Aelius really wished he were literally anywhere else right now.
He also deeply regretted not specifying a limit on how many people were allowed to be present for this… intervention. Because that was clearly what this was, no matter what softer word they wanted to dress it up with.
Including himself, there were ten people.
Makarov and Lisanna were expected. He had technically invited those two. Levy came as well, which he did not mind; she was one of the closest people to him out of everyone present. Vanessa was there as well, which was fair. Uncomfortable, but fair. She had known him the longest, and her magic made lying pointless anyway.
But Erza, Natsu, Gray, Happy, and Lucy? That made no sense. He still did not know why they were there, and if it were not for the look on Makarov's face when Aelius opened the door, he would have shut it immediately. The old man only wore that expression when things were bad. The kind of bad that meant walking away would make it worse.
So Aelius stepped aside and let them in.
Now he was sitting outside on the back patio, chair angled away from the house, boots planted firmly against the stone. He had made it very clear that if this was going to happen, it would not happen inside. He knew himself well enough to know that something would slip. His control always frayed when emotions got involved, and the last thing he needed was to rot his own home from the inside out. The forest behind the house was quiet, mercifully uninterested in whatever drama was unfolding on his deck.
The group stood awkwardly at first. No one quite sure where to sit or if they should sit at all. Makarov eventually took the chair closest to him. Lisanna hovered nearby, hands clasped in front of her like she was afraid he might vanish if she blinked. Levy sat cross-legged on the railing, book tucked under her arm out of habit. Vanessa leaned against a post, already nursing a stolen drink. Erza stood, of course, she stood, arms crossed, posture straight, like this was a disciplinary hearing. Natsu and Gray were quieter than usual, which somehow made it worse. Lucy looked uncomfortable, glancing between faces. Happy floated near Natsu, ears drooped slightly.
Aelius stared out at the trees and waited. No one spoke for a few seconds. Finally, Makarov cleared his throat. "You know why we're here."
"No," Aelius replied flatly. "I know why you're here. I don't know why half of them are."
Natsu bristled immediately. "Oi, what's that supposed to mean?"
"It means," Aelius said without looking at him, "that if this turns into a shouting match, I'm leaving."
"That's exactly the problem," Erza cut in. Her voice was calm, controlled, sharp. "You always leave."
Aelius finally turned his head, eyes sliding to her. "We're starting strong, I see."
Erza did not flinch. "We're starting honest."
Vanessa snorted into her glass. "Told you subtle wouldn't work."
Lisanna shifted. "Aelius, we're not here to attack you."
"Then this is a terrible way to show it," he said evenly.
Levy leaned forward slightly. "We're worried about you."
That one landed harder than the rest. Aelius looked down at his hands, fingers flexing once. The magic under his skin stirred, responding to irritation, to pressure, to the sense of being cornered. He forced it back down.
"I'm functional," he said. "Alive. Not actively destroying anything. By my standards, I'm doing great."
"That's not a standard," Lucy said quietly, surprising him.
He looked at her and saw that she wasn't judging him. Just… concerned. That pissed him off more than he would ever admit. "Why are you even here, Heartfilia?" he asked lowly, eyes narrowing beneath his mask. "Last time we interacted, you flinched."
Makarov's eyes widened a fraction, something Aelius caught immediately. "Ah," Aelius continued, voice cool and sharp, "so you didn't tell him. You only tell when you won't get in trouble."
His gaze shifted from Lucy to Natsu and Gray, then finally to Erza. "Go ahead," he said. "Tell the master why you flinched. Why the rest of you tensed like I was feral."
No one answered. Lucy looked guilty. Good. Erza was thinking, weighing her words. Natsu and Gray just didn't want to speak; that was a first.
Erza broke the silence first. "It was a… day, Aelius. And you were clearly not in the right state of mind earlier. We didn't know how you'd react."
Aelius nodded along, slow, like she was making sense. "So something goes wrong, and that's when you see me as a monster?" His voice dipped into a light growl. "So why even try? If the moment something happens, you think I'm resorting to killing a comrade over a mild disagreement?"
"You blinded Evergreen over a mild disagreement," Gray muttered under his breath.
