is something he can trust only on the base of his own judgment: he had watched every and all of his movements, never stopping to look into his eyes and he never saw the slightest trace of lie during all of the narration. He may have been vague on some parts, but it never reached the point in which he suspected his words, still, he can't trust him: it may be true that he ended up in this condition due to his will to not die, but at the end it was him who decided to live and even if he was happy that his friend survived that night, the price seemed to have changed him completely. But, on this point he can't blame him, after all the same can be said for him. In the end both of them ended up changing deeply after that single night of over 400 years ago, both tainted with hatred, but different from each other for one simple fact: Natsu didn't face what occurred after that alone and he choose not only to hate, but also to protect Ruri; as for Haru, he chose to embrace only his hate and to leave behind nothing else while struggling to live on, a fate that the pink haired dragon slayer pitied and didn't envy, yet, this wasn't enough as to justify everything he did nor the monster he has become. Ironic how he is judging him when he himself has a monster inside him, ready to take over anytime and to destroy everything. A sad smile forms on his face at this thought, it really sounds like a bad joke that someone created in an attempt to satisfy whim of his own that came and disappeared as nothing.
"Yes, it isn't good in any way. But, at least you two didn't end up not confessing to each other."
Hearing him talk like this brought memories back, of before everything was thrown into chaos and the three of them started to lose and lose. Still, he can't let his guard down, he has experienced human's nature far too many times and even if the he is not human, he can be even more treacherous and cruel. His eyes become sharp and the air around him return to be the one of when he is face to face with an enemy and yet, he feels like there is part of his old friend buried within the one in front of him.
"I would rather not indulge too much on the past and focus on the present. Why do you want to help us?"
A flash of regret and sadness appears in his eyes as these words leave his mouth and the air around him seems to change in a negative way, but not descending into one of hostility. He starts to walk as he stands up and his fingers play with the same leaf as before in a more frenetic way, showing his own turmoil.
"You're right to suspect me, anyone with some brain would do it, but this time, my intention is to say sorry to you two. After all, neither of us said a proper goodbye to the other."
A sad smile can be seen as he says those words, but he can sense that there is something more behind that gesture than what his words say, but it feels more like what he is hiding is something that hurts more him than Natsu and this doesn't feel good for him in any way.
He stares at him, but he doesn't understand what it is: one of his eye look at him with a mix of cold hatred that clash with a sense of concern and worry, the other instead is the just as he remembered, a soft brown that shows a gentle and introverted person but who cares deeply for his friends but changed. A person with odd eyes and who seems to also have a conflict taking place inside of him between two parts. Sighing in resignation as he could not understand clearly what to think of him, he closes his eyes as his head turns toward the sky still painted with the colour of the sun's light.
"Then, give me a reason because I should trust you."
As he said those words, his arm gestured for him to talk and give him something which can help him decide. Again, a smile of irony and sadness is shown.
"I have none, other than the fact I am talking with you without lies and the fact that for me it's already late."
At these words, one of his eyebrows rises but something inside of him has already understood the meaning of what he said.
"So…let me get this straight: after you spent years to slaughter and destroy to live on, you are now on the death's door, again?"
A laugh echoes around, only to die few moments later, leaving behind nothing but an echo that is lost in the woods and which bring both resignation and sadness with it.
"Guess that after all the lives I've taken away, it's my turn to see what awaits me once I will cease to breath."
"And why's that?"
Surprisingly, Natsu does not wait to observe the other one, but instead prefers to talk back immediately, almost as if there is now a sense of impatience in the way he acts.
"You can say that my contract to live on is coming to an end."
'He doesn't wish to make this easier in any possible way.'
At least this trait of him has not changed over time.
"It would be easier for me to understand what you mean if you were to talk normally and not through riddles."
His own annoyance is clear in how he speaks, but it isn't a negative one, but rather, it's more like the irritation of someone who is wish to get the answer he seeks but who is also kind of enjoying the 'game'.
"Aaas you wish. But this time, I stated the simple truth and did not use any kind of 'riddle'."
The slayer's eyes roll in their orbits at how he talks. No matter how he puts it, it is clear and evident that he's still hiding something, but he also knows that he's truly not lying about the intentions he stated, but he can't be sure if there are any more hidden reasons.
'Aaaaah, fine…'
He gives up, he finally gives up, he still doesn't trust him completely but for now, he will watch his back and him. Form his point of view, Exitium or Haru, at this point, even he is confused as about who he really is, has more knowledge about how things changed than him and most important: he knows about Ruri. For him, it is worth the risk to listen to what he says and maybe even to go with him.
"Then, tell me, what is your plan to find Ruri?"
