"Can you slow down?" the girl asked, nearly tripping over a loose stone as she jogged to keep pace. Her voice was sharp, strained with effort. "Your freakishly long legs make you faster than me. You could at least show a little consideration, considering you stole my life's work. And my cart."
Aelius didn't stop. His stride was steady, deliberate, every step landing with the weight of someone who never felt the need to hurry. He angled his mask slightly toward her, amusement flickering faintly in the single eye she could see.
"Life's work?" he echoed, tone edged with mockery. "That rickety cart of rotten wood and squealing wheels?"
Her face went scarlet. "It wasn't rotten! I built that thing myself, and I fixed it every time it broke! Everything I own was in it!"
"And now it's in my space," Aelius cut her off, his voice smooth and low, the kind of calm that made people bristle. "Safer than it ever was rattling across the dirt behind you. Consider it an upgrade."
Her hands balled into fists at her sides, lips pressing thin. "That's not the point! You can't just take things from people like that. Normal people call that stealing."
"Normal people," Aelius hummed, gaze turning back to the road, "don't cross my path very often."
The girl groaned, kicking a rock off the road hard enough to send it tumbling into the weeds. "You're impossible."
"Yes," he admitted simply, as though she had just paid him a compliment.
She stomped forward a step, tugging at her loose sleeves in irritation. "You don't even care, do you? You just do whatever you want, "
"Correct again." His answer cut her off as neatly as a knife through cloth.
She let out a strangled sound, part outrage, part exhaustion, before finally spitting, "I hate you."
Aelius tilted his head back. "Good. Hate's easier to live with than gratitude. Keep that, it'll serve you better."
The girl blinked, caught off guard by the strange weight in his words, but before she could press him on it, Aelius lengthened his stride again, silent, the smirk hidden but unmistakably there.
"...You're weird. Really weird," the girl muttered, huffing as she jogged up beside him again. She tugged her cloak tighter around her shoulders as though it might shield her from his unnerving presence. After a pause, her voice softened, not enough to lose its edge, but enough to sound more curious than angry. "Can I at least know your name?"
Aelius's stride didn't falter, his boots crunching against the packed dirt road. For a moment, it seemed like he hadn't heard her at all. His mask remained tilted back, gaze fixed on the horizon. Silence stretched between them, long enough that she let out a frustrated groan and threw up her hands.
Then he spoke.
"Aelius."
Just the name, given without fanfare, without warmth. Like tossing a coin into a well, he didn't care to look into it.
She blinked, caught off guard by how blunt it was. "...That's it? Just…..Aelius?"
He finally tilted his head, the mask catching a streak of afternoon sun. "Names are for calling. You wanted mine. Now you have it. Don't expect more."
The girl squinted at him, her brows knitting together as though she were trying to decide if he was mocking her or not. "You're a strange one, Aelius. Most people at least try to sound… I don't know, normal?"
"Normal's a disease," he said flatly, though a faint ripple of amusement laced his tone. "And I can't catch diseases."
She opened her mouth, then closed it again, studying him like he was a puzzle with too many missing pieces. Finally, she shook her head, muttering under her breath, "Definitely weird. My name's Lena, and unlike you, I have a last name. It's Bridges. Lena Bridges."
"Do you build bridges, Ms. Bridges?" Aelius asked immediately, unable to help himself, his voice calm, almost lazy, but laced with that subtle edge of dry humor that made it hard to tell if he was joking or genuinely curious.
Lena stumbled a step, staring up at him like he'd just spoken in another language. "Do I, what? No! I don't build bridges. It's just a name!"
"Shame," Aelius replied with a faint shrug, hands slipping behind his back as he walked. "Would've made sense. A bridge builder named Bridges. Simple. Efficient."
"You're mocking me."
"Am I?" His tone gave nothing away, but she swore she saw his shoulders twitch, the smallest sign he was suppressing a laugh.
"Yes! You are!" Lena huffed, brushing a stray lock of hair out of her face as she quickened her pace to keep up with him again. "I'm a merchant, not some carpenter with a hammer and nails. I buy things. I sell things. I don't build bridges."
Aelius hummed, tilting his head as though giving it actual thought. "So you deal in trade, then. Moving goods from one place to another."
"Yes. That's what a merchant does," she snapped, annoyed but also a little flustered.
"...Seems close enough to building bridges to me."
Lena threw her arms in the air. "You're impossible! I hate you," her cheeks puffing as she stomped along at his side.