Aelius's control lasted shorter than even he expected. Nothing happened yet, his cloak and mask suppressing the outburst, but the pressure spiked hard enough that he knew Makarov felt it.
"Evergreen threatened and tried to kill multiple people," Aelius snarled. "Three of which are around you. All of whom are your friends, Fullbuster. And it was through the Master's request that I didn't kill her. That she's still alive."
His grip tightened around the chair arm. The wood cracked under his fingers.
"Enough, boy," Makarov said before anyone else could respond, or before Aelius could continue. His tone was firm, final. "You're deflecting. You have a point, and we will talk about this later. But that is not the reason we are here."
"So why are you—" he was cut off as Makarov pulled out the lacrima Aelius had given him a few days prior. Even Makarov himself looked hesitant, his grip tightening slightly as he held it up, but whatever doubt he had was crushed by resolve.
"Merlin," Makarov said, voice steady, "you said that was his name. This lacrima… it recorded your conversation. And a few prior ones, if I had to guess." The air tightened instantly. Everyone present went tense, like they were waiting for Aelius to snap.
"…..What do I say?" Aelius asked slowly.
Makarov didn't hesitate. He funneled magic into the lacrima.
"Tell me about your guild," Merlin's voice echoed out from it, distorted and hollow.
"Fine.….. Fine." The voice that followed was Aelius's, but not really. Rough, uneven, fractured in a way that made it obvious this wasn't him speaking now. There's… Makarov. The guildmaster. He's… a good person. Tries when others stop. Prioritizes helping over his own life. He's… I like him. I guess I'm afraid of disappointing him over and over, but it seems like that's all I ever do."
There was no response from Merlin, so the recording continued.
"Then there's Levy… she's stupid." A pause. "Not in a bad way. Well. The normal way, I guess. She's a lot like Makarov. Stubborn. Selfless. She likes to try to break into my house. Broke her foot once. I could've probably healed it, but I didn't tell her that. Figured she deserved it for trying to kick my door in."
Aelius could feel Levy's eyes on him at that part, sharp and searching, but something told him they had already heard this. None of them looked surprised. That, more than anything, made his stomach twist.
The recording went on. Makarov never took his eyes off Aelius, not once, like looking away might make him vanish.
The voice from the lacrima kept speaking. Erza. Stronger than most of the guild, weaker than she should be, still too naive, too rigid, with that knight act of hers grated on him, the way she clung to rules and honor like they were absolutes, like the world hadn't already proven otherwise.
Natsu. A walking miracle of survival. Blessed by some god of luck or stupidity, maybe both. No one should be able to do half of what he did and still be breathing, let alone smiling through it.
Gray. Barely the most tolerable of the group. Not because Aelius liked him, but because Gray mostly kept to himself and didn't pretend otherwise.
Lucy. Someone he disliked for being loud and clueless. Someone he would tolerate. Only because of Virgo.
Each name landed heavier than the last. Not because the words were cruel, but because they were honest. Too honest. The kind of honesty you only let out when you think no one will ever hear it.
Then the tone shifted, Aelius recognized this conversation, and scowled under the mask.
"The only people whose opinions I care about… I want them to look at me and call me a monster. Tell me to leave. Tell me I've gone too far." The words sat in the air, raw, like a fresh wound. "But the only people I ever let that close," the recording continued, quieter now, "are the ones who won't."
The lacrima went silent. Makarov rested his hand on it, fingers curled protectively around the crystal. No one spoke, no one moved. The forest behind the house felt unnaturally still, like even it was listening.
Aelius stared straight ahead, jaw tight, hands clenched, his mask hiding everything except the weight pressing down on him. He didn't look at them. He didn't need to.
"So what?" Aelius asked after a moment. "None of that is something I try to hide."
"Aelius…" Makarov sighed. "Gray and Vanessa told me about your suicide attempt."
Levy gasped at that. So she hadn't been told everything. Apparently, Natsu hadn't either, and Lisanna already had tears in her eyes. Great.
"It was taken out of context," Aelius said flatly.
"Bullshit," Vanessa snapped. "You were dying, and you refused to take the X-Ball that would've saved you." Her voice was sharp with anger. That wound clearly hadn't closed for her.
