The morning light pierced through the gaps in the thin curtains of the Fairy Tail boys' dormitory. A beam fell directly across Ren's face, making him wince slightly before he finally opened his eyes.
"...Morning..."
His voice was soft, different from usual. There was no heaviness in his limbs, no stabbing pain in his muscles. Instead, he felt light, refreshed. Ren moved his hands slowly, clenching and unclenching them several times. The sensation of magic flowed smoothly through his veins.
"...Fully recovered, then."
He sat up on the bed, stretching his body. His joints let out small pops—not from pain, but from the relief of being able to move freely again. His thoughts drifted back to the fight a few days ago. The impact. The collision. The staggering gap in power.
Ren offered a thin smile. "...Still a long way to go."
He rose from the bed, dressing with quick, efficient movements. There was no hesitation in his stride, no morning lethargy. Today, he wanted to move.
The Familiar Chaos
Ren walked through the streets of Magnolia with a relaxed gait, as if carrying no weight on his shoulders. Both hands were tucked into his pockets, his shoulders loose, but his gaze was far from careless. His eyes moved rhythmically, sweeping over every street corner—from busy street vendors to children running and laughing, to wizards passing by with their distinct auras.
As usual, Ren wasn't just "strolling." He was observing. Analyzing. A habit ingrained since childhood. Every small detail was noted—the rhythm of people's steps, shifts in facial expressions, even the direction of the wind carrying the city's scents.
But this time, there was a specific purpose. His aimless steps became certain. Without realizing it, he stood before the massive, familiar building: the Fairy Tail guild.
He stopped for a moment, his gaze tracing the structure from the ground to its peak. The sturdy walls marked by old battles, the large windows reflecting the sun, and the guild symbol displayed with pride. From outside, the noise was already clear—shouts and laughter mixed with the sound of things breaking.
"Noisy as ever..."
Ren smirked. Instead of being annoyed, the chaos felt like... home. He stepped forward and gripped the handle of the large door.
Creak.
The doors swung open, and a wave of sound hit him like a storm. Inside, the usual madness greeted him. Some members were arguing atop tables; others were sparring for no apparent reason. A chair flew through the air before shattering against a wall. Yet, beneath the rowdiness, there was warmth.
"Yo, morning," Ren said casually as he entered.
"RENNN!!" "Oi! Kid!" "Back from the grave already?!"
Ren raised a lazy hand. "Still alive."
He walked deeper into the hall, his eyes scanning the room. He stopped. Someone was missing. He continued toward the bar where Master Makarov sat, watching the guild with a mixture of exasperation and affection.
"Master," Ren called out.
Makarov glanced over. "Oh, Ren. Recovered?" "Yeah. Where's Laxus?"
Makarov took a sip of his drink. "Mission." Ren nodded slowly. "...Fast as always." He paused, a small smile forming. "In that case... me too."
The Call of the North
Makarov raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
Ren didn't elaborate. He turned and headed straight for the request board. It was plastered with papers ranging from simple errands to high-stakes dangers. Ren's eyes darted across the requests.
"Delivery of goods..."
"Small monster subjugation..."
"Escort..."
He shook his head. "...Too ordinary."
His hand moved, flipping through the newer sheets until he stopped at one. His eyes narrowed. He read it slowly.
"Request for assistance... a nobleman has lost contact... in Northern Fiore."
Ren's brow arched. "...The North." He searched his memory for the location. It was a place of extreme cold and harsh conditions. Perfect. It was exactly what he needed to refine his magic control and push Bungee Gum to its limits. He wanted to test his boundaries.
SRRAAK!!
He ripped the paper from the board. Some members looked over. "Oi, what mission did Ren take?" "Looks serious..."
Ren walked back to Makarov and presented the sheet. Makarov read it, his brow furrowing slightly. "The North, eh..." He looked at Ren deeply, evaluating the boy's strength and remembering the grit he showed against Gildarts. "...You want to go alone?"
Ren nodded. "Yeah." "Why?" Ren shrugged. "...Training."
Simple, but honest. Makarov stared at him for a few more seconds before letting out a small sigh. "...Alright. Be careful."
Ren smirked. "I'll try."
Departure
A few moments later, Ren stood in the center of the guild with a small pack over his shoulder. "Heading out," he announced.
"DON'T DIE!" "Bring back souvenirs!"
Ren raised a hand in a casual farewell. Then he paused. He spotted Cana standing nearby, clutching a few cards. "...You're leaving?" she asked softly. "Yeah. A mission."
Cana looked down for a moment. "...It's dangerous." Ren offered a thin smile. "That's what makes it a challenge." Cana gripped her cards a bit tighter. "...Be careful."
Ren watched her for a beat. "...Yeah."
Moments later, Ren was walking away from the guild. His steps were steady as the magic train station came into view. Wisps of steam rose into the air, and the hum of the magic engine filled the ears. Ren boarded the train, taking a seat by the window. As the train lurched forward, he watched Magnolia fade into the distance.
"The North, huh..."
He closed his eyes, regulating his breath. His mind began to work—strategies, possibilities, training. And the target he intended to surpass.
"...Gildarts."
The train accelerated, racing toward the cold frontiers and new trials. Without knowing it, this journey would be the beginning of something much greater than a mere mission.