"Get in line," Aelius replied without so much as a pause in his stride. His tone was flat and dismissive, the words falling from his lips like they cost him nothing. "Though you'd certainly be the shortest in that line. If we're counting the ones that've grown up by now."
Lena blinked, then narrowed her eyes, glaring up at him like she could burn holes through the mask. "That's not funny."
"It wasn't meant to be," Aelius said, gaze fixed ahead, boots crunching against the dirt path. His hands were clasped loosely behind his back, posture steady, unbothered. "It's just… true."
Her fists balled at her sides, and she let out an exasperated groan. "You really don't care, do you? About anyone liking you. About whether people hate you."
Aelius finally tilted his head slightly, just enough that the glint of his mask caught the sunlight. "Why would I? Approval doesn't keep me alive. Hatred doesn't kill me. It's all noise."
Lena frowned, slowing her pace for a step. She didn't like his answer, not because it was cruel, but because it was so… empty.
"You're weird," she muttered again, kicking at a rock as they walked.
"You've said that before," Aelius replied, without breaking his stride. "Try to think of something new before we reach Magnolia."
"Try to be a better person before we reach Magnolia," Lena shot back, quick as a whip.
Aelius gave a low, sharp exhale that might've been a laugh, or just a sound of disbelief. "You remind me far too much of a certain thorn in my side. I'm starting to think it's a curse of all short people." His eyes flicked down toward her, the faintest edge of irritation creeping into his voice.
Lena smirked, clearly pleased with herself. "Oh, so I do get under your skin."
"Annoyance isn't victory," Aelius muttered, rolling his eyes as his flask shimmered into his hand from his requip space. With a small tilt of his head, he used the rim to nudge his mask upward just enough to bare his mouth. The sunlight caught a quick glint of pale skin, a sharp line of his jaw, before he took a long, deliberate drink.
"Hey!" Lena pointed at him as though she'd caught him committing a crime. "So you can eat and drink under that mask. I was starting to think you were some kind of undead or something."
Aelius lowered the flask, letting the mask fall back into place with a soft click. "Would it matter if I was?" he asked dryly.
"Of course it would!" Lena protested, throwing her arms up. "I don't want to walk next to a corpse!"
"You don't have to walk next to me," Aelius countered, sliding the flask back into nothingness with a flicker of magic. "You could always go back to kicking your broken cart."
Her cheeks flushed red, whether from embarrassment or irritation, he couldn't tell. "You're infuriating."
"And you're loud," Aelius said simply, already resuming his steady pace as though the conversation had drained him of interest.
"You really like the back and forth," she said, a sly grin tugging at her lips. "So what's your goal, anyway? You planning to lead me deep enough into the woods and… have your way with me?"
That stopped Aelius dead in his tracks. His boots sank a fraction into the dirt path as he came to a halt, the silence between them stretching. Slowly, deliberately, he turned his head, his mask catching the light in a way that made his expression unreadable.
"Drop it," he said. His voice carried none of its usual dry sarcasm, only a low, harsh chill that cut through the air like steel.
"Drop what?" Lena asked, her bravado cracking almost instantly. She took a cautious step back, her shoulders hunching, eyes wide with something close to fear.
"Vanessa. Drop. It."
Her breath hitched, a faint tremor in her stance. "I-I don't know what you mean," she stammered, her voice faltering as if the air itself had grown heavier. "M-my name's Lena, I just told you, "
"Now."
The single word thundered out of him, not loud but weighted, final. His gaze bore into her, piercing, unrelenting. The mask may have hidden his features, but his presence alone pressed down on her like a storm breaking.
And then it happened.
The already small girl seemed to shrink even further, as though wilting under that suffocating pressure. Her skin, once warm and sun-touched, paled in seconds, draining of color. The dark strands of her hair began to shimmer unnaturally before spilling down into a cascade of silver that reached her waist. Even her eyes betrayed her, shifting, bleeding from an ordinary brown into a vivid, haunting purple. She didn't dare meet his gaze, keeping them pinned to the ground.
"Care to explain," Aelius said, his voice sharp but eerily calm, "why you tried to lie to me? I thought I made it very clear how I felt after our last encounter."
Vanessa's hands clenched at her sides, her silver hair spilling forward as if it could shield her from the weight of his stare. "I, I'm sorry," she stammered, her voice shaking. "I'm sorry, please don't get mad again. I just, " she swallowed hard, her breath hitching. "I just saw you in town and I… I wanted to apologize. I-I-I wanted to be friends again, to make things better. I'm sorry!"