The air went tense, heavy enough to choke on, but it didn't last long.
Levy's hands flew up to her mouth. "You… you tried to kill yourself," she said softly, like raising her voice might shatter him completely.
"Yeah! What the hell, Aelius!" Natsu yelled, slamming both hands onto the table between them so hard the wood rattled. "I know you've got issues, but that's just wrong!"
Aelius rolled his eyes, slow and deliberate. "It was less suicide and more that I was dying to Edolas's Erza, and I was content to let it happen."
Gray shot to his feet. He was breathing hard now, fists clenched at his sides. "I told you the X-Ball would save you. I shoved it at you, and you pushed it away. You gave this whole speech about being happy, about it being a choice." His voice cracked, just barely. "You said, word for word, 'For the first time in years, I don't feel that cursed magic crawling under my skin. I don't have to worry that if I sneeze too hard, I'll kill everyone around me. All the horrors can be done. I can be done.'"
The silence that followed was thick and ugly.
"That wasn't context," Gray continued. "That was you giving up." He swallowed. "I agree with Vanessa. Bullshit, it wasn't suicide. You might be a dick sometimes, but everyone here remembers you when you were younger. You're still our friend, whether you like it or not."
That did it. Aelius's control snapped, fast and sharp. A low growl tore out of him. His head lifted, eyes burning beneath the mask. "You. Are. Not. My. Friends." He spoke slowly, making sure every word landed. "My friends all die. You are still alive. What more proof do you need?"
Vanessa slammed her hands down beside Natsu's, the impact loud. "I'm still alive, dumbass. You really going to tell me we aren't close after all the shit we've been through?"
"Aelius." Makarov's voice cut through everything. It was deep, weighted, carrying the kind of authority that only came from a man who had watched generations rise and fall.
"My child," he said quietly. "I am sorry, son. I hoped. I prayed. I thought if we gave you time, if we let you be, you would come back to us on your own." His grip tightened on his cane. "But this lacrima confirms what I feared."
Aelius stiffened.
"You spoke to Merlin truthfully," Makarov continued. "Because you believed none of us would ever hear it. And even if you are angry that your words were recorded, that does not change what they revealed." He looked straight at him. "You need help, my boy."
The pressure snapped outward. Aelius's cloak lifted, fabric billowing as if caught in a storm that did not exist. Magic poured off him in waves, thick and poisonous, curling through the air. The chair beneath him disintegrated into dust, collapsing in on itself, only the broken legs clattering uselessly against the stone.
Several people flinched back. Even Erza shifted her stance. Aelius stood there, breathing hard, hands trembling at his sides. He did not look at any of them.
"I didn't ask to be saved," he said, voice low and raw. "And I didn't ask to be dragged back into a world that keeps pretending I'm something I'm not."
"That's exactly why you need help, Aelius," Makarov shot back, not backing down an inch. "You need help. And today, you're starting. Even if I have to hold you down and force-feed you help."
"How?" Aelius snapped, his hands flying up. "How can you, any of you, help me?" He gestured sharply at himself. The edges of his cloak were unraveling now, threads smoking where his magic ate through them. "How do you help this? I'm a walking catastrophe."
"By not letting you deal with it alone," Makarov said immediately.
"That's not an answer."
"It is," Vanessa cut in. "You just don't like it."
Aelius turned on her. "You can't lie your way out of an infection."
"No," she shot back. "But I can call you on your bullshit when you decide you're better off dead."
Levy stepped forward, hesitant but firm. "You keep saying you're dangerous, like that means we should abandon you. That's not how this guild works."
"Then your guild's stupid," Aelius said flatly.
Natsu bristled. "Hey."
"I'm serious," Aelius continued. "You don't lock a bomb in a house full of people and call it safe."
Erza crossed her arms. "You don't exile someone because they're dangerous either. You train them. You watch them. You step in when they lose control."
"You think you can stop me?" Aelius asked, almost mocking.
"If we have to," Erza replied without hesitation.
"Stupid," Aelius snarled. "This is exactly why I can't tolerate you, Scarlet. There is no way to stop me." His voice sharpened, magic flickering low and ugly around his boots. "The only people in this guild who could even try are Makarov and Gildarts, and honestly? I'm not convinced either of them could if I really lost control." That landed harder than shouting ever could.
