The billowing dust still hung heavy in the air of the guild's backyard, like a grey mist reluctant to leave. The fading afternoon sunlight filtered through the gaps in the overcast clouds, painting the floating ethernano particles with a shimmering purple-gold hue. The wind, which had been swirling wildly just moments ago, began to subside, but the scent of scorched earth and the pungent sting of ozone still clung to the noses of everyone standing around the makeshift arena.
The ground was cracked like small war scars, the grass at the edges parched and blackened. The remnants of Ren's Bungee Gum, which had been splayed everywhere, were now slowly evaporating into tiny shards of light—like falling stars arriving before the true darkness.
Ren stood in the center of the chaos, his breath heavy yet his chest rising and falling with a steady rhythm. His small, eight-year-old body was covered in dust and minor scratches, his clothes torn in several places, but his pitch-black eyes—marked by the small mole beneath his left eye—remained sharp and focused.
In front of him, Laxus Dreyar was down on one knee. His blonde hair was disheveled by the previous blast, but the lightning aura around his body grew even wilder. Small sparks crackled between his fingers, and in his right palm, a darker energy began to coalesce. It was no longer ordinary lightning. It was something primal, something deeper—something that made the surrounding air vibrate like the breath of a waking dragon.
Laxus raised his hand slowly. His lips curled into a hungry, wolfish grin. "Lightning Dragon's—"
"STOP!"
Makarov's voice thundered, shattering the sky. The Guild Master's small frame leaped from the edge of the arena with unexpected speed, his orange cloak fluttering like a small flame. In an instant, he stood between the two boys. His right hand was raised high, and the massive magic aura he usually reserved for leveling mountains was pressed down just enough to crack the ground beneath his feet and extinguish Laxus's lightning like a candle in a gale.
The entire field fell silent for a moment. Only the sound of the wind remained.
Then, a roar of disappointment erupted from the crowd.
"Eh?! Why stop it now, Master?!" Macao Conbolt shouted, holding up a beer mug that was sloshing over. His face was flushed from a mix of alcohol and the sudden cutoff of adrenaline.
"This was just getting good! That dragon lightning! I've never seen Laxus use that before!" Wakaba Mine puffed out a thick cloud of smoke from his pipe in protest.
"Yeah! The kid Ren showed off his crazy Bungee Gum, and Laxus was about to pull out something even crazier before you stopped it? That's not fair, Master! We have bets on the line here!"
Several younger members joined in the chorus of agreement, their voices a mix of disappointment and protest. "Keep going! Keep going!" one of them yelled, slapping his friend's shoulder. The laughter that had broken out over the bets turned into a dissatisfied murmur echoing across the guild's backyard.
"Keep going...!"
But among the crowd, the more experienced seniors—those who had watched the tides of magic come and go for decades—stood silent with a different kind of smile. Macao, who had been shouting the loudest, narrowed his eyes, his hand holding the glass frozen in mid-air. Wakaba bit down harder on his pipe, the smoke now drifting out slowly. The two shared a look, then stared back at the center of the arena with an expression of mingled awe and pride.
"That kid..." Macao muttered softly, his voice nearly lost in the ongoing protests. "Eight years old, but he moves like he's fought a hundred battles. That Bungee Gum... it looks simple, but the way he utilizes it? That's not a child's magic. That's the magic of a clever killer."
Wakaba nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving Ren. "And Laxus... that brat is finally starting to show his real fangs. Dragon lightning, huh? If let loose, this field wouldn't just be cracked—it would be a giant crater. But... both of them. These two little monsters. I can't wait to see them as adults. Fairy Tail is going to have two S-Class mages that will make this continent tremble."
Wakaba's voice, usually full of jokes, was now serious and filled with a rare hope. Beside him, other senior mages nodded in agreement. They knew. They had seen too many talents come and go. But these two boys... they were different.
Laxus rose slowly from his kneeling position. His face was flushed, not with embarrassment, but with suppressed rage. Small sparks still danced in his hair.
