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The sky above the mountains was gray with winter fog, and silence pressed thick upon the peaks. Time seemed to move slower now, as if the wind itself mourned something lost. Fafnir stood at the edge of a stone outcrop, arms folded, watching the clouds drift below like waves. The search for Erza had ended years ago in failure but its wound was still fresh.
Behind him, Irene sat near the hearth, legs tucked beneath her. The golden light of a fire reflected off her crimson robes. She was quieter now, more reserved. No longer the haughty Queen of Dragons only a mother with too many regrets.
They had stopped looking, but they had not stopped feeling.
Suddenly, a ripple tore through the enchantments cloaking their hidden sanctuary.
Irene rose instantly, magic flaring at her fingertips. "Fafnir," she said tightly.
He had already activated his magic before a dark-cloaked figure stepped out of the distortion in space. The man's face was young, but his eyes his eyes were older than death.
Zeref.
They didn't attack, but neither lowered their guard.
"Zeref Dragneel," Irene said coldly. "This is a bold visit."
Zeref raised a hand in peace, his voice calm. "I come with information. And a request."
"We don't owe you anything," Fafnir growled, dragon-like power simmering under his skin. "You'll get no help from us."
Zeref nodded. "Perhaps. But I thought you might want to know where Erza is."
That made the fire flicker. Literally.
Irene's expression shattered in an instant. "What… did you say?"
"She escaped the Tower of Heaven," Zeref said softly. "And she lives."
The room shifted with the sudden force of Irene's magic flaring around her like a storm, but Fafnir placed a steady hand on her shoulder, anchoring her.
"Tell us everything," he said, golden eyes locked on Zeref.
Zeref spoke slowly. "The Tower of Heaven was built by cultists who sought to use its core to resurrect me. I did not ask for it, nor support it. But it became one of the many dark remnants of my curse."
"And you let it exist?" Irene spat.
"I couldn't reach it… not then. It was cloaked in powerful enchantments ancient ones I myself placed long ago, to hide it from Acnologia. I didn't know Erza was taken there until recently. But she escaped. She's free now."
Fafnir's chest tightened. "She's alive… and free?"
Zeref nodded. "She's changed her name. She no longer calls herself Belserion."
Irene's breath caught in her throat. "What… what name did she choose?"
Zeref hesitated only briefly.
"Scarlet. Erza Scarlet."
Irene turned away. She clutched her arms tightly, eyes glassy with emotion. "She knew my name," she said quietly. "She had it engraved in a locket. I left it with her when I..." her voice broke. "She chose a new name… to forget me."
"She hasn't forgotten you," Zeref said gently. "But she's angry. Fairy Tail found her. Took her in. Gave her a new family."
Fafnir's fists clenched. "Fairy Tail?"
Zeref nodded. "Makarov's guild. Natsu is there too."
That was another blow. Fafnir turned away, staring into the fire, jaw tight.
"Natsu… Is he well?"
Zeref gave a small nod. "Healthy. Strong. But he doesn't remember you. The Dragon Seed within him sleeps. Just like Wendy."
Fafnir closed his eyes. It was one thing to suspect it another to have it confirmed.
"I'm not ready to face him again," he said quietly. "Not if he looks at me and sees a stranger."
Zeref walked toward the hearth but didn't sit. His tone shifted more focused, more precise.
"I've come to ask for something more. Your help."
Fafnir turned slowly. "Help with what?"
"Acnologia," Zeref said. "He grows stronger. My time is running short. Anna Heartfilia and I... perhaps you remember her, Fafnir, have crafted a plan using the Eclipse Gate. A way to trap him in a time rift."
"I know the Gate," Fafnir said. "I helped protect it when it was still theory."
"Then you know how delicate the plan is," Zeref continued. "But the problem is not the Gate it's timing. We need support, precision. I need people I can trust to control the battlefield when the moment comes."
"And why would we help you?" Irene asked, bitterly. "You let my daughter be stolen. You speak of trust?"
Zeref's eyes met hers haunted, but firm.
"Because this is about more than vengeance. It's about protecting what little hope remains. Erza is safe for now. But if Acnologia wins, no one will be."
Fafnir and Irene were silent.
"I offer no lies," Zeref said. "Only a place in what may be the last stand against the dragon who broke our world."
They didn't answer immediately. The fire crackled and spit.
Finally, Fafnir looked to Irene.
"Would you fight to keep her safe? Even if it meant serving someone you once hated?"
Irene's eyes softened, clouded with grief but lit with something new resolve.
"I would burn the world for her," she whispered.
"Then don't burn it," Zeref said. "Help me save it."
Fafnir folded his arms. "Under one condition. We serve no throne. We serve the cause."
Zeref nodded once. "Agreed."
---
Alvarez Empire – Months Later
The white shores of Alakitasia gleamed with golden banners. The Alvarez Empire had already begun forming under Zeref's quiet command, its core comprised of powerful mages and lost souls seeking purpose.
Fafnir and Irene arrived in the capital disguised under illusion enchantments. Zeref welcomed them with little fanfare no titles, no proclamations. He knew better than to pretend they were loyalists. They were allies, and that would have to be enough.
Irene was offered a command position in the magical research division, her enchantment knowledge far exceeding that of the empire's other scholars. Fafnir declined any direct military rank, opting instead to work as a quiet operative one who would be deployed only when needed.
They slept in quiet chambers high in the central keep, far above the noise of politics. On some days, they trained. On others, they worked together on refining barrier spells, reinforcement runes, or stasis glyphs for the Eclipse Gate.
But always… they remembered.
---
One Night on the Balcony
The moon hung low, casting a pale glow over the empire's courtyard. Fafnir leaned against a railing, wings tucked, watching the starlight dance over the stone below.
Irene stepped beside him, a goblet of spiced wine in her hand.
"She's safe," she said softly.
"Yes," he replied.
"But not ours," she added, her voice a whisper.
Fafnir turned. "Would you change that if you could?"
Irene closed her eyes. "Only if she wanted me to."
He offered her a rare smile. "That's growth."
She leaned against his shoulder.
"We'll watch over her from afar," he said. "For now."
And so they stood, silent in their sorrow but also in their peace.
They were part of something again. Not rulers. Not monsters. Just two people chasing the shadow of hope.
And perhaps, one day, they would step into the light again.