Erza's jaw tightened, but she didn't move. "You don't get to decide everyone else's limits."
"I absolutely do," Aelius shot back. "Because I'm the variable. I'm the thing that breaks when pushed."
Makarov slammed his cane against the stone. The crack echoed across the patio. "Enough."
Aelius turned on him immediately. "You know I'm right."
"I know you're scared," Makarov said, voice steady. "And I know you're trying to scare everyone else, so they'll back off."
Vanessa nodded once. "Classic you, honestly."
Aelius scoffed. "Don't psychoanalyze me."
"I don't need to," she said. "You're loud about it."
"OH, I'm loud about it?" Aelius spat. "That's rich, coming from you." He turned fully toward Vanessa now, magic flaring sharp at the edges. "Your personality switches faster than a coin flip. Don't patronize me, hypocrite. You know I hate them."
Vanessa's smile vanished. "Careful."
"Or what?" Aelius shot back. "You'll run around in circles and call it helping?"
"That's not what I'm doing," she snapped. "And you know it."
"I know you like feeling in control," Aelius said. "I know you like pretending you've got everyone figured out. You don't. Especially not me."
Vanessa stood up. "I watched you rot from the inside out and still walk back into this guild as if nothing happened."
"And I didn't ask you to," Aelius growled.
Makarov struck his cane against the ground again. "Enough. Both of you."
Vanessa clenched her fists but sat back down, jaw tight.
Aelius exhaled hard through his nose, cloak settling again, though the air still felt wrong around him. "This is exactly what I'm talking about. You all think this is some argument you can win. It's not."
Levy swallowed. "Then what do you want, Aelius?"
"I don't know!" Aelius snapped. "I want to die, but I'm not fucking allowed to." His voice cracked hard on the words. "I'm pretty sure I'm immortal. Nehzhar left me as just a head once, and somehow, even with my magic drained, I still lived."
He slammed his foot down. Stone split beneath it, a sharp crack echoing out as magic bled into the ground. "But even then," he continued, gesturing wide at the house, the trees, the quiet space around them, "this. I want more of this. And I don't deserve it."
The cracks spread, spiderwebbing out toward the others. A few of them took an unconscious step back.
"You're all here trying to fix me," Aelius said, voice rising. "But half the pieces are gone, and you don't even have the blueprint. You want the old me back, but he's dead."
He pointed sharply at Lisanna.
"He died the day I left. He died the day I became S Class. All because I was stupid enough to make friends with her sister." His cloak finally gave out, disintegrating into ash and magic. What was left was just him. White shirt. Mask. Arms bare.
The Fairy Tail mark stood out stark against his forearm. The magic around him didn't stop, but it wavered.
"This is what's left," Aelius said, quieter now. "Take it or don't. But stop pretending I'm something you can put back together."
No one cut him off. No one rushed in with another argument or some half-baked reassurance. So he kept going, because stopping meant thinking, and thinking meant everything caught up.
His voice dropped, not softer, just emptied out, like whatever fuel he'd been running on finally burned through. "I don't even know if this is me anymore," Aelius said. "Or if it's some trick. I pissed off the scariest mage in history, one who specializes in mind magic. I don't know if this anger is mine. I don't know if the sadness is real, or planted, or if I'm just following some long plan he set up for me. Every time I feel something, I start wondering if it's even allowed to be mine."
His hands curled slowly at his sides, fingers trembling now that the magic surge was fading instead of exploding. The cracks in the stone stopped spreading.
"I just want it to stop," he said. "I don't want to watch anyone else die. I don't want you to die."
No one jumped in right away. The words hung there, ugly and exposed, like something that shouldn't have been said out loud but couldn't be taken back either. The magic bleeding off him left a pressure behind, not heat or rot this time, just a dull ache in his bones like he'd run himself hollow.
Levy was the first to move, slowly and carefully stopping a few steps away instead of closing the distance. "You don't get to decide that alone," she said. Her voice shook, but she didn't back down. "About us. About dying."
Natsu crossed his arms, jaw tight, fire flickering once in his chest before settling. "You think you're the only one who's lost people?" he said. "You think that gives you the right to check out whenever it gets bad?"