"Grandpa..." his voice was low, sharp as a lightning strike. "Why did you stop it? I wasn't finished. This kid... he's strong. I want to see how much he can take. This isn't just sparring anymore—this is my chance to show—"
Ren, standing opposite him, nodded slowly. Though his body was still trembling slightly from the last exchange, his breathing had returned to normal. However, there was a similar glint in his eyes—a deep dissatisfaction.
"I... I agree with Laxus," Ren said softly, his voice clear despite its youth. "I haven't shown everything yet. And him... he's still hiding something much bigger. If we continued, I might—"
Makarov spun around quickly. His small face, usually full of warmth, was now set like stone. His eyes narrowed sharply, and his magic aura flared again—this time not to stop the fight, but to weigh down the two boys with a pressure that made the air feel heavy.
"Both of you... be quiet!"
The command boomed. The crowd went instantly silent. Even those who had protested the loudest now swallowed hard. Makarov stepped forward, his small finger pointing back and forth between Ren and Laxus.
"You think this is a game?! You think the guild's backyard is big enough for you to play with fire and dragon lightning?! One more full-powered strike from either of you, and the entire guild building would be in ruins! Those stone walls, the tables, the bar, even the roof that has stood for decades—all of it would be rubble! You're both children! Eight and ten years old! But your magic is already like an uncontrollable adult monster!"
He paused, his breath hitching slightly from his genuine anger. But deep within his chest, there was something warm, something that made his eyes shimmer faintly behind the sternness. I'm happy... he thought to himself, a voice meant only for him. These two... their potential is extraordinary. Ren, with his "ordinary" magic that he turned into a lethal strategic weapon. Laxus, with the Dragon Slayer magic he gained from the lacrima Ivan implanted. Both of them... would one day become S-Class. More than that, they would become the new backbone of Fairy Tail.
But Makarov didn't show it. He only shook his head firmly, his voice still stern.
"I am glad you are strong. I am glad you have spirit. But if you don't learn control now, one day that very spirit will be what destroys your own family. Do you understand?!"
Laxus clenched his fists, his teeth gritting together. "Hmph." He looked away but didn't argue further. Ren simply nodded slowly, his eyes lowered in respect, though in his heart, the same turmoil remained—the desire to keep going, to know his own limits.
Makarov let out a long sigh. His anger slowly faded, replaced by a small, tired, but proud smile.
"Now... the party continues! All bets are off. There is no winner tonight, except for Fairy Tail, which has gained two talented brats."
The crowd began to cheer again, though softer and more orderly this time. But the joy remained. Macao approached with a laugh, patting Ren lightly on the shoulder.
"Well, kid, you impressed us. The bet... well, whatever. You won in all our hearts."
Ren gave a thin smile, rubbing his left arm where the new tattoo sat. "Thanks, Macao. But... what about the results? I bet on myself earlier."
Wakaba laughed loudly, his pipe smoke billowing once more. "Haha! This kid! The bet is canceled, but if we're counting points... let's call it a draw. Laxus didn't lose either. You're both monsters!"
Ren laughed softly, but inside, a dark shadow secretly gnawed at him. I... would have lost.
His mind was clear, cold as when he used to count the guards' steps back at the Tower of Heaven. Laxus is still hiding his true strength. That dragon lightning... if he unleashed it fully, my Bungee Gum wouldn't be enough. I still have many tricks, but he... he has such devastating magic. I have to be stronger. Smarter. So that next time... I'm not just surviving.
The party roared back to life. Acoustic guitars strummed again, glasses were raised high, and grilled meat and fresh bread were passed around. Laughter and stories flowed like an endless river. Ren mingled among them, his small body occasionally lifted onto an adult's shoulders, but his mind was still half-stuck in the arena.
Makarov, who had been standing at the edge, approached Ren while the boy was taking a bite of bread. "Ren," he called softly, his voice returning to its usual warmth. "Do you have a place to stay in Magnolia yet?"
