"Lumen Histoire. The girl sealed within this crystal is the First Master of Fairy Tail—Mavis Vermillion."
Makarov's voice carried through the silent hall.
"It has another name as well: Fairy Heart. This is a secret 'Great Magic' that surpasses even the Three Great Magics of our guild. Its core mechanism automatically converts natural mana into the user's own energy, creating an endless supply."
He kept his gaze on the crystal, heavy and distant.
"In other words, whoever possesses it gains limitless magic. They can cast spells without ever running dry."
Kael stared at the blonde girl suspended in the lacrima. He already knew what Fairy Heart was—but the cold sweat forming on the back of his neck had nothing to do with the magic itself.
Why is he showing me this now?
A very bad feeling twisted in his gut.
"Ma… Master," Kael said carefully, "why are you showing me this?"
"Because, Kael… you're going to be the next Master of Fairy Tail."
Kael froze. His mind went blank.
"What?!"
"Master, you have to be joking!" Kael blurted, waving both hands as if he could physically push the idea away.
"I—I've only been in the guild for a year. Me? Master? I can't do it. I absolutely, definitely cannot do it!"
He spun on his heel, ready to bolt.
He wasn't acting. He was genuinely panicking. Missions could be a hassle, sure—but he lived for the chase and the payoff. More importantly, his entire growth depended on taking jobs, earning rewards, and drawing new cards. Being Master meant being chained to a desk.
No missions. No draws. No freedom.
No chance.
Smack!
Kael barely made it two steps before a massive hand clamped down on his shoulder. Makarov had enlarged his palm with Giant Magic, pinning Kael in place like an unruly cat.
Kael slumped. Of course.
What is it with me and giants lately? Everyone keeps grabbing me.
"You brat," Makarov growled.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"Master, I'm telling you—I don't want the job!"
Makarov's temper flared.
"And why not? Is being Master of the most famous guild in Fiore beneath you?"
"It's not that!" Kael snapped back, then forced himself to explain.
"Think about it. I'd have to sit in the guild every day. When the idiots in this place break something—which they do constantly—I'm the one who has to face the Council. I'm the one who gets yelled at. I'm the one writing apology letters and sitting through those dull regional meetings. It sounds like a nightmare."
"…"
Makarov went quiet.
Because Kael wasn't exaggerating. He was describing Makarov's life with painful accuracy.
Kael turned around and put on his most tragic expression.
"Master, look at me. I'm nineteen. I'm a young man in my prime. Do you really have the heart to inflict that kind of suffering on me? I just got back from a dangerous S-Class mission, and this is the 'reward' you give me? Do you even have a conscience, old man?"
Makarov's eyes narrowed.
Then his voice softened, just a fraction.
"And do you have the heart to watch me?"
Kael blinked.
"I'm pushing ninety, Kael," Makarov said, and for the first time there was a crack in his bravado.
"I've got one foot in the grave. Do you really want to watch an old man drag himself through this until his last breath?"
Kael hesitated, but forced himself to counter.
"There are other options. What about Gildarts? He's the strongest wizard we have."
"Gildarts is on a 100-Year Quest," Makarov sighed.
"I don't even know if he'll come back alive. And even if he does, you know what he's like. He'd knock over the guild by accident within a week. He can't stay in one place."
"Then Mystogan."
"Mystogan barely speaks to anyone and keeps his face covered. Half the guild doesn't even know what he looks like."
"Erza," Kael pressed.
"Erza has the most prestige. Even I'm a little wary of her when she's angry."
Makarov paused.
"Erza is a fine choice. But she's still young—and she's a woman. Being Master is a burden that consumes your life. She deserves the chance to be happy, maybe marry someday, without being tied to this chair."
Kael's eyebrows shot up.
"I'm the same age as her. Why do I get the short straw?"
Makarov didn't even pretend to feel guilty.
Kael threw up his hands.
"Fine. Then Laxus. He's your grandson."
"That brat is worse," Makarov barked.
"If I handed the guild to Laxus right now, he'd turn it into a dictatorship by next week."
Kael gritted his teeth.
"Then you keep doing it."
Makarov's voice dropped.
"My body is failing."
"Nonsense," Kael shot back reflexively.
"You're in your eighties. That's the prime of your life. You should be out there struggling and fighting for your dreams!"
Whack!
Makarov smacked him on the head.
"Don't you dare throw my own logic at me, you demon," Makarov snapped.
"I'm old, not senile. I've spent the last week thinking about this, and you're the only one who fits."
Kael fell quiet.
He could see it now—the exhaustion, the weight, and the stubborn hope behind the old man's eyes.
Makarov looked at him steadily.
"Do you really hate the idea of leading Fairy Tail that much?"
Kael's expression answered before his mouth could.
Makarov exhaled, long and slow.
"Fine. In that case…"
Kael's eyes flickered. Is he backing off?
"In that case, I'll do it for two more years," Makarov declared.
"You're the Master-elect. In two years, you take over officially. By then your seniority will be enough that no one can complain."
He leaned in slightly, voice turning iron-hard.
"This is not a request, Kael. You don't get to refuse."
Kael's shoulders sagged.
Makarov had made up his mind. Lumen Histoire was not only the guild's greatest secret—it was its most dangerous one. With his health declining, he needed a successor who was powerful enough to protect it, and responsible enough not to abuse it.
Gildarts was the obvious choice on paper.
Kael was the obvious choice in practice.
"…Fine," Kael muttered at last.
"Two years."
Internally, Kael was already plotting. Two years is a long time. The world won't look the same by then. I'll find a way out.
Makarov's face finally eased. He looked relieved—as if a knot in his chest had loosened for the first time in months.
That Evening
Kael walked home with Mira, the two of them strolling hand-in-hand along the river path. Their relationship had shifted naturally: the unspoken barrier between them was gone, replaced by the comfortable warmth of something new and real.
Mira glanced at him.
"What's on your mind? You're usually overflowing with energy when you come back with a big reward. But you've been quiet all afternoon."
Kael sighed. Then he told her everything about Makarov naming him as successor—carefully avoiding any mention of Mavis, Fairy Heart, or what lay beneath the guild.
Mira stopped walking.
Her eyes went wide as one hand rose to cover her mouth.
"The Master… he officially named you as his successor?"