"Zeref!?"
Makarov's voice shot up so sharply it sliced through the hall, drawing even Cana's curious glance from across the guild.
He fixed a stare on Shane. "And what business could you possibly have with Zeref?"
Shane put on his most dopey, harmless smile, as if he'd completely missed the warning in that tone.
"I was reading those travel journals in the library," he said. "They say the dark mage Zeref created a lot of things like, uh… that 'emotion demon' I ran into in Shirotsume. So I was wondering—"
"So?" Makarov's eyes narrowed.
"So I wanted to ask if you knew of any of his other demons or where they might be. Even just rumors—"
"I don't. And even if I did, I wouldn't tell you!" Makarov cut him off like a knife.
Right now he was the very picture of a parent exasperated to death.
He mentally tallied the two big things he'd drilled into the kid:
One, don't go tangling with those sewer-dwelling dark guilds.
Two, never, ever get involved with anything connected to Zeref.
And how long had he behaved himself? Barely at all. First he toppled a dark guild, and now he wanted to dive headfirst into the Zeref pit?
Makarov could feel his blood pressure rising. His earlier belief that Shane was a "nice, easy kid" felt painfully naïve.
"Please, Master! Just a little hint!" Shane clasped his hands, earnest.
He wasn't faking it—he really was desperate.
The reason he clung so hard to Zeref's trail was simple: both of the Book's earlier trials had revolved around him.
It was hard not to suspect that only events tightly tied to Zeref could trigger new trials.
Right now he had one unused permission banked. Once he finished the "Initiation" trial, he'd have two.
He was dying to trigger another trial, unlock more filter slots, and pull in stronger spirits.
But Makarov was resolute. No matter how much Shane wheedled, swore he was "just curious" and wouldn't take risks, the old man's face stayed like stone.
Shane was climbing the walls. His gaze drifted by chance toward the door Laxus had left through, and something clicked.
"Master… is your relationship with Laxus… not so great?" he asked.
"Hm?" Makarov gave him a long, world-weary look. "And what if it isn't?"
Everyone in the guild knew about Laxus's rebellious streak.
"Well, what if I said I have a way to help fix things between you two?" Shane puffed his chest out, trying to look confident.
"You?" Makarov snorted. "And what could you possibly do?"
He didn't have the faintest plan, but there was no backing down now. He pushed through. "You just saw us playing. Laxus and I get along okay, right?"
"So here's the deal: I help mend things between you and your grandson, and you tell me what you know about Zeref. Fair trade, right?"
"Is that so…" Makarov tapped his mug, pretending to ponder. "If you really could…"
Seeing an opening, Shane lit up and leaned in. "Leave it to me! Totally fine! I'll take care of it!"
"But!" Makarov's tone flipped in an instant, whatever softness had been there replaced by pure exasperation. "No."
Before Shane could react, the old man hopped up and rapped him three times on the forehead.
"Idiot! What kind of parent just lets a kid march off to die?"
Clutching his head, Shane felt wronged. We were talking, how did this turn into a beating?
But he was the one asking favors; he could only grit his teeth and keep trying. "Master, you know how strong I am. I'm not going to die. I just want to—"
"No means no." Makarov cut him off again, firm as bedrock.
Even so, Shane wouldn't let it go. After enough pestering, the old man finally sighed and relented a fraction.
"Fine. If you pass the guild's S-Class exam, I'll make an exception and tell you everything I know about Zeref."
"Really?!" Shane's eyes shone.
He had some confidence. Aside from that monster Gildarts, he felt he could at least stand against anyone else in the guild.
"Why would I lie?" Makarov rolled his eyes, refilling his drink and sipping lazily.
"So when does the exam start?" Shane was already itching to go.
"You don't qualify," Makarov replied flatly.
"…Why?" It felt like getting doused with ice water.
The old man's lips curled in a sly grin. "Take a look at how many jobs you've done since you joined. You haven't even cleared the minimum requirement. And you want to take the S-Class exam?"
He clapped Shane's shoulder with a "you're still green" kind of sympathy. "Cramming at the last minute won't help you. Wait till next year."
Scammed.
Shane stared at the old fox who'd been saying "family" and "children" a minute ago.
He'd just been handed a beautiful IOU.
But a deal was a deal. If he backed out now, he'd only look unreasonable. All he could do was swallow his frustration under Makarov's smug "age beats youth" gaze and retreat in wounded silence.
Back home, he stalked straight into the kitchen and turned rage into cuisine. Knives clacked and pots clanged until he'd produced six dishes and a soup, filling their little table edge to edge.
Drawn by the smell, Erza wandered in and couldn't hide a grin at the rare sight of him getting chewed out.
Shane shoveled rice into his mouth, brooding.
Even he had to admit he couldn't keep coasting like this. If he wanted that exam, he needed to start taking jobs—build up his record and reputation.
The moment he truly made that decision—
Buzz.
The Book stirred in his mind. Fiery script flowed across its pages.
[Trial: Pillar]
[To stand as a pillar, you must be acknowledged. Earn the right to take the S-Class mage exam, and pass it.]
"Huh. A trial?" Shane's eyes flew wide. He hadn't expected a new one to drop out of nowhere.
There'd been no sign, no build-up—and the instant he made up his mind, the page responded.
The timing was so on-the-nose he had no idea what the trigger actually was.
Was it because the S-Class exam was tied to Zeref somehow? Or were all the trials fundamentally random, keyed only to the Book-bearer's strongest desires?
Or… both?
He didn't know. But either way, if he wanted to be S-Class, he really couldn't afford to keep slacking.
Time to take his "mage" job seriously.
So, over the next week…
Shane did absolutely nothing.
He maintained his exact old routine, holed up at home and shuttling back and forth between the forge and the guild library.
Two points, one line.
Until one night, after washing up early, he lay down and closed his eyes.
Silence settled. His consciousness slipped away.
And then that familiar, searing sea of fire—
rose up to greet him, right on cue.
~~~
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