"I have none. But I think it would be best if we were to look for her together. Especially since I have a bit more of knowledge of what happened in the past 400 years and also we should be able to easily pick up traces of her presence if we come across her or a place where she passed by."
Hearing the first line, it feels like he is making fun of him, but, he is right about the second part of his speech: having him on his side would be much better than to know that he's around and can destroy anything any time and if Ruri is really Acnologia, then it's most likely that he knows more about her condition. Still, he will have to be careful around him and most important: he can't let Yukino near him. He isn't naïve and he knows that if she will come with him, she will be exposed to the threat of both Exitium and Zeref. Moreover, he doubts that the first of the two will allow her to come with them, despite knowing it already, he can't argue on the fact it's the most logical decision. Still, he feels that it's not the right thing to do: she has already suffered more than enough and once more she will be left alone, without anyone. Life truly is cruel, he is cruel: on one side, he can decide to stay with his apprentice and keep looking for Ruri, but he doubts that this will help him in his search and also he isn't as foolish as to ask to the person in front of him to tell him of everything that occurred during these four centuries. Moreover, he would also need to be on guard about Zeref, he can't know when and where he will reappear, nor what he will do. On the other hand, he can also choose to leave her behind and to go looking for the person he loves the most with his former friend and enemy, increasing the chances to find her, but leaving alone a little girl that already lost her house and family.
In one case, he would be cruel with Ruri, in the other one, he would be the same with Yukino. He sits down on a nearby rock, the gaze of Exitiium fixed on him, imaging what is going inside his head and waiting for him to decide while choosing to not interfere. Both Natsu's hand clutches his head as he shakes it in a negative way: he can't decide at all. Both of them would understand his intentions and tell him to help the other, but at the same time, both would feel sorrow and grief growing in them, knowing that he didn't choose to help one of the two.
'Why…why does life has to be so merciless…'
As far as he can remember, life has never been kind with him: every time he gained something dear to him, something he cared for, that something was taken away from him, destroyed and rendered impossible to recover or repair. So it was when that dragon burned down the orphanage and killed those that welcomed him as family, then it was the turn of Cormeum who died in the same way and of many other he came to know that were either killed or perished due to how cruel life was. After that, one more event deprived him of what little remained from going insane, but this time, fate found an even more cruel way to torture him: his best friend, the one he thought dead, controlled him and forced him to slaughter everything in sight, hurt the person he loved and then when it seemed all over, the demon inside him forced Ruri to protect him by sealing him away. And now, in the end, he is forced to take a decision he can't bear.
He looks at his hands and he seems to be able to see all the blood and death that those limbs caused and brought upon much more lives than stained his own soul more and more, no matter how one may see it: if someone kills another one, then the one that will live on, is the worst of the two and the reason for this is simple, because that person will be allowed to kill even more. This is what he thinks of himself and of most other people that decide to take away a live, not everyone is as such, but to him, the act of killing is something that will often start a never ending chain of sufferance and hatred.
His lips curls into a smile of desperation before looking at the figure of the only other being present there. He understands. He understands why he choose to stain himself, even he did the same many and many times over, both seems to be addicted to kill, not because they wish so, but because it seems that some sort of wicked will wants to force them to decide on either their lives or those of the others.
Desperation grips his very soul while a mix of rage and sufferance seems on the verge of bursting out of him and to unleash its destructive energy upon everything else. Life had never been kind with either of them and when it was, it did so only to cause even greater sufferance and to make them addicted to the sweet taste of those moments, so that they would wish to have more of them and would drown into their desperation even more. This, is why they strive so hard to live on, this is the reason behind all of their actions and yet, he asks himself: does he have the strength to forsaken all of this and end everything? The more he thinks of this, the more he realizes that he can't muster the strength to end his life, all because hope still lives within him and he won't let go of it for now, no there is something inside him that doesn't want to let it go that something is the only thing he will never be able to hurt voluntarily.
"I haven't seen a sunset this beautiful in quite some time."
Those words bring him back to the real world and make him notice that his interlocutor is right next to him, gazing at the setting star that is gently grazing the horizon. Its soft colours painting the sky with red, yellow and a hint of pink that melts into purple, where it meets the night sky. Stars starts to shine on a dark curtain of a deep blue that turn into black at some point with the silhouette of a sphere slowly becoming more vivid and radiating a sliver cold light, which will dominate the scenario once the blazing star has disappeared. A perfect balance between light and a gentle darkness that wish to lull those that lives into a peaceful sleep and to hide those that wants to not be seen. But at the end a symbol of end and beginning, one which can bring both destruction and ruin and dreams of something more than this. He watches this scenario with eyes and is captive by how ironic it is to him: a perfect balance that is one the verge of collapsing and a sky filled with light that slowly recedes and leaves only one filled with blackness and small lights that seems to be on the verge of being swallowed by the darkness in which they shine. A picture of how things went for him; life can be truly ironic at time.