Aelius looked at him, really looked, and for once didn't snap back. "I think," he said flatly, "that everyone around me keeps paying for my existence. And eventually, I run out of excuses for why it won't happen again."
Makarov stepped closer, ignoring the cracked stone underfoot. "You're not cursed to be alone," he said. "You're choosing it because it feels safer."
"That's bullshit," Aelius shot back, but it lacked bite. "Safer for who?"
"For you," Erza said. "If you push everyone away, you don't have to watch them get hurt. You don't have to care."
His shirt decayed where his magic brushed it, fabric flaking away into dust, leaving the scar Nehzhar carved into him exposed to the open air. It was ugly, wrong, a reminder burned straight into his chest. "This," he said, tapping it once with two fingers, "is what caring looks like, Scarlet."
Erza didn't look away. Her jaw tightened, but she held his gaze, eyes flicking to the scar and back up to his mask. "That doesn't make it okay," she said. "Hurting yourself doesn't prove anything."
"I'm not trying to prove anything," Aelius snapped. "I'm explaining. Every time I care, this is the result. People die. Things break. I lose control. And everyone looks at me like they're waiting for it to happen again."
Levy's voice was small when she spoke. "We're scared," she admitted. "But not of you. Of losing you."
He scoffed. "Same outcome."
"No," Makarov said firmly. "Fear makes people pull away. Love makes them stay. You don't get to decide which one this is for us.
"SO WHO DOES," Aelius snarled, magic flaring hard enough to make the air distort around him. He stepped forward, stone grinding under his boots. "You?"
He laughed once, sharp and ugly. "You think that's better? You think that fixes it? You stay, and then what, Master? You watch until I lose control? Until I misjudge one spell, one second, and someone here doesn't get back up?"
His hand clenched, the fairy tail mark on his forearm stark against his skin. "You say love makes you stay, like that's some shield. It's not. It just means you're closer when it happens."
He dragged a hand through his hair, breathing hard now. "I don't get to decide, fine. But I'm the one who has to live with it. Every name. Every face. Every time I care,d and it ended the same way."
His voice dropped, rough. "So don't tell me staying is enough. Because I'm the one who pays for it when it isn't."
Makarov didn't raise his voice. He didn't step back either. He stayed where he was, planted like he always was when things got bad.
"Then you don't pay alone," he said. "That's it. That's the whole answer."
Aelius barked a laugh, short and humorless. "You keep saying that like it changes the math."
"It does," Makarov replied immediately. "You just don't like the result."
The magic around Aelius sputtered, not gone, but unstable, like a fire running out of fuel. His shoulders sagged a fraction. Not much. Enough.
"You think I haven't buried people?" Makarov went on. "You think I don't remember every face that didn't come home? I've lost children, Aelius. I've watched them die believing it was their fault for being too weak, too angry, too scared." His jaw tightened. "I won't let you add yourself to that list."
Vanessa shifted closer, quiet but present. "You don't get how obvious it is," she said. "You're not trying to destroy things. You're trying to hold everything together with hands that can't cover the whole thing. You just need more people to help you hold it together."
Aelius shook his head. "You don't know that."
Levy stepped forward despite herself. "We do," she said, voice small but steady. "Because if you didn't care, none of this would hurt you. You wouldn't be standing here breaking your own house instead of walking away."
Silence stretched again.
Aelius looked down at his hands. They were still shaking. "If I stay," he said slowly, "this doesn't stop. The thoughts don't stop. The fear doesn't stop."
"No," Makarov agreed. "It doesn't."
Aelius's head snapped up.
"But," Makarov continued, "you won't be dealing with it by yourself anymore. And if you fall apart, we pick up what we can. That's the deal."
Aelius swallowed. Hard. "And when I hurt someone."
Makarov met his eyes without flinching. "Then we deal with that too. Together."
The word hit harder than any spell.
Aelius's magic finally bled off completely, the pressure vanishing so fast the air felt wrong without it. He stumbled back a step, then another, before dropping onto the cold stone where the chair had been, legs bent awkwardly, hands braced at his sides.