Her words tumbled out in a rush, broken and frantic. And still, with each syllable, she flinched, like every sound she made might trigger his wrath, like she fully expected him to lash out, to hurt her again.
The air between them was taut, heavy, a silence filled with memory and menace. Aelius didn't move, didn't soften. His flask remained in his hand, half-raised, forgotten. Behind the mask, his eyes narrowed ever so slightly, his body still as carved stone.
"I can't even try to keep the act up," Aelius sighed, sending the flask back into his requip with a flicker of magic. His tone softened, not warm, but the sharpest edges dulled, settling into that usual cold detachment that defined him. His eyes, though, lingered on Vanessa with a weight that made her shift uncomfortably in her shoes.
"I'm sorry," he went on, voice even, almost flat, but undeniably sincere in its own way. "I didn't think. I was angry. I should've trusted you wouldn't have gone that far of your own accord."
The words hung in the space between them, brittle as glass. Vanessa's mouth opened, but nothing came out. Her eyes, those bright, unnatural violets, flicked up to meet his, only to dart away again as if the contact burned. She hugged her arms against her chest, trembling, caught between disbelief and some fragile hope she barely dared to entertain.
Aelius rolled his eyes and spread his right arm somewhat, cloak falling open like a gate creaking loose. "Come on," he said flatly, "this is the only time I'll willingly let you touch me."
Vanessa froze for half a second, uncertain if it was some cruel joke. But when he didn't move, didn't retract the offer, she darted forward, throwing herself against him. Her arms clutched at his torso, and her face pressed deep into the folds of his cloak. The silver strands of her hair spilled out like moonlight across black fabric.
"I'm sorry," she whispered into him, words trembling, spilling in uneven rhythm. "I don't know why I did that, I don't know how I even got half the things for it. I'm sorry. Please, please don't hate me anymore."
Aelius's arm stiffened where it hung, bent and half-curled around her. He didn't close it, didn't return the embrace, but he didn't shove her away either. To her, it was something. To him, it was… tolerating. His emerald eyes narrowed on the treeline ahead, jaw tight behind the mask.
Aelius's voice cut through her muffled sobs like a blade through fog. "I don't hate you. I can't. It was all one of Nehzhars' games. So stop your crying, " his words dragged, sharp but edged with a fatigue that carried more weight than anger, "it's… weird for you to be like this. Uncomfortable. More so than me willingly letting you close."
Vanessa stiffened against him, the sound of her trembling breath breaking off into a hiccup. Slowly, she peeled her face from his cloak, though she kept her arms wound around him as if afraid he might vanish if she let go. Her vibrant purple eyes lifted toward him, wide and shimmering, but not with fear now, confusion, raw and aching.
"You… can't?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. It didn't sound like she believed him, but like she desperately wanted to. "Even after what I did? Even after I…?"
"Was manipulated by Nehzhar," Aelius cut in, finishing the thought for her. "I'm a lot of things, hypocrite included, but I'm not fool enough to blame you for a snare I walked into myself."
"Heh, so even the big bad Aelius can stumble into a trap?" Vanessa said, her voice wobbling with a strained attempt at humor. Still, she clung to him, unwilling to let go of the one-sided embrace.
"Already regretting this," Aelius muttered, his fingers twitching with the urge to swat her away like a fly.
"Maybe," Vanessa admitted with a little grin, tightening her arms around him like she'd snap in half before letting go. She let the silence stretch long enough to almost be comfortable before she piped up again. "So… does this mean we're good?"
"Yes, Vanessa," Aelius said, flat but firm. "What part of I know it wasn't your fault do you not understand?"
"I know, I know." She rocked back slightly, laughing nervously. "I just… wanted to hear you say it again."
Finally, she pulled away, her silver hair catching the sunlight as the vibrancy he remembered bled back into her movements. She threw her head back, arms out, voice ringing as though she were declaring it to the whole world: "I got my best friend back!"
Aelius groaned. "That's… extremely sad. For both of us, if I'm your best friend."
Vanessa tilted her head at him, curiosity flickering in her bright violet eyes. "How did you even know it was me, Aely? I've tricked people into thinking I was their own mother before. My transformations aren't sloppy."
"The giveaway," Aelius said dryly, "was the 'is where you have your way with me' part. That was the first thing you ever said to me." He shifted his mask slightly, as if adjusting it. "There were a few other tells, but that line? That confirmed it."
Vanessa blinked, then laughed sheepishly, scratching at her cheek. "Ah. Guess I should've retired that one…"
"You should've retired a lot of things," Aelius muttered.
