Aelius helped position the massive bowl of ice Gray had made at Porlyusica's request beneath the orb. He watched as Gray extended the rim higher and higher, shaping the edges with careful precision so the water, magic, magic water, whatever it technically qualified as, wouldn't spill a single drop once the shell gave way.
The orb hovered above it, pulsing faintly. Juvia was suspended inside like a mosquito held in amber.
"Now we just break it, right?" Natsu said, slamming his fists together, flames licking at his knuckles.
"Yes," Porlyusica said sharply, already irritated. "But we need a controlled break. Not an explosion. A brute like you will only make it worse."
Aelius felt the shift before he even looked up; several heads turned toward him. He scoffed immediately. "Not me. Still water is the perfect place for rot to spread."
Gray's eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Aelius exhaled slowly, biting back the instinct to snap. "It means my magic spreads. Whether I want it to or not. If it infects the water, which is her magic, then it's the same as stripping it from her entirely." His gaze flicked toward Juvia's pale form. "Unless you'd prefer her own power turning septic inside her because I contaminated it." That shut Gray up, though barely.
Porlyusica clicked her tongue. "Good. At least you understand your own contamination."
"Charming as always," Aelius muttered. He stepped back from the orb, folding his arms loosely. "You need something precise. A fracture point. Not a shatter."
Erza stepped forward slightly. "A single focused strike?"
"Not force," Aelius corrected. "More like resonance. The shell is layered magic. You hit it wrong; it collapses inward. You hit it right, it splits along the seams."
Makarov looked between them. "And you know where those seams are?"
Aelius walked closer again, this time not touching, just observing. His eyes tracked the faint lines in the surface. The inconsistencies in the flow. "Yes."
Natsu grinned. "So you are helping."
"I'm advising," Aelius said flatly. "Big difference. Blame Levy for teaching me how this works." He pointed to a faint distortion near the lower left quadrant of the sphere. "There. It's thinner. The magic is flowing unevenly through that segment. You disrupt that point cleanly, it should unravel instead of implode."
Gray stepped forward, ice forming along his arm. "I can lance it."
Porlyusica raised a hand. "Slowly. You pierce and immediately pull back. No lingering."
Gray nodded once.
Vanessa moved closer to Aelius, her voice low. "If this goes wrong…"
"It won't," he said.
"You don't sound confident."
"I'm not," he replied honestly. "But I'm right."
Gray inhaled, frost tightening into a narrow, compressed spike along his hand. The air around them stilled. Even Natsu quieted.
Gray thrust forward. The ice spike struck the marked point. There was resistance, a high, glasslike sound vibrating through the air. Then a thin crack spread outward. The orb fractured. Water began to pour, controlled, guided by Gray's extended ice rim into the massive bowl below. It shimmered as it fell, more magic than liquid, but contained.
Juvia dropped with the collapsing shell. She hit the ice basin's surface, and instead of splashing, she sank. No resistance, or ripple, nor anything remotely like how water should function. Her body slipped beneath the surface like it was swallowing her whole, thick and viscous, more like gel than liquid.
Erza stepped forward instantly, but Porlyusica's staff struck the ground with a sharp crack.
"Leave her," the old woman snapped. "I can work better while she's still submerged."
Erza hesitated, but she obeyed.
"The rest of you," Porlyusica barked without turning, "leave. All of you." There was grumbling. Natsu started to protest, but one look from Makarov shut him down. The crowd began to disperse, reluctantly.
"You, boy," Porlyusica pointed directly at Aelius. He stared at the staff tip like it had personally offended him.
"You," she continued, pointing at Elfman next.
Elfman straightened instantly. "Yes, ma'am!"
"And you two." The staff shifted toward Gray and Erza. "Help me move her somewhere more secluded. And if I spill even a drop—" She didn't finish.
She didn't need to. Gray swallowed. Erza nodded once, determination etched into their features.
"Surely I can't be the best option for this," Aelius muttered under his breath.
"No," Porlyusica shot back immediately, sharp eyes flicking to him. "But you seem to know far too much about this kind of magic structure, and you are more tolerable than the rest of these humans."