"I… just go," he said, voice tight, staring at the ground instead of them. "All of you. Before I start crying or something stupid."
No one moved right away.
"Master," he added after a beat, quieter, almost reluctant. "You can stay." He swallowed, jaw working. "You win. I'll… do something. I guess saying the same shit over and over did work."
His shoulders slumped, the fight finally gone out of him. He didn't look up. Not at Levy, not at Erza, not at anyone.
"Just… give me a minute," he muttered.
No one moved at first. The quiet after his magic faded was worse than the noise, like everyone was afraid that if they breathed too loudly, he'd snap again. Aelius kept his head down, mask angled toward the stone, shoulders tight like he was bracing for a hit that never came. The words had cost him more than the outburst ever did, and now that they were out, he didn't have anything left to prop himself up with. He didn't look at them when he spoke, didn't need to. "I'm serious," he added, voice rough but steady enough. "Go. Before this gets worse."
Makarov hesitated, eyes flicking over the cracks in the patio, the dust where furniture used to be, the way Aelius sat like gravity had doubled just for him. Then he turned, sharp and final, clapping his cane once against the stone. "You heard him." No argument, no debate. Just an order. Erza stiffened but nodded. Levy lingered, clearly wanting to say something, anything, but Vanessa put a hand on her shoulder and gently steered her back. Natsu looked like he wanted to fight the world about it, but Gray dragged him away by the collar before he could open his mouth. Levy was the last to go, pausing just long enough to glance back, worry written plain on her face, before she followed the others inside.
Aelius let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, shoulders slumping further now that there was no one left to perform in front of. He scrubbed a hand over his face, fingers dragging over the edge of his mask like he was debating ripping it off and deciding against it at the last second. "That was a mistake," he muttered. "Letting it get that far."
Makarov moved slowly, deliberately, and lowered himself onto the stone across from him. Not too close. "Maybe," he said. "But it's done now." He rested his cane between his hands. "You don't get points for handling this perfectly, Aelius. You get points for not running."
Aelius stared at the stone for a long moment before the words finally came out. "…thank you," he muttered, quiet enough that it almost didn't count.
Makarov chuckled softly, the sound tired but warm. "For what?" he said, tilting his head. "For doing my job? For dealing with my idiot child?" His smile widened just a bit. "That's what I'm supposed to do."
Aelius snorted despite himself. "You're bad at picking favorites," he said. "You keep doing this for everyone."
"That's the point," Makarov replied easily. He shifted on the bench, cane tapping once against the stone. "If I only did it for the easy ones, I wouldn't be much of a guild master."
Aelius leaned back, resting his elbows on his knees, fingers lacing together. His hands had finally stopped shaking. "I didn't plan for it to blow up like that," he said. "I figured I'd get annoyed, say something sharp, and leave. Instead…" He gestured vaguely at the ruined patio.
"Instead, you stayed," Makarov said.
Aelius grimaced. "Barely."
"Still counts," the old man replied. "You didn't disappear. You didn't lock yourself away. You didn't pretend none of it mattered." His gaze sharpened, just slightly. "That's more than you give yourself credit for."
Aelius didn't respond right away. Then, quietly, "Don't make a habit of being right. I hate that."
Makarov laughed, full and unrestrained this time. "I'll try," he said. "No promises."
Aelius stared at the stone between his boots for a long moment before speaking again. His voice was steadier now, but only because he was forcing it to be.
"I do want to get better," he said quietly. "I keep leaving myself notes. Things I should fix. Things I should stop doing. I try. I really do." His fingers dug into his palms. "I want to be around them. Around you. But every time I try, something happens. Oración Seis, Nehzhar, Edolas. It's always something."
He swallowed. "I'm scared. I'm scared that one day I won't be enough to stop it. That I'll be too slow, or too weak, or just wrong, and people will die because of it." His shoulders hunched in on themselves.
He let out a short, humorless breath. "When I came back…..just before I….died, I told you all I wanted everyone to hate me. That it'd be simpler that way." His voice dropped. "And sometimes I think I'm doing a pretty good job of it."