"Sooo, uhm… what do we do now? Since we're… cool now?" Vanessa asked timidly, her voice smaller than usual. Her fingers twisted together, wringing nervously like a child awaiting punishment.
Aelius tilted his head, his mask catching a glint of sunlight as his gaze leveled on her. "Well, considering your parasitic nature, I imagine you'll be sticking to me. At least until something shinier catches your attention and you scamper off to cause chaos somewhere else."
Vanessa's pout only lasted a second before her face lit up, eyes sparkling. "You do love me!" she yelled, throwing herself at him with reckless joy.
Aelius stepped cleanly to the side, her arms closing around nothing but air. She stumbled forward, catching herself on the dirt path.
"Correction," Aelius said, voice flat, "I tolerate you."
Vanessa popped up again without missing a beat, brushing herself off and grinning like a fool. "Which, coming from you, is basically the same thing!"
Aelius pinched the bridge of his nose under his mask. "…Why do I even try?"
"Because somewhere in that cold, dead heart, you do love me. Even if admitting it would kill you," Vanessa said, darting ahead on the path with a skip in her step, silver hair bouncing in the sunlight like it was mocking him with every sway.
Aelius exhaled through his mask, the sound sharp, deliberate, like a blade sliding back into its sheath. "You really don't know when to stop, do you?" His long strides carried him after her without hurry, the dirt crunching beneath his boots in steady rhythm.
"Stopping's boring," she called over her shoulder, walking backward now, her hands clasped behind her back like she had all the time in the world. "Besides, I'd miss out on all your charming conversations. You, sulking. You, rolling your eyes. You, sighing so hard I swear the trees bend from the force." She tilted her head, lips curling mischievously. "You're a delight, really."
Aelius's fingers twitched at his side, the faintest motion of irritation barely restrained. "You're mistaking tolerance for affection. Again."
Vanessa twirled once in the middle of the path, nearly tripping over a rock but recovering with a laugh. "And you're mistaking your own denial for strength. It's fine, I've already accepted that you're emotionally stunted. That's part of your charm."
"Charm," Aelius echoed flatly, adjusting the strap of his cloak as he passed her. She fell back into step beside him, practically humming with energy compared to his looming silence.
The forest pressed in around them, birdsong flitting in and out with the breeze. Sunlight streamed through the canopy, catching on the dust motes stirred by their passage. The world looked deceptively peaceful, but Aelius knew better than to ever truly relax.
Vanessa, however, acted as though the entire world existed solely for her amusement. She kicked at pebbles, let her fingers trail along the bark of passing trees, and occasionally looked up at him with that knowing grin that made his shoulders tense.
"You know," she said finally, voice lighter but edged with something more thoughtful, "I thought you hated me. Like, really hated me. Not just the annoyed grumbling and scolding, but actually hated me." She tilted her head up toward him. "Now I think you just hate that you can't get rid of me."
Aelius gave her a sidelong glance, eyes narrowing faintly behind his mask. "…Not inaccurate."
She giggled, nudging his arm with her shoulder, though the effort barely moved him. "See? Progress."
He didn't dignify that with a response, only turning his gaze forward again, the steady rhythm of his boots carrying them farther down the winding road toward Magnolia. But the silence between them wasn't as heavy as it once might've been.
Vanessa noticed, of course, she always noticed. And with a soft hum, she fell into step beside him, her smile softening just a touch. "Best friends again. Told you I'd win you back."
"Don't push your luck," Aelius muttered, though his voice lacked its usual bite.
Vanessa grinned wider, skipping a half-step before matching his pace again. "Oh, I plan on pushing it. Constantly."
And like dime, she switched topics. "So, where are we heading? Magnolia, still your destination? Why? Got some secret mistress, or maybe somebody to kill?"
Aelius looked at her out of the corner of his eye. This was how she worked, innocent questions disguised as jokes, each one meant to dig, to prod, to drag answers out of him whether he liked it or not. He almost deflected, almost ignored her, but she already knew he was heading to Magnolia. And no matter what he said, she'd follow anyway, driven by that endless, unbridled curiosity.
"My guild is there," Aelius said finally. His voice didn't waver, didn't betray anything, but he knew nothing good would come of it. Still, at the very least, whatever hell Neshi decided to stir up, and whatever pestering the others decided to heap on him, would prove a distraction.
