Dawn of Adventure {Book One of The Paths We've Traveled}

Chapter Thirty-Three: Deeper and Deeper

If Erza thought it was difficult to breathe upstairs, she didn't know how to describe the claustrophobic warren she forced herself to stumble through. Each time she exhaled, her next inhale was a little smaller, her rib cage seemingly constricting more and more with each breath. And the damn dress certainly didn't help.

"Well," she muttered, reaching up to undo her cloak. "At least I know I'm getting close. That's what we figured with Wendy, right? The worse she felt, the closer we were. And I feel like absolute shit right now."

Speaking out loud brought her comfort, as did letting her cloak drop, pooling around her feet before she stepped out of the circle of black fabric. She rolled her shoulders. "Much better. Maybe I won't be weighed down any more."

She'd spoken too soon. By the time she made it to the next intersection, her hair stuck to her neck with sweat. She cursed the heavy fabric of the dark blue gown she wore; she'd chosen it specifically because it was the lightest of her dresses and it contained the most hidden sheaths. Not to mention, it matched the color of her guild mark. Yet while she didn't mind the weight of her armor, these gowns were simply crushing her.

Erza decided to take matters into her own hands. "If it worked for Lucy, it can work for me." But she took things a step farther. She undid her belt, the leather dropping to the ground with a loud clang as daggers rattled against the stone. Then she reached back, drawing the sword laying against her spine and propping it against the nearest wall. Then she set about undoing her dress, twisting and turning to tear the seams and simply cutting through the unnecessary ties and constraints.

Within a matter of minutes, Erza mutilated her gown enough that it lay in scraps at her feet, leaving her in only her thin white shift. And while the freedom it gave her was glorious... she couldn't help but be reminded of her misadventures from eleven years. Trials whose scars still remained. Scars that would never fade, no matter how much time passed.

She shuddered, her right eye twitching as the phantom touch of a whip stung her back. Her wrists ached and she rubbed them, fingers running over thick ridges.

Grandpa Rob crumbling away in front of her.

Jellal tied to the same post he'd rescued her from.

Her half-blind view of the world.

She gasped, hands clutching at her head as the memories pounded against her skull, threatening to overwhelm her and leave her broken and choking for air.

Lines of red crossing Jellal's beautiful eyes.

Shô whimpering in fear. "Leave me alone!"

Simon standing before her, a massive hole in his chest.

The flashbacks had never been this intense before. Even during her retelling of those awful days, she hadn't felt like the remaining pain would devour her as it wanted to now. Her nails dug into her palm, attempting to ground herself while drowning in the endless sea of painful memories.

"Don't worry, I'll get you out of here."

Millianna and Wally hiding from the guards.

"Now I'm never gonna forget your name. All I gotta do is think about your pretty hair."

Her eyes flew open at the memory of his words. Erza took a deep, shuddering breath, replaying his voice over and over again to calm her racing heart. She smiled tightly when it worked.

"There's no time to dwell on the past." Picking up her sword and stepping out of the remains of her dress, she squared her shoulders and began to walk again. "I must look forward to tomorrow. For only tomorrow can give me the strength to do what I must now. I cannot fail. Not with so much resting on my shoulders. Chin up, Erza. Keep going." And with one hand on the wall for support and the other brandishing her sword before her, she pressed on. If not for the strength in her bones, she continued for the sake of her friends, the friends she hadn't seen in years but had suffered alongside for too long. For Millianna. For Wally. For Shô. For Simon. For... for Jellal.