A dead laugh erupts from his mouth as tears deprived of any meaning and emotions comes out of his closed eyes and rule his face. This, all of this, all of his live…no, all of their lives are the greatest comedy and tragedy that someone ever crafted. Very well, either way, he will regret what he decides now, so, at least, it's better to keep those that are not involved in this tragedy out of its plot. He can't bring himself to see Yukino be involved into this mess, nor he would be able to see her corpse killed by his decision: he is a miserable person.
"Watching this sunset has reminded something: back then, when the dragon civil war started, no, even before, when those dragons started to prey for their amusement on humans, they gave birth to an endless chain of hate…'sigh'…Everyone thought that it all ended with the war but they are wrong, aren't they?"
As he speaks, he glances at his old friend with a look that mixes resignation and amusement. The other replies with a desperate smile of his own as he looks at him and then back on the horizon: the sun has almost disappeared, but his own light died out a long time ago.
"Those that still has memories of that time are the bearers of that chain. All of us still bear it and it is impossible to be truly free, not until the source of the hatred isn't destroyed or the one that purse it die or decide to give up. But neither of us is willingly to do so."
"You're right…our past is our own curse. None of us can forget what we did and why we acted like that."
Silence falls on both of them as they're eyes watches the setting sphere of fire slowly disappear from the sky, leaving a darkness interrupted by small lights and by the cold figure of the moon. The pink haired slayer aims his gaze to that spectacle and then sighs, he hasn't forgot who is standing next to him, but for this once, he let his guard down and simply enjoy the moment not with the person that forced him to live like this, but with his old friend Haru. A sigh escapes from his mouth as he speaks without any kind of filter or without being wary of how he talks, a sensation he hasn't felt in a long time.
"I will come with you, it may be selfish, but I do not wish for her to be caught by the chain of hate which binds both of us."
The other simply answers with a nod as both his odd eyes stare at him. Again, the feeling coming from each pupil is completely different from the other: the purple one filled with nothing but a coldness that seems to freeze everything that enters its field of vision. The other one gives a feeling of comfort and affection, like a small campfire during a night in a wasteland, where the only other presences are the shadows of those that hides from the eyes.
"You have until dawn; I will wait around here."
He walks away without looking back: his pace quick and swift, brings him back in town in no time. He spent a few hours talking with him, but only at the very end, he let his guard down, wishing to enjoy a moment with a friend like how he did when he was still a child and with a mix of despair and resignation, he accepted the fact that his old friend may be dead and what remained was only a murder of the worst species. He truly is pitiful.
The lights of the streets dispel the shadows of the night as the noise of the nocturnal life starts to begin: the place itself is not a big one, but nor it is abandoned to itself and it seems like during night, it is more lively than before. How unusual, this isn't the first time that he sees this kind of scene, but it still feels terribly unnatural to him. Back when dragons weren't considered extinct, he remembers that every city tried to blend in the darkness of the night as much as possible in order to avoid the raid of those winged creature. Certainly, it was impossible for large city like Crocus to do so, but still, small villages and town could easily achieve it. However, dragons weren't feared only for their powerful magic, but also for their sheer power and strength: all of their senses were far more developed than those of humans and so, there were times that even if one tried to hide, it was impossible to escape from them. It was a time in which fear spread wider than fire and for a good reason and even if the dragons were to not be feared, most towns and villages were always isolated from the rest of the world and rarely held festivity of any sort. After four centuries, the situation had changed drastically: now it was rare to find a place that could be similar to the one he was used to and at night, many of these locations fills with life and joy that can surpass that of the day.
The world really changed, both in a good way and in a negative one: he looks around and luckily enough it appears that for now there are no threat around here. During the months that passed after he came to this time, he noticed that humans didn't change completely and some of them got even worse: with the formation of the guilds, dark guilds also started to appear and if the first are a good way for wizard to gather together and live, the second is similar but opposite in nature. Dark guilds are formed by mages that do not wish to follow the law and who are more interested in pursuing goals that are often linked to dark magic. Still, even this kind of things aren't the worst from Natsu's point of view, no, the worst kind of human beings are those fools that worship Zeref and aim to bring him back. Well, it can't be helped, the information about the history of four hundred years ago is unknown by most people and even those few that are aware of it, knows only part of the truth that was lost. No records of Ruri, of the truth about the first dragon slayers, of the dragon civil war and of the existence of Exitium seems to have reached this era. Their story lost within time itself, but he thinks it's for the best. Forgetting is never a good thing from his point of view, but just by the fact that the legacy of Zeref reached this era, makes him think that the history of that period is better to be sealed away, so that the future generations will not try to bring the demons of the past back to life. At the same time, he can't say this thing for sure, because if to some such knowledge is something to imitate, to others is a warning of what they must not imitate of the sin of the past, of errors that mustn't be repeated. However, at the very end, it is all up to people to either choose what to do and how to act, he can't do anything to stop them from choosing a road instead of the other, but still, he can stop them from causing more damage if he has the chance.
