The sun hung warm and golden over the winding road as the cart rolled steadily through the quiet countryside, creaking with every bump and stone along the way. The forest had begun to thin out around them, the trees growing less dense, and the path grew wider with the occasional milestone cropping up at its edges. In the distance, somewhere beyond the soft blue hills, lay their destination: a grand estate where representatives from the guilds would soon gather—not for celebration, but for war.
Inside the cart, the mood teetered between anticipation and restlessness. Natsu, never one to sit still, was, for once, his face as green as Aelius's eyes, mumbling between incoherent sentences and something about setting him free. Gray, who sat with his arms crossed and an irritated brow that deepened by the minute.
"I'm telling you, it's dumb," Natsu said, his body leaning over the cart's railing as he threatened to empty his lunch on the road below, "Six..bleh….six people? That's nothing. We've fought worse."
Gray rolled his eyes. "You don't even know what kind of magic they use. There's a reason we're teaming up for this."
Natsu's response was something along the lines of, "Bad guys, getting knocked out either way."
"I'm not saying we can't beat them," Gray retorted. "I'm saying we don't walk into a fight thinking we're invincible."
Natsu snorted. "That's your problem. You're always so boring."
Happy chimed in from his place atop a stack of supplies. "Aye! That's why Natsu gets to do the cool entrance stuff!"
Lucy, sitting cross-legged beside them with her travel notebook open across her knees, sighed. "You both are impossible. This is bigger than anything we've done before—it's not just about punching until someone gives up."
"Thank you!" Gray pointed at her with both hands. "Finally, someone gets it."
Erza, calm but alert, sat near the front of the cart with her arms crossed, facing forward. Her posture was tense, and while she hadn't joined in the banter, her attention was clearly fixed on more than just the path ahead.
The only one truly silent was Aelius.
He sat in the back corner of the cart, half-obscured in his dark cloak, the morning light playing off his flask. Occasionally, he flipped open the cap. He hadn't spoken since they'd set out.
The cart rumbled on.
Eventually, Lucy peeked up from her notes and glanced back at him. "Hey… Aelius?"
He didn't move.
"Have you ever fought anyone like them before? The Oración Seis, I mean?"
He paused mid-swig, his mind playing the question around.
"No," he said, the word quiet but firm. "Not them."
Lucy blinked. "But… someone like them?"
Another pause. He flipped the flask shut, gave it a single shake, and then stared off through the trees. When he spoke again, it wasn't really an answer—more of a thought said aloud.
"They don't gather power like we do," he said slowly. "Not to protect. Not even to conquer. They gather it to reshape things. Twist the world into something they can control."
The cart fell silent at that. Even Natsu's usual energy dimmed for a breath.
Erza turned slightly, her voice level. "So they're zealots."
Aelius snorted lightly. "Zealots have faith. These ones? They're worse. They don't worship anything but the silence after everything's burned."
Gray folded his arms again. "And here I thought I was the dramatic one."
A faint smirk touched Aelius's lips. "I'm not being dramatic. I'm being honest."
The cart hit a slight bump, jostling them all. Natsu groaned dramatically. "Ugh… how much longer?"
"Not far now," Erza said. "Another half-hour, maybe. Blue Pegasus territory should be just ahead."
Natsu slouched deeper into the cart's wooden frame, one arm dangling over the side, his face a mix of queasy green and hopeful daydream. "Bet there's snacks inside," he muttered, half-groaning the words like a man clinging to the last thread of motivation.
"Probably smells like perfume and ego," Gray muttered.
Happy grinned. "And hair gel!"
Lucy chuckled. "I just hope we're not walking into a mess."
Their cart rolled along the gravel path, crunching beneath the wheels as the mansion finally came into view—large and stately, with sloping roofs of slate and wide eaves overhanging marble terraces. The kind of place that looked expensive to breathe near. The surrounding fields had been freshly cleared, but the air still held a strange tension, like something that hadn't been exorcised from the land entirely.
Natsu leaned forward, eyes narrowing slightly as the cart began to slow. "Hey, Aelius," he said, grinning over his shoulder. "You think this place's got anything worth stealing?"
Erza's sharp gaze snapped immediately in his direction. "Natsu."
"What?" he asked innocently. "Just a question!"
Aelius didn't answer at first. He sat where he always did during long rides—shoulders set, coat slightly disheveled, one knee hooked casually over the other. His flask had never once left his hand. In the past hour, he'd drunk 3 times, it was becoming a coping mechanism for this team's endless enthusiasm for stupid questions.
When Natsu's question echoed again in the quiet, Aelius sighed.
"If there's anything worth stealing," he murmured, "it won't be behind a locked door."
Lucy gave him a look. "That's not an answer."
Before he could, the right lurched to a stop in front of the grand staircase leading up to the mansion's broad, double doors. Two guards in council colors stood at attention, and beyond them, more guild wizards were beginning to gather on the wide platform terrace.
"Everyone out," Erza said briskly, already stepping down.
