Eternano was falling from the sky. Her vision was blurry, her limbs felt numb, yet somehow there was warmth. Lyon was calling out to her, his voice pained, and she wanted to tell him that everything was okay.

After all, it was her choice, a choice she didn't regret.



"You know, I've been thinking," she remembered telling him, on the way back to their cottage, "Maybe after everything is over, I'll disband Crime Sorcière, leaving it a good name."

Lyon gave her a strange look, making her pause.

"And then I'm turning myself over the council."

Lyon frowned. "Don't say that. Jellal may still be alive."

She forced a smile. "I'm just imagining the worst case scenario. I wouldn't want to get my hopes up and just be crushed in the end."

He was quiet.

"You know, I also just realized, there's another option—death."

The look on Lyon's face darkened, far from amused. Her smile faltered, and she immediately grabbed his arm, squeezing it briefly.

"Just kidding!"

He sighed. "Don't ever attempt making a joke like that ever again."

"Sorry, I won't."



"You did it . . ."

She fluttered her eyes open. Her heart broke seeing Lyon's face. He was clearly trying to be strong, yet tears were falling on her cheek.

"H-hold on, Meredy, help is coming…"

Magic was slowly seeping out from her, and she couldn't even muster the strength to assure him she was fine. Lyon seemed to be saying something, yet no voice reached her ears. It must've been the repercussions of transferring Amorra too.

"You did great, Lyon," she thought, "I'm sorry too."







She had been drifting in and out of sleep. Every time, different flecks of images and scenes appeared before her eyes. .

Explosions. A massive, dark gate. The looming, dark guild master, and an ice arrow pierced straight to her heart, followed by Eternano flowing freely in the air.

Whether or not they were memories or dreams, she was unsure, but they all ended with her inside a white room, a steady beeping sound resounding to her ears. While the rest of her body felt numb, something in her chest ached, steadily increasing to the point where it was painful, too painful that she wanted to scream. Yet she wasn't sure if anything came out from her mouth, because eventually her vision faded to blackness once more. It seemed like a never ending cycle, and she herself wasn't sure if she was actually already dead or stuck in an endless nightmare or both.

The visions went on, repeating too much to the point where she had grown conscious of it, and she realized the familiar pink glow of her Sensory Link was constantly activated wherever she was. She wasn't certain what exactly was occurring, yet she knew something was amiss.

She wasn't sure how long it had been, or how many times she had woken up only to be back in slumber seconds after, but she found herself waking up to the same, blank ceiling, along with the familiar, constant rhythm of beats. She shut her eyes again, bracing herself for the pain in her chest, yet she felt nothing escalate. She attempted to lift her hand yet she felt too weak.


Instantly she turned her head to the source of the voice, and her eyes watered as she saw a familiar face.

"J-jellal," she croaked, voice raspy. She took note of the white ceilings and white walls around her, along with Jellal, who was likewise wearing pristine white clothes. She grew quiet, and Jellal took notice of her silence.

"What's wrong?"

"You're not yet dead, aren't you?"

The corners of his lips nudged up slightly, a gesture she knew was an indication that Jellal was actually amused. "Last time I checked, I'm very much alive." He followed where her gazes were. "Besides, I don't think heaven fits me well."

She breathed heavily in relief. "Then, where exactly are we?"

"We're at a medical facility." He seemed hesitant to continue. "Under the council."

"Oh." It was only then when she noticed the shackles around Jellal's wrists. "So that means once we're better, we'll be heading straight to jail?"


"It's...still being deliberated. It's possible, but the one who's going to stay in jail. . . it's probably just me."

Her brows furrowed. "What do you mean? I . . . I wouldn't accept that. . . That's not fair. . . If you would go, why not me, too?"

Jellal shifted uncomfortably in his seat. She then grew conscious of all of her surroundings-the constantly beeping sound coming out of a machine, the scent coming out from whatever tubes injected on her left hand, the tightness of the bandages wrapped around her torso, her own heavy breathing as time passed.

"Meredy. . . Do you not remember what happened?"

She shut her eyes again.