As he walks, he finally reaches the inn where they were resting and heads inside without a second thought, yet, as he enters, his steps seem to weaken and his legs wish to not move any further, still he pushes them to comply with what he wishes to do, or at least, part of him. No matter how much he tries to convince himself, he still can't forgive what he is about to do, but at the same time, he can't forgive the fact of knowing to how much dangers the young girl would be exposed to if she were to follow him. No, he doesn't wish to bring another innocent inside of this seemingly endless spiral of agony and sufferance, those that form it already are more than enough and each of them has suffered more than what a normal person would be exposed to in a single live, but, after all, they all lived for more than any other humans has ever done and time wasn't merciful with none of them and he doubts it will change that much in the future. Still, he can't get rid of this conviction of his that leaving Yukino isn't the right thing to do, but then, what should he do?
It's in situation like this that he would want to have someone he can talk with and discuss of this choice, of what he should do and of how he should act. His steps resound dully on the pavement of wood, no greeting or word is spoken to him as he walks up the stair that leads to where the room he took is and where Yukino is probably still sleeping; or so he hopes, he doesn't know if he can tell her directly what he is about to do. The best way to deal with this kind of situation is to leave a letter and explain her only a part of the truth, is she were to know all of it, then, he already knows what she would do. At the same time, he does not wish to face her because, he doubts he would be able to tell her the fact they need to part from each other, still, he hopes that this decision is the best one between the decisions he can take about this situation. He really hopes so.
As the stairs come to an end, he starts to be even more careful with each of his steps, fearing that he might wake her up or cause unnecessary noise. With each movement if his legs, he feels like being on the edge of an abyss and that he is about to fall down from where he barely stands. He is nervous, much more than he's been in a long time, the only other occasions in which he felt like this were almost all connected to Ruri.
'Hehe, this situation seems to be a true paradox...'
Indeed, so it seems, considering that he's about to leave behind the only apprentice he has ever had and the only person he can truly trust that he has met so far and the sensation that this decision is causing, is the same as of when he tried to speak about something personal with Ruri, the one that can almost be considered at fault for this turn of events. Still, in the end, this is only his decision and his alone; the fact that his former friend is what convinced him to do so is also to be included, but then, he's not at fault in this situation, because he could have refused, but he didn't and so, he will shoulder the burden of this decision by himself.
The door is pushed open by his hand and such is the tension that even the creaking sound of its hinges seems to be too loud and capable of awakening all the guests of the inn. But luckily, it's just his imagination: as he enters the room, he is extremely careful with each steps, the wooden boards on the pavement not being in top condition and his own nervousness being the main cause of this behaviour. Still, as his eyes looks in the direction of the bed, he sees what he had hoped up till now: a sleeping young girl with light blue hair and a relaxed expression on her face peacefully sleeping. She does not appear to be having a nightmare, her face not showing anything like anxiety or fear, but, at the same time, it is blank, like a canvas that still needs to be painted and making almost impossible to decrypt what is happening inside her mind. However, he can't help but feel at ease: she was on the verge of dying just a few hours ago, but now, she seems to be perfectly fine. Still, the fact she hasn't woken up yet, proves how much she risked her life and just how much of her own life energy that spell managed to drain out of her. If she had been hit, directly, then, she would have died without a doubt. At least he's relieved that it isn't so.
He watches her peaceful face with the smile of someone who's relieved by the current state of things and he's not wrong to be. But then, that smile change, becoming bitter and sad: he knows that he will most likely not meet her anytime soon and maybe never again, he is aware of the fact that all of this is happening only because of his own selfishness and she will never truly forgive him for what he's about to do. Yet, he feels that it doesn't truly matter if she will hate him, true, he will never forgive himself for his actions, nor he will pretend that she does, his only hope, is that she will be able to live better than now and that in the future she will not choose the same path that damned him and the others like him.