A chorus of clattering boots and shifting packs followed. Lucy adjusted the strap of her bag, Gray stretched with a grunt, and Natsu practically leapt off the cart with Happy flapping behind him. Aelius moved last. He took one more quiet moment to swirl the contents of his flask, watching the liquid shimmer darkly within.
Then he stood.
The moment he did, the energy around him shifted slightly. Not aggressive—just different. He was not from the same rhythm as the others danced to. Even now, the weight of his title and the distance he placed between himself and the rest of them made him seem like he existed just slightly to the left of the world they occupied.
Still, he followed.
They ascended the stairs together, toward a new front in the conflict—one that promised more questions than answers, and enemies whose names the rest of the world barely dared to whisper.
But Aelius didn't think of that.
He thought only of how quiet his magic had gone, like something had been momentarily satisfied.
His thoughts snagged—just for an instant, like a hook catching on something submerged beneath the surface. A feeling more than a memory, a sensation of dissonance that slipped sideways through his mind like oil on glass. He paused at the top of the stairs, one boot resting just over the threshold, and blinked.
Something didn't match.
A detail. A thread. A word that should've meant something. He didn't know what it was—but for a breathless second, he knew it had been taken. Not forgotten, not misplaced—taken. As if someone had plucked a piece of his mind out with surgical precision, leaving only the ghost of the space it used to fill.
Aelius's hand clenched tighter around the flask.
Then it passed. Quietly, effortlessly, like mist burned away by the sun. He moved again, the moment already half-swallowed by the noise of other guilds congregating on the far side of the grand hall. Voices, clatter, banners unfurling with familiar insignias—rivalries rekindled and old stories carried in on every step.
To the others, Aelius looked the same: composed, distant, half-listening as he often was. But something behind his eyes had shifted. Something noticed. Something that didn't belong.
As Team Natsu and Aelius stepped into the grand hall of the Blue Pegasus mansion, they were immediately greeted by the opulent decor characteristic of the guild. The atmosphere was lively, with members of Blue Pegasus bustling about, preparing for the upcoming mission against Oración Seis.
Suddenly, three sharply dressed men swept toward them with coordinated strides, their jackets pristine and their hair styled with unmistakable purpose. They practically shimmered with confidence.
Lucy blinked as recognition clicked almost immediately. "Oh no… It's the Trimens," she whispered under her breath. "Blue Pegasus's… uh, pretty-boy team."
Hibiki was the first to act, all charm and practiced elegance. He took Lucy's hand like it was made of porcelain, his eyes gleaming. "Ah, the lovely ladies of Fairy Tail," he said smoothly, voice like honey. "Your beauty surpasses even the legends we've heard."
Lucy laughed nervously, unsure of what to do with her hand still in his. "Right… okay… yep, it's them."
Eve, ever the picture of gentle formality, stepped forward and bowed with a flourish. He extended a single rose to Erza, his expression as serious as a knight's oath. "It's a true honor to meet Titania in person. Your strength is surpassed only by your grace."
Erza arched a brow but said nothing, her arms crossing slowly over her chest.
Ren leaned in just slightly, flashing a grin and motioning toward a velvet-lined seating area near the window. "Please, allow us to make your stay more comfortable. We've had refreshments prepared especially for you."
"Ahh," Lucy muttered, her smile stiffening. "They're really like this all the time…"
Erza didn't bother hiding the flat tone in her voice. "We're here for a mission. Not… whatever this is."
The Trimens just laughed—light, practiced, and in sync like a boy band mid-performance.
"But of course," Hibiki said, giving a wink that seemed to sparkle somehow. "Even so, hospitality is the soul of Blue Pegasus."
At that moment, all three struck their signature poses—backlit, dazzling, and perfectly timed, as if the universe itself paused to allow them a dramatic entrance. Light from the high windows caught in their perfectly styled hair. A wind that hadn't existed a moment before rustled their jackets just so. Somewhere, impossibly, a chime rang like a harp being gently plucked.
Lucy groaned softly. "They actually practiced that, didn't they…"
Before the Trimens could offer another line of poetic flattery, a dry, unimpressed voice cut through the glittering atmosphere like a knife scraping the bottom of a rusted pan.
"Fairy Tail sends two S-class, and Blue Pegasus sends a bunch of poster boys."
The words hung in the air, unimpressed and heavy, like a hammer dropped on glass.
The Trimens froze mid-pose. Hibiki's smile twitched. Eve blinked. Ren glanced sidelong at the others like someone who'd just had their cologne insulted in public.
Lucy immediately bit her lip to suppress a laugh. Happy didn't even try, letting out a loud snort from Natsu's shoulder.
Gray chuckled under his breath. "He's not wrong."
Erza just sighed, one corner of her mouth twitching in a way that might've hinted at amusement if you looked hard enough.
Aelius finally looked at them, eyes lazily half-lidded, the corner of his mouth tugging into the faintest mockery of a smile behind his mask. "Let me guess. You three do the introductions, then a hair flip, then maybe some synchronized finger guns if you're really trying to impress someone."
Ren's hand, which had in fact been halfway to a finger-gun gesture, quietly lowered back to his side.
"We prefer to think of ourselves as embodying the spirit of refined magecraft," Hibiki said, recovering quickly and smoothing back his bangs.
