Ren had seen many strange things since arriving in the world of Fairy Tail—flying cats, people turning into giants, sentient cards—but nothing felt quite as heavy, quite as ancient, as the door in front of him now.
It stood deep beneath the guildhall, past twisting stone staircases and sealed-off chambers most guild members didn't even know existed. Erza stood beside him, a torch in hand. The flame flickered wildly, disturbed not by wind—but by magic. Dense, coiled magic that oozed from the cracks in the doorframe.
"You sure about this?" Erza asked, her voice low and steady.
Ren nodded. "Makarov said I'd find answers here."
She hesitated, then unhooked the chain barring the entry. "Then we go in together."
With a push, the massive iron door creaked open, revealing a vast chamber lined with dusty bookshelves that stretched endlessly upward, disappearing into shadow.
---
The Library of Forbidden Magic wasn't part of Fairy Tail's normal archives. It predated the guild itself—an ancient relic, protected by generations of Guild Masters. Only a handful of mages had ever entered.
The moment Ren stepped inside, he felt it. The void in his chest—usually distant and dormant—shuddered. Like it was waking up.
"Do you feel that?" he asked.
Erza nodded grimly. "The magic here is... wrong. Like it doesn't want to be remembered."
They moved through the stacks in silence. Most of the tomes were locked behind enchanted chains. Some whispered when they passed. One even bled.
Ren's fingers stopped on a black-bound book with no title. As he reached for it, Erza grabbed his wrist.
"Not that one," she warned. "It's cursed."
He moved on.
At the far back of the room, a pedestal sat beneath a shaft of pale blue light. Upon it rested a single book — bound in cracked silver leather, its pages edged in void-dark ink.
The title burned across the cover:
"Chronicles of the Anti-Element: The Forgotten Slayer"
---
Ren opened the book carefully, and the moment he did, the room shifted. Shadows along the walls twitched. The air grew colder.
Words swam across the page in an ancient dialect, but his magic responded. He could read it.
> There was once a Dragon who consumed darkness, who thrived not on flame or lightning, but on the destruction of all things magical. His name has been lost to time, erased by pact and fear alike. But from him came a single child — not of fire, not of scale — but of absence.
Ren's hands trembled. The story wasn't about him. It couldn't be.
But it felt like it was.
> The Anti-Dragon Slayer was not taught. He was infused. His power did not complement nature — it devoured it. Even the sky recoiled from him.
Erza leaned over his shoulder, reading as he turned the page.
> He could not be trained in traditional magic. Any spell he cast risked unraveling the threads of reality around him. So, he walked alone — until the day he vanished.
Ren snapped the book shut.
The void inside him churned. Not angrily—but hungrily.
---
"That Dragon," Ren muttered. "The one they describe. He didn't teach the Slayer. He created him."
Erza crossed her arms. "This sounds less like a legend and more like a suppressed truth."
Ren's mind spun. "Anti-Dragon Slayer magic didn't evolve like the others. It wasn't meant for balance. It was born from a Dragon that fed on magic itself."
"That means you weren't just given dangerous magic," Erza said slowly. "You might have been recreated from it."
Ren stared into the distance. "Am I even human anymore?"
"You're part of Fairy Tail," she said firmly. "That's enough for me."
---
A sudden sound broke the silence — the iron door behind them slammed shut.
The torches on the walls extinguished.
The room plunged into utter black.
Then the whispers came.
> Another vessel... He opens the wound again... Let us see if he is worthy...
Ren's eyes adjusted quickly. The void within him gave him unnatural sight. Spectral figures emerged from the shelves—faint silhouettes of cloaked mages long dead.
"Spirits," Erza growled, her armor already manifesting. "Guardians of the library."
One stepped forward, half its face melted by time. It pointed at Ren.
> Prove you are not our undoing.
The shelves trembled.
Books flew open, casting spells into the air.
Ren gritted his teeth and threw up a Void Barrier, absorbing the wild hexes mid-flight.
Erza moved beside him, her sword cleaving through ghostly limbs and cursed chains that lashed out from nowhere.
"I didn't come here to fight!" Ren shouted.
> Then show us restraint! the spirits howled.
A massive spectral hand crashed down toward them.
Ren reacted instantly — not with offense — but by releasing Void Absorption.
The magic around him vanished like mist in wind.
The spirits hissed — not in pain, but approval.
> He bears the hunger... yet he resists it.
One stepped forward, placing a hand on Ren's forehead.
He didn't flinch.
In that instant, he saw —
A dark cavern. A dragon made of shadows and smoke. A boy kneeling. Screaming. The Dragon's voice:
"You are my silence made flesh."
Ren staggered.
And the spirits were gone.
The torches re-lit.
The door reopened.
---
Later, as they emerged from the chamber into sunlight, Erza touched Ren's arm gently.
"You were chosen, yes. But you're still choosing who to be."
Ren said nothing, eyes distant.
But in his hand, he still held the silver book.
And it was glowing faintly with magic only he could feel.