"….you want me to participate in the S-Class trials coming up?" Aelius said, annoyed and already tired. "Surely you realize how bad an idea it is for me to be there. You do realize whoever faces me will not pass, right? On principle alone."
"Yes, I know that," said Makarov, not even looking at him at first. The old master's eyes drifted across the guild hall like he was taking inventory of every reckless decision currently breathing under his roof. "But I also know that if someone passes because of you, then I'll know they've earned it. Besides, Gildarts is also participating, so no one will beat him."
That earned a faint scoff. "That's not a reassuring comparison," Aelius muttered.
It had been a week since the Juvia incident. The guild had settled back into its usual rhythm, if a little more subdued than normal. Not calm. Never calm. But steadier. Like a ship that had stopped rocking even though everyone still remembered the storm.
Juvia herself was fine. Technically. Alive. Recovering. Stable. Words like that. Words that meant she wasn't dead and therefore counted as a success. She was sitting across the hall now, wrapped in a blanket despite the warmth inside, a mug of something Porlyusica-approved cradled in her hands. The color had come back to her skin days ago, but she still looked thinner somehow. Not physically, but magically. Like something inside her had been hollowed out and was only now growing back.
She laughed at something someone said. Quietly, but genuinely.
Aelius noted that and looked away. A few of the guild members had taken it upon themselves to hover. Mostly Gajeel, which was both surprising and not. The Iron Dragon Slayer had stationed himself nearby like a particularly aggressive gargoyle, pretending not to watch her while very clearly watching her. Every time someone got too loud or too close, his eyes snapped in their direction. It was almost protective.
Gray was worse, though. Gray tried to pretend he wasn't hovering. That was the difference. He kept moving, kept doing things, kept talking to people like normal, but he never strayed far. Never out of line of sight. Every few minutes, his eyes flicked back toward her like a reflex he couldn't shut off. Aelius noticed that too. But didnt care enough to comment.
"When do we leave?" Aelius sighed. He would admit to at least wanting to go back to the island. It was an experience you couldn't really explain to someone who hadn't felt it. The air felt older there. But overall, it was beautiful.
"Tomorrow," Makarov replied. "You, Gildarts, Erza, and Mira will head there by boat. We'll arrive the day after. So think carefully about how you want to structure your path."
Aelius' jaw tightened slightly beneath the mask.
"Mira and I, trapped on a small boat," he muttered. "You really are cruel."
Makarov didn't even look guilty. "…Just deal with it, son. I'm not asking you to make up with her. Not yet."
"Good," Aelius said immediately. "Because that's not happening." Across the hall, Mira laughed at something Cana said, bright and effortless like always. She hadn't looked at him once during this conversation. Which was probably intentional.
Makarov sighed quietly. "You don't have to reconcile. You just have to coexist for a few hours without starting a war."
"That depends on her definition of coexist," Aelius replied flatly.
Makarov gave him a look. "You are not children."
"Debatable."
The old man ignored that. "You don't have to speak. You don't have to sit near each other. The boat is large enough."
"That's not reassuring."
"You've been on it before."
"That's not the problem."
Makarov studied him for a second longer than usual. "You're going back to Tenrou," he said, more quietly now. "Does that bother you?"
Aelius paused for a moment. "Do you mean does it bother me that I'm going to the place where the fall started? Where my years of effort paid off, resulting in my essential exile, and an action to take a quest that has ruined my life and caused permanent trauma, and actually killed me? No, why?" The words came out flat. Not angry or sarcastic, just laid out one after another like facts being read from a report. That almost made it worse.
Makarov, for his part, had the decency to look at least a little uncomfortable. "I was asking if you were prepared," he said carefully.