"I'm sure you do," Aelius murmured, turning back toward the others without another glance. "You can get that spirit bottled and sold at salons."
Lucy choked back another laugh. Even Erza gave a small exhale, almost like a quiet sigh of appreciation.
Ren blinked once, as if trying to clear the fog of that withering verbal slap. Then his face contorted into something between a grin and a grimace. "And who exactly are you supposed to be, old man?"
Hibiki narrowed his eyes, tone growing sharper than usual. "Seriously. You walk in here like you're some kind of authority, but I don't remember seeing your face on any cover of Sorcerer Weekly."
Eve, ever the more composed of the trio, adjusted his tie with a flick of his wrist. "Or anywhere else, for that matter. If you're Fairy Tail's backup, I'm not exactly impressed."
Aelius paused mid-step, his mask glinting off the chandelier. For a second, it seemed he wouldn't respond at all.
Then he turned.
Slowly. Deliberately.
His gaze swept over the three of them like a glacier inching across a field of flowers. Cold and Heavy. Not angry—just done.
"Out there," he nodded faintly toward the distant hills beyond the mansion's windows, "no one's impressed by titles. No one's counting your followers or watching how well you flip your hair. They're bleeding. Dying. Praying someone strong shows up. Not someone pretty."
Ren scoffed. "And you think you're that someone?"
Aelius didn't even blink. "No. I am that someone."
There was no bravado. No pride in it. It was a plain statement of fact—one delivered with the heavy indifference of someone who'd been told, again and again, to prove himself, only to leave smoking craters where doubters used to stand.
Eve frowned. "You talk like you've been through hell and back. Like you've seen something we haven't."
Aelius's eyes flicked to him—just for a second. There was something old in that glance. Something that had been to hell, and wasn't entirely sure it'd come all the way back.
"I don't talk," he said. "I survive. That's more than most."
He turned just enough to glance toward Lucy and Erza, who'd remained quiet, watching with varying degrees of bemusement and secondhand tension.
"And you two," he added, "don't need a damn rose or poetry. You need people who won't flinch when the sky splits open."
Lucy blushed faintly, more from embarrassment than anything. Erza, meanwhile, regarded Aelius with a calm, unreadable expression. The ghost of a smirk might've touched her lips—but if it had, it was gone a heartbeat later.
The Trimens remained rooted. Hibiki bristled, jaw clenching slightly. "You've got a hell of an attitude for someone who wasn't even introduced. So, I'll ask again, Who are you to speak to us like that?"
The tension in the grand hall was palpable as the Trimens stood, their pride bruised by Aelius's biting words. Before the atmosphere could settle, the heavy doors at the far end creaked open, revealing the arrival of Lamia Scale's representatives.
Leading the duo was a man similar to gray in nature, his white hair and sharp gaze unmistakable. He stepped forward with a confident stride, his voice echoing through the hall.
"Behold, the might of Lamia Scale graces this assembly," Lyon declared, his tone grandiose. "I am Lyon Vastia, master of Ice-Make magic, and a disciple of the great Ur."
Beside him, a girl with pink hair twirled dramatically, her equally pink dress flowing with the motion. "And I am Sherry, the mistress of Doll Magic, where every move is for love!"
The duo struck a synchronized pose, a display of unity and confidence.
Aelius shook his head, "And so the circus comes to town."
Lyon adjusted the collar of his coat with deliberate poise, snowflakes flitting gently from his fingertips. "And together, we represent Lamia Scale's finest." His voice rang with rehearsed grandeur. "Where refinement meets unrivaled skill."
As if on cue, a golden beam from the overhead windows framed them perfectly.
The Trimens, still smarting from Aelius's earlier remark, scoffed in unison. Hibiki flipped his bangs aside with practiced indignation.
"Unrivaled?" he echoed, scoffing. "Don't flatter yourselves, Lamia Scale. You're certainly spirited—I'll give you that—but if it's elegance and impact you're after, well…" He turned, smirking as he and the other Trimens resumed their photogenic triangle formation.
Eve swept his arm with a magician's flourish.
"Blue Pegasus offers both strength and style—something that simply can't be learned."
Ren added with a wink, "And let's not forget our most valuable asset: charm."
Sherry gave a dramatic gasp, turning toward Lyon. "Oh! Did you hear that, Lyon? They think charm can stand up to love!"
Lyon sighed, brushing invisible dust from his shoulder. "I don't waste time debating fashion models."
That earned a visible twitch from Hibiki, who looked ready to snap back—when Aelius's voice cut in again, flat as slate and sharp as a knife's edge.
"And so the circus comes to town."
The room quieted just a little too fast. All heads turned as Aelius pushed off the pillar. He didn't raise his voice—he never needed to—but it carried, like cold water poured over a flame.
"Fairy Tail sends its strongest mages," he said again, glancing toward Erza. "Lamia Scale sends its winter circus and his lovesick fanclub." A nod toward Lyon and Sherry. Then, finally, his gaze shifted to the Trimens. "And Blue Pegasus? You send three pages out of a cologne ad."