That evening at the beach, they had been sleeping peacefully in their rooms. It was a moment that Meredy hoped would last.

Yet she must've spoken too soon, because the next morning, an explosion was heard from the outside. Once they were out, panicked screams from the civilians welcomed them, along with the skies dyed red. Several dark gates were flying, heading towards different directions.

From the distance, they saw the most massive one, situated kilometers away across from the waters.

Portico Dusk.

Without wasting any time, the four of them boarded a boat towards its direction.

She remembered fighting many demons as soon as they reached the island. She remembered seeing pillars. Glowing orbs. She remembered seeing Jellal, unconscious.

She also remembered the face of the leader, Abyss, whose eyes were cold, cruel.

He stood in front of the massive gate, laughing cruelly as the Behemuths attacked them, the massive gate slowly sucking in their magic. The only thing that could stop his ever-increasing power was to directly hit his magical container, just like the Behemuths from before.

It would only be a matter of time until he'd manage to absorb everyone's magic. Yet using Amorra was difficult; Abyss was a moving target, and a heavy toll struck her every time she missed. Apart from that, a barrier was protecting him.

The scene reminded her of the first time she encountered them. Everything seemed futile.

Until she remembered one thing.

When Jellal was captured, standing behind the barrier, she was able to connect with him via Sensory Link.

Her Sensory Link could phase through the top barrier surrounding the gate.

With her mind thinking of plans, she didn't notice a projectile aiming straight at her, but it only hit the solid ground since Lyon quickly grabbed her shoulders and jumped them out of danger's way.

"Meredy, you're out of focus." He was panting. She knew he was getting exhausted too. "What's wrong?"

"I have an idea," she replied, as their feet landed on the ground. Feebly, she swung her hand in front of her. "Sensory Link!"

Lyon watched as the pink beam emerged from her wrist, which passed through an area above the barrier. It made its way towards the wrist of Abyss. "What are you doing?!"

She ignored his frantic outburst as her eyes remained intent on their enemy. "Lyon, make an ice sword."

He gave her a bewildered look.

"Please, Lyon. Trust me."

He quietly complied. As soon as the ice weapon materialized, Meredy brushed her arm around it, surrounding the sword with a luminous aura. His eyes widened.

"This is—"

She nodded. "Yes. I'm not a moving target so you'll be able to do this easily. Now I simply need you to strike me at the center of my torso, at the level of the manubrium of—"

"NO!" Lyon grabbed her shoulders and looked at her squarely in the eyes. "Are you out of your mind?! I won't do it!"

"It's the only way!"

"I know you're planning on striking his magical container through your body. But I'm aware what Sensory Link can do!" He gritted his teeth frustratingly. "You could die!"

She gave him a small smile. "You're thinking that you might inflict physical damage on me, right?" She then held his hand that encircled the ice weapon. "I transferred my Amorra magic to you. Weapons enchanted with that spell won't inflict physical damage on the target as long as it directly hits the location of the magical container."

He still looked conflicted.

"Lyon, hurry, we don't have much time left," she uttered, glancing at Abyss who seemed near the point of fully recharging.

His hand was shaking.

"Lyon." She tried again, lifting her hand this time. She reached for his face and caressed it gently. "I'll be okay. Just trust me, please?"

The ground then rumbled, startling both of them. Another beam was emanating from the body of Abyss. Lyon clutched the weapon tightly.

Meredy plead in desperation, "Lyon, now!"

He gave her one final look of disapproval before crying in frustrated agony, as he plunged the ice weapon directly at the middle of her trunk. True to what she said, the weapon only appeared to phase through her body and did not strike her flesh.

She knew their plan worked when Abyss howled in pain.

'For a mage, having enough Eternano was essential; Eternano is the source of magical power, after all. If the magical container of Eternano becomes empty, Eternano would simply come from the atmosphere and would enter the mage's body naturally, until the magic power is completely restored.'

She remembered reading those verses in one of the book from Grimoire Heart's library.