That made Aelius blink. That was about as close to Porlyusica saying she liked someone as she would ever get. And it had been directed at him. "…I'm honored," he said dryly.
"Don't be," she snapped. "Lift."
Elfman carefully slid his arms beneath the ice basin, reinforcing its underside with solidified muscle. Gray thickened the rim further, sealing any weak points. Erza cleared the path ahead, already shifting into lighter armor for maneuverability.
Aelius stepped closer to the basin, watching the way Juvia's form drifted just beneath the surface of her own magic. The liquid shifted around her slowly, keeping her suspended.
"Where?" he asked.
"My home," Porlyusica replied. "No interruptions, and I can work uninterrupted."
That last one was clearly meant for Natsu, who huffed from across the clearing. They began to move after that. Every step was slow, making sure the ice didn't crack or the liquid didn't slosh. It moved almost as a single, contained organism, thick and self-sustaining.
As they walked, Aelius kept his eyes on the surface. "She's still circulating," he said quietly.
Porlyusica grunted. "Barely."
Gray's jaw tightened. "She'll live."
Porlyusica didn't answer that, nor did Aelius.
The path to Porlyusica's hut felt longer than usual. He could feel the tension in every controlled breath Gray took, in the way Elfman's muscles trembled under the strain of holding steady instead of strong.
When they reached the door, Porlyusica shoved it open with magic and ushered them inside.
"Set it down here," she ordered, clearing a wide table with a sweep of her arm. Pushing it away with magic
They lifted the basin together and eased it into place. Porlyusica immediately moved to the side of the container, staff hovering over the surface, eyes narrowing as she studied the flow of magic within.
The room fell silent. Aelius stood slightly apart, arms folded loosely but shoulders rigid. For the first time since he'd seen the orb, he allowed himself to actually feel the weight of it, since Nezhhar had left her alive, which meant this wasn't finished.
Porlyusica's voice cut through his thoughts. "Boy." He looked up."If you're going to hover like a specter, at least make yourself useful."
His mouth twitched faintly.`1
"Of course. But quick question," Aelius said, tone dry, edged in sarcasm, "how exactly am I supposed to help? My own contamination, remember?"
Porlyusica didn't even look up from the basin.
"Yes. I remember. You won't be touching the magic."
"That narrows it down," he muttered.
Her staff hovered inches above the surface. The thick water responded to her presence, faint ripples forming where her magic brushed against it, careful, measured. Not invading. Guiding.
"You will observe," she said sharply. "And you will answer when I ask you something."
Aelius folded his arms again, leaning slightly back. "That I can do."
Gray shot him a look. "Maybe drop the attitude."
Aelius didn't look at him. "I'd rather drop you first."
Gray bristled, but Porlyusica cut through it.
"Enough." She snapped, shifting her staff, and the magic water thinned slightly around Juvia's torso, revealing the wound more clearly beneath the surface. The severed arm, poking out of the film. The way the magic pooled and fed back into her instead of spilling outward.
Porlyusica's eyes narrowed. "It's not just suspension," she murmured. "It's circulation and filtration."
Aelius straightened slightly. "Yes."
"You're certain?"
"Yes."
She finally glanced at him. "Explain."
He stepped closer to the basin, careful not to let his magic flare even slightly. "He structured the orb to keep her magic moving. Constant flow prevents stagnation. It also keeps her core from collapsing under sudden loss; no ambient magic could get through the blockers."
Porlyusica hummed thoughtfully.
"He wasn't draining her dry," Aelius continued. "He was sampling. Taking patterns. Replicating structure. If he'd wanted raw power, she'd already be empty."
Gray's fists tightened again. "So he's still copying it."
"No," Aelius said quietly. "He already did what he came for. This?" He gestured at the basin. "This is the aftermath."
Porlyusica adjusted her grip on the staff. The water shimmered, tightening around Juvia's core like a second skin. "Her magic signature is unstable," Porlyusica said. "Not damaged beyond repair. But fragmented."
"Can you stabilize it?" Erza asked.