Hibiki bristled again. "You really think a rust-stained cloak and a drinking problem gives you the authority to judge us?"
Before Aelius could respond, a calm yet commanding voice resonated through the hall. "No, but being a Wizard Saint does."
All eyes turned toward the entrance, where a tall, bald man with a composed demeanor stood. The room fell silent, the weight of man's presence palpable.
Hibiki's confident facade faltered, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find words. Eve and Ren exchanged uneasy glances, their earlier bravado dissipating.
Aelius straightened from his relaxed posture against the pillar, caught off guard for the first time that day. His eyes narrowed slightly as he regarded the man approaching with composed, mountain-solid calm.
"Jura," he said, his voice level but laced with a thread of surprise. "I wasn't told another Saint would be here."
He knew the name, of course—had heard it spoken during the formalities of his own induction into the ranks of the Ten Wizard Saints. One of the few details he hadn't let slip through the cracks. Jura of Lamia Scale—steady, principled, and annoyingly well-regarded. Aelius had filed it away beneath a hundred things he hoped wouldn't matter.
Apparently, it did now.
Jura approached with measured steps, his gaze steady. "I was assigned to oversee this collaboration. Given the importance of the mission, the Council deemed it necessary."
Lucy leaned toward Gray, whispering, "That's Jura! He's one of the Ten Wizard Saints. Kind of a big deal."
Gray nodded, eyes fixed on Jura. "Yeah, he's Lamia Scale's ace. They say his power rivals even master."
Erza stepped forward, offering a respectful nod. "Jura, it's an honor to have you with us."
Jura returned the gesture. "Likewise, Erza. Let's focus on the task at hand."
The tension in the room eased slightly, the presence of two Wizard Saints bringing a sense of gravitas to the gathering. The guild representatives, now unified under the leadership of Jura and Aelius, prepared to discuss their strategy against the looming threat.
Hibiki's jaw slackened as if the words hadn't quite registered—then snapped back shut, his voice tinged with incredulity. "Wait—wait. You mean to tell me this guy"—he gestured sharply in Aelius's direction with an open palm, disbelief lacing every syllable—"this vagrant, with the ratty cloak and permanent hangover expression—is a Wizard Saint?"
A silence followed. It wasn't uncomfortable—more like the kind that comes just before a sudden shift in weather. Aelius didn't blink. He didn't even look over. He simply tilted the flask again, took another measured sip, and let the accusation hang in the air like smoke from a long-extinguished fire.
Ren muttered, "Is this a joke?" and half-laughed, clearly hoping someone—anyone—would confirm it. Eve, for once, didn't say a word. He was staring, doing the math in his head, recalling every known Wizard Saint and finding none who matched the cloaked green-eyed man with the aura of a long-distance funeral.
Aelius finally exhaled, slow and even. Then he turned his gaze toward Hibiki with the kind of wearied stillness that suggested he'd outlived many men who once asked dumber questions.
Jura stepped forward, his hands clasped behind his back, voice steady as the earth. "It's not a joke," he said plainly. "Aelius of Fairy Tail was appointed to the Ten Wizard Saints less than two weeks ago."
Hibiki's face contorted like a man who'd been told his cologne was made from swamp water. "You're serious?" he snapped. "This vagrant—" he waved toward Aelius's cloak and mask, his flask, and his unreadable gaze—"this hungover hobo is a Wizard Saint?"
"Oh, boy," Gray muttered, already bracing for the inevitable.
Aelius didn't move at first. He just watched Hibiki for a few quiet seconds that ticked past like slow, tightening wires. Then he pushed off the pillar with a slow, measured motion, his boots echoing faintly against the polished stone.
"I don't remember applying for a job at Blue Pegasus," Aelius said, his tone dry as dust. "So I must've missed the part where I had to impress three golden-haired mannequins to earn my seat."
"That's enough," Jura said sharply—not angry, but firm, cutting in before Hibiki could retort. "You've heard what I said. Aelius earned his place. He's the man who defeated José Porla in single combat—the former holder of the very seat he now claims."
Eve's breath caught. Even Ren's cocky posture faltered.
Hibiki shook his head slowly, still trying to process. "That can't be—"
"It is," Erza cut in. Her tone left no room for argument. "And more importantly, he's a member of our guild. Fairy Tail stands by him."
Natsu, who had been silent until now, leaned forward slightly and grinned. "You'll see for yourself soon enough. Just don't get in his way when things get ugly."
Aelius remained silent through it all, watching the room with the grim patience of someone listening to a clock tick in a burning house.
Jura took a step forward, voice clear and authoritative now. "The Council did not send two Wizard Saints for ceremony. They sent us because this mission is more dangerous than anything we've seen in years. Oración Seis is not to be underestimated. We are not here to posture. We are here to end this."
He turned toward the room, his gaze heavy on each face in turn. "And while I do not always agree with Aelius's manner of speaking… This is not the time for manners. It is the time for resolve."
There was silence.
Then, surprisingly, Sherry clapped her hands together, breaking the tension like a splash of cold water. "Well then! If the circus is already in town," she said cheerfully, eyes glittering, "let's hope we all make it through the show!"