"…I don't blame a damn island if that's what you're asking," Aelius replied immediately. "I'm not going to destroy the place for simply being where the test was held. That would be idiotic." There was a faint edge to his voice now, not quite anger, but close enough to irritation that it showed. Makarov either hadn't trusted his answer or hadn't understood it, and Aelius clearly didn't appreciate either possibility. "Besides," he went on, "I actually liked the place. It's… breathtaking." The last word came out quieter than the rest, like it had slipped past before he could filter it. He shifted slightly, arms folding tighter across his chest.
"The scale alone is impressive," he continued, more firmly now, like he was correcting the tone back to something acceptable. "The density of magic in the air, the way it settles into the ground. You can feel it just standing there. Not wild exactly, but… old. Structured. Like it's been building for centuries." His jaw tightened faintly under the mask. "It's one of the few places where the ambient magic doesn't feel thin," he added. "Most places feel… used. Like something's been taken from them over time. Tenrou doesn't."
He glanced at Makarov. "So no," he said. "I'm not going to have some dramatic reaction to stepping on an island." Aelius exhaled slowly through his nose. "If anything," he muttered, "I'm looking forward to seeing it again." There was a pause before he added, more quietly, "Under better circumstances. And company, but I'll take it."
They went over the rest of it after that. Names, mostly. Who was participating, who wasn't, who might drop out at the last second once they realized what they were getting into.
Natsu, obviously. Gray. Cana. Juvia, if she felt up to it, which apparently she insisted she would be. Elfman. Fried. Levy, which genuinely surprised Aelius. He hadn't thought she was weak, not exactly, but S-Class trials were something else entirely. Either she'd improved more than he'd noticed, or she had something she hadn't shown yet.
And then Mest. That one meant nothing to him. Apparently, he'd been in the guild for years. Apparently, he'd helped on jobs. Apparently, people trusted him well enough that his name didn't raise any objections.
Aelius had never seen him once. Not in passing, not even during the usual chaos in the hall. He tried to picture the guy and came up with nothing. Which, honestly, was impressive in its own way.
"Why not Vanessa," Aelius asked eventually, "or the iron dragon… Gajeel, I think?"
Makarov didn't answer immediately, which meant there was an actual reason instead of just preference. "Vanessa's too new," he said at last. "Strong, yes, but the trials aren't just about strength. I want her to settle in first."
That made sense. So Aelius didn't comment on it.
"And Gajeel…" Makarov continued, trailing off slightly. "He's strong enough. More than strong enough. But some in the guild are still uneasy about him."
Aelius's eyes shifted slightly toward the far end of the hall, where Gajeel was sitting near Juvia's table, arms folded, pretending not to hover while very obviously hovering.
"I talked to him," Makarov went on. "He's content to wait until next year."
Aelius grunted faintly. That tracked. Gajeel didn't strike him as the kind to push into something like that if it meant dealing with a room full of people who still didn't trust him.
"Probably smarter anyway," Aelius muttered. "Less competition."
Makarov snorted quietly.
Aelius leaned back slightly in his chair. "And Mest?" he asked. "You trust him enough for this?"
"I do," Makarov said simply.
That was apparently the end of that.
Aelius didn't argue, but the name stayed filed away somewhere in the back of his mind. Not suspicion exactly. Just… absence. A blank space where there shouldn't be one. He pushed off the chair a moment later. "So tomorrow," he said.
"Tomorrow," Makarov confirmed.
Aelius sighed through his nose. "Wonderful," he muttered. "A boat ride with Strauss. Truly, this week just keeps improving." He left after that, early, if that was even something that applied to him. He came and went whenever he felt like it, and most people had just accepted that by now. No announcement, no goodbyes, no real reason given. One moment he'd be there, the next he wouldn't.
As he stepped out of the guild hall, he heard a few of them talking. Not loudly, not meant for him, but not exactly hidden either. Something about how he acted like he was a god. How he came and went as he pleased. How people moved out of his way when he walked past, as if it was expected. Something he admittedly did expect.
It wasn't arrogance, at least not how they meant it. It was just… efficient. People who didn't move got in the way, and he had no patience for weaving around bodies when a straight path existed. Most people had learned that eventually. The ones who didn't usually got brushed past hard enough to figure it out next time. Still. He couldn't say they were wrong.
