Hey so here is my new FF for fairytail/tensura. So just to let you know this is going to have world travel between fairytail and tensura that wont change but let me know if you want to go to any other worlds by commenting or reviewing. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy it.
The Age of Dragons was a time of roaring skies and trembling earth, when magic coursed freely through every root and stone. Veldanava, the Star Dragon God, drifted through the world with a gaze that saw far beyond mortal sight. He had witnessed kingdoms rise and fall, had created realms and destroyed threats to stability, yet rarely did he involve himself directly in the affairs of humankind. He had grown accustomed to the cruelty of men—accustomed, but not indifferent. It remained a cold ember deep within him, something he did not expect to stir ever again.
Until the day he found the child.
The smell of blood reached him long before he arrived at the shattered remnants of the slave caravan. The ground was carved with signs of a monster's attack—deep gouges, burned wood, and the scattered remains of wagons overturned in the chaos. Veldanava scarcely cared for the slavers; their deaths were no tragedy. But the faint whimper of a heartbeat—thin, faint, nearly extinguished—made him pause. When he pushed aside the broken planks of a wagon, he found a small boy curled into himself, barely five years old, his tiny body bruised, starving, and a stab wound no child should have been able to endure. His eyes fluttered open weakly, revealing a dull green that held neither hope nor hatred, only the hollow resignation of someone who had never been given a reason to fight.
Most beings would have seen nothing worth saving. But Veldanava saw something else—a fragile spark beneath all that pain, a spark that reminded him of the dearest beings to him that he had once nurtured, before in his previous incarnation.
He lifted the boy gently, cradling him against his massive scaled palm, and felt his life slipping away with every passing second. No healing spell could save a body so broken. No ordinary magic could mend a soul worn down to threads. Veldanava knew the cost of what he was about to do. He remembered what it had taken to give life to his daughter Milim in the other world, remembered the piece of himself he had sacrificed to create her. And yet, as he gazed at this nameless child, barely clinging to existence, the decision was made long before he consciously allowed himself to accept it.
"I will not let you fade," Veldanava murmured.
Starlight gathered around him in a soft halo, wrapping the child in threads of pure cosmic essence. The process was delicate, familiar, and impossibly demanding. When the light dimmed, the frail, dying human child was gone—reborn instead as a Dragonoid, stabilized and strengthened by Veldanava's own power. The boy's breathing steadied. His pulse returned in gentle beats. Color slowly crept back into his cheeks. He opened his eyes again, blinking in confusion at the great dragon towering above him.
"You will live," Veldanava said. "And your life will be your own."
The boy flinched at the voice, though he made no sound. He looked at his hands, then at the dragon, as if expecting something he didn't know what but for some reason he felt safe near this dragon.
"You have no name," Veldanava observed softly. "Then I will give you one from this day forward. Your name shall be Varion, Varion Nava."
The child whispered the name under his breath, tasting it as though it were the first gift he had ever been given. It was precious beyond what he would know for a long time.
Some weeks later
The stars hung low tonight.
Or maybe that was only how Varion saw them now—sharper, clearer, closer than before.
He sat in the grass with his legs pulled in slightly, not out of fear but habit. Quiet observation came naturally to him. He listened to the night, the soft wind, the distant hum in the air that his new senses kept brushing against.
Veldanava settled beside him, folding his legs under him in a smooth motion.
"You're calmer than usual tonight," the Creator murmured.
Varion nodded once. "It's quiet."
"Do you prefer quiet?"
A small hum. Not quite an answer, but close. Varion kept his eyes on the sky, his voice soft:
"…I like it. It feels… safe."
That single word was warm to Veldanava's ears.
These weeks had been delicate. Not because Varion feared him—he never had—but because the boy carried a silence shaped by survival. He watched before acting, listened before speaking. A calm, internal stillness that was both a scar and a strength.
Veldanava placed a hand gently on the boy's shoulder.
No flinch. No tension. Varion leaned into the touch, barely but willingly.
"It's time," Veldanava said quietly.
Varion blinked. "For the seal?"
"Yes. Your body, soul, and magic have settled. You've adapted far faster than I expected."
Varion looked down at himself, flexing his small fingers.
He still wasn't used to how different they felt now—stronger, warmer, filled with something that hummed like distant starlight.
