"So, what do I owe this visit to? I doubt even you like spending time with me just… because," Aelius said. His voice carried a faint edge, not directed at her, but at himselflike he was already irritated by how difficult he made things for anyone who tried to care.
Levy tilted her head, unfazed. "What makes you think that? I think you're rather delightful to be around."
Aelius stared at her from across the room, expression flat, unblinking. The silence stretched until Levy finally cracked, breaking into a small laugh.
"Okay, okay, maybe 'delightful' was pushing it," she admitted, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "But I guess I came to see if you're alright. It's just… strange, you know? You taking a quest, then bringing back a person. It's not really something you do." Her tone softened toward the end, the teasing fading into something gentler.
Aelius leaned back in the chair he'd claimed, letting out a quiet, tired sigh. "No offense, Levy, but I haven't exactly let any of you see enough of me to decide what is or isn't like me." His gaze drifted toward the window. "Some part of me is normal enough, I suppose. I felt like taking a quest, so I did. Nothing more to it."
He turned back to her, his tone sharpening slightly. "I don't need a babysitter or a mother. I might be young by your standards, but I'm still an adult and a capable one at that."
Levy frowned slightly, not out of offense, but because she'd heard that tone before, the one he used when he started building walls, one careful brick at a time. She sat a bit straighter in her chair, crossing one leg over the other, her warmth dimmed but not gone. "I never said you needed one, Aelius. I just"
"Wanted to make sure I wasn't spiraling," he finished for her, his voice calm, but tired. "That I wasn't slipping into something dangerous. That I wasn't thinking if leaving."
Levy hesitated, caught off guard by the accuracy of it. "That's… not exactly how I'd put it," she said, but the look he gave her said he knew better.
"Levy, you don't have to dance around it. I know what people think when they hear my name, when they see me walk in. They smile, they talk, they act like it's fine but they all still flinch inside. You just hide it better than most."
"That's not fair," Levy said, her tone soft but steady. "You make it sound like you're impossible to care about."
"Maybe I am," he said simply, leaning back in his chair. "Doesn't make it untrue."
For a moment, the silence returned, not sharp or heavyjust still. The fire cracked in the hearth, faint light shifting across the floorboards. Levy studied him, the way he stared into nothing like he was searching for a thought that kept slipping just out of reach.
"You ever think," she began slowly, "that maybe you make it hard on purpose? That maybe you push people away so you don't have to deal with what happens if they stay?"
Aelius's gaze flicked to her, the faintest spark of something in his eyesannoyance, or maybe realization. He didn't answer immediately. "You think I haven't considered that?" he asked finally, voice quiet. "Every time I let someone close, I start wondering how long it'll take before I ruin it. It's easier to cut it short."
Levy tilted her head slightly, her expression softening. "That's a lonely way to live."
"It's a simple one."
"That's not the same thing."
He didn't respond to that. Instead, he looked out the window again, the lake barely visible now under the dim moonlight. The reflection shimmered faintly across the glass, broken by ripples that came and went. He exhaled, slow and deliberate. "You said you came to check if I was alright," he said after a long pause. "You can tell them I am. Whatever you thought you'd find here, you won't."
Levy rose from her chair, stepping closer until she was standing beside him. "I didn't come because anyone told me to," she said quietly. "I came because I wanted to."
Aelius looked up at her, his expression unreadable for a long moment. "You shouldn't," he said finally. "You'll regret it. You've regretted it before."
Levy smiled faintly. "Maybe. But I'll take that chance."
He didn't argue. He just looked at her a little longer before turning back toward the window, the faint reflection of firelight flickering across his face.
Outside, the night had settled completely. The lake was still, the world quiet. Levy lingered beside him for a moment before sitting back down, and neither of them spoke again.
For once, the silence between them didn't feel like distance. It was simple, and maybe, in its own strange way, enough.
"...You're an enigma," Aelius said after a long pause. His eyes stayed on her, unreadable, but his voice carried something rough beneath it. "We've done this dance a dozen times already. Yet for some reason, you still entertain the idea of me being a normal person. Someone you can be around without discourse."