Porlyusica ignored her. Instead, she looked at Aelius again. "When you said breaking the orb would disperse it permanently," she said, voice low, analytical now, "you were guessing?"
"Yes, and no," Aelius replied.
"You've seen this before."
Aelius thought for a moment. "Something similar."
Porlyusica's eyes sharpened. "And did the subject survive?"
Aelius didn't answer immediately. Then, evenly, "No, but they weren't meant to."
Gray sucked in a breath. And Porlyusica studied him for another long second, then nodded once. "Then you will stand there and tell me the moment you feel any shift in the ambient magic. Your senses are… unpleasant. But precise." That was as close to praise as she would ever give.
Aelius inclined his head slightly. "Understood."
He leaned in, observing the rise and fall of Juvia's chest. Her breathing was labored, every couple of breaths stuttering. As he consciously began feeling the air around him, feeling the magic, instantly, the magic in the room felt heavy and wet. Like being at the bottom of the ocean.
"She's holding," Aelius said quietly.
"For now," Porlyusica replied.
Hours passed. At some point, Porlyusica had driven the others out with sharp words and sharper glares. Gray resisted the longest. Erza left without argument. Eventually, it was just the two of them in the dim, herb-scented room, the basin of thick, shimmering water between them. Though they could both hear Gray and Erza speaking outside, Something Aelius unfortunately could not fault them for, the three of them would be able to win. Should Nezhhar use Juvia as a trap.
Bit by bit, the witch worked.
She didn't force the magic back all at once. That would have shattered Juvia's core outright. Instead, she thinned the suspension gradually, guiding narrow streams back into Juvia's body, pressing them into her like stitching torn fabric together. The water level in the basin lowered slowly as the color of Juvia's skin faintly returned.
Aelius stood opposite her, eyes half-lidded, senses stretched thin but controlled. Every time the flow wavered, he said so. Every time it surged too quickly, she corrected it before it could destabilize.
It was delicate, and above all, excruciatingly slow. But finally, the last of the magic water dissolved into her.
Juvia lay still at the bottom of the now-empty basin, soaked but no longer submerged. The wound at her arm no longer leaked.
Porlyusica exhaled sharply.
"She's got just about the worst case of MDD you can have without dying," she muttered.
Aelius glanced at her. "Magic Deficiency Disorder," he translated quietly.
"Yes, I know what I said," she snapped. "There's a potion. Blue, red cap. Third shelf behind you. Bring it."
He turned immediately, scanning the cluttered shelves of glass bottles, labeled in sharp, efficient handwriting, his eyes locked onto the potion, with a blue hue, a light red cap. He grabbed it and brought it to her without comment.
"Her magic is back inside her," Porlyusica continued, uncorking it with her teeth. "But her core was drained so absolutely that her body no longer recognizes it as its own. It's rejecting it."
Aelius' jaw tightened. "Like a transplant."
"Precisely. If I don't stimulate the recognition pathways, her magic will destabilize internally. At best, she loses control permanently. At worst, she is cripples magically.
She poured a measured amount between Juvia's lips, then pressed her palm flat against the center of her chest.
The potion reacted instantly, a faint blue glow spreading under Juvia's skin, converging toward her core.
As Porlyusica pulled the potion bottle away, Aelius' eyes narrowed slightly, "Wait."
Porlyusica paused, already irritated. "What now?"
"There's something in her mouth," he said, leaning closer. "Paper."
A thin white edge was just barely visible between Juvia's lips, softened from moisture but still intact. It hadn't dissolved in the magic. That alone made Aelius' stomach tighten.
Porlyusica made a displeased sound. "Don't contaminate her."
"I'm not touching her magic," he replied evenly. "It's all back inside her anyway, witch." He crouched, ignoring her scoff, carefully sliding two fingers to the corner of Juvia's mouth. He avoided her mouth, avoided any flare of his own power. Slowly and gently, he pinched the visible edge and pulled. The paper slid free in one smooth motion.