"Will it… hurt?" he asked—not afraid, only curious.
"No," Veldanava assured him. "But you may feel… more of yourself."
Varion nodded once, accepting that answer fully.
Veldanava raised his hand to Varion's chest. A faint golden sigil glowed over his sternum—the seal that had kept his reborn Star Dragonoid power compressed and dormant.
"I placed this to help you stabilize," Veldanava said softly. "It was never a cage, only a brace. You were overflowing with power when you awakened. Now, you're ready."
Varion exhaled slowly. "Okay."
Veldanava tapped the sigil.
It cracked like thin ice.
A pulse of silver-white energy rippled through Varion's body—not painful, not frightening, just powerful and his.
Varion's eyes widened slightly. "It's… warm."
"That warmth is your essence," Veldanava said. "Your true nature."
A tiny mote of light flickered above Varion's palm—small, soft, like a spark from a newborn star.
He stared at it, silent but not shocked—more… intrigued.
"…So this is what I am?"
"Yes," Veldanava answered with quiet pride. "This is the beginning of your Divine Star Dragon Slayer Magic."
Varion cupped the tiny light in both hands. It pulsed once, responding to him.
"It feels… calm."
"You are calm," Veldanava smiled. "Your heart guides your power."
Varion considered that. His expression didn't change much, but something inside him settled—a faint acceptance, a sense of belonging.
"Can you teach me more?" he asked softly.
Veldanava's smile warmed the night sky itself.
"Always."
The small star dimmed gently, sinking into Varion's chest like a spark returning home.
The night grew still as Varion's newly freed magic settled inside him. The faint glow beneath his skin pulsed softly—steady, controlled, quiet like him.
Veldanava lowered himself into a resting position, shifting into his full dragon form with a brilliance of swirling constellations. His colossal frame stretched across the meadow, each breath like distant thunder muffled beneath a blanket of stars.
Varion stood beside him, small and calm, watching the rise and fall of the enormous draconic chest.
"Are you tired?" Veldanava asked, his voice deep and warm.
Varion nodded once. "A little."
Veldanava lowered one of his massive forelegs to the ground—an unspoken invitation.
Varion didn't hesitate.
He placed his small hands on the smooth, warm scales and began climbing—not hurried, not clumsy, but with quiet certainty. Each step was deliberate. Familiar. Safe.
When he reached the thick muscle of Veldanava's forearm, he paused only to adjust his footing… then continued upward until he reached the top of his father's arm near the base of his neck.
Veldanava tilted his head down, making the last stretch easier.
Varion stepped forward and gently leaned into the enormous dragon's cheek, just beneath the glowing blue eye. The scales there were warm, softer than the rest—like laying against a sunlit stone.
He exhaled slowly and curled up, knees drawn slightly inward, one hand resting against Veldanava's face.
Veldanava did not move except to lower his head further, creating a natural cradle.
His massive forearm curled inward, forming a protective barrier around the boy without boxing him in.
Varion's voice drifted out, low and soft:
"…You're warm."
Varion's eyelids fluttered once… twice…
Then he was asleep—just like that.
A small, steady rise and fall of his shoulders, a faint silver pulse glowing at his throat with each peaceful breath.
His head shifted only enough to rest more fully against Varion, careful not to disturb him.
He guarded him through the night…
as stars drifted lazily across the sky above them.
Dawn crept gently across the plains, silver light brushing the sleeping boy curled against the vast cheek of a cosmic dragon.
Varion's small form rose and fell in sync with Veldanava's slow breaths. veldanava remained completely still throughout the night—every muscle controlled with divine precision to avoid disturbing the child resting on his arm and face.
When the first rays warmed the meadow, Veldanava opened one glowing blue eye.
Varion stirred.
He didn't jolt awake or flail—he simply blinked up, quiet and steady.
One hand rested against Veldanava's scale, fingers lightly curled.
"…Morning," the boy murmured.
"Good morning, my son," Veldanava rumbled, lowering his massive head so Varion wouldn't have to climb down far. "Did you rest well?"
Varion nodded once. "Mm. Warm."
"I am glad."
Varion slid down the dragon's arm carefully and stood in the grass, brushing off dew from his legs. His expression remained calm, but there was a faint spark in his golden eyes—the new magic settling in him.
