Aelius had been having a peaceful day. Emphasis on had.
He was at his favorite cafe, the same small place tucked into the edge of town he visited with Nehzhar, who was masquerading as Caius. It was called the Fallen Leaf Cafe. It sat beneath a massive oak, its branches spreading wide over the roof, and every fall the place lived up to its name, leaves piling up faster than the staff could sweep them away. He came in, ordered his coffee plain, no sugar, and settled in with the intent of relaxing and, more importantly, avoiding the guild.
The Exceeds were gone now. Vanished the day prior, apparently having flown off into the forest to start a village of their own, good for them. He also hadn't been bothered by the council yet. Either they hadn't come, or they'd shown up while he was asleep and decided it wasn't worth waking him. Either way, no note, nor summons. Something he didn't mind.
Naturally, that meant fate decided to ruin it. Of all times. Of all people. Gildarts had to come back now. The man had been gone nearly as long as Aelius himself, and the moment his presence neared Magnolia, the Gildarts Shift began. The entire town trembled, buildings rattling, loose objects sliding and tipping as the invisible force rolled in like a warning tide.
Aelius sighed and stood, far calmer than most of the staff now scrambling to secure tables and shelves. To anyone else, this was a disaster alarm. To people who lived here, it was just another day. It was actually a warning for those who settled down in Magnolia. He finished the last of his coffee, set the mug on the counter, and slid it back to the barista, who waved him off with a tired smile as he stepped outside.
The shift had only just started. He had time before Gildarts actually entered town. Enough time to intercept him.
Aelius had once tried to be like Gildarts. Or maybe it was more accurate to say he admired him. If the man was still the same as he remembered, there were plenty of things Aelius didn't care for, but one thing stood out above all else. Gildarts didn't cling. Everything was just interesting to him, Fun, nothing stuck or festered. The man lacked the ability to care in the way that ruined people.
He reached the edge of the shift quickly. The boundary between Magnolia and the artificial canyon Gildarts carved into existence every time he returned. Aelius' own shift wasn't far off in nature, just more… quarantined. More wards, more containment. Built that way when he was younger, to keep his magic from leaking out and rotting everything around him.
Since this wasn't his shift, he didn't need to worry about any magic walls. He stepped forward and dropped. The fall carried him down into the canyon, stone walls towering around him. He landed lightly and turned his gaze back toward the guild hall in the distance. The doors stood wide open in preparation for the guild's ace.
For a moment, his mind betrayed him. He saw it ruined again, just like the day he returned. Cracked stone, shattered beams, the guild on its last legs. He remembered how he'd been dying then. Hell, how he did die that very day, and how he returned due to his curse.
He scoffed and turned away. They were already at the edge of town, so he waited. It didn't even take a full minute before Gildarts appeared, tattered cloak, relaxed grin, the ground still settling around him.
"Oh?" Gildarts said, laughing as he noticed him. "You must be new around here, man. This whole thing means you aren't supposed to be around me."
Aelius sighed and shook his head, pulling one sleeve of his cloak back to expose the guild mark on his forearm. "I'm Fairy Tail." That alone should have ended the line of questioning.
"Really?" Gildarts said, stepping closer. They fell into step beside each other without ceremony. "You join recently?"
"Something like that," Aelius replied.
So far, it was exactly what he expected. Gildarts didn't care about the mask. The mark was enough. And even if it hadn't been, the man was so confident in his own strength that it probably wouldn't have mattered. Enemy or not, he didn't carry himself like someone who worried.
"So," Gildarts said easily, glancing up at him, "mysterious member. Mind telling me your name?"
"You'll learn once we reach the guild," Aelius said. His eyes shifted, catching the way Gildart's cloak moved. The prosthetics were impossible to miss up close. "What happened to your arm. And your leg?"
The left arm and left leg, Magical replacements, crudely made, but enough to work. Whatever did that had to be monstrous. Even now, Aelius wasn't sure he could take the man in a straight fight. Matchups mattered. Against Makarov, he had better odds.
"Oh, this?" Gildarts said, lifting the artificial arm casually. "I'm sure I'll be repeating it a few times today. Lost them to a dragon. Natsu's gonna lose his mind when I tell him." He grinned. "Acnologia. If you recognize the name."