Gray sighed. "Can't believe I'm saying this, but she has a point."
"Let's get to the mission already," Natsu groaned, slouching back into the cart with a hand on his stomach. "This talking's making me hungrier than fighting ever does."
Happy nodded sympathetically. "I want fish."
Meanwhile, Aelius leaned back against a marble column, he said nothing else. His expression hadn't changed—still carved from the same stone as it had been before the argument, still distant, still watching. But something in the air had shifted now.
No one—no one—was laughing anymore.
Even the Trimens stayed quiet.
They weren't entirely sure if it was respect they were feeling or fear.
But they understood now—this wasn't some grimy mage tagging along for nostalgia's sake.
This was a storm in a bottle.
And the bottle had cracks in it.
And the bottle had cracks in it.
Jura, ever composed, turned again toward Aelius with the bearing of a man who had spent his life weathering storms—and still knew when to bow to one.
"Sir Aelius," he said, with a slight nod of respect, "it is an honor to meet a fellow Saint—especially the youngest Wizard Saint in the recorded history of the Council."
That silence—that fragile, on-edge hush—fractured like thin ice.
"Wait," Hibiki said, his voice going flat. "Youngest?"
Ren blinked several times. "What does that even mean—how young?"
Eve stared. "You're telling me he's not some middle-aged drunkard?"
Aelius said nothing. He didn't even blink. He took another slow sip from his flask, gaze fixed on something distant and unbothered—something not in the room.
"Hey," Hibiki pushed again, stepping forward slightly. "Hey. Come on. How old are you actually?"
Still nothing. Aelius didn't even glance his way. The question floated, unanswered, and it was clear it would stay that way.
Erza crossed her arms and, after a short pause, answered in his place.
"He's nineteen."
The words hit the room like a dropped sword.
Ren's mouth actually fell open. Eve made a sound like he'd just swallowed a piece of silverware. Hibiki's fingers twitched mid-air, as if trying to piece a puzzle together without the edges, staring at Aelius like he was a contradiction that refused to solve itself.
Erza's arms crossed tightly over her chest, her tone flat with the weight of long experience. "I also apologize for his behavior," she said. "He's like this at the guild, too."
Aelius's head turned slightly, one eye narrowing toward her in tired annoyance. "What are you, my babysitter now?"
She planted a hand on her hip, unapologetic. "Yes. Because Master asked me to."
The silence that followed was somehow louder than the one before.
Even Natsu, who had been idly spinning a fork between his fingers at the table, raised his brows and glanced over, suddenly more interested. Gray smirked, not even trying to hide his amusement. Lucy stifled a laugh while Happy audibly whispered, "Ooooh, she said it."
Aelius slowly looked away again, like a man choosing patience out of sheer exhaustion. He muttered something inaudible, probably not polite, and definitely not kind.
Jura gave a deep, amused hum, folding his arms. "A rare Saint indeed—one who still answers to his guild, and is humble enough to be supervised."
"I'm not humble," Aelius muttered.
"No," Erza said, "you're just stubborn and impossible to deal with."
"Which is why he needs a keeper," Gray chimed in with a smirk.
"And I suppose you'd do better?" Aelius asked without looking at him.
"Absolutely not," Gray said, crossing his arms and leaning back. "I enjoy living."
"Smart," Lucy whispered.
Erza looked over at the Trimens again, her gaze calm but firm. "So yes. He's nineteen. He's a Saint. He's difficult. But he's ours. And if you want to work with Fairy Tail, you'd better get used to him."
Eve exhaled. "Understood."
Hibiki finally lowered his hand, his expression still frozen somewhere between disbelief and reluctant respect.
Ren coughed awkwardly. "So… should we, uh, start talking strategy now?"
Jura stood at the head of the table, his calm gaze sweeping over the assembled mages. The room had settled into a tentative quiet after the earlier revelations. Yet, not all parties were present.
"We are still awaiting the representatives from Cait Shelter," Jura began, his voice steady. "And, according to the Council's report, Blue Pegasus was to send a fourth member. Is there a reason for their absence?"
The Trimens exchanged uneasy glances.
"Ah, yes," Hibiki said, adjusting his collar. "Ichiya-san is... somewhere within the mansion. He should be joining us shortly."
At the mere mention of his name, Erza visibly tensed. A shiver ran down her spine, and she instinctively crossed her arms, as if to shield herself from an unseen chill. Her expression hardened, a mix of disgust and apprehension clouding her features.
"He's here?" she muttered, eyes darting toward the doorway.
Ren chuckled nervously. "He tends to make... dramatic entrances."Eve nodded. "Always aiming for flair."
Aelius, leaning against a pillar, took a slow sip from his flask. "Great. Just what we needed."
Lucy leaned toward Gray, whispering, "Erza looks like she's seen a ghost."
Jura, sensing the rising tension, cleared his throat. Regardless, we must focus on the mission at hand. Personal feelings aside, Ichiya is a capable mage."
Erza sighed, composing herself. "You're right. Let's proceed."
Erza turned toward Jura, her expression thoughtful.
"Do you know anything about the members of Cait Shelter?" she asked.