He walked through Magnolia without really seeing it, hands in his pockets, mask still in place. The town had settled again after the incident, the usual rhythm returning as if nothing had happened. Shops were open. People talked. Kids ran through the streets like there wasn't a monster out there that could peel magic out of a person like skin.
The next day, early in the morning, he and the other S-class mages boarded the boat. It wasn't packed. Actually, it was a pretty nice boat, all things considered. Solid wood, clean deck, enough space that no one was forced shoulder to shoulder. Someone in the guild had either spent good money on it or knew someone who did. Either way, it wasn't the kind of cramped fishing vessel he half expected.
The trip itself was just under three hours long. Which meant he had to sit quietly and hope, pray, that Mira wouldn't try to talk to him. He figured it would actually be pretty easy. The demon mage had barely tried to interact with him since his return. A few looks here and there. Once or twice, like she'd wanted to say something. But she never had. Not really.
Fine by him. Aelius picked a spot near the side of the boat, far enough from the center that conversation would have to be intentional. He leaned back against the railing, arms crossed, mask in place, watching Magnolia shrink into the distance.
The water rocked gently beneath the boat, soft waves tapping against the hull in a slow, steady rhythm. The kind that made it easy to drift if you let it. The sky was clear, the air warm without being stifling, and the breeze carried just enough salt to sting faintly in the nose.
It should have been relaxing. And for the first half of the trip, it had been.
Erza and Mira sat near the bow, speaking quietly. Not whispering exactly, but low enough that the words blended into the sound of the water. Gildarts was stretched out along the side of the boat like a man who had fully committed to the idea of being unconscious, one arm dangling loosely over the edge, an empty bottle rolling lazily near his hand every time the boat shifted.
Aelius sat a bit apart from the rest of them, back against the inner railing, one leg bent with the book resting against his knee. It was something he'd picked up without really looking at it, some old thing with cracked binding and dense text. He hadn't even checked the title. It didn't matter. It was something to occupy his eyes, something to keep his mind busy.
The boat creaked softly beneath them. The pages turned slowly under his fingers. It was peaceful and honestly enjoyable.
"I'm sorry."
"…and it's ruined," Aelius muttered immediately, not even looking up. His eyes moved back over the line his brain had skipped, rereading it automatically, though he hadn't absorbed a single word of it the first time. The letters blurred slightly before settling back into focus. He already knew who'd spoken. He didn't need to look to confirm it.
"You don't have to acknowledge me," Mira said quietly. "Or forgive me. But I'm sorry, Aelius. For what I said… what I did."
The words slipped out of him before he could stop them. "Sorry means less than nothing," he said flatly. "It kinda loses the feeling when you wait till after the person you apologized to dies." The book closed with a dull thump against his lap.
He looked up. His eyes were narrow behind the mask, not wide with anger, not wild, just tight and sharp and very awake. Focused entirely on her. For a moment, the only sound was the water. "You don't get to do that," he said. "You don't get to say sorry like that fixes it."
Mira didn't look away. To her credit, she didn't flinch either. "I know," she said.
"That wasn't rhetorical."
"I know."
His fingers tightened slightly against the cover of the book. "You said it," he continued. "You meant it. And then I died. That's the order of events. That's how it happened." His head tilted slightly. "You don't get to rewrite that because you feel bad now."
Erza had gone completely still a few feet away. But she hadn't interrupted yet, likely because Mira asked her not to.
Mira swallowed once, but her voice didn't shake when she spoke again. "I don't expect it to fix anything."
"Good," Aelius said immediately. "Because it doesn't."
The boat rocked slightly harder for a moment, a wave passing underneath. The loose bottle near Gildarts rolled a few inches, then settled again.
"You said I deserved it," Aelius went on. "Remember that? That whatever happened to me was my own fault." His head tilted the other direction now. "Do you still believe that?"