'Having too much and too little Eternano for a long time is not good for a mage. The former may cause detrimental effects upon the structure of the body—ranging from fevers and other related conditions especially for weaker, younger bodies. The latter, however, may cause magic-deficiency syndrome. Both possibly leading to—'

"I'm dying, aren't I," she said simply. He said nothing, yet the expression on Jellal's face was enough affirmation on what she said.

She remembered falling after Lyon had struck her with the Amorra-infused blade. She remembered him catching her. Everything else was rather blurry in her head, yet the important thing was their plan did work. Abyss was gone. Portico Dusk was gone.

"Well, at least, my life wasn't all for nothing."

She opened her eyes again, only to see Jellal with an ever deeper frown.

"Don't say that."

"It's okay, Jellal. . . You don't really have to be all nice about it. You and Ultear are the big people behind Crime Sorciere, the one who has given it the good reputation. I'm simply someone who followed after—"

"Stop." Jellal's voice was authoritative, firm, enough to stop her from her yammerings. Her lips were shaking, yet she tried to stop her tears from falling. Jellal must've noticed it, his eyes shifting to being apologetic, before he said the next words. "That's not true."

She looked the other direction, blinking her tears away. "What is?"

"That you didn't give meaning to Crime Sorciere. In fact, it's because of you that Crime Sorciere came to light."

She looked at him again. "What do you mean?"

"Do you remember that night at the woods, when the two of you broke me out of prison? We talked, Ultear and I."

She did remember it. She heard someone crying that time. It must've been Ultear.

"I told her she should not have done it, that I should've been left to rot in prison. She then told me that if it was my decision, then she'd bring herself over to prison as well. However. . ."

His eyes met hers. It was piercing and honest.

"She thought of you. She knew if she'd surrender herself as well, you'd automatically follow after her. Even if she wanted you to escape, to live a better life, you wouldn't. So that time, surrendering ourselves to the council was out of question. If it weren't for your presence, Ultear and I. . . We would not have even thought of creating Crime Sorciere in the first place."

Tears streamed freely on her cheeks. So that's what Ultear meant. . .

"So never sell yourself short. You've given us a new meaning to life, myself and Ultear. And I don't think it's just us, right now. . ."

"Thank you for telling me that, Jellal." She managed to smile. "However, now I think it's too late. . ."

Jellal scooted near to her, placing his bound hands by the bedside, just beside her hand. From the years she'd known him, he was never a touchy person, so this gesture already made her heart warm, thankful.

"Don't lose hope. There's. . . something keeping you alive."

He gestured over to his chest, so she looked at hers; it was her necklace, the chip from Ultear's orb.

"The doctors said it has been infused with strange, powerful magic, which helps keep you replenished despite the leaking of your magical container. However. . ."

She noticed something different about it though; the glow seemed to be fading.

". . . it's only temporary," she continued. He nodded.

"Yes. They estimate that it would only take less than a week until it's depleted. The doctors fear if the glow runs out—"

She managed to move her fingers a bit, lightly tapping onto his.

"It's fine, Jellal."

"But. . . don't lose hope, Meredy. I'm sure. . .there's a way. They said you'd be undergoing treatment tomorrow. Perhaps . . . it would help."

She didn't say anything. A part of her wanted everything to be over, yet a part of her wanted to believe him too.

But if she did recover, would she be truly free?

It had been two days since the incident with Portico Dusk.

Meaning it had been two days since he hadn't seen Meredy.

The bastard doctors wouldn't allow him to see her. They said not until they received a clearance from the council that visits from outsiders were allowed.

The memories were still vivid in his head.

"It's the only way!"

"You're thinking it might inflict physical damage on me, right? I transferred my Amorra magic to you. Weapons enchanted with that spell won't inflict physical damage on the target as long as it directly hits the location of the magical container."

That time, Lyon was at a loss. He recalled the time when the alliance fought Oracion Seis, where he, without hesitance, easily gave in to Erza's request to chop her poisoned arm.

"Lyon, hurry! We don't have much time left."

That time, the rational side of him knew that her request was for the greater good, yet he could not bring himself to lift the sword. She may have the determined look in her eyes, but. . .

"Lyon, now!"