His tone wasn't harsh, but it wasn't calm either. It sat somewhere in between like he was genuinely confused by her, and maybe a little irritated that he didn't know why. There was no anger, only a quiet sort of tension that came from someone too used to pushing people away to understand why she kept coming back.
After a beat, he exhaled through his nose, shoulders loosening slightly. "Though if I'm being honest," he muttered, "I'm tired of having the same conversation every time we talk. I suppose that's one of the many parts of me I should work on... eventually. If repeating what I am hasn't scared you off already, it never will."
Levy smiled faintly, the kind of smile that always seemed to carry a little too much understanding for his comfort. She didn't push, didn't prod, just let the moment settle. The last light of the sun stretched through the window, brushing her hair gold, and for a second, Aelius thought she looked more at peace than anyone in this cursed guild had the right to be.
"You know," she began softly, "we could talk. Like normal people for once. Break this little 'dance' of ours, if you're willing to share. Nothing major, obviously, but… I don't really know you. Not since you left. And you left during the years when everyone changes the most." She paused, her tone light but her eyes steady. "I'll start. What's your favorite color?"
Aelius blinked. Once. Twice. The question hung there, almost absurd in its simplicity, but she was serious. He looked at her, really looked at her, trying to see if this was some trick or test of patience. It wasn't.
He leaned back slightly, his expression unreadable but his eyes… unsettled. "My favorite color?" he repeated, like the words themselves were foreign.
Levy nodded, smiling again, encouraging.
"...Truly an enigma," he murmured, more to himself than to her. "I don't know how to answer that." He hesitated, the confusion almost visible on his unmasked face. "I've never… really thought about it."
Levy tilted her head, a soft giggle breaking the quiet. "You're kidding, right? You've gone years without ever thinking about it?"
He shook his head slowly, looking toward the window, the lake beyond it glinting in the fading light. "No. I suppose when you spend most of your life counting scars and mistakes, things like color seem… irrelevant."
There was no bitterness in his tone, just an odd detachment, like he was trying to piece together what kind of person even had a favorite color. For someone who had seen so much destruction, the concept of something simple and harmless was almost alien.
Levy didn't laugh this time. Her smile softened instead, quiet understanding behind it. "Then maybe," she said, "you should start thinking about it."
Aelius glanced back at her, unsure if she was joking, but she wasn't. She meant it. There was no teasing in her tone, no hidden meaning behind the question. Just a simple truth she wanted to share, something real and unburdened. He didn't answer right away, only turned back to the lake, eyes tracing the fading ripples of sunlight that shimmered like molten glass on the water's surface.
"Blue, I suppose," he said after a long silence. "Like water. Or the sky."
The words came out quieter than he expected, almost uncertain, as if he wasn't sure they belonged to him. For a heartbeat, Levy didn't speak, just smiled in that soft, unassuming way that somehow felt like warmth.
Part of him wanted to add that he knew his least favorite colors. He wanted to say he despised green any shade of it. The color of his hair, the eyes that stared back at him when he looked in the mirror. And red… he hated red even more. The color of blood, wet and thick, coating his hands, dripping from wounds that would always heal, from bodies that never got back up. He could still see it even now, in the reflection of the lake when the sun hit it just right.
But something stopped him. Maybe logic. Maybe that quiet sense that some truths didn't belong in the kind of moment Levy was trying to build. The words had no place here, not with the simplicity of her question, not when her eyes held that rare kind of lightgenuine, unguarded joy.
So he said nothing more. He let blue be enough.
Levy lit up like someone who'd just won a small war. "See! You can share like a normal person, and even have a normal favorite color. You aren't as estranged as you pretend to be."
"Straws, Levy. Very short ones," Aelius shot back, narrowing his eyes but failing to hide the edge of a smile.
"Bah, close enough." She hopped off the chair with unnecessary cheer and punched a single fist into her palm like she'd just landed a perfect punch. "Let me have this. I got you to answer a normal question with a normal answer. I'm pretty sure I could go fight Master right now and win."