Aelius slowed a fraction. "You…" The word stalled out. Aelius was at a loss for words for once. He knew the name, but not the face, Acnologia, the black dragon. It had come up more than once in the Labyrinth, hell, the place was originally built to trap the thing for eternity. And Gildarts had walked away from it.
The man's strength hadn't changed. That much was obvious now. Aelius wasn't naive enough to think words ever did justice to monsters like that. If the Labyrinth had been built to contain Acnologia, then whatever power it held had to be absurd. And Gildarts had walked away from it, missing limbs, sure, but alive. That alone said more than any story ever would.
"So," Gildarts continued, easy as ever, hands tucked behind his head as they walked, "since you won't tell me your name, you seem pretty confident. Means you've got teeth. You must be S Class." He glanced sideways. "You're not Laxus. That kid refuses to hide. Which means you were probably promoted after I left."
Aelius let out a quiet breath through his nose. "Something like that," he repeated, because it was easier than explaining who he was and everything wrong with him.
"Figures," Gildarts said, nodding to himself. "Fairy Tail doesn't just spit out people like you by accident."
They kept walking. The guild hall was closer now, loud even from outside, the kind of noise that meant nothing had changed.
"You don't act like someone who cares about titles," Gildarts added after a moment. They were close to the hall now. Aelius could see people watching them from above the canyon, silhouettes leaning over railings, and more faces crowding the open doors of the guild. Curiosity, relief, and little awe. The usual mix.
"I don't," Aelius replied. "They don't stop anything." He paused, then added, almost offhand, "Here's a fun surprise for you. I'm also technically a Wizard Saint. Same rank as Master Makarov."
Gildarts let out a bark of laughter, loud and genuine. "Oh? I bet the council loved that." He glanced sideways at Aelius, grin still there. "Another Saint, huh. That's great. Means you've got to be pretty damn strong."
"Strong enough," Aelius said. "Mostly it just means whatever I'm required to fight can still hurt me." His eyes stayed forward. "Lost last week, actually."
That got a raised brow from Gildarts, not disbelief, just interest. "Yeah? Lose how?" The way he spoke reinforced Aelius's opinion more; there was no pity, weakness; the man was genuinely curious about how Aelius lost.
"Nearly died," Aelius said. "That's the metric I use."
Gildarts laughed again, shaking his head. "I like you already."
They slowed as they reached the edge of the canyon, the fractured ground stretching down between them and the guild hall. The noise from inside rolled out in waves. Familiar voices and chaos. Aelius felt oddly detached from it, like he was watching something he'd stepped out of rather than returned to.
Talking to Gildarts was easy. Easier than it had any right to be. Maybe because the man didn't know him. Didn't look at him like something fragile or dangerous or already halfway gone. To Gildarts, he was just another Fairy Tail wizard walking beside him, rank and rumors stripped down to something simple.
"GILDARTS IS BACK!" Aelius heard Natsu shout.
It wasn't morning, not even close, just past noon, but any time of day was apparently far too early for Natsu to be that loud. The shout echoed through the canyon and straight into the guild hall, followed almost immediately by a wave of noise. Chairs scraping, people leaning over railings, voices piling on top of each other.
"Why is Aelius with him?" someone said, not even trying to be quiet.
Unfortunately, he also caught Elfman's voice somewhere in the mess, loudly declaring that he and Gildarts together was the manliest thing in the world….. Whatever that was supposed to mean.
Gildarts finally seemed to hear his name over the chaos. He laughed, the sound rolling out easily, and without warning clapped a heavy hand against Aelius's back.
"Aelius? You're back?" Gildarts said, genuinely happy. "Hahaha, you've definitely made a name for yourself. Not the same kid from before, are you?"
Aelius stiffened on instinct the moment the hand landed. Gildarts's magic was always on, and because of that, always dangerous, and the man had never been known for restraint. Crush magic didn't care about Allies. For half a second, Aelius registered the impact as something that could have folded a lesser wizard in half.
Then nothing happened. Just a solid hit, enough to be annoying but not painful.
Aelius glanced down at himself, then back at Gildarts. "You know," he said flatly, "most people say hello without attempting involuntary manslaughter."