Ren stopped chewing. His eyes widened slightly, as if he had just realized something. The long journey from the Kingdom of Sin through dark forests full of sin and mist, then to Minstrel with its rhythms of dance and music in Flerouge, and finally crossing the great bay toward Fiore—all of it had been done with one goal: searching for the light Nana had told him about. He had never thought about "living" somewhere. For him, every night was a bed on a ship, under a tree, or in a cheap inn paid for by the remains of his travel funds.
"I... I don't have one yet, Master," Ren answered honestly, his voice small but firm. "From the Sin Kingdom, I just hopped a merchant ship to Minstrel, then to Hargeon port, then here. I didn't have time to think about a place to stay. The important thing was... getting to Fairy Tail."
Makarov laughed softly, his small hand patting Ren's shoulder gently. "This child. Fine. Starting tonight, you'll stay at the Fairy Tail boys' dormitory. There's a vacant room there—simple, but enough. A bed, a small desk, and a window overlooking the back garden. You won't be alone. There's Laxus, even if he likes his silence, and the other boys. It's your home now."
Ren stared at Makarov, his eyes welling up slightly—not out of sadness, but because of a sudden warmth filling his chest. "A boys'... dormitory?"
"Yes. Come, I'll take you there now. The party will go on for a while, but you need rest after that fight."
They walked through the busy guild corridors, passing the laughter and cheers still echoing from the main hall. The Magnolia night air had begun to turn chilly, and stars were peeking through the previously cloudy sky. Makarov walked ahead with his nimble, small steps, Ren following beside him, occasionally touching his left arm—feeling the fairy bird tattoo that still felt warm.
The Fairy Tail boys' dormitory was located behind the guild hall—a two-story wooden building, old but sturdy, surrounded by a low fence and small cherry blossom trees whose leaves were falling softly in the spring breeze. The front door creaked as it opened, and the scent of old wood and a hint of lacrima candle wax greeted them. A narrow corridor, worn wooden stairs, and on the first floor, Makarov opened the door to Room Number One.
The room was simple. A studio layout that served as a living area, bedroom, and a small kitchenette in the corner. There was a thin mattress on a wooden frame, a navy-blue blanket that was faded but clean, a small desk with one chair, a short wardrobe for clothes, and a large window facing the guild's backyard. On the wall was a small empty shelf, and above it hung a simple lacrima lamp that glowed softly when Makarov touched it. There were no lavish decorations. Just one small vase with a withered wild flower on the desk. But the air inside... was warm. Like it had been waiting.
Ren stepped inside slowly. His feet touched the cold wooden floor, but his chest felt full. He placed his small bag in the corner and touched the mattress with a slightly trembling hand. The smell of wood, the scent of old soap—the smell of a home he hadn't felt since leaving the Tower of Heaven.
This was no longer the ruins of a tower, no longer a cold ship, no longer the streets of Minstrel filled with foreign music. Here... there was laughter in the distance, a guild that called his name, and a tattoo on his arm that bound him as family.
"This is... my home," Ren whispered, his voice barely audible. A small tear pooled in the corner of his eye, but he quickly wiped it away. His smile widened—the optimistic smile that always persisted, despite a past full of darkness.
Makarov stood at the threshold, grinning widely. "Get some rest, kid. Tomorrow morning, we start your real adventure in Fairy Tail. And remember—if anything gets broken, it's on you!"
Ren laughed softly, nodding. "Thank you, Master. I... I won't break anything."
Makarov closed the door gently, his footsteps receding down the corridor. Ren sat on the edge of the bed, gazing at the night sky through the window. The stars twinkled, just like the small lights he once saw at the Great Dancing Lake of Minstrel. In the distance, the sounds of the party were still faintly audible—Macao's laughter, Wakaba's smoke, and perhaps the voice of a still-grumpy Laxus in some corner.
He lay back slowly, his left hand resting on his chest, feeling the warm pulse of the Fairy Tail tattoo. Home, he thought again. Finally... I'm home.
That night, for the first time in years, Ren Chicle slept without nightmares. He dreamed only of lightning and rubber dancing together under the Magnolia sky, waiting for a colorful tomorrow.