Vanessa slowed her steps, eyebrows shooting up in exaggerated surprise, though Aelius knew the act was just that, an act. "Your guild? Since when do you belong to anything that isn't sharp, miserable, and brooding?" She leaned closer, tilting her head so her silver hair brushed his arm. "Don't tell me you've gone soft and joined some ragtag family club that sings songs and eats dinner together."
Aelius didn't flinch, didn't turn, but he could feel her gaze crawling up the side of his mask like ivy trying to choke stone. She wanted him to slip, to show something. It was how she operated. Questions as jokes, jokes as knives. If she cut deep enough, he always bled answers.
"Don't project your fantasies onto me," he said, his tone flat enough to kill her feigned curiosity. He adjusted the strap of his cloak, as if the weight on his shoulders was suddenly heavier. "It isn't sentiment that keeps me tied there."
Vanessa hummed thoughtfully, clasping her hands behind her back again. "Mm, you say that, but you're still calling it your guild. That's not nothing, Aely. I mean, for you, that's practically a love confession." She skipped ahead two steps and spun to face him, walking backward so she could watch his expression, what little of it his mask allowed.
His eyes narrowed. "Careful."
The warning should have been enough to make anyone else back off. Not Vanessa. Never Vanessa. She only grinned wider, like she'd found the exact vein she wanted to tap. "Ooooh, so it is sentimental. I hit the mark." She leaned forward conspiratorially, lowering her voice like they were sharing some forbidden secret. "So what is it then? Someone worth protecting? Or maybe just someone who knows how to put up with your sulking long enough that you decided to stay?"
His silence was answer enough.
Aelius didn't stop walking, didn't break stride, but she saw it, the slight tightness in his shoulders, the way his gloved hands flexed just once before settling at his sides. She'd drawn blood.
"Ahhh, so there is someone," Vanessa said triumphantly, spinning back around to match his pace again. "Don't worry, I won't pry too hard. Yet." Her grin softened into something less sharp, less mocking. "Still… Magnolia, huh? Can't wait to see what sort of guild actually tolerates you. Bet they're saints."
"Or fools," Aelius muttered.
Vanessa laughed, bright and carefree, her voice ringing through the forest path. "Either way, this is going to be so much fun."
"I've made it clear I regret this already," Aelius said, exhaling through his mask, though his stride never faltered. "But fine. Let's go. I even have a home of my own now." He let the words hang for a moment, his voice dry but carrying something akin to pride beneath it. "And I don't mean the guild. I mean an actual house. One I built myself."
Vanessa's head tilted, curiosity sparking instantly in those violet eyes of hers. "You? Built a house? Like… with your own hands? Or did you bully the stones into stacking themselves out of fear?"
He shot her a flat look, one that only made her grin wider. "I'll take that as an invitation. I can't wait to see it."
Aelius groaned under his breath. "That wasn't an invitation."
"It is now," she said, skipping a step ahead of him, silver hair catching the sunlight like she'd already claimed victory.
"Just don't kill anybody," Aelius said as his pace lengthened, boots grinding into the dirt. He didn't bother looking back. Vanessa would catch up; she always did.
"How dare you make such an assumption!" Vanessa shrieked, her voice pitched high with mock offense. To anyone else, the act might have seemed genuine. To him, it was paper-thin theater. "I've never done anything like that to anybody."
Aelius's mask tilted slightly in her direction, his voice dry and cutting. "You rebounded quickly. Though that's par for the course with you."
She gasped, throwing a hand to her chest as though he'd struck her. "Rebounded? From what? I'm fragile. Sensitive. A delicate flower."
"More like an invasive weed."
Vanessa jogged a few steps to close the gap, her laughter carrying easily through the trees. "And yet here you are, stuck walking beside me. Guess that makes you the soil, doesn't it?"
Aelius didn't dignify her nonsense with more than a low exhale, but his silence only seemed to encourage her.
They walked in uneasy tandem, the silence broken only by Neshi skipping ahead like a child drunk on her own energy. She hummed, but it wasn't one tune; it was a dozen, tripping over each other, breaking apart, bleeding back together. A nursery rhyme bled into a tavern ballad, which shifted into a hymn before collapsing back into nonsense. It was grating, the kind of sound that clawed against the inside of Aelius's skull, but he kept his tongue still. If he said anything, she'd start talking again. Talking was worse.
She spun once, arms flared out like she was dancing, her silver hair cutting through the sunlight in bright streaks. Her steps looked careless, but her gaze wasn't. Every few turns, every unnecessary skip or twirl, her eyes flicked back to him. Watching. Measuring. Making sure.
