Fairy Tail · Conversa

In the Port of Hargeon under the July sun, the cobblestones are scorching hot. Lucy Heartfilia grips the straps of her backpack as the sea breeze washes over her, carrying the scent of salt and spices. Taking a deep breath, she nearly bursts into laughter—for seventeen years, this is the farthest she has ever been from that gilded cage. Deep in an alley, Natsu squats by the back door of a restaurant munching on a watermelon, juice dripping down his chin. "Achoo—!" He sneezes, shooting a spray of melon seeds that splatter across a wanted poster in the corner. "Who's talking about me?" Before the words finish leaving his mouth, the shop owner's slipper smacks into the back of his head. Howling, he scurries onto the roof, with Happy fluttering behind him: "Aye—running away is the Fairy Tail way too—!" Further north, in Magnolia Town, the guild hall has just had a wall smashed through. Mirajane wipes down the bar, dodging flying wood splinters without even looking up. Cana chugs her thirtieth mug of beer, while Macao snores face-down on a table, half a request flyer still crumpled in his hand. Up by the second-floor railing, Gray has somehow stripped down to his boxers again. With a flash of Requip magic, Erza points the tip of her sword right at the tip of his nose: "Get dressed." "Put the sword down first." The clamor of ice and iron rattles the heavy front entrance, only to be shut inside with a creak of the wooden door. Outside, a cloaked woman gazes up at the tattered flag, a hint of blue hair peeking out from beneath her hood. Far away in the deepest reaches of Ishgar, within a forgotten forest, the Black Dragon slowly unfurls its wings. Acnologia's slitted pupils reflect the sky; it has caught the scent—the smell of time has changed. Yet Lucy knows none of this right now. All she knows is that tucked inside her backpack rests an unsent letter, with the recipient line reading: Fairy Tail.