Time had continued to pass, each day a little more normal than the last, though still tinged with the residual weight of everything that had come before.
Erza and Irene had come a long way since that first fragile conversation. There were no grand gestures, only small moments that built up over time.
And in the quiet aftermath, Irene had made the decision to stay at my home, at least for the time being. She needed the space, the peace to rebuild herself, to make up for all the years lost. There was no rush, no expectation.
There were still days when Irene would retreat into herself, the weight of her past still heavy on her shoulders. But there were more days when I saw glimpses of the woman she could be.
I wasn't sure when the shift happened, but at some point, we stopped being strangers. What had started as an arrangement born out of necessity had slowly morphed into something more natural, something that felt a little more like home.
Irene didn't really need to clean or cook—after all, we had golems for that—but she insisted on doing little things herself.
Sometimes, she'd make breakfast in the mornings, an old habit she'd rediscovered. Other times, she'd keep me company as I worked on missions, her quiet presence a grounding force in a life that could often feel lonely.
One evening, after a long mission, I came back to the fortress later than usual. As I walked inside, I heard the soft sound of a book closing.
Irene was sitting by the hearth, a familiar spot for her, and as soon as I walked in, her eyes lifted from her book.
"Long day?" she asked, her voice warm but calm.
"Yeah," I replied, kicking off my boots and shrugging off my gear. "Some rogue mages thought they could take on the guild. It didn't go well for them."
Irene raised an eyebrow. "Did you have fun at least?"
I smiled, though it was a tired one. "Fun? More like another job done. But I'm alive, so that counts for something."
She didn't respond right away, but I could feel her eyes on me. It wasn't the kind of studying look she'd given me before, like she was trying to figure me out.
I sat down in the chair across from her, letting my body relax into the familiar comfort of the space.
Finally, Irene spoke again, her voice quiet. "I never properly thanked you."
I looked up, meeting her gaze. "You don't have to."
She shook her head. "I know I don't have to, but I still should. For everything—for taking me in, for helping me get back to myself."
"You don't need to thank me," I said, my voice softer now. "You've been through enough."
She looked down at her hands, as if processing my words, before lifting her gaze to meet mine. "I wasn't sure if I'd ever be able to... be myself again," she said softly, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "But I'm here. Not just physically... but really here. With you."
Irene's vulnerability hit me harder than I expected. There was a raw honesty in her voice, a quiet strength beneath it. She wasn't hiding anymore. She was no longer the distant, guarded woman I had met.
This was Irene, unfiltered and real. The woman who had been through so much, yet still found the courage to be present.
"I know," I said, my voice steady, giving her the reassurance she needed. "And you don't have to go through it alone. I'm not going anywhere, Irene. Not now. Not ever."
She wasn't alone anymore, and neither was I.
The silence that followed felt different. It wasn't just quiet; it was... comfortable. The space between us felt smaller, the air warmer. Irene's hand shifted on the arm of her chair, her fingers hovering as if she were fighting the urge to reach out. I noticed it, the subtle movement, the gesture that spoke volumes.
Without thinking, I reached out and took her hand, my fingers brushing hers gently. It was a simple touch, but it felt like more. She didn't pull away. Instead, her fingers curled around mine, her grip gentle but firm, as if she'd been waiting for that moment too.
We didn't need words then.
We were two people, sitting together, letting the silence speak for us.
Two people who had found solace in each other.
—
Time passed, and with it, things between Irene and me started to shift. After that night, we grew closer, though we still hadn't taken that next step. It felt right, we were more comfortable with each other, understanding without needing to say much.
Irene had settled into life at my place. She insisted on doing little things, like making breakfast or sitting with me when I was working. It wasn't about what she did; it was about the time we spent together, the easy way we were starting to fit into each other's lives.
Erza, too, had become closer to Irene. Their bond had formed naturally, no rush, just small moments. Erza would visit often, and the two of them would train or talk. It was like watching a new friendship bloom. There was a softness in Erza's eyes now when she looked at Irene, and I could tell the walls between them had come down.
As for Irene's magic, with my help, she regained the immense magical power she had lost.
Watching her train, I could see the familiar strength returning, with each passing day, she was stronger than before, back to her original power, and even surpassing it in some ways.
—
X782
A year passed, and with them came change—not just for the guild, but for the world itself. Fairy Tail had grown stronger, its members maturing and evolving, each carving their own path.
Mystogan remained a mystery to most of the guild. He rarely showed his face, preferring to stay out of sight, slipping in and out of the guildhall like a shadow. But I knew where he truly came from—Edolas. And I remembered the day he first appeared.
Speaking of him I remembered the first time he appeared at the guild.
Flashback
2 years ago, he'd stepped into the guild for the first time. A cloaked figure. He cast a powerful sleep spell the moment he entered, dropping nearly every guild member where they stood. Only a handful of us remained standing—Makarov, myself, and a very confused-looking Jellal, who had just walked in behind me.
Laxus, Gildarts, and Ur were all away on a mission that day. The rest of the S-Class mages weren't able to resist Mystogan's spell. Even Erza had slumped forward, caught mid-step, her armor clattering softly to the floor.