Jura shook his head slightly. "Only that they sent a single mage to represent them. Beyond that, I have no details."
As if on cue, the doors to the meeting hall creaked open. A young girl with long, dark blue hair entered, her eyes wide with a mix of determination and nervousness. She took a few steps forward, then tripped over her own feet, landing face-first on the floor with a soft thud.
A small, white cat with a pink bow hovered beside her, sighing. "Honestly, you need to be more careful," she said, helping the girl to her feet.
The girl dusted herself off, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I-I'm so sorry for the entrance," she stammered. "My name is Wendy Marvell, and this is Carla. We're from Cait Shelter."
The room fell into a stunned silence as the young girl introduced herself.
Gray blinked, his mouth slightly agape. "Wait... she's the representative from Cait Shelter?"
Sherry crossed her arms, her brow furrowed. "What is Cait Shelter thinking? Sending a little girl on a mission against the Oración Seis?"
Lyon glanced at Wendy, then at Carla, his expression skeptical. "They must be desperate if they're sending children."
Lucy, ever empathetic, stepped forward. "Wendy, it's an honor to meet you. We look forward to working together."
Wendy bowed deeply, her cheeks flushed. "Thank you! I'll do my best to support everyone."
Carla hovered beside her, nodding approvingly. "She may be young, but Wendy's magic is formidable."
Aelius remained silent, his expression unreadable as he observed the new arrivals.
Carla hovered dutifully by her side, her pink bow bobbing slightly as she glanced warily around the room, protective instincts already stirring. Aelius hadn't moved, hadn't spoken. He watched from his place near one of the broad marble pillars, eyes half-lidded, unreadable. He didn't blink when she tripped. He didn't blink now.
It was Lyon who broke the silence. "What kind of magic do you use?"
Wendy straightened a bit, her hands balled into small fists at her sides as she summoned what little courage she could. "I use Sky Dragon Slayer Magic."
The reaction was instantaneous.
"Dragon Slayer?!" Gray echoed, half in disbelief.
Lucy's eyes widened. "Another one?"
Happy's wings fluttered with a snap. "Whoa, for real?!"
But it was Natsu who launched forward with the intensity of a bonfire hitting dry brush.
He practically skidded to a stop in front of her, arms flailing slightly as if unsure whether to grab her, shake her, or just gawk. "You said you're a Dragon Slayer?! For real?! You're serious?! Sky Dragon Slayer?!"
Wendy stumbled back half a step, startled by his sudden proximity and heat. "Y-Yes! My foster mother was a dragon. Her name was Grandeeney—"
"Grandeeney?!" Natsu repeated, stunned. "Wait, wait—Grandeeney? Like, an actual dragon?! Where is she?! Do you know where Igneel is?! Do you—did she ever say anything about him?! Red scales, huge wings, real loud?"
Wendy flinched from the avalanche of questions. "I-I don't know! I've been looking for her too—I thought maybe someone here would know where she went!"
Natsu stared at her for a long second, the fire behind his eyes flickering between hope and frustration, between the burning need for answers and the pain of still having none.
"Another one," Gray muttered again, running a hand through his hair. "Seriously, how many Dragon Slayers are there?"
"She's so small," Sherry whispered to Lyon, incredulous.
"Size has nothing to do with strength," Carla said briskly, floating down to perch beside Wendy's shoulder. "Wendy is more capable than she appears."
Erza crossed her arms and studied Wendy intently. "Sky Dragon Slayer Magic… that would be support-based, yes? Healing and enhancement?"
Wendy nodded, grateful for a question she could answer without being yelled at. "Yes. I can use it to heal injuries and support other mages. I can also fight if I need to."
"Impressive," Jura remarked thoughtfully. "Support magic of that caliber may prove invaluable to our alliance."
Still leaning against the pillar, Aelius took a long breath through his nose. No reaction crossed his face, no words passed his lips. But his eyes lingered on Wendy just a moment longer than they had the others, flicking from her to Carla, then drifting toward the high windows, where the light no longer looked quite as warm.
Lucy noticed and turned toward him. "You okay?"
He didn't answer, and she didn't push. Something about his silence felt heavier than usual. Not ominous—just… waiting.
Believed himself naturally charming—his jacket catching a glint of afternoon light, his smile sliding into place like a blade into its sheath.
"Well, well," he said, voice dipped in the same honeyed tone he'd used a dozen times that day, "such grace, and talent too? You must be Cait Shelter's hidden treasure." He stepped forward, one hand extended with theatrical gentleness. "Allow me to formally welcome you, Miss Wendy. You're clearly a shining gem among rougher stones."
Wendy blinked, unsure, cheeks already flushing with more than embarrassment now. She leaned subtly closer to Carla, who narrowed her eyes.
Before Hibiki could reach her—before his fingers even brushed her shoulder—another hand caught his wrist.
It wasn't violent.
It didn't need to be.
Aelius's hand was like an iron cuff, cool and still and final. He hadn't moved fast—just precisely. As if he'd always known this moment would come. His eyes remained fixed on Hibiki's, the way a storm cloud might watch a match get struck beneath it.
