By the time Magnolia came into view, Alastor had decided walking was a terrible invention.
Not roads.
Not traveling.
Walking.
Specifically, walking while bruised, underfed, half-healed, and carrying the kind of exhaustion that settled inside bones instead of muscles.
The town rose beneath the afternoon sun, its rooftops clustered around streets filled with people who moved as if the world had never been made of chains.
Alastor felt a sharp twist of envy.
Then shame followed it.
Zestial walked beside him with one hand on the strap of his borrowed pack.
Whenever Zestial reached inward, he could still sense the Palico—a distant point of blue-white warmth resting somewhere beyond his magic.
But Scout hadn’t returned.
Not during their recovery in Saltwick.
Not while Mara and Tomas escorted the four older children toward the inland shelter.
Not during the journey to Magnolia.
Zestial didn’t know how to call him back.
He didn’t know whether trying would help Scout or drag him into another unstable manifestation.
So he waited.
He hated waiting.
Erza walked ahead of them.
Not far.
Never too far.
A clean bandage covered her ruined right eye.
Brina had replaced it before they left Saltwick and given Zestial enough cloth and medicine to change it during the journey.
Erza’s steps remained steady, but her shoulders were too stiff.
She watched every doorway and side street as if open spaces could become prison corridors without warning.
Alastor noticed.
He didn’t mention it.
None of the other rescued children were with them.
Seven had stayed in Saltwick.
The remaining four had gone inland with Mara and Tomas.
Leaving them had hurt.
It had also been the right decision.
The children needed food, shelter, healers, and adults who could give them stability.
Erza needed Fairy Tail.
So did the brothers.
Rob had made sure of that with his last breath.
Magnolia grew busier as they entered.
People looked at them.
Of course they did.
Three children in borrowed clothes, too thin and still bruised, with a bloodstained bandage covering one girl’s eye, weren’t exactly subtle.
Alastor stared back until most people found something else to examine.
Zestial sighed.
“Stop threatening civilians with your face.”
“I’m not threatening anyone.”
“You’re glaring.”
“This is my resting face.”
“It wasn’t before.”
“It is now.”
Erza glanced back.
“Both of you, stop.”
Alastor looked offended.
“I wasn’t doing anything.”
“You were making people nervous.”
“That was his face,” Zestial said.
Alastor pointed at him.
“Snitch.”
For half a second, Erza’s mouth moved.
Not quite a smile.
Then she faced forward again.
The Fairy Tail guild hall stood near the center of Magnolia.
The building was larger than Alastor expected.
Not grand.
Not elegant.
Lived in.
The guild emblem above the entrance struck something inside his memories.
He remembered seeing it on pages, screens, and old conversations from another life.
Now it was real.
Zestial stopped beside him.
Erza stood at the bottom of the steps.
Her hand disappeared into the folds of her borrowed coat and emerged holding Rob’s old token.
The Fairy Tail emblem had worn smooth around the edges.
She stared at it.
Alastor waited.
Zestial did too.
Neither brother pushed her.
Erza climbed the steps.
She opened the doors.
Noise struck them.
Arguments.
Laughter.
Breaking wood.
Someone shouting about money.
Someone else insisting that a chair had attacked first.
A dark-haired boy stood on a table with ice covering one hand.
A brown-haired girl sat nearby, holding several cards and watching the argument like she’d already calculated how to profit from it.
An older guild member ducked beneath a flying mug.
“Gray!
Get off the table!”
“I didn’t start it!”
The brown-haired girl looked at the broken chair.
“You froze its legs.”
“It was unstable.”
“You made it unstable.”
“That’s not the point!”
Every voice stopped when Erza entered.
The silence spread from the doors to the bar.
Faces turned toward them.
Erza froze.
Alastor nearly backed into Zestial.
Too many people.
Too many exits to watch.
Too many unknown hands.
Zestial moved closer to his brother without touching him.
A small figure stood atop the bar.
Makarov Dreyar looked much as the brothers remembered.
Short.
White-haired.
Older than anyone else in the room.
His presence filled the hall despite his size.
His gaze moved across the three children.
It stopped on Erza’s bandage.
Then on the bruises around Alastor’s neck.
Then on the half-healed cuts covering Zestial’s hands.
Makarov climbed down.
“Welcome to Fairy Tail.”
Erza didn’t answer.
Makarov stopped several paces away.
He didn’t approach further.
“What can we do for you?”
Her fingers tightened around Rob’s token.
“He told us to come here.”