And so he did. The sword phased through her. There was no blood, yet he knew it had hit her directly. As Abyss wailed in pain, Fairy Tail charged into the barrier. In his periphery, Eternano was flowing freely in the air, yet he paid no attention to any of them.


Her limp body fell, yet he caught her just in time. Flecks of magic were rising out of the area where his ice sword hit her.

"Meredy, please. . ."

"You did it. . ."

Drops of water fell on her cheek. He didn't realize he had already been crying. He pleaded for her to hang on, to hold onto to him. He was convinced that help was coming.

"Meredy, talk to me! Please!"

Her mouth twitched, as if she was trying to say something, but nothing came out. She mentioned something about the risks of Amorra to a Maguilty Sense user. He held her hand, seeing the familiar patterns of Sensory Link around her wrist.

He must've been already crazy, but if it was a way to speak with her, he'd do it. "Meredy, link with me."

A short second after, she did. Immediately barrage of emotions hit him, making him feel lightheaded. His body felt numb, his entire being felt weak. He felt determination, relief.

"It's okay, Lyon." It was Meredy's voice, speaking in his head. It must've been from their magical connection. "Perhaps this is my fate. The magic of Maguilty Sense was considered a lost magic for a reason. . ."

He embraced her tight. "No, I don't accept that fate."

"It's okay. . ."

There was an odd coldness he felt. Amidst her determination, he felt fear. Loneliness.

They also belonged to Meredy.

"You'll make it out, I know it. I'll be here. We'll be here." he told her, and for a brief second, he was convinced that the feeling of coldness was replaced with warmth.

A warmth that felt like hope.

And then it all vanished, the same time the link disappeared on their wrists.

If he could give Meredy hope, then he himself shouldn't give up. He knew he shouldn't.

But healing medical technology revolving around repairing broken magical containers didn't exist yet. He had consulted different healing mages. There existed magic that could increase the speed of replenishment of Eternano, yet nothing to seal a broken container. They were all temporary solutions.

The next day, he was informed that visits were already allowed. At the same day, he received a package.

It was from Walrod Cken.

"Hello! As promised, here's a gift for you. It has bloomed very beautifully.

P.S. Don't forget to bring it to your girlfriend!"

And so he did. But he only saw her through a one-way window. Apparently, she was going through treatment so visitors were not allowed to go near her yet.

He looked at her again.

She was awake, with drooping eyes. She looked tired.

"Can the flower at least reach her?" Lyon pleaded. Since it was in a special glass container, they obliged.

He witnessed how her eyes glowed the moment she saw the flower. She looked in the way of the window, where he had been standing. Even if she couldn't see him, he was convinced that she knew his presence was there. She smiled, which he returned too.

She had been receiving a special intensive therapy for two straight days; apparently it would help fill with enough Eternano before it leaked out. A temporary solution, but still a solution.

In the course of it, all living beings she saw were medical professionals in their special suits, and none even spoke with her in the brief times they entered her room. She was already getting bored. If she only knew slowly dying was this boring she'd rather just die immediately. It was a good thing, however, that they let the flower in.

It was the same type of flower she and Lyon brought for his client. The flower that brought them together. She knew it was Lyon who sent it, even if she never got to see him. At least, for the time being, she could preoccupy her mind with their memories together while she's stuck in the boring white room.

Eventually, the treatment seeped into her again, and she had fallen asleep. She didn't know how long she had been unconscious, but the next time she woke up, she felt someone's hand over hers.

It was Lyon.

She was reminded of the time at the hotel, where he had fallen asleep with his hand over hers.

But instead of letting go, she mustered all her energy to grip it tight, and to her surprise, it required far less effort to do so compared to the previous days. It successfully woke him up.

"Hey," she managed to say. She thought was a pretty lame way to greet him.

"Hey," he also said back. There was a few long seconds of silence before they both spoke again.

"How is Lamia Scale—"

"Let's get you out of here—"

They were both shunned into silence. Lyon was the first to recover.

"Let's cut this short. I've been told that you're steadily recovering. We don't have enough time. Visiting hours would end soon. Once you're ready, we could leave—"

She managed to sit up with less trouble, so it's definitely true that she was getting better.

"W-wait, Lyon! What are you talking about?"