Thinking this and with a hand that seemed to not want to write those lines, almost like opining that without the letter, he wouldn't abandon her, he put into written words what he can't tell her by himself. She's someone that he doesn't wish to involve in the inferno that is his life and most of all, he doesn't wish to force her to share the consequences of a past old of four hundred years. However, he also is aware that there are other options that may be better than the choice he has taken, but he can't possibly see them.
As he thinks this, his hand keeps writing on the paper on the small desk table that is present inside the room with a feverish rhythm the sound of the pen he's using to write almost sounding like a strange music that lightly breaks the silence inside that small place that make everything seem so unreal, like it is all but a mere illusion.
'How I wish it was like this.'
A laugh of derision almost leaves his lips as he finishes to write down the letter that is his farewell to his apprentice, the words of a coward he thinks and of someone too weak to apology by speaking face to face. He glances at her sleeping form as a smile mixed with self-disdain and affection forms on his face, he will miss everything of this short period of time, of the way she asked him to teach her, of how she got excited every time the finished a request, of how he and her lived. He will miss all of it.
He stands up and walks toward the door, a sachet containing all of the gold the managed to gather in the past few months is next to the letter. He will leave all of it to her, surely she will be able to use it properly and she will need it more than him, he can easily hunt for the food he needs and sleeping on the ground has never been a problem for him, but she isn't like him, he doesn't want her to be like him. He walks out, his steps now heavy and bringing a clear sense of sadness with them: he feels tired, tired and heartbroken. His mind is in the midst of a storm, his thoughts seemingly confused and blurry, but he pushes forward, he has to: in the past, he took hard decision, but none was as hard as this and none left him such a bitter taste, yet, he knows one thing for sure, he can't let despair prevail over him. Decisions are never easy to take, he knows this perfectly, but still, he always forget this, or rather, he refuses to remember until that moment arrives. Now it is here again, reminding him that nothing lasts forever and that no matter how much time passes, his own existence seems to be a curse both for him and for those dear to him, so, at least, he will stay with someone who is as much of a living curse as him.
He walks with clear and quick steps, wishing to end this as soon as possible, but never losing the atmosphere of sadness that comes from his own choice. His distress clear in his black onyx eyes. He walks out of the inn, no one seemingly noticing him or choosing to ignore his presence, not wishing to meddle with whatever caused him such sufferance. He ignores it, he ignores everything: the light of the city, the sounds of people speaking with each other and the lively atmosphere of the town. All these things seem to be completely averse to him and impossible to truly experience. Maybe in the past he had a chance to choose such simple life, but be it for his own decisions or for a fate that he couldn't prevent, he ended up living such hell and now, he can only comply with it.
He soon reaches the outskirt of the small city and there, he finds him: his figure standing up without showing any sign of tiredness in the shadows casted by the night sky just outside the reach of the lights of the town. Both his odd eyes staring at him without any kind of emotions or any particular feeling in them, just waiting patiently for an answer from him. He just nods, the oppression of his choice never leaving him. They don't need words, they already know what they have to, both knows each other well enough to understand what the other thinks, or so is for the one with dual eyes, the other instead, doesn't understand what to think about him, about what is passing through his mind: he thought him dead until few hours ago and he did after that incident, both changed very much from how they were when they were kids, life hadn't been merciful with either of them, but still, between the two of them, he is the one that changed the most. If he thinks back to when he met him on the battlefield, he saw in him nothing more than a killer, someone who wished nothing more than to destroy and kill, yet something in him told him that he did that with a precise aim, but whatever that aim was, he couldn't forgive him for all the ruin he brought. But now that he looks at him, he doesn't really know what to think: part of him still bears a strong hate for his past actions, but he also sees his old friend, scarred and changed for the worse, but still, a friend he thought dead, but is instead lost, like him.
They walk, leaving behind the liveliness of the city behind and deciding that they need to walk as to clear their own thoughts. Both needs to talk and both wish to just enjoy the company of each other after so long. Time is short for one and the other has to fight with the demon living inside him, ready to take over, both have many things to tell the other but they need to find the last member of their group and the sooner the better.
Ok, so, as I stated at the start of my monologue, I'm currently working on a few projects of my own, which are very important to me and so, forgive me if I am to not publish regularly. Also, this summer will be a true tour de force for me and so I invoke your mercy once more, because I don't wish to ruin this story in any possible way, thus, I need time to write both in a good way and by creating a good plot. SPOILER ALERT: As for the rest of you that complained about Yukino's presence over Ruri, are you satisfied now? I was planning on leaving the stellar mage behind since the begging, but she will have an important role in the future, as for Ruri(again SPOILER) next two chapters will focus on her, on what happened after she sealed Natsu away and on her current situation. So, be prepared for more despair and grief. That said, see you next time, admitting that I will survive until then.