"That's close enough," Aelius said.
His tone was as calm as ever, but quieter than before. There was no bite in it, no shout—just the same still weight that made the hairs on the back of one's neck rise. The kind of voice a condemned man might hear in a cell right before the door closes for good.
Hibiki blinked, the charm falling from his face like a sheet of brittle ice. "W-What's the problem? I was just welcoming her—"
"She doesn't need that kind of welcome," Aelius replied, releasing his wrist with the slow precision of someone who'd considered not just doing that. "Try acting like you're here for a mission, not an audition."
There was a beat of stillness. Hibiki instinctively rubbed his wrist, though no marks remained.
"I was just being polite—"
"Then use your words," Carla cut in, stepping forward, tail swishing like a drawn line in the sand. "Not your hands."
Hibiki opened his mouth, thought better of it, and closed it again.
Wendy looked up at Aelius. For a second, her nervousness cracked, replaced by a flicker of awe.
Lucy gave a soft exhale. "Well, that's probably the gentlest warning Hibiki's ever gotten."
Erza nodded. "And more than fair."
Gray smirked. "Guess now we really know who the babysitter is."
"I heard that," Aelius muttered without looking back at Gray. But then, without fanfare or hesitation, he shifted and knelt slowly in front of Wendy.
Even crouched, his presence was commanding—his shoulders still broad, his eyes level with hers yet somehow still faintly above. The movement was deliberate, not dramatic, and utterly devoid of showmanship. He simply wanted to be closer to her height. To speak to her without looming.
Wendy blinked, caught between surprise and uncertainty, her hands still clutched nervously at the hem of her dress.
Aelius tilted his head slightly. "Are you alright?"
The room was quiet again, but not stiff. Not awkward. Just… watching.
Wendy gave a small nod. "Y-Yes. Thank you. I just wasn't expecting so many people. And the energy is… a lot."
A soft snort came from somewhere behind them.
"I think you should be careful, Aelius," Lucy said with a raised brow, arms folded loosely. "Keep this up and people might actually start thinking you care."
Aelius didn't glance away from Wendy, but his answer came dry and steady. "I like children."
That alone drew a surprised blink from Lucy.
"They're not corrupted by the world yet," he added quietly, green eyes steady on Wendy's brown. "They don't pretend to be more than they are. They ask honest questions. They tend to be more tolerable than their elders."
Wendy looked up at him, wide-eyed. "You… think so?"
"I do."
He rose again—fluid, unhurried, like the weight of his movements belonged to another world entirely. His cloak shifted as he stood, the faint chime of something metallic brushing his belt echoing the stillness that followed.
Wendy smiled, small and a bit shy, but genuine. "Thank you."
"You'll be fine," he said. Then turned and walked back toward the pillar.
Gray raised an eyebrow toward Lucy, speaking low. "Did he just call us intolerable?"
"Pretty sure," she murmured back.
"Should we be offended?"
"Nah," Erza said, arms still crossed. "He's right."
The room's tension was palpable, the air thick with anticipation and unease. Suddenly, the grand doors burst open, and a flamboyant figure made his entrance. Ichiya Vandalay Kotobuki, the ace of Blue Pegasus and leader of the Trimens, strutted into the room with his signature flair. Dressed in his pristine white suit adorned with perfume bottles, his orange hair styled impeccably, he struck a pose and declared, "Men!"
Erza visibly shivered, a mix of disgust and apprehension crossing her face. "Why did it have to be him?" she muttered under her breath.
Ren, one of the Trimens, chuckled nervously. "I said he was here somewhere in the mansion," he said, trying to lighten the mood.
Ichiya approached the group, his presence as overwhelming as ever. "I apologize for my tardiness, my sweet honeys," he said, striking another pose. "But fear not, for I, Ichiya, have arrived to grace you with my manly presence!"
Hibiki stepped forward, eager to redirect the focus. He activated his Archive Magic, conjuring a holographic display in the air. "Let's focus on the mission at hand," he said. "Allow me to provide information on the six members of Oración Seis."
"Oración Seis is a dark guild composed of six powerful mages," Hibiki began. "They are part of the Balam Alliance, which includes the three most dangerous dark guilds in Fiore."
The first panel showed a man with a bald head and a staff topped with a grinning face.
"This is Brain, the leader of Oración Seis."
The next image depicted a young man with wild hair and a snake coiled around his shoulders.
"Cobra the snake wizard."
A woman with long silver hair and a confident expression appeared next.
"Angel, as beautiful as she is dangerous."
The following panel displayed a man in a sleek outfit, poised as if ready to sprint.
"Next is Racer, judging by his name, he uses speed magic."
A man with spiraling glasses and a greedy grin was shown next.
"Divine eyes, Hoteye, money is his only truth, no job too much if it pays enough."
The final image revealed a man lounging with a bored expression, his eyes hidden beneath his hair.
"Midnight, his name's the only thing we know."
Hibiki concluded, "Each member is strong enough to challenge an entire guild. Together, they pose a significant threat."
The room fell silent as everyone absorbed the gravity of the situation.
