Man, this was a quick one, but I love it (and still hate it, as I do with all of my stories).

The title meaning: le conte de fées cassé, French for 'the broken fairy tale.' This might not be accurate, as I searched on the Dictionary website, but it's better than nothing.

"It's the end of the world."

He doesn't turn to look at her. He fears that what he might find will be too painful, too frightening to be viewed by anyone such as him.

"I never thought it would come this fast." Her voice is soft and sad, with just a touch of fright.

"It isn't the end of the world yet," he says monotonously, choosing instead to look at the burning, crumbling guild below. He sees the blood and the scattered bodies. He smells burning pine and roasting flesh. He can hear the flames crackling and the sound of pure silence, undeterred in its domain below. "Just the end of Fairy Tail."

(It's too much to take in, so he looks away, looks away and never wants to look back because he sees a familiar body with its pretty, wavy hair and scattered books all over the floor and he really doesn't feel like vomiting all over his fellow survivor just yet)

She looks back at him, face covered in ash and her eyes devoid of happiness. All that's left is a thin film of blue over pretty flecks to show and prove that she is still alive.

"You shouldn't have saved me, Gazille," she says, almost as monotonously as him. "You shouldn't have done it."

"I did." He replies. "I did, and there's nothing you can do to change that. This isn't the end of the world, Lucy. Don't think that it is, because it's not."

She doesn't look at him anymore, but walks up to join him at his side. Staring down at the smoldering remains, he sees a single tear run down her cheek.

Then, she whispers just so that he can barely hear her:

"But it's the end of mine."