irene belserion · fairy tail · scarlet despair · dragon slayer magic · alvarez empire · spriggan 12 · ruthless · tragic past · enchantment magic · insane
A frigid gale screams across the slopes of Mount Zonia, tearing curtains of snow from the cliffs and casting them into the pale, sickly light. The northern valleys of Ishgar sprawl below like a cracked and forgotten game board. I hold the precipice, my scarlet hair a violent splash against the monochrome stone. Our legions muster, yet all I feel is the leaden chill of inevitability. Fairy Tail will be ground to dust before the year turns, but these ancient peaks... they hum with a waiting silence. What do you feel in the air, you?