She wanted him to think she was fine, untouched, unshaken, her usual chaos wound tight enough to spill over into her hellish mischief. But Aelius saw it, the strain under the act. The way her shoulders tightened when she thought he wasn't looking. The way her laughter came too quick, too loud, too practiced. And the way her eyes lingered on him a fraction longer than they should, like she was terrified he'd vanish if she blinked.
She was scared. Not of him, not anymore, but of waking up. Of discovering this was just another cruel trick her mind, or worse, Nehzhar, had conjured.
Stage for one, because calling it out would only invite more words, more noise, more questions. And right now, silence was mercy.
"So what's this guild of yours like?"
And there went his peace, shattered the moment she opened her mouth. It was uncanny, the way she always seemed to sense his thoughts and choose the exact moment to ruin them.
"A place you'll unfortunately fit in," Aelius said, his voice flat with resignation. He didn't look at her, didn't slow his stride, just let the words drag out with the sigh that followed. "Setting the place on fire is a daily occurrence. If it wasn't for the Master's paycheck as a saint, I doubt he'd be able to cover half the damages. Then again, he probably gets a discount for being ninety percent of the lumber sales."
Vanessa laughed, bright and unrestrained, skipping backward so she could watch his expression, or lack of one. "So you're saying I won't even stand out. Perfect."
"That was not a compliment," Aelius muttered, adjusting the line of his cloak.
"It was to me," she shot back with a grin that made his temples ache.
"I think you'll be too much for even them," Aelius said, tone flat as stone. His gaze stayed fixed on the road, boots steady in their rhythm. "So just keep me out of it."
Vanessa's grin faltered, only for a heartbeat, before she plastered it back on twice as wide. "Too much, huh? That almost sounds like admiration."
"It isn't," he replied without missing a beat.
She laughed anyway, "A Challenge then," before skipping ahead again, her silver hair catching the sun as though nothing he said could dent her mood.
It was a bad idea, probably the worst Aelius had ever had, and that was saying something. He had fought things that should not exist, stared into the hollow faces of monsters, and even entertained the insane notion of trusting Vanessa again. Yet this… this was worse.
The guild hall was on fire. Not metaphorically. Actual flames licked up one wall, climbing toward the rafters like they had been waiting for this exact moment to consume the place. Even for Fairy Tail, where mayhem was the day's bread and butter, this was impressive.
They had arrived by noon the next day, the sun glaring down on Magnolia as if to warn him: turn around now, before it's too late. He should have listened.
The moment Vanessa stepped inside, her eyes landed on Natsu with the sort of wonder that made Aelius's stomach sink. The dragon slayer was perched on a random chair, talking with his cat, casually munching fire from the palm of his hand.
Vanessa's gasp of delight had been all the warning he got.
In a blink, she was airborne. She had used Cana's back as a springboard, vaulting herself high enough to blot out the lantern light. For one fleeting moment, Aelius thought maybe, just maybe, she would miss her target and crash through a window instead. But no. She landed squarely on Natsu, the impact sending the startled dragon slayer sailing across the guild like a meteor.
He didn't hit the floor or even a wall. He hit Makarov.
The master had been halfway through his drink, perched on his favored spot atop the bar, when his own guildmate slammed into him like a sack of bricks. The collision sent him tumbling in a graceless heap, glass shattering around him. The room went still, just long enough for Cana to lose her balance.
Her barrel of alcohol tipped, and in her desperate attempt to save it, she launched herself forward. The wood slipped from her grasp, splashing its contents all over a nearby table of unsuspecting mages. The men roared in outrage, leaping to their feet. One threw a punch. Another flipped a chair. And within seconds, the guild exploded into a full-scale brawl.
Tables toppled, tankards flew, and the floor trembled under the weight of bodies colliding. Fire magic flared to life, lightning sparked off the ceiling beams, and someone, Aelius didn't even bother to see who, was already being used as a projectile.
Through it all, Vanessa landed lightly on her feet, dusting herself off with the smug satisfaction of someone who had just invented chaos and couldn't wait to patent it.
Aelius pinched the bridge of his nose under his mask, his patience already a fraying thread. "It's worse than I thought."
A chair sailed past his head and shattered against the wall. He didn't flinch.
Across the room, Natsu was shouting, Makarov was roaring, Cana was weeping over spilled alcohol, and Vanessa was smiling like a cat in cream.
And Aelius, against his better judgment, was still standing there, wondering if two million jewels had been nearly enough compensation for the headache he had just inherited.