"I'm saying we're gonna leave this place. I've managed to talk Jellal into this and would help me get to the escape route. We could go to a different continent, I don't think the council could—"

She grabbed his arm with her hand, and she realized his wrist had been sealed with magic-nullifying bracers. "Wait a minute, slow down! What has gotten into you?"

"I want to get you out of here. I want you to be happy."

"At the expense of your own reputation?! Y-you're talking crazy, Lyon! You're already a great mage; being with me would just soil everything you worked hard for—"

"Do you think I even care about that at this point?"

She saw him clenching his hands into fists. He was really serious.

"I-I. . . I don't want you to be here. If it's true that you're recovering, then once you're healthy, they'll transfer you to prison. But if you aren't, I don't want you to spend your last moments here. I . . . I want you to at least be free."

Her gaze softened, and she intertwined her hands with his.

"I . . . I don't know what to say. Thank you, Lyon."

His eyes looked hopeful. "So you change you mind?"

"I . . . absolutely appreciate the lengths you'd do just to be with me." She gave him a smile; he hasn't changed. He was still as reckless as ever. "However, I would have to decline. I'm tired, Lyon. I'm tired of running away."

He initially looked at her with disbelief. Then he bit his lip, looking away.

"I want you to live happily and freely too, Lyon. So for me, let's not do this."

She squeezed his hand with reassurance.

"And even if I were to die . . . today, tomorrow, the next day, I don't mind if it's here, or whatever place. As long as it's a place where I'm with someone I love, I don't mind."

A tear escaped from her eye, and Lyon wiped it away gently.

"But, if I don't die anytime soon, I'm sure we'll see each other again one day."

There was a bittersweet smile on his face before he took her hand, kissing her knuckles.

"Okay, if that's what you want. I'll wait for you."

"Please take care, Lyon."

Three years had passed. Life went on as usual. He had been taking on missions to make a living, doing shows for their guild to entice more mages in joining them. He had been trying to preoccupy his mind with things, but sometimes, his head would go back to thinking a certain pink-haired girl.

He would wait for her, that's for sure.

He also continued to meet with Gray every once in a while, who would tell him about the latest news about happenings in Fiore.

"So, have you heard?" Gray said one day, and he wanted to smack the idiot's head for being so vague.

"Heard about what?"

"Guess you haven't," he simply dismissed before jumping off the roof they've been sitting on, "Talk to you later!"

The nerve of that idiot!

He slid down the roof, causing the jacket he discarded to slide down as well, but he paid no heed to it since he wanted his fist to meet with Gray's idiot head.

"Excuse me!"

It was a voice he hadn't heard for a long time.

"You seemed to have dropped this?"

He couldn't believe his ears, so he turned around, just in time to see a cloaked woman pick up his jacket.


"What, you think you've seen a ghost or something?" She grinned. "Or maybe you are getting old and perhaps have forgotten about my name?"

He ignored her words and lifted her off her feet, embracing her.

"Meredy. . ."

"Yes it's me, you dummy!"

There were so much questions in his head that he couldn't manage to speak them all out, but Meredy seemed to have caught on and filled him in.

"Our sentence had been reduced after some deliberations. We do have to do some things for the council . . . but hey, we're pretty much free!"

"I-I don't know what to say! Are you hungry? There's a restaurant nearby and—"

She stood on her toes and kissed him.

"Slow down, dummy! We have all the time in the world. But before anything else, mind wearing your shirt first?"

He obliged, ignoring the amused grin from his idiot brother.

Elsewhere, in a place where flowers of different kinds have bloomed, Walrod continuously waved his hand, pulling out the weeds forming on the soil with his magic.

"Ah, the magnificent ice flower," he retorted, caressing its petals softly, "I wonder how I should name you. . . You are indeed a flower of miracles! Seals many bonds, I say! From friendship, love, Eternano containers?! Perhaps you should be called . . . super seal flower? Glue flower? Gluewer? Wahahaha~!"


A/N: Thank you to everyone who have followed this story. I really appreciate each and every feedback that I got. My biggest apologies if it took this long to have it updated.