Final

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Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail or any of its characters. All copyright belongs to their rightful owners.

I'm feeling stressed and overwhelmed. Just something I felt like I needed to get out.

Dark and dusty is how I would describe the world. But even then, we ceased to exist. No laughter and no happiness reigns in this place. Ever since magic was banned for the common people, our lives were withering away. Guilds were nonexistent with only the best wizards all working for the king. It was all Zeref's fault. If he hadn't brought war to us, we wouldn't be so insignificant anymore. Acnologia was as merciless as ever, now with little to no defense against his attacks. Those who cultivated magic and did not side with the king? They were gone.

Some left with nary a glance back for the world they left could never go back to the one they once knew. Others were shunned and outcast. Dark guilds merged with those of the underground guilds. The citizens could not fight, but they knew to fear the retribution of using magic and culled their desire for help. They blocked out those they once trusted and relied on. They were alone.

Sabertooth, once the height of magic, and then second best to Fairy Tail, crumbled. Many returned to whatever family they had left. However, those without were left to rot together. And the chopping block was coming for their heads soon. So, they left just as the others had. The townsfolk were indebted to them, even more so since Sting had taken command. So, they all wordlessly, without instruction, turned a blind eye.

Sabertooth was extinct.

And they continued to fall apart in hiding until only Sting and I remained together, just as we had been in the beginning. And for the first time in a long time, Sting was lost.

The night was drawing out as we heard Lector and Frosh fall asleep. Sting kindled the fire and made sure it was enough to keep it going through the night, although it was dying out faster than he realized. I wasn't sure how long he'd been up, but it was nothing compared to the pure safety we all felt before.

It was ridiculous. No magic. Nothing at all except for those who would use it to enforce upon people who can't. But, it was as natural as breathing or eating. Ancient magic was even more so as it wasn't even something easy to learn or use. And now, neither of us could even use it without being labeled a criminal.

Ridiculous.

"Any ideas on where we should head next?" I asked as the embers settled and Sting moved to lean against me. I wrapped my cloak around him and nuzzled my chin against his hair. Even masked in the wilderness, I could still sense the lingering distress in his scent.

"I don't know."

"Crime Sorcière is supposedly in the mountains. We could head up there," I suggested. Sting shuffled for a moment but made no reply. I missed the conversations that we used to exchange. This silence wasn't normal. Not since Jiemma.

I wish he would smile again.

Soft snoring filled the air as I stopped trying to get him to say anything else. He fell limp and curled himself beneath the cloak. His legs tucked into his chest as he twisted his fingers on the fabric. I took a deep breath and went to tend the fire, making sure it would last the night before taking my place next to him.

Sitting here like this, Sting felt so small and vulnerable. Lulled by the pull of sleep, his presence was no better than that of a meek little puppy. This world is different than it used to be. I wondered if maybe, it would fall into the world that Natsu once spoke about: Edolas. A world where magic fizzled out until nothing was left. The thought made me shudder.

But, at least we could still survive right now. It would take time, but I hoped that I could find something to trigger Sting and revive him from this stasis that he's ground himself into. For now, the magic flowed inside our bodies, as alive as the red which paints our blood.

We can breathe, we can move, we can fight, and we can live. We are above extinct, and no matter what, I was ready to keep us going. Within the dirt that's stained the world, we are leaving a stardust trail in our wake. And if we could rise again from failure and stories, I think that Sting would smile again.

Dark and dusty is how I would describe the world. But even then, we still managed to survive.

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