It was folded twice. Damp, but protected, coated in a faint sheen of magic that repelled the worst of the moisture. Aelius stared at it for a long second. "Of course," he muttered.
Porlyusica's eyes sharpened. "What is it?"
He unfolded it carefully. The handwriting was Dramatic, almost elegant, despite being drawn by what most would call a kindergartener. Aelius' expression flattened as he read. "…He left a note," he said.
Porlyusica made a disgusted noise. "Showman."
Aelius read the first line and immediately scoffed. "At least you understand," he muttered flatly.
Porlyusica crossed her arms. "Read it properly."
He inhaled once through his nose and began aloud, voice dry and edged with restrained irritation. "'Heeeeyyy N.'" His jaw tightened slightly. "'I know what you're thinking, and yes, she tasted like water.'"
Gray, who had absolutely not gone far enough away, made a violent choking sound from the doorway.
Aelius didn't bother to look up. "'But, but—and hear me out. Or is it see me? Either way, see me out.'"
Porlyusica muttered something under her breath in a language that sounded distinctly non-human.
"'This is not me breaking my promise. Mostly.'" Aelius' eyes darkened at that. "Her magic was unique. And I find myself in want of playing firefighter. And unlike most water magic, hers makes her actually water. It's not something you can learn. Instead, it's genetic. That," he finished coldly, "is really cool. And I wanted it.'"
Silence filled the room. Gray had gone very still, his temper dulled by the sheer audacity of Nehzhar's words. Porlyusica's expression could have won her a stone shaping competition.
Aelius didn't look at them. He kept his eyes on the page. "'Don't get me wrong, I'm still going to get ya,'" he read flatly. There was a crudely drawn winking face next to it. "'But you're safe. For a little bit.'" His eyes narrowed slightly at that phrasing. "'A mutual unnamed acquaintance of ours gave me a rather interesting detour.'"
Porlyusica's gaze sharpened immediately at that.
"'But as you can see, she's still alive. And even her arm will be fine. Body made of water means limb loss is rather trivial.'"
The room went very quiet. Gray stepped forward. "What does that mean?"
Porlyusica answered before Aelius could. "It means," she said tightly, "that he is either arrogant enough to assume her physiology will compensate… or he altered it."
Aelius' jaw flexed once.
"He's not wrong," he said quietly. "Juvia's elemental conversion isn't surface-level. When she becomes water, it's total integration. If her core stabilizes fully, she could theoretically reconstruct lost mass."
Gray stared at Juvia's unconscious form. "So… he didn't take it permanently?"
Aelius didn't answer right away. "He took it," he said finally. "But he might not have destroyed the blueprint."
Porlyusica looked irritated by how calm he sounded. "Continue."
Aelius glanced down at the page again, then flipped it over once. Nothing on the back. No hidden ink flaring under residual magic. No secondary script.
"That's all there is," he said at last, holding the letter up slightly between two fingers. "Short. Dramatic. Annoying."
Gray stared at him. "That's it? He does all this and leaves a joke and a threat?"
"Yes," Aelius replied evenly. "That's exactly what he does."
Porlyusica made a low, displeased sound in her throat. "He wanted a reaction."
"He got one," Gray muttered.
Aelius folded the paper carefully along its original creases. "I'm going to inform Makarov that she'll live," he said. "Before Natsu burns down half the forest in anticipation."
"You will not dramatize it," Porlyusica snapped. "She is stable, not recovered."
"I'll use small words," he said dryly.
Gray stepped closer to the basin, eyes locked on Juvia. "You're just… leaving?"
Aelius didn't look at him at first.
"Sorry if all this made you forget," he said flatly, folding the note once more and slipping it into his coat, "but I really don't care for most people."
Gray's jaw tightened.
"I'm helping," Aelius continued, tone even, almost bored, "because I know who did this. And because I'd get yelled at if I didn't."
That earned a faint scoff from Porlyusica, though she didn't look up from Juvia.
Gray stepped forward. "That's it?"