Veldanava rose to his full height, unfurling his immense wings. Galaxies shimmered across his scales like drifting constellations.
Varion looked up, quiet but attentive.
"Yesterday," Veldanava said, "you felt your magic awaken. Today, you will see what a Star Dragon can truly do."
Varion's eyes narrowed slightly in focus and excitement. "…show me."
Veldanava's chest expanded as he inhaled—
and the sky changed.
Clouds shuttered.
The air thickened with cosmic pressure.
The ground hummed as if remembering who its Creator was.
Starlight spiraled along Veldanava's throat, gathering in a radiant column.
"Watch carefully," he warned, not as a threat, but as instruction.
Then—
Veldanava roared.
A beam of celestial fire ripped across the heavens—pure white-gold energy, swirling with fragments of constellations. It didn't burn the world.
Reality simply parted for it—
like the roar rewrote the sky for a heartbeat.
The shockwave rolled gently across the plains, brushing through Varion's hair without harm.
When it faded, Veldanava lowered his head again.
Varion's quiet voice lifted.
"woow…Beautiful."
The giant dragon smiled with his eyes. "A Star Dragon's Roar is not destruction. It is an expression of what we are."
Varion placed a hand on his chest. "Will I… be able to do that?"
"One day," Veldanava said. "But for now—begin with breathing."
He lowered himself to the boy's eye level.
"Feel the warmth inside you. The same warmth from last night."
Varion closed his eyes.
A faint glow answered.
"Good. Guide it upward."
Varion inhaled—
—the glow rose to his throat.
"Now release it gently."
Varion opened his mouth—
—pffft.
A tiny spark of white light shot out, flickering before vanishing.
Varion blinked. "…small."
Veldanava laughed, deep and cosmic.
"Even the first stars began as sparks. Try again."
Varion took another breath.
And again.
Each spark grew a little brighter.
And Veldanava watched, pride swelling in a heart older than creation itself.
The years that followed reshaped Varion's world entirely. Under Veldanava's care, he grew from a silent, trembling 5 year old boy into a disciplined and thoughtful youth. Veldanava taught him to harness the magic now woven into his body—how to steady the star-touched currents within his veins, how to summon strength without losing himself, how to let his Dragonoid traits emerge naturally. Varion's features sharpened into a striking face that echoed an air of nobility (younger Sirzechs Lucifer), refined by dragon training into something elegant and steady. His long crimson hair flowed like molten gemstone, and faint shimmering patches of scale grew across his forearms in stable patterns Veldanava recognized immediately.
"You remind me of your sister," Veldanava told him once, referring to Milim. "Strong, but with a heart untouched by darkness."
Varion treasured those stories. He admired Milim deeply, though he had never met her. The knowledge that he was not the first of his kind, that someone else like him existed somewhere—even in another world—gave him a sense of belonging he had never known as a human.
By the time he reached 11 Varion had become accustomed to the quiet, high places Veldanava favored. Most of his life had been spent above the clouds, where wind, starlight, and the slow heartbeat of the world formed his entire understanding of existence. But that changed the morning Veldanava brought him to meet the other Dragon Slayer children.
The valley they landed in was immense, shaped by the passage and training of dragons over countless years. The presence of so many powerful beings pressed against Varion's senses, but he stood straight and calm beside Veldanava, a quiet confidence radiating from him. The dragons watched him curiously as they gathered, their massive bodies forming a living horizon of scales and wings. Igneel towered with fire crackling beneath his red-orange scales. Metalicana's metallic hide glittered sharply. Grandeeney radiated soothing magic. Weisslogia gleamed like a fallen star, while Skiadrum coiled in deep shadow.
One by one, the dragons introduced their chosen children. Natsu Dragneel, only seven, bounced with boundless energy, his messy pink hair framing bright eyes that never stopped moving. Gajeel Redfox, eight, stood with arms crossed, long black hair falling past his shoulders in a curtain that barely hid his scowl. Wendy Marvell, a timid five-year-old with soft blue eyes and dark-blue hair tied in gentle ponytails, peeked shyly from behind Grandeeney's wing. Sting Eucliffe, spirited and blond, radiated enthusiasm at six or seven, while Rogue Cheney six—quiet and thoughtful—hovered at his side, his black hair shadowing introspective dark eyes.