"No."
The answer came immediately, with no hesitation. That made something flicker behind his eyes. "No?" he repeated.
"No," she said again. "I was angry. And I said something cruel."
"You said something honest," he corrected.
"No," she said quietly. "I didn't."
Aelius watched her for a long moment, silent. The breeze shifted slightly, tugging at his hair, stirring the edge of his coat. "You waited a long time," he said finally.
"Yes."
"Why now?"
Mira hesitated. Just for a second. Her fingers tightened slightly in her lap before she answered. "With… Lisanna back," she said quietly, "the only other regret I have is… that day. I want to be clear. To fix… everything."
Aelius's eyes narrowed. "So you're not actually sorry," he said, voice edged in sarcasm. "You just want to be able to look your sister, that you killed, or well, close enough, in the eyes and say you and the other person she calls big brother are even. Is that it? Lie again."
Mira flinched like he'd slapped her. The words hit fast and sharp, and for a second, she didn't answer. The boat rocked gently under them, water tapping against the hull in a slow rhythm that filled the silence. Ezra had gone quiet, too. Even Gildarts shifted a little in his sleep, though he didn't wake.
"That's not—" Mira stopped herself, breath catching. She tried again, quieter. "No. That's not it."
Aelius tilted his head slightly, watching her through the mask. Waiting.
"I am sorry," she said. "I was sorry before Lisanna came back. I just… didn't know how to face you. And then you were gone. And then…" Her hands tightened in her lap. "And then you were dead."
"You think I'm doing this for me," she continued. "Maybe part of me is. I won't lie about that. I do want to be able to look my family in the eye. But that's not why I'm here right now." She shook her head. "I'm here because I hurt you. Because I said things I can't take back. Because I helped push you into something that nearly destroyed you."
"Nearly?" Aelius asked flatly.
Mira swallowed. "…Destroyed you."
Aelius leaned back slightly, the wood of the boat creaking under the shift. His fingers tapped once against the cover of the book before going still. "And you think saying sorry fixes that."
"No," she said immediately. "I know it doesn't."
"Good." The word came out sharp, instinct more than anything. Another stretch of quiet followed. The kind that pressed in on the ears. "You said you wanted to fix everything," Aelius said finally. "That's not possible. Not even with magic. Not even with Zeref-level nonsense. What happened happened. You said what you said. I left. I died. End of story."
Mira nodded faintly, eyes down. "I'm not asking to fix it," she said. "I just… don't want it left like that."
Aelius let out a slow breath through his nose."That day," he said, voice quieter now, "you looked me in the eye and called me a monster."
Mira squeezed her eyes shut.
"You said the guild would be better off without me. That I was dangerous. That I didn't belong there anymore." His fingers curled slightly against the book. "And the worst part is you weren't even the only one thinking it."
"I went on that quest," he continued, "half because I thought it would help people, and half because I figured if I didn't come back it would solve everyone's problem."
Mira didn't move, tears dripping from her shut eyes, her whole body trembling. But Aelius didn't stop.
"I came back, the day I knew I was going to die, just to say goodbye. Or at least let someone know I didn't just… disappear."
His voice stayed level. Controlled. That almost made it worse.
"I walked in and took care of your problem, but before that. You. Of all people had the gall to beg me for help. Not even five minutes, and you had the audacity." His lip curled faintly beneath the mask. "You could've tried to apologize then. I would have rejected it then, just like now."
Mira's hands clenched in her lap, but she didn't interrupt.
"None of this is because you actually want to, Mirajane," he went on. "You just don't want to have to explain. You don't want Lisanna realizing what you did. You want this swept under the rug so you can pretend it didn't happen. So you can avoid the problems you caused."
Aelius stood abruptly, the motion sharp enough to rock the boat slightly. The book slid from his lap and dropped into the water with a soft splash, pages already beginning to soak and curl as it drifted away. He didn't even glance at it.