Makarov didn't answer right away. He just reached out and rested a hand on Aelius's shoulder, firm and grounding. Eventually, Makarov leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Then you won't," he said simply. "And it will hurt. And we'll grieve. And we'll keep going." His gaze hardened, not unkind but firm. "You don't get to decide that the possibility of loss means you don't try. That's not protecting people. That's running before the fight even starts."
Aelius shook his head. "You don't get it. When I mess up, people die."
"When anyone messes up, people die," Makarov shot back. "You just see the bodies more clearly." He sighed, rubbing a hand over his beard. "You think making them hate you will make it easier when you leave or fall. It won't. All it does is make you bleed alone."
Aelius swallowed hard. "I don't know how to stop doing it."
"Good," Makarov said. "That means you're finally being honest." He straightened a little. "Here's how we start. You don't disappear. You don't push everyone away and call itself-controll. You come to the guild. You sit there. You leave when it's too much. And when something breaks, we deal with it together." His eyes softened. "That's it. No grand promises. No martyr nonsense."
Aelius stared at him for a long moment. Then his shoulders slumped, just a fraction, like something heavy finally loosened its grip. "That sounds… doable," he admitted.
Makarov smiled, small but real. "That's the point, my boy. Now I want you to just talk to me. Anything that comes to mind. Good or bad. Think you're up to that."
Aelius didn't answer. Not right away. They sat there in the quiet, the air finally calm again. Then he leaned back, letting half his body sink onto the cool stone and the other half into the grass, staring up at the sky.
"I saw something," he said eventually. "It was me. But not. I had these massive wings. My body was rotting and regenerating, like when I first came back." His voice was flat, like he was reciting facts instead of fear. "But it was… perfect. Wrong. But perfect."
Makarov didn't interrupt.
"I… I haven't been honest about my magic, Master," Aelius said slowly. This wasn't something he said lightly. Only three other people knew, and only because they'd been trapped in the same mess with him. "I'm not a God Slayer, not like how Natsu, Wendy, or Gajeel are Dragon Slayers."
He went quiet again, jaw tight beneath the mask, clearly fighting for the right words. "It's… chaos. Chaos God Slayer, I guess, if it needs a name." His voice stayed steady, but there was a strain underneath it. "My magic isn't just dangerous. It's wrong. It's meant to spread. Like a disease. It twists people, breaks them, turns them into things they never wanted to be just to keep itself going."
He swallowed. "My grandfather called it the Warp. A place, or a state, I don't know. Insanity, power, everything all at once. And nothing. It bleeds into me when I use it."
Aelius's hand clenched in the grass. "I don't just kill things. I make monsters. Demons. Sometimes I think that means I am one. Zeref, things like him, maybe worse. There are entire realms full of things born from it."
He finally looked at Makarov then, eyes sharp but tired, almost bracing for impact. "So tell me," he said quietly. "After hearing that… do you really think I deserve anything other than pain?"
Makarov was quiet for a long moment. Not the heavy, judging kind. The kind that meant he was actually listening.
Then he let out a slow breath and shifted closer, sitting down on the stone beside Aelius instead of standing over him. "You really don't hear yourself sometimes, do you?" he said, voice rough but calm. "You keep telling me what your magic does. Not what you do."
Aelius didn't answer.
"You say it spreads, twists, and turns people into monsters," Makarov continued. "And yet every story you've told me ends with you trying to stop it, contain it, or carry it alone so no one else has to." He tapped the stone with his cane. "That's not the thinking of a demon."
Aelius scoffed weakly. "Doesn't undo damage."
"No," Makarov agreed. "But it matters. A lot more than you think." He glanced at the cracked patio, the ruined chair. "If deserving pain was the requirement for power like yours, this world would already be empty."
Aelius's fingers twitched. "I don't trust it," he admitted. "Sometimes it feels… right. Like if I let go, everything would be easier, cleaner. I hate that part of it."
Makarov nodded once. "Good. Hold onto that." His voice hardened just a little. "Because the day you stop hating that feeling is the day I'll start worrying."
Silence settled again, softer this time.
"You don't get punished for surviving, Aelius," Makarov said. "And you don't get exiled for being afraid of yourself. What you do get is responsibility. And help. Whether you like it or not."
Aelius stared up at the sky through the trees, jaw tight. "…You're not scared?"
"Not of my own child, No"