Aelius finally glanced at him. His expression wasn't cruel, it wasn't even mocking, it was just there. "Yes. That's it." He shifted toward the door. "Now, if you'll excuse me," he added, "one of the people I actually like is probably attempting to outdrinkdddddd-www Cana. Vanessa has a bad history with Nezhhar."
Aelius left after that, the door closing softly behind him.
Erza was still outside. She hadn't moved far. Her arms were crossed, posture rigid, the kind of stillness that only came from forcing yourself not to pace. Her eyes snapped to his the moment he stepped out. He didn't slow. Didn't dramatize it. Just gave a single, small nod.
She exhaled.
It wasn't loud, but it was immediate. The tension in her shoulders eased, loosened enough to breathe through. All she needed was confirmation that Juvia wasn't dead.
Aelius kept walking. The forest swallowed him quickly, the air cooler under the canopy, the noise of the guild fading into a distant murmur. He preferred this part. The in-between. The quiet where no one was asking him questions or watching his face for answers he didn't feel like giving. Leaves shifted under his boots, light cutting through branches in fractured lines. For a few minutes, there was nothing but wind and the steady rhythm of his own steps. It was peaceful.
By the time he broke through the treeline and the rooftops of Magnolia came back into view, the town had largely steadied itself. Earlier panic had dulled into wary normalcy. Shop doors were open again. A few vendors had dragged their carts back into the streets. Conversations had resumed in low, cautious tones. Not all eyes were fixed on the guild hall anymore, waiting for it to crumble or explode or ignite like it had had a few months before.
He reached the guildhall quickly, like normal. The doors were wide open, one hanging slightly off balance like it had been kicked one too many times, and even from outside, he could hear it. The noise wasn't at full volume, not the kind that shook the rafters, but it was there. Dull. Muted. Still unmistakably Fairy Tail.
Which was to say, chaos.
Laughter cut through the air, someone shouting about a broken table, a crash of glass followed by a very defensive "It wasn't me this time." The guild was breathing again. Not steady. Not calm. But alive.
Aelius stepped inside without hesitation.
A few heads turned. Not many. He wasn't loud enough for that. He wove through the mess with the ease of someone who knew exactly where fights would break out before they happened. He shifted left just before a chair went flying. Slid past two members mid-argument. Stepped over someone who may or may not have been unconscious.
The air smelled like ale and smoke and sweat and something vaguely burnt.
Normal.
He reached the bar.
Makarov was there, as always, perched on his stool like it had grown under him. The old man had been watching the door since before Aelius stepped through it. He didn't pretend otherwise. His eyes locked on him immediately.
Aelius stopped in front of the counter.
"She'll live," he said, giving a small nod.
Makarov didn't respond right away. His gaze searched Aelius' face, not for lies, but for omissions. For the parts he wasn't saying.
"And?" the old man asked quietly.
"And she'll keep both arms," Aelius added, resting a hand on the counter. "A body made of water makes Limb loss more inconvenient than injury."
He leaned across the counter without asking and stole a bottle from behind the bar, not bothering to read the label. The cork came out with a dull pop. He took a long drink straight from it, not wincing, not reacting, just swallowing like it was water.
"The witch didn't want me to 'dramatize it,'" he said, making faint air quotes with the hand still holding the bottle, "but Juvia's likely to get her magic back. So there should be no permanent effects."
He took another swig, longer this time. Half the bottle was gone before he lowered it.
"Why is Fullbuster so invested in the woman?" Aelius added, glancing vaguely toward the far end of the hall. "It's no secret she's head over heels for him. I didn't know it was reverse."
Makarov laughed softly at that, the sound rumbling low in his chest.
"Well, you aren't wrong," he admitted, though the smile dimmed slightly as he took a drink from his own bottle. "Gray said something felt off last night. Juvia wasn't stalking him home like normal."
Aelius snorted faintly at that.
"I think," Makarov continued, gaze thoughtful now, "he feels responsible. That if he had done something, if he'd noticed sooner, maybe he could have saved her."
Aelius' eyes flicked down to the liquid in his bottle.
"Ah," he muttered. "Survivor's guilt then. Basically."
He caught Makarov's sideways look immediately.