Gildarts laughed harder. "Hey, you're still standing. Means you're doing just fine."
They crossed the canyon together, the guild hall looming closer with every step, and there was no pretending he could slip in unnoticed. Too many eyes were on him. Some curious. Some wary. A few outright tense. He recognized most of them. They recognized him, too.
Gildarts stopped just short of the doors and stretched again, glancing around like he was taking in the whole scene for the first time. "Man," he said, "looks like I missed a lot."
"You have no idea," Aelius replied. He slowed, then turned just as they reached the threshold. "I'm leaving you to them. I'd say have fun, but you probably will."
It didn't work. An arm hooked around his shoulders before he could take a second step, heavy and solid, dragging him sideways and straight into the guild hall.
"What are you leaving for?" Gildarts said easily. "You're of drinking age now. We gotta get reacquainted, kid."
"I don't drink," Aelius said flatly, already knowing how pointless that statement was.
"That's quitter talk."
The doors swung wider as they crossed fully inside, and the noise hit him all at once. Fairy Tail at full volume, like nothing had ever gone wrong, cheers. Shouting, chairs scraping. Someone immediately yelled Gildart's name again, as if he hadn't noticed the walking natural disaster already standing in the middle of the room.
Aelius felt eyes lock onto him from every angle, some surprised, some wary, some outright uneasy. He caught Lucy's stare for half a second before she looked away. Wendy smiled, small and unsure. Erza watched him like she was cataloging damage, the way she always did. Natsu was already grinning like this was the best day of his life.
Gildarts waved broadly with his free hand. "Miss me?"
The response was deafening.
Aelius resisted the urge to groan. He should have expected this. Apparently, outside of combat, he was incapable of thinking ahead. Because of that failure, he could already feel it, the weight of attention pressing down on him, and worse, he could see it. The eyes he had wanted to avoid from the moment he stepped through the doors were already on him.
"Let go," Aelius muttered.
"Why?" Gildarts said easily. "Don't wanna hang around your friends?"
Before Aelius could answer, he was maneuvered, forced really, into a bar stool. The wood scraped loudly against the floor as Gildarts pushed him down with one hand. With the other, Gildarts reached behind the bar, grabbed a random bottle, and poured himself a drink without even checking what it was. Natsu lunged at him mid-pour, shouting something incoherent, only to be swatted aside without Gildart's even looking.
A glass slid across the counter toward Aelius. Also stolen.
".....Really?" Aelius sighed.
He stared at the glass for a moment, then flicked his wrist. The motion was more for show than necessity. Space warped subtly, and his flask dropped neatly into his palm from his requip space.
"I lied," he said calmly, lifting it. "Since you're forcing me to drink, and because I doubt I'll get out of here without having to fight at least someone, if I'm drinking, I'd rather it be something I can actually feel."
He flipped the lid open and took a swig beneath his mask, the liquid burning as it went down. Strong. It barely registered past the edges of everything else.
"Not like I can feel this anyway," he muttered.
Gildarts had apparently already finished his drink. One second, he was laughing, the next his arm was reaching across the bar, fingers closing in on Aelius's flask like it was a challenge.
Aelius reacted instantly. The flask was gone from Gildart's reach before his hand could close, pulled back and angled away in one smooth motion. Gildarts paused, eyebrow lifting as his mouth started to form whatever teasing comment he'd clearly been planning.
"No," Aelius said flatly. "What's in here will kill you. And everyone around us."
That got his attention. Gildarts slowly leaned back, hands lifting in surrender, though the grin never quite left his face. "That so?"
"Yes."
There was no exaggeration in Aelius's tone. The guild around them didn't notice the exchange, still too busy celebrating, arguing, shouting over one another. Natsu was demanding another story. Someone was trying to climb onto a table. Cana was already several drinks ahead of everyone else. Typical chaos.
Gildarts studied him a moment longer, the playful edge gone from his eyes, replaced with something sharper. "That's a hell of a thing to keep in a flask."
"You remember my magic?" Aelius asked, glancing sideways at him. At Gildarts' nod, he went on. "Same principle as Dragneel. He eats fire. I eat poison."
"Ah, right," Gildarts said, the pieces clicking together. "God Slayer. And you said you're a Saint now? Must be working out for you."