“Who did?”
Erza held out the token.
Makarov saw the emblem.
His expression changed.
He crossed the remaining distance slowly and accepted it.
The guild remained silent.
Makarov turned the token over.
There was a small mark scratched into the back.
His thumb stopped over it.
“Rob.”
Erza’s left eye filled with tears.
“You knew him?”
Makarov’s voice softened.
“He was family.”
The word struck all three children.
Erza looked down.
“He’s dead.”
Makarov closed his eyes.
No one in the guild moved.
“How?” he asked.
Erza’s mouth opened.
Jellal’s threat tightened around the truth.
Tell no one.
Return with help and everyone dies.
She looked toward Alastor and Zestial.
Zestial answered carefully.
“He died protecting us from a magical attack.”
“Where?”
“We can’t tell you.”
Several guild members shifted.
Makarov didn’t.
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Both.”
“Are people still in danger?”
Zestial’s throat tightened.
“Yes.”
“Would sending help put them in greater danger?”
“Yes.”
Makarov studied him.
“You’re certain?”
“No,” Zestial admitted.
“But the person holding them wants outsiders involved.
Any obvious rescue attempt would give him an excuse to hurt the prisoners or move them somewhere harder to find.”
Erza looked at him.
That wasn’t the entire truth.
It was enough of it.
Makarov looked at Alastor.
“Do you agree?”
Alastor hated the question.
“Yes.”
“Do you know where you came from?”
“Yes.”
“Can you safely tell me?”
“No.”
Makarov looked at Erza last.
She held his gaze.
“They’ll die if I tell anyone.”
The guild master became very still.
“Who told you that?”
Erza’s lips trembled.
She couldn’t answer.
Makarov nodded slowly.
“I won’t force you.”
Relief struck her so sharply that her knees weakened.
Alastor caught her elbow.
She almost pulled away.
Then didn’t.
Makarov looked around the hall.
“These children need food, water, medical treatment, and somewhere quiet.”
The guild erupted into motion.
Too quickly.
Erza raised her sword.
Alastor’s claws flashed into existence.
Zestial reached for magic that barely answered.
Everyone stopped again.
Makarov lifted one hand.
“One person at a time.”
The brown-haired girl stood.
“I’ll get food.” Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
The dark-haired boy jumped down from the table.
“I’ll get blankets.”
Makarov looked at the ice covering his hand.
“No freezing them.”
“I know.”
The boy hurried away.
The brown-haired girl approached slowly.
“I’m Cana.”
Erza watched her.
Cana pointed toward herself.
“Cana.”
Then she pointed at the kitchen.
“Food.”
Alastor leaned toward Zestial.
“Advanced diplomacy.”
“It’s working.”
Cana heard him.
“I can also throw cards.”
“Extremely advanced diplomacy.”
Her mouth twitched.
She left for the kitchen.
Makarov gestured toward an empty table near the wall.
“You can sit there.
No one will block the doors.”
Erza looked at him sharply.
He’d noticed.
Of course he had.
They sat.
Food arrived.
Soup.
Bread.
Water.
Alastor stared at the meal.
“What’s wrong?” Cana asked.
“Nothing.”
“Then eat.”
He picked up the bread.
Zestial took it from him.
“Slowly.”
“I’m hungry.”
“That’s why you need to eat slowly.”
“You’ve become tyrannical.”
“You were sick the last time.”
“We don’t discuss the beach incident.”
Cana sat across from them.
“What beach incident?”
“There wasn’t one.”
Zestial dipped a small piece of bread into the soup and handed it back.
“Eat.”
Alastor obeyed.
Erza still hadn’t touched anything.
Cana didn’t tell her to.
She broke a piece from her own bread and ate it first.
Then she leaned back.
Erza watched.
After several seconds, she lifted her spoon.
The dark-haired boy returned with blankets.
He placed them on the edge of the table rather than handing them directly to anyone.
“I’m Gray.”
Alastor looked at his clothes.
“You’re wearing a shirt.”
Gray frowned.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
Alastor glanced at Zestial.
Zestial shook his head.
“Nothing.”
Gray looked between them.
“You two are weird.”
“You froze a chair.”
“It deserved it.”
Alastor nodded.
“I like him.”
Gray looked uncertain whether that was a compliment.
Makarov joined them after they’d eaten enough to stop shaking.
He placed Rob’s token on the table.
“What are your names?”
“Erza.”
“Alastor.”
“Zestial.”
Makarov looked between the brothers.
“You’re related.”
