Chapter 3: Magnolia's Hidden Flame
The sun rose gently over Magnolia Town, spilling golden light through the stained-glass windows of the Fairy Tail guildhall. Ren awoke early, the voices of early risers drifting through the wooden walls of the dormitory. The echo of yesterday's duel with Natsu still rang in his bones—not from pain, but from the sensation of his magic reacting so violently.
> I can shut down Dragon Slayer magic… but why? And how?
His thoughts were a storm. He had no dragon parent, no teacher. His Anti-Magic was instinctual—raw, hungry. It came out when threatened, but he had no idea how to train it. No mentor. No history to study.
He needed answers.
---
Downstairs, the guild was already stirring. Macao and Wakaba were arguing over card games, Mirajane was helping prepare breakfast, and Cana had somehow gotten a barrel of ale before 9 a.m.
Ren sat at the bar quietly, sipping milk. Just as he began to relax, a firm presence approached.
"You look like someone trying to meditate while sitting on a lit stove," said a voice.
He turned. Erza stood beside him, arms crossed, red hair tied back in a simple ponytail. She was already in light armor—even early in the morning, she was ready to fight.
Ren managed a weak smile. "That obvious, huh?"
"Like a beacon in the dark," she said. "Come with me."
Before he could ask where, she was already walking.
---
They ended up at the eastern edge of Magnolia, where the forest began again. It was quiet here, away from the bustle of the guild and the noise of the town. Erza led him to a small cliffside that overlooked the river, where a training circle had been scorched into the ground—marks of spells, footprints, and battle worn dirt.
"I come here to train in the mornings," she explained. "And you clearly need it."
Ren folded his arms. "Wow. Thanks for the vote of confidence."
Erza ignored the sarcasm. "You have raw power. But power without control is a curse. You saw how the others looked at you yesterday."
He winced. "Yeah."
"You scare them," she said bluntly. "But you don't have to."
Ren looked down at his hands. "I didn't choose this magic. It just… lives in me. It wakes up when I'm angry, or scared. When I'm cornered. It's like it wants to erase everything around me."
Erza nodded. "Then we teach it boundaries."
She stepped into the training ring and summoned a simple sword from her pocket dimension, Requip magic shimmering around her.
"Hit me."
"What?"
"You heard me," she said. "Use your Anti-Magic. I want to see it in controlled bursts."
Ren hesitated. "What if I hurt you?"
"If you can land a hit, you deserve to hurt me."
Ren laughed softly despite himself, then stepped into the circle.
---
They trained for an hour.
Ren tried to summon his magic in controlled amounts—coils of black mist, shadows that snuffed out energy. At first, it was wild. Too much too fast. It lashed out, nearly striking Erza in the face. But she didn't flinch. She kept pressing him—dodging, blocking, countering.
"Focus!" she barked. "You're letting emotion fuel it. Pull it in. Command it."
He clenched his fists. The sigil on his arm flared. The mist obeyed—just slightly.
But that slight control was a start.
---
Later, as they rested beneath the shade of a tree, Erza broke the silence.
"I wasn't born with armor," she said quietly. "I had to learn how to build it… after I lost everything."
Ren glanced at her. She wasn't looking at him. Her eyes were on the river, far away.
"I used to be trapped," she continued. "In a tower. A prison. I watched friends die. I survived by turning pain into discipline. Fear into steel."
Ren's breath caught. She had never talked about this in the anime—not like this. Not to anyone.
"I can't help you with your magic, Ren," she said. "But I can help you carry the weight of it. If you let me."
He looked away, swallowing emotion. "Thank you."
---
That night, Magnolia lit up in celebration. A traveling merchant caravan had arrived in town and was hosting a street fair. Colorful lanterns floated above the stalls, children ran with sparklers, and the smell of grilled skewers and sweet buns filled the air.
Fairy Tail, of course, was deep in the festivities.
Natsu was challenging people to fire-eating contests (and winning), Gray had somehow already lost his shirt, and Mirajane was hosting a "cutest guild member" contest—with herself as judge.
Ren wandered through the crowd, unsure of where he fit in, when a voice called out:
"There you are!"
It was Mirajane, smiling like the sun itself. "We need someone to light the final lantern."
"Me?" he asked, startled.
"Why not? You're the new blood. Tradition!"
Before he could argue, he was handed a large paper lantern glowing with soft golden light. The entire plaza turned toward him, waiting.
Ren stepped forward slowly, his heart pounding. Everyone was watching.
He looked down at the flame inside the lantern. It danced gently—small, but alive. Magic, in its purest form. And for the first time, he didn't feel the urge to erase it.
He smiled softly and released the lantern.
It floated up, joining hundreds of others—tiny lights against the endless night.
And for once… Ren didn't feel like a weapon.
He felt like part of something.
He felt like a Fairy Tail wizard.