"Is this all the information we have on them?" Aelius's voice cut through the silence like a slow blade—soft, but unmistakably edged. He was leaning with one shoulder against the marble pillar, arms folded, expression unreadable beneath the tousled sweep of hair. His eyes, half-lidded and heavy with some unreadable thought, didn't shift from the glowing panels—but the question was clearly directed at Hibiki.
The Blue Pegasus mage hesitated for a moment. His Archive panels flickered slightly in response to his own uncertainty. "It's… all that's been confirmed by the Magic Council and gathered from scattered reports," Hibiki admitted. "Oración Seis is extraordinarily secretive. They don't have public bounties like most dark mages, and they rarely leave survivors when they act. What we know comes from intercepted communications and the rare eyewitness."
Aelius didn't nod. Didn't blink. Just said, "So what you're telling me is… the Council's sending two Wizard Saints, 4 guilds, and people capable of destroying a country six people over rumors."
Jura spoke next, calm and firm as stone. "Rumors—and the results of their last action. They destroyed a council seal site. Every defense there was wiped out. Dozens of protectors… gone. No warning. No sign."
A beat passed.
Aelius finally pushed away from the pillar, stepping into the light of the projection. The ghostly glow from Hibiki's Archive magic danced across his cloak and caught in the cold gleam of his eyes.
"Wonderful," he muttered. "We're walking blind into a hornet's nest, and someone decided it was a good time to put the kids on the front line."
"I'm not a kid!" Wendy piped up instinctively, then flushed pink the moment all eyes snapped toward her.
A pause. And then, to everyone's shock, Aelius actually looked at her—not flatly, not coldly, but with a faint, almost tired trace of something like acknowledgment. "Didn't say you were the problem."
Lucy tilted her head. "Then who is?"
Aelius didn't answer.
He simply turned his green eyes back toward the Archive panels—where the six members of Oración Seis floated like tombstones in digital light. Faces known. Powers cataloged. And yet… something about their arrangement. Their completeness. It was too precise. Too neat.
His gaze sharpened, then narrowed.
"What about the seventh?"
The question cut clean through the room, sharp enough to silence the next breath. Even the hum of the magic projection seemed to quiet.
Ren scoffed softly, brow arching. "You do know 'seis' means six, right?"
Eve frowned. "There's only ever been six members. That's the whole point."
"I—I remember something..." Lucy's voice came out small at first, uncertain, then steadied. Her eyes widened a little as the memory clicked into place. "Right before we left, Master Makarov—he mentioned something weird."
She took a step closer to the others, drawing their attention.
"He said—exactly—'And we have reason to believe there may now be a seventh member,'" she recited. "'The Council's last report hinted at a new presence moving with them—something... or someone they couldn't identify clearly. Whether they're a formal addition to the Oración Seis or not, no one knows."
The words fell like stones into deep water. Silence rippled around them.
Now all eyes turned toward Jura.
He closed his own momentarily, the lines of his face deepening in reflection, before he spoke.
"Makarov speaks the truth. He and I were both given that warning from a high-ranking source in the Council. Very few know of it. There were… whispers. A shadow among shadows. The information was too vague to be useful, too dangerous to spread without cause."
Gray scowled. "So you did keep it from everyone else."
Jura opened his eyes, calm but resolute. "I did. Because no name, no record, no confirmed identity exists. Nothing but inference. This figure—if they exist at all—moves beyond the edge of any known intelligence."
"It could be a hoax," Lyon muttered, arms folded. "Something the Council cooked up to keep us on our toes."
Aelius didn't speak. He didn't move. But the light from the Archive caught in the green of his eyes like stormlight on glass.
He studied the space between the six displayed profiles—the awkward gap that now, thanks to that question, felt deliberate.
"Makarov was sure," Lucy said softly. "Even if it was just a feeling."
"And feelings have saved more lives than logic ever did," Erza added.
Sherry's gaze darted to Jura. "If this seventh member is real... are they stronger than the others?"
"There's no way to know," Jura answered. "But consider this: the Oración Seis are already dangerous enough to warrant this alliance. Yet someone, or something, walks with them without a record, without a title. That level of secrecy is not built for vanity. It is forged for violence."
Carla perched at Wendy's side, tail flicking sharply. "Then our plans must assume seven enemies, not six."
"Assume worse," Aelius finally murmured. "Assume it's not a seventh member."
They looked at him.
Aelius remained still, arms folded, shadows cast across his mask by the soft gold glow of the Archive.
"Assume it's something else entirely. Something behind the curtain. A puppeteer. Or a knife they haven't drawn yet."
Happy shifted closer to Natsu. "Creepy…"
Wendy swallowed, visibly uneasy.
Erza's hand hovered near her sword hilt, eyes never leaving the floating images.
"I don't like fighting ghosts," Gray muttered.
Jura, quiet until now, stepped forward. "Then we don't treat them like ghosts, we treat them like something real, even if unseen. We move carefully. We strike with unity. And we leave no one behind."
The team nodded. Even the Trimens were silent now, their earlier bravado dimmed by the unknown.
And in that unfinished space between the six—still empty, still silent—the room seemed to breathe a little heavier.