He stood over her now, looming, the mask hiding most of his face but doing nothing to hide the anger in his eyes. "You spent years helping me," he said. "Training with me. So I could exist without—" he gestured sharply at himself, at the mask and cloak, "—this."
His hand dropped, clenching at his side. "We spent so much time together that your sister's favorite jokes weremarriage jokes. Remember that? Every time we walked into a room together." A humorless sound escaped him. "Guess she thought it was funny."
Mira's shoulders shook harder.
"And once all that finally fucking paid off," he continued, voice rising now, "once I got S-Class, once I could actually breathe without killing or rotting, once I could stand in the guild without people staring like I was about to drop dead—"
He jabbed a finger toward her. "You told me to fuck off."
She flinched like she'd been struck.
"You told me my magic was a joke," he went on. "That it wouldn't save anyone. That it'd kill them before it saved them." His breathing had gone uneven now, years of restraint cracking open. "Do you have any idea what that meant? Coming from you?" Silence except for the water against the boat. "Not some random guild member. Not someone who barely knew me." His voice dropped, quieter but sharper. "You."
Mira's lips parted, but she still couldn't speak.
"You knew exactly how hard that was," he said. "You were there for all of it. Every failure. Every time it went wrong. Every time I had to start over." His hand trembled slightly before he forced it still. "You watched me claw my way to something resembling normal. And the second I got there, the second it mattered, you tore it down like it was nothing."
"So why are you crying?" Aelius snarled, stepping forward. "Your life wasn't ruined. You didn't lose all trust in the word friend and watch the people who tried to fix you die, one by one."
Mira flinched as he closed the distance, but she didn't move away. Didn't defend herself. Didn't even try to argue. That just made it worse.
"You're still here," he went on, voice rough and sharp. "Still in the guild. Still surrounded by people who care about you. You didn't get dragged through hell and told it was your fault for surviving it."
His hands trembled at his sides, fingers curling into fists. "You didn't have to learn real fast that 'friend' just means 'temporary.' That if you wait long enough, they either leave, die, or decide you're not worth the trouble."
Mira's shoulders shook harder.
"You don't get to cry like this happened to you," he said, quieter but meaner. "You don't get to act like you're the victim here."
Her voice came out barely above a whisper. "I'm not—"
"Then stop," he snapped.
She did. Or tried to. The tears didn't.
Aelius let out a sharp breath through his nose, jaw tight. "I buried people," he said. "People who actually tried to help me. People who didn't look at me like I was broken wrong. And they died anyway." His voice dipped, uneven for just a second before he forced it steady again.
Mira's hands clenched in her skirt. "I didn't know," she whispered.
"You didn't try to know," he shot back immediately. That one landed. She folded in on herself slightly. "You decided what I was," he continued. "What my magic was. What I was worth. And that was it. Years of knowing me and you boiled it down to one sentence."
He leaned forward slightly, just enough to loom. "A joke."
Mira squeezed her eyes shut.
"And now you're crying," he said. "Now you're sorry. Now you want to fix things." He shook his head slowly. "You don't get to fix this." The boat creaked softly around them, the only sound for a few seconds besides Mira's uneven breathing. "You want to know the worst part?" he said finally.
She didn't answer.
"I would've died thinking you were right," he said.
That made her look up.
"If it had ended properly," he went on. "If I hadn't come back. If things had just… finished." His hand twitched faintly at his side. "I would've died thinking the one person who helped me control it thought it was worthless."
Her face crumpled.
"So no," he said, voice flattening out again. "I don't really care if you're sorry." Another pause. "And I definitely don't care if you cry about it." He straightened slightly, turning just enough to break direct eye contact. "You're still here," he said. "You still get to live your life. You still get your family. Your guild. Your second chances."
His hand tightened into a fist again. "I have to fight for that, so forgive me for wanting to cut the blight from my life this time," he walked past her, heading to the lower deck, "after all, I have experience in what you do to those who fight to be normal."