It was so easy, Aelius almost resented it. Gildarts talked to him like this was normal, like there wasn't a mask hiding half his face, like there weren't layers of wards and restraints humming under his skin, like he wasn't very deliberately pretending not to notice the weight of every eye in the room. Gildarts just… accepted it. Shrugged and rolled with it the way he did everything else.
Especially with those whispers. They were louder now, threading through the noise of the guild like static. Aelius could pick them apart without trying. Both of them came back from century quests. Who was stronger? And his personal favorite was whether he was corrupting Gildarts.
That one almost made him laugh. A part of him, a small and very honest part, liked that rumor a little too much. There was something satisfying about the idea that they thought he could twist someone like Gildarts just by standing next to him. That he was some kind of infection, quietly spreading. For a brief second, the urge rose to lean into it. To show them exactly what he was. To let something slip, just enough to make the air feel wrong around him.
But the moment passed, and it was drowned under a different shift in attention. Someone noticed the arm, then the leg, and just like that, Gildarts was no longer his problem, or his kidnapper.
The noise changed almost violently. Voices overlapping as people finally took in the magical prosthetics on Gildarts' left side. Shock, curiosity, and enough worry to kill someone. A few poorly hidden flashes of anger aimed at something far away.
Gildarts rolled his shoulder like he could feel the weight of their stares. "Guess I can't put this off anymore."
Aelius watched him for a second, then looked away, lifting his flask again. The burn grounded him, even if it did not really reach all the way through.
"Good luck," he said flatly.
Gildarts grinned. "You too, Saint."
Aelius didn't correct him. He turned away instead. He saw no point; by tomorrow, everyone would have filled Gildarts in anyway, and once that happened, the easy conversation would end, like it always did. Gildarts would try to help, and Aelius had learned the hard way that help usually came with expectations, questions, and hands reaching where they didn't belong. He'd rather cut it off now while it was still tolerable.
He rose from the stool, the weight of the room pressing in on him again. Somehow, the eyes were still on him, even with Gildarts standing there, missing half his limbs and having survived a dragon. It didn't matter. Attention clung to Aelius like honey. He could feel it crawling up his spine.
He took a step, then stopped. Small hands grabbed his arm. Instinct took over before thought had a chance to catch up. He wrenched his arm free, sharp and aggressively, not caring who it was for the split second it took.
"Don't touch me," he said. It wasn't loud, but it was Flat. The same tone he used when he didn't feel anything at all. His eyes snapped into their neutral state, empty and distant.
"Oh… uh… sorry… bi—Aelius." The voice stopped itself. Lisanna.... Lisanna was the one who had grabbed him.
He already knew what she had been about to say. Big brother, the word hit somewhere unpleasant, dredging up memories he hadn't asked for. Back when things were different. Back when he, Mira, Elfman, and Lisanna had been close, too close. Close enough that people joked he'd end up a Strauss by name once they got older. Close enough that Lisanna had started calling him that as a joke at first, then out of habit.
He scoffed, sharp and quiet, like the sound escaped before he bothered stopping it. So much for that future.
Aelius looked down at her. Really looked this time. Met her eyes instead of glancing past her shoulder like he had been. Whatever softness might have existed once was gone, worn thin by time and distance, so he answered the way he always did.
"What do you want?"
Lisanna didn't flinch. Didn't step back. That caught his attention more than her words ever could have. The old Lisanna would have folded the moment someone pushed back, but that girl had been gone for four years now. Dead for three of them. It made sense she wasn't the same.
"I wanted to talk…" she said quietly. "It's been a few years."
"You were dead for three of those," Aelius replied, finally turning fully toward her, cutting off the rest of the room. "And I was gone for four." His voice stayed flat. Practical. "Say what you want to say. It's too loud in here for pointless conversation."
She hesitated. Not much. Just enough to be noticeable.
"Can I come with you somewhere?" Lisanna asked, shoulders lifting in a small, unsure shrug. "Just so we can… catch up."
If it had been anyone else, he would have said no without a second thought. Would have walked away and let the noise swallow the moment whole. But in the two days since Edolas, Lisanna had already slid back into her place like she had never left. Guild caretaker. The easy smile. The one everyone liked.