Alastor smiled.
“How could you tell?”
“You watch the room while he watches you.”
Both brothers went quiet.
Makarov turned toward Erza.
“You traveled together?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have somewhere else to go?”
Erza looked at Rob’s token.
“No.”
Makarov looked at the brothers.
Alastor answered.
“No.”
“Then you may stay here while you recover.”
Alastor glanced around the guild.
“That easy?”
“No.”
His smile vanished.
Makarov continued.
“Staying means rules.
You’ll help with chores.
You’ll train safely.
You won’t take jobs without permission.
You won’t use magic against guild members unless you’re training under supervision.”
Gray raised his hand.
“What if they start it?”
“Especially then.”
Gray lowered his hand.
Alastor leaned toward Zestial.
“He sounds reasonable.”
“That worries you?”
“Deeply.”
Makarov heard him.
“I can become unreasonable.”
Alastor sat straighter.
“Comforting.”
Erza touched Rob’s token.
“Is staying the same as joining?”
Makarov looked at her.
“No.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Joining means Fairy Tail becomes responsible for you.”
Erza’s expression tightened.
“I don’t need anyone responsible for me.”
“Everyone needs someone.”
“No.”
Makarov didn’t argue.
“Joining also makes you responsible for Fairy Tail.”
Erza looked around the hall.
At Cana pretending not to watch.
At Gray openly watching.
At the guild members who’d kept their distance after being asked.
“What would we have to tell you?”
“Your names.”
“That’s all?”
“For today.”
“What about where we came from?”
“When you can safely speak, I’ll listen.”
“And if we never can?”
Makarov’s gaze remained steady.
“Then we’ll work with what you can give us.”
Erza’s hand curled around the token.
“I want to join.”
Makarov nodded.
He looked at Alastor.
“Me too.”
Then Zestial.
Zestial hesitated.
The warmth inside his magic stirred.
Scout.
His unfinished connection.
A person he’d left behind because his magic had failed.
“If I join, can you help me understand my magic?”
“I can try.”
“That isn’t a promise.”
“No.”
Zestial looked at his brother.
Alastor smiled faintly.
At Erza.
She waited.
Then at the open guild doors.
“I’ll join.”
Makarov brought out the magical stamp.
Erza chose a blue guild mark on her upper left arm.
Alastor chose dark red on his right shoulder.
Zestial chose blue-white on his left forearm.
When the stamp touched his skin, the distant warmth inside his magic moved.
Zestial gasped.
Makarov pulled the stamp away.
“What happened?”
“The connection.”
“What connection?”
Zestial placed his hand over his chest.
“I left someone behind.”
Alastor’s expression changed.
“Scout?”
Zestial nodded.
Makarov sat across from him.
“Tell me.”
“He appeared when we needed a guide.
A Palico.”
Gray blinked.
“A what?”
“An armored cat,” Alastor said.
“Palico,” Zestial corrected automatically.
Cana leaned closer.
“You summoned a talking cat?”
“Only Alastor and I could understand him.”
“Could?”
“He disappeared when I ran out of magic.”
Makarov’s eyes sharpened.
“Did you feel him die?”
“No.”
“Did the connection vanish?”
“No.”
“Then you probably didn’t create him.”
“What?”
“A magical construct usually collapses with the spell that formed it.
If the connection remains, your magic may have reached an existing being.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“Can I bring him back?”
“Can you still feel him?”
“Yes.”
Makarov moved the table aside and drew a simple circle on the floor with chalk.
“This won’t summon him.
It’ll help you focus.”
Zestial entered the circle.
“What do I do?”
“Don’t command him.”
Zestial looked up.
“Invite him.”
The guild gathered at a respectful distance.
Zestial closed his eyes.
He found the blue-white warmth.
Not armor.
Not a weapon.
Not a tool waiting to be selected.
Someone.
“Scout.”
The warmth moved.
“You saved those children.
You stayed when I couldn’t.”
Magic gathered around Zestial’s hands.
“I don’t know where you went, but if you can hear me…”
His voice faltered.
“I’d like you to come back.”
Nothing happened.
Alastor moved closer.
“Give him time.”
The circle flashed.
A small armored shape dropped onto the floor.
Scout landed on all four paws.
Its helmet slipped over its eyes.
For one second, nobody moved.
Scout pushed the helmet up.
“Meowster?”
Everyone else heard a confused meow.
Zestial dropped to his knees.
“You’re alive.”
Scout planted its paws on its hips.
“Of course I’m alive.”