"Even shorter," Aelius said, rolling his shoulders, "but I'll spare your feelings. If only to spare myself the headache."
She stuck her tongue out at him and then sank back into a chair opposite his, still grinning. For a few minutes, neither of them spoke. The house settled around them; the only sounds were the low hum of the wards and the lake whispering against the beams. It was ordinary in the way ordinary should be, small, warm, annoyingly human.
For a while, neither of them spoke. The house seemed to breathe with themtimber creaking, wards humming low and steady, the faint pulse of magic keeping the world outside at bay. Beyond the window, the lake whispered against the beams, soft and rhythmic. It was one of those moments that felt fragile and whole, a rare kind of stillness that didn't need words. Just the sound of water and the quiet between them.
Then, in an instant, that quiet was shattered.
The night outside flared white-blue, swallowing the reflection of the lake and washing the small room in harsh, searing light. Aelius didn't move at first; he only looked up, eyes narrowing as the air began to hum like a living thing. Shadows bent and twisted across the walls, warped by the pulse of raw magic that rolled through the air. Above the lake, the sky rippled, folding inward on itself until it tore open. The clouds split apart, and from the wound gray and black mingled, spiraling in a storm that seemed to drag the stars themselves out of orbit.
Before Aelius could rise, the first bolt struck. It didn't fall like natural lightning; it moved as if guided, snapping down from the heart of the storm with terrifying precision. The lake exploded in white light, and the shockwave hit the house a heartbeat later, shaking the walls, rattling every beam. Aelius felt the backlash instantly; his wards, dozens of layered sigils and protection webs, caught the brunt of it and howled in protest.
But the storm wasn't breaking through them. It was feeding on them.
Every rune that glowed along the walls dimmed, one by one, their power draining into the storm outside. Aelius staggered, his connection to the wards wrenching painfully as the magic was leeched away. He felt it like blood leaving his veins slow at first, then faster, until the whole structure of his defenses began to collapse.
Levy was already on her feet, panic clear in her voice. "Aelius! What is that?!"
He didn't answer, not immediately. The world beyond the window was pure light now, the lake and the trees erased in the brilliance. The storm spun faster, its center pulsing like a second sun, and every few seconds another surge of lightning fell bolts of condensed magic that hit the air with soundless violence. Each one struck closer.
"Stay inside," Aelius barked, his tone cutting through the hum of magic. "Stay away from the walls."
Levy didn't argue, retreating into the inner hall just as the next bolt hit. The air filled with ozone and static; every hair on their bodies stood on end. Aelius turned both palms upward, power flaring in deep blue arcs as he tried to reinforce the wards. But the sigils flared, sputtered, and went dark. He could feel the lines unraveling, magic bleeding into the storm beyond his control.
It wasn't a normal storm. It wasn't nature, or even magic as he understood it. It watched. It felt like intent. Something testing the edges of reality, probing for a way in.
Then came the sound, like glass fracturing, sharp and deep. The wards cracked. Blue light splintered through the air, then dissolved into sparks. Aelius barely had time to breathe before the whole house began to glow.
It started at the foundation. White light crawled up through the floorboards like veins, racing across every surface. The walls, the ceiling, even the furniture, all of it began to hum with power, glowing brighter and brighter until it was impossible to tell where the edges of the room were. Levy's voice broke through the rising hum, high and frightened.
"Aelius, what's happening?!"
He turned toward her, but she was already blurring, her outline swallowed by the brilliance. He reached out, magic flaring violently from his hand, trying to anchor her to something to anything. But the light surged again, swallowing the room whole.
In that instant, the entire house flashed pure white.
There was no sound. No explosion. No scream. Just light.
The glow consumed everything: the wood, the stone, the air itself, and then folded inward, vanishing into a pinprick of radiance above the lake. For a brief, silent moment, the clearing was empty, the water below perfectly still, reflecting nothing but the torn sky.
Where the house once stood, there was nothing. No ashes, no ruin, no trace of Levy, only Aelius, all of Magnolia was now rock, the grass, the birds, the people all sucked into the sky, gone just like Levy, just like Aelius's house.