space | fairy tail

46 | the last tales of my mind

TRIGGER WARNING: attempted suicide

The Realm of Memories swam before them one more time, and group appeared in a grassy plain onto of mountain. It was almost like a caldera of a volcano hardened and turned into a field. Unlike before hand, where only Galatea and Amber had been floating, the entire group was levitating over the ground. Galatea and Amber were still floating higher than them, both at eye-level with Bickslow, the tallest member of the group. They heard rumblings and roars of a beast, and turned to face the sound of the commotion.

A giant 60-metre tall Hecatoncheires was standing in the field, its fifty heads roaring as it swung all one-hundred of its arms about. Facing it, was two girls in their late teens and two giant eels, one black and one white. The girl closest to the giant eels was stunning, to put it lightly. She had dark skin that seemed to glisten a gold colour, the same colour of her keys. Her hair was done in locs, that were pulled back into spacebuns high on her head, though from the mess of fighting a few bits had fallen out of the bun and were dangling on for dear life. Her light brown irises glistened as her eyes were set hard with concentration. She was dressed in a white sleeveless mini-dress that ended just before mid-thigh with a hot-pink mesh crop-top overtop. On her feet sat thigh-high white boots that provided contrast with her skin. She wore very plain makeup, a single earring in the shape of a planet dangling from her left ear. A key ring with a handful of Celestial Keys were clenched in one of her hands, and the group could spot two gold keys, a black key, and five silver keys.

"Those are Celestial Spirits..." Evergreen blinked in surprise, "Is that Vivi?"

"Yes." Galatea said, pointing to the other girl. "And that is me. We are both 17 in this memory, as this is the year X787."

Galatea was pointing at the memory version of herself, which was a year older than her Astral Form. The black streak in her hair was still there, but her hair had been cut evenly this time, and fell just past her shoulders. She was dressed in a black halter full-length dress, that had two high slits up the front exposing her legs, which were covered in a few more runes then they had seen on her Astral Form but still not as many as they knew were on her leg. Her fists were cloaked in her magic, the black and purple hue blazing with anger.

"God! Just die already!" Memory-Galatea yelled in annoyance. Her magic extended into two long tendrils as she called out, "Spatial Dragon Wing Attack!"

The group watched as Memory-Galatea and Vivi continued to fight the hecatoncheires, with Memory-Galatea's tendrils finally landing a blow, wrapping around one of the heads of hecatoncheires and strangling it.

"This, is the final trial of my Elite Promotion Trial. The other pair left had failed to take down the hecatoncheires within the 1-hour time limit, so it was mine and Vivi's turn." Galatea explained to the group. "You might recognize the other contestant and his partner."

The group looked to see the other three people on the scene. Sitting in a magical barrier cube, was a younger Jiemma sitting beside a young Minerva in her early twenties, both of them absolutely fuming. The third person was an older gentleman, probably in his late 60s. He was short, yet slightly taller than Makarov. He was bald, but had a small white goatee. His pale and freckled skin was wrinkled, and few moles dotted it.

"Is that, Jiemma and Minerva?" Bickslow asked, a little confused. "Wow, they look pissed!"

"Pissed! Pissed!"

"Yup, myself and Jiemma were the final contestants of the X787 Sabertooth Elite Promotion Trials." Galatea said.

The group watched in excitement as Memory-Galatea and Vivi continued to fight the hecatoncheires. The girls were making slow but steady progress, but the illuminated timer floating above the spectator's box continued to tick down. Part of them wondered exactly why this was being shone, since nothing seemed to be going wrong. Freed almost opened his mouth to ask the very question when he was cut off by a massive surge of power.