Zestial pulled the Palico into his arms.
Scout stiffened.
Then slowly hugged him back.
“I’m sorry.”
“Purr-haps warn me next time.”
Alastor crouched beside them.
“You missed me.”
Scout looked at him.
“No.”
Alastor grinned.
“I missed you too.”
Gray stared.
“It’s talking?”
“To us,” Alastor said.
Scout pointed toward Gray.
“Why is the cold child undressing?”
Everyone turned.
Gray’s shirt was gone.
He looked down.
“When did that happen?”
Alastor laughed so hard his ribs hurt.
“I knew it!”
Zestial wiped his eyes before anyone could decide whether he was laughing or crying.
Makarov approached Scout.
The Palico’s paw moved toward its sword.
Zestial released him.
“It’s okay.
This is Makarov.
He’s Fairy Tail’s master.”
Scout studied the old man.
“Mrrp.”
Makarov looked at Zestial.
“What did he say?”
“He said you’re small.”
Alastor covered his mouth.
Scout continued.
“And dangerous.”
Zestial added, “He also said you’re dangerous.”
Makarov smiled.
“Smart creature.”
“Palico,” Scout corrected.
Makarov only heard a firm meow.
“I’m told you saved these children.”
Scout lowered his head.
“Not enough.”
Zestial translated quietly.
Makarov understood the tone.
“No,” he said.
“Never enough.
But that doesn’t make it meaningless.”
Scout looked up.
Makarov held out the magical guild stamp.
“Would you like to join Fairy Tail?”
Scout looked at Zestial.
“Is this your new hunting guild?”
Zestial glanced around the hall.
At Erza.
At Alastor.
At Cana.
At Gray, who was trying to remember where he’d left his shirt.
At the doors that remained open.
“Yes.”
Scout considered his answer.
Then extended one armored gauntlet.
“Paw-sitively.”
Makarov placed a blue-white Fairy Tail emblem on the back of the gauntlet.
Magic passed through the mark.
The connection inside Zestial changed.
Before, it had felt like a door he was struggling to hold open.
Now it felt like a road.
Stable.
Two-way.
Scout inhaled sharply.
Blue-white light moved through his armor and settled beneath the guild mark.
Zestial stared.
“What happened?”
“The mark gave your connection an anchor,” Makarov said.
“Scout’s no longer relying entirely on your magic to remain here.”
“He won’t disappear if I run out?”
“Not under ordinary conditions.”
Scout looked down at his paws.
“I can feel this world now.
The air.
The magic.”
Zestial translated.
Makarov nodded.
“He’ll draw from the ethernano around us and whatever magic belongs to him naturally.
You’ll pay the cost of opening the path if he returns home, but you won’t have to sustain every breath.”
Scout’s stomach growled.
Everyone heard that.
Makarov smiled.
“He’ll also need food.”
Scout raised one paw.
“Preferably fish.”
Zestial looked toward the kitchen.
“He wants fish.”
Cana stood.
“Finally, a reasonable guild member.”
Gray found his shirt under the table.
“Why does the cat get fish?”
“Palico,” Scout and Zestial corrected.
Alastor leaned back.
“This feels right.”
Erza looked around the guild.
The noise had returned.
Not all at once.
Quiet conversations.
Chairs moving.
Someone laughing near the bar.
No chains.
No locked doors.
Makarov looked at the bandage covering her right eye.
“We still need to deal with your injury.”
Erza stiffened.
“Brina treated it.”
“She kept it clean.
That isn’t the same as repairing the damage.”
“You know someone?”
Makarov’s expression became tired.
“Unfortunately.”
“Is she a healer?”
“The best one nearby.”
“Will she help?”
Makarov considered the question.
“She’ll complain.”
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
“Yes,” he said.
“She’ll help.”
Erza touched her bandage.
“What’s her name?”
“Porlyusica.”
Alastor and Zestial exchanged a look.
Another remembered name.
Another part of the story becoming real.
Makarov noticed.
“You know it?”
Alastor answered carefully.
“Rob mentioned her.”
Makarov looked at Rob’s old token.
Pain crossed his face.
“Then we’ll visit her tomorrow.”
Scout climbed onto Zestial’s shoulder.
This time, his weight felt real.
Not a spell waiting to end.
A person who’d chosen to return.
Erza touched the new guild mark on her arm.
Alastor did the same.
Fairy Tail hadn’t made them safe.
It hadn’t healed anything yet.
But the doors remained open.
For that night, it was enough.