If he shut her down completely, it wouldn't matter if she was fine with it. Someone else wouldn't be. He could already picture the looks, the whispers, the teeth behind friendly grins.
So he did what he always did. Minimized the damage. Combined problems instead of avoiding them. "No."
Her shoulders dropped immediately. There it was. But before she could say anything else, he continued.
"I know Makarov wants to talk to me," he said. "Tell him to come by later. You can join him."
Not a true invitation, but a compromise. Then he turned away, already done with the conversation, even as he knew this wasn't the last time she'd try.
He left quickly after. Didn't linger, didn't wait to see who might stop him. Magnolia had already settled back into something close to normal after Gildarts's return. Louder, sure, but not tense anymore. The kind of loud people liked.
He didn't have anything else scheduled for the day. No reason to stay near the guild. If he was being honest with himself, he didn't want to do anything at all. So he went home.
The walk through town was easy. People clustered in groups, talking over each other about Gildarts being back, about jobs he'd take, damage he'd cause, stories that were probably exaggerated already. Fewer eyes on Aelius than usual, which suited him fine. He passed through without anyone stopping him, without anyone calling his name.
By the time he reached the edge of the forest, it was just past noon. The noise of town faded behind him, replaced by wind through leaves and the crunch of dirt under his boots. The path to his house was narrow but familiar.
Nature and him didn't usually get along. His magic was built for endings, not growth, even if decay fed rebirth in the long run. Still, the forest didn't recoil from him today. It didn't stare. It didn't whisper or wait for explanations. It just existed, and that was enough.
He made it home without incident.
Once there, he started cleaning.
There wasn't a reason for it. That should have bothered him more than it did. He just needed to do something, anything, that required his hands but not his thoughts. He checked the wards first, slow and methodical, confirming what he already knew. Then he swept the leaves from the deck, brushed dust from shelves that didn't need it, and straightened things that were already straight. He moved through the motions on autopilot.
And just like that, he was done. Aelius stood still, broom in hand, the quiet settling back in like it had been waiting its turn. He glanced toward the sun, expecting more time to have passed. It hadn't. Barely any, really.
So much for keeping busy.
The silence crept back into his head, uninvited, dragging everything with it. The guild. Lisanna's voice. The way Gildarts had looked at him, like he was something solid and real. The mirror, the fear, the death, the destruction. He set the broom aside and leaned against the railing, staring out at the lake. The water was still, too still, the kind that reflected him in fragments, broken by ripples and light, never quite whole.
His fingers twitched, magic stirring reflexively before he forced it down.
"Get a grip," he muttered to no one, shaking his head.
He would have guests later. He already knew how that would go. Questions, concerns, and followed by sad looks, people thought he wouldn't notice. These conversations always followed the same pattern, no matter who started them.
The thought pulled another one loose.
He'd said it often enough. That he would fix himself. That he knew what was wrong, knew where the fractures were, what needed to change. He'd even laid it all out in his head more times than he could count.
And yet he hadn't done anything.
Aelius looked down at his gloved hands. He hated hypocrites, hated empty words, hated promises made just to ease guilt. The realization sat heavy in his chest. Whether he liked it or not, whether he wanted to deal with it or not, he was one.
Makarov would notice. The old man always did. And once he did, he would not let it go. He'd hover, prod, pull others into it until Aelius was cornered by concern he never asked for.
He exhaled slowly, then turned and went back inside.
From his requip space, he pulled something he rarely touched. Something he usually avoided, and set it carefully on the mantle above the fireplace.
A photograph. Aelius, a few years younger, no mask, his hood was down. His skin was pale, his eyes already hollowed out at the edges. At the time the picture had been taken, his magic was killing him. Slow, but steadily. And even then, it wasn't the worst he would ever look.
His right arm was wrapped in bandages, hiding the blackened veins beneath, the creeping necrosis that had already started to take hold. His arm was slung around another man.
Alaric. Black hair, shaggy and uneven, the tips dyed green from a lost bet Aelius had never let him forget. Brown eyes, bright and alive in a way that hurt to look at now. Both of them were smiling. Actually smiling.
A better time, and hopefully one he would be able to return to.