All of them paused when they saw Varion.
He stood taller and older than any of them, long crimson hair flowing behind him, star-patterns shimmering faintly in his eyes. The silver-blue scales along his arms glinted softly in the sunlight. To the dragons, he was fascinating. To the children, he was… impressive. Safe. Someone to look toward.
Before Varion could fully absorb their reactions, two figures approached from the far edge of the valley. Anna Heartfilia walked with confident steps, her long pale hair pulled neatly behind her, her intelligent eyes warm behind the lenses of her glasses. She wore a traveling coat over scholarly attire, giving her the air of a refined teacher unbothered by the presence of dragons. Behind her walked Zeref Dragneel—quiet, composed, and distant. Dressed in dark robes, he carried an aura that made the children instinctively shift closer to their dragons. Zeref never approached the children; the dragons would not allow it. He simply observed, speaking only with Anna and Veldanava about the Eclipse Gate they were constructing.
Anna, however, walked straight toward Varion.
"You must be Varion Nava," she said warmly. "It is wonderful to finally meet you."
Varion's heart stuttered so violently he thought the dragons might hear it. Nothing in his training prepared him for this: the softness of her smile, the gentle warmth of her voice, or the way her presence wrapped around him like sunlight. He tried to speak—truly tried—but the words tangled in his throat. His face flushed in shimmering scale-patterns that he could not control. Anna seemed delighted rather than confused.
"You don't need to be nervous," she said softly, placing a hand on his arm. The touch was light but devastating. Dragons hid grins. Varion nearly died of embarrassment. The younger children, too young to understand such things, noticed nothing.
What they did notice, however, was that they felt safe around Varion.
The first year passed with surprising ease. Natsu and Sting began imitating Varion's training, trying to match the steady, disciplined movements he performed each morning. Wendy gravitated toward him whenever her magic overwhelmed her, soothed by his stable presence. Rogue observed him carefully, studying the way he controlled his breathing and magic. Gajeel, though stubborn, eventually trained near Varion consistently, not quite ready to admit he trusted him but doing so anyway. Varion helped them instinctively. He showed Natsu how to anchor his footing, corrected Sting's over-aggressive swings, guided Wendy's hand when she practiced healing, and waited patiently while Rogue explored the edges of his shadow magic.
Anna taught them reading, magical theory, and emotional control. She often asked Varion to assist, and he always did, though each time she thanked him, or brushed a strand of hair from his face, the scales on his cheeks shimmered visibly. The dragons found it endlessly amusing. Varion found it mortifying.
The second year flowed naturally into the third. Varion grew taller and more refined, the constellation-like patterns on his skin becoming more pronounced. His presence matured into something steady and grounding, a calm center that the younger children unconsciously orbited. The dragons trusted him to guide them during lighter training sessions, and Anna often relied on his help in teaching. Zeref continued to watch from a distance, offering no guidance and no interference, but occasionally sending Varion a subtle, knowing nod—as though recognizing a burden the boy did not yet see.
By the time Varion reached fourteen, it was obvious to everyone—dragon and human alike—that he had become the older brother of the entire group. The children trusted him implicitly. They came to him with scrapes and fears and questions. They sought his approval after victories and his comfort after failures. Wendy fell asleep against his side during long training days. Natsu and Sting constantly begged him to spar. Rogue watched him as one might watch a guiding star. Even Gajeel stopped pretending to be indifferent, trained with him openly, and accepted his advice without argument.
Anna watched all this with quiet admiration. She saw in Varion a strength that was gentle, steady, and rare. When she told him he had grown into himself beautifully, his cheeks glimmered with blush, and she laughed softly. "Still shy," she whispered. "But very sweet."
Varion, flustered beyond words, pretended his scales were reacting to ambient magic. The dragons didn't believe him. Anna didn't, either.
Yet those years—peaceful, warm, filled with laughter and learning—were precious. Varion did not yet understand how fragile such peace was, nor how quickly it could be taken away. For now, he only knew that he had a family, a purpose, and people who looked to him with trust he had never expected to earn.
And far beyond the valley, in shadows neither dragon nor human could yet see clearly, a storm was beginning to gather.
The Age of Dragons was shifting.
And Varion's life—the life Veldanava had saved—was about to change again.