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CHAPTER START---
Walking through the scorching deserts of Bosco, Makarov Dreyar wipes the sweat from his brow while navigating a network of dry caverns.
Wearing his casual clothes and holding a sphere of light in his hand, he ignores the curious and fearful creatures looming in the darkness while walking toward the light in front of him. He coughs a few times before drinking water from his canteen and clipping it back to his belt.
"Damned sand. What's the point of an entire Magic Council if it can't even provide accurate infor—" his words stop as he steps out of the cave, back into the scorching desert that expands for hundreds of miles around him.
Or at least that's what one would expect. But with a thought, he activates Telescopic Lens over his left eye, and on the horizon, merely tens of miles away, he sees massive trees and a lush forest. But it abruptly stops, giving way to the desert in front of him.
At the very edge, where grass meets sand, he sees a gargantuan, spiraling narrow tree, extending for miles, far into the clouds and higher than any tree he'd seen naturally formed by nature.
"I guess they weren't that far off after all," Makarov smiles and activates his flight Magic, soaring into the air and rocketing to the top of the massive tree.
As he gets closer, the spiraling trunk shows its true size, thicker than the city of Magnolia, armored with healthy brown bark that no steel sword could cut. The sight causes Makarov's fond memories of his early life to resurface, training his Magic with his uncles.
'Still a sight to behold, uncle,' he thinks while climbing higher into the sky. Unable to see the end of this forest with his naked eyes, he spots large flowing rivers winding through the trees below, all so new that animals have yet to move in.
Arriving at the top of the tree, he soars above the large flower bud at the top, which is opened to reveal the simple cottage on a lawn in the middle of it. There is a small garden with a few spices and vegetables, and sitting in a rocking chair is Makarov's target.
He descends and lands in front of the man, who is casually sipping a cup of tea.
"How have you been, Maki?" the man turns to smile at his nephew, standing to greet him properly.
Makarov smiles up at the man, who stands almost seven feet tall and looks like a humanoid tree. Bark-like skin and green leaves for hair, yet his eyes and nose still retain human shape. While the man moves to prepare a second cup for Makarov, he waves his hand and forms another rocking chair beside his own.
It grows from the ground, and Makarov doesn't hesitate to take a seat.
"I've been good. But Things could be better."
"Oh, I would imagine so. After all, you spent so much time tracking me down. Must have been quite the chore." The man hands Makarov the cup of tea before reclaiming his own and relaxing back into his chair.
"Not much of a chore, really. This place was a desert a few days ago, now half of it is an oasis. It only took me half a day to get to you."
"Nature isn't always subtle," Warrod chuckles. "What's happened to bring you out here?"
"Have you not been keeping up with the world at all?"
Warrod sighs. "Too many people, too much talking. All I need is the wind in my hair…leaves. And the birds chirping around me."
"I could have used your support at the Wizard Saints meeting."
Warrod laughs boisterously, which annoys Makarov. "How many Wizard Saints even attend those boring things. Did anyone but you show up?"
"Only the Four Gods of Ishgar, including you, Osian, Alivia, and Ines, didn't show up. Everyone else was there."
Warrod nods. "Three out of ten attended, not bad at all. Who is Ines?"
"He uses Capture Beast Magic. He became a Wizard Saint about fifteen years ago."
"That sounds interesting. But what was the meeting for?"
"The future. We decided to outlaw Charm Magic, Assassination Jobs, and many other things."
"That would cause quite the ruckus for you youngsters. Changing the legal system and economy with a wave of your hand. But the rotten eggs will likely flee to the other continents."
"It's a global change…"
Warrod falls silent for a while, drinking his tea and looking at the clouds below them. "You know I'm no good in a fight, so I hope that's not what you're asking me for. Those bad apples will cause a lot of chaos when the change happens. You need to prepare for that, Maki."
"I'm not asking you to fight. I'd never do that. But as a founding member of Fairy Tail. As my uncle, a Wizard Saint, a God of Ishgar, do you think I made the right choice in voting for this change?"
Warrod looks at his nephew, watching Makarov absentmindedly stare into his teacup and swirl the liquid. "Why do you think you didn't?"
"Many Wizard Guilds and Wizards will adopt the title of Dark Guild or Dark Wizard now. They don't want to rise above their heinous ways, and we're in the way of that. But at the last meeting, Master Jose made a fair point."
"Agreeing with Jose can be dangerous. I still can't believe he got the Wizard Saint title, but I suppose I should have expected as much considering Coral is also a Wizard Saint. That woman…a very rotten potato."
"They are nothing I aspire to be. But they made a fair point. Regardless of whether it was their true reasoning or not, setting aside the rumors about their working with cults and other evils. They said changing these laws would make their guild members targets, and they don't value the people who would be hurt by those laws more than their own guild members.
After all, there are laws regarding who assassination jobs can target. Members of Wizard Guilds and people holding public office are exempt. But now… I fear that in my quest to make a better world for all, I've made the world far more dangerous for my own children. I may have traded their lives and safety for the chance at a brighter future for humanity."
Warrod nods, seeing the conflicting emotions on his nephew's face. "Such impossible decisions are why I never wanted to be Guildmaster. After Mavis was gone, and with your father Yuri's passing, Precht was the only one who could view things logically.
I was always more emotional about such things, so I'd often make the selfish choice. But to ask a parent to choose between the betterment of the world or the safety of their children, such a cruel situation for anyone."
"And I chose the world…" Makarov mutters as a scant few tears fall into his teacup.
"Only if they're not strong enough," Warrod says. "So are your children strong enough, Makarov?"
Makarov looks up at his uncle, seeing the man smiling down on him.
"Pretch became Guildmaster after Mavis, and he formed the structure of Fairy Tail. But it was built upon the exploration of Magic. It had a darkness within, a selfish desire for personal gain and power.
You took that darkness and shaved it away, bringing forth only the light Mavis wanted. Creating a place where children who have nothing could call home, and now those children are to be tested in the fires of a changing world. So, I ask you, are they strong enough? Does their light shine bright enough, as bright as Mavis always did for us?"
Makarov dries his tears and looks out to the horizon, feeling the warmth of his home even from thousands of miles away.
"They will be more than enough," he says, a newfound confidence in his voice.
"This is the hardest part, sitting back and letting the new generation take over. But I think I've grown into the role quite well. But I doubt you'll be the type to retire and rest like Precht and I…wherever that bookworm is."
"I've actually been thinking of retirement quite a bit lately. We have a new member, Oberon."
"Already earned himself a title, heh."
"No, that's just his name, but it does fit. Mavis loves the boy, all but begged me to make him S-Class, and hand over her Magics. He's young, the same age as my grandson. He'll be the Ace, just like I was, just as Gildarts is, and my grandson Laxus will be Guildmaster."
"Laxus? What about that kid, Ivan?"
Makarov grumbles. "I should probably tell you about him, in case he tries anything funny. But hopefully Gildarts is hunting down some answers about where he is as we speak…"
CHAPTER END---
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