"No," Aelius said at once, before the old man could even open his mouth. "I will not talk to him."
The smile that returned to Makarov's face confirmed that he had been exactly where he was going.
"Why not?" Makarov asked lightly. "You both have experienced it. Or are you going to tell me that survivor's guilt doesn't apply to Alaric? And that's just from what you've told me."
Aelius opened his mouth to respond.
Nothing came out.
His eyes narrowed slightly as he closed it again, the faintest shift of something behind them before the mask slid back into place.
"I…" he started, then exhaled through his nose. "Will not talk to him. I'm not made for those kinds of talks. Besides, he'll listen to you better."
Aelius lifted the bottle again, draining what was left in one steady swallow before setting it down a little harder than necessary. The wood beneath it gave a dull knock.
"Alaric was different," he said, voice lower now, less dry. "I could have saved him. But I failed." The noise of the guild carried on around them, laughter, shouting, someone arguing about who owed whom money, but it felt further away at the bar. Makarov didn't interrupt.
"Nehzhar," Aelius continued, fingers resting loosely against the empty bottle, "is so far out of Fullbuster's league it's almost insulting to compare it. It's like a child fighting a dragon."
Makarov's eyes sharpened slightly. "You don't think Gray could grow strong enough?"
"That's not what is said," Aelius replied immediately. "But yes. Strength isn't linear. Nehzhar doesn't fight fair; he changes strategy, magic, even personality on a switch." His jaw tightened faintly.
There was a beat of silence before Aelius went on. "Alaric stood in front of something meant for me." He finally looked at Makarov. "Fullbuster's situation isn't misjudgment. It's weakness. Juvia was targeted because of what she is. Because to Nehzhar, she's interesting." The word tasted sour on his tongue. "If Gray had been there, he wouldn't have saved her," Aelius said. "He would have made it worse."
Makarov studied him carefully. "You're very certain."
"Yes."
"And you don't think he deserves to hear that from someone who understands what it feels like to replay a moment over and over?"
Aelius' gaze flicked away, toward the far end of the hall, toward nothing in particular. "That's why you should speak with him. You made it very clear that you have gone through the same stuff as me in your years".
"I suppose that's fair," Makarov sighed, draining the last of his drink before setting the bottle aside. "I can't tell if the guild would be better or worse if the rest of these children could think like you."
"Definitely worse," Aelius snorted immediately. "Can you imagine Natsu with foresight? The town wouldn't survive the week."
That earned a small huff from the old man.
Aelius rubbed a hand over his face, then glanced toward the door again.
"Did you see where Vanessa went?" he asked. "She doesn't do well around Nehzhar. Or when his handiwork's been done."
Makarov's grin returned, wider this time.
"You mean your little sister? She made sure everyone in town knew that."
Aelius froze for half a second. "She what?"
"Oh yes," Makarov continued pleasantly. "Very loud about it, too. Corrected Cana twice."
Aelius closed his eyes slowly. "She said she was going back to her house," Makarov went on, entirely too amused. "Which I believe means your house. She was muttering about your runes as she left. Something about not being able to pass between them." He paused. "And I think she mentioned breaking them."
Aelius let his head fall forward until his forehead hit the bar with a soft, defeated thud. "Of course she did," he muttered into the wood. "Say one thing to make her happy." He lifted his head slightly, staring at nothing. "No good deed goes unpunished, I suppose. Though technically it's true."
Makarov chuckled. "You don't sound very regretful."
"I'm not," Aelius admitted flatly. "I just prefer my wards intact." He straightened again, fingers drumming lightly against the counter as he thought it through."She can't pass through the transit arrays unless I key them to her signature," he said more to himself than to Makarov. "If she's trying to force it, she'll trigger the outer ring. That'll knock her back at best."
Makarov's brows lifted. "At best?"
Aelius sighed. "It won't kill her," he clarified. "Probably."
The old man gave him a look.
Aelius exhaled slowly. "I'll go fix it."
"Before she tears a hole in half your foundation?"
"Yes."
Makarov's smile softened just slightly as Aelius pushed off the bar.