At the entrance, the cloaked figure stepped forward, pulling down his hood. The resemblance was instant and uncanny.
Sharp blue eyes. That same serious expression. That same face.
Makarov took a slow breath, his brows drawing together. "Jellal…?"
Jellal's eyes narrowed. "No. That's not me."
The man at the door gave a curt nod. "Correct. My name is Mystogan. I come from a world called Edolas."
The mention of Edolas made Makarov's eyes widen—just a flicker of recognition, but it was there. "Edolas… like Porlyusica?"
Mystogan bowed slightly, his staff lowered. "I meant no harm. I cast the spell only to avoid panic. I've learned that my appearance causes… confusion."
Jellal stepped forward now, tension in his shoulders. "You copied my face?"
Mystogan looked at him. "No. I was born with it. In my world, I'm you. Or rather… the Edolas version of you."
Jellal didn't say anything at first, his gaze unreadable. Then, surprisingly, he relaxed slightly and muttered, "That's going to make for some awkward conversations."
"Tell me about it," I added under my breath.
Makarov sighed, rubbing his temples as he surveyed the sleeping guild. "You've got a funny way of introducing yourself."
Mystogan gave a small, respectful smile. "This was the gentlest way I could think of."
"You came here to join, didn't you?" Makarov asked.
"Yes," Mystogan answered plainly. "I've been watching this guild for some time."
Makarov looked at him for a long moment, then finally exhaled. He motioned to the snoring mages scattered across the floor, "You better be ready to explain things. You've got a face that's going to raise a lot of questions."
Mystogan gave a subtle shake of his head. "If possible… I'd prefer not to be introduced. I don't want attention. I'll take missions quietly, come and go as needed. Let them know I'm a member, but not someone to bother."
Makarov raised an eyebrow.
"I want to avoid unnecessary trouble, yes," Mystogan continue calmly.
I couldn't help but chuckle. "Guess Fairy Tail's got room for two brooding, blue-haired guys now."
Jellal shot me a flat look. "Really?"
"Hey," I shrugged, "just calling it like I see it."
Mystogan let the corner of his mouth twitch. But he gave a respectful bow again. "Thank you. I'll do my part from the shadows."
Makarov sighed but nodded. "Alright. Just don't vanish without reporting in. We may be loud and rowdy, but we still keep track of our own."
And with that, Mystogan officially became part of Fairy Tail—not with cheers or a welcome party, but with quiet acceptance. Just the way he preferred.
End Flashback
Now, years later, I found Mystogan sitting at the edge of the cliffs behind the guild, watching the clouds drift lazily over Magnolia.
I walked up and dropped onto the grass beside him with a sigh. "Still keeping an eye on the sky?"
He didn't turn to look at me, but his voice was calm, steady as always. "The Anima stirs, here and there. If I'm not careful… entire chunks of this world could vanish."
I studied his expression—stoic, unreadable. "You've been handling it alone this whole time."
"I have to," he said. "If even one anomaly gets through… people die. Or worse, entire cities disappear. I won't let that happen."
I leaned back on my elbows, looking at the horizon. "You really have a troublesome father don't you."
The truth was… I could help him. I had the tech. Right now, sitting in my Celestial Inventory was a generator capable of producing infinite mana—pure, stable energy that could power all of Edolas for eternity. No more Anima. No more siphoning magic from Earth Land. No more danger.
But it wasn't time. Faust was still in power over there—arrogant, paranoid, obsessed with control. If I handed them infinite energy now, they'd use it to build weapons, fuel oppression, maybe even wage war across dimensions. That kind of power in the wrong hands? It'd burn their world to ash before it ever brought peace.
Edolas needs to change first. The people need to change. I'm letting canon play out for a reason. Mystogan will lead them when the time comes. He'll show them a better path—and when that moment arrives, I'll be ready. But not before.
Mystogan didn't respond to the jab about his father—not verbally, anyway. But I saw the flicker in his eyes, just for a second. The quiet bitterness. The weight of legacy that no one ever asks for.
"I can't change him," he said quietly. "But I can make sure his mistakes don't hurt anyone else."
A breeze moved through the trees behind us, carrying the sounds of laughter from the guild hall below—voices that didn't know how close they'd come to danger. And maybe that was for the best.
"Go ahead," I said after a moment. "Keep playing the ghost. Keep watching from the shadows. When the time comes, when they need you—step into the light. And don't look back."
He looked down at me, something like a real smile tugging at the edge of his lips. "I will."
Then, without another word, Mystogan turned and walked away, his cloak fluttering behind him like a fading memory. He disappeared over the ridge, swallowed by trees and magic and secrets.
I stayed there a little longer, lying in the grass and watching the sky stretch endlessly above me.
One day, that world would be ready.
And when it was, we'd be there—standing beside him.
=====
Author's Note:
Damn… 100 chapters.
I honestly didn't think I'd make it this far when I started. It was just a random whim at the time. But here we are. I seriously appreciate all the support you've given me along the way. Whether you've been here since chapter 1 or just hopped on, thank you. You're the reason this kept going.
======
Get early access to 20+ chapters of my fanfics by supporting me on Patreon! [email protected]/ShuuraiFF