Macbeth found Jellal lying on a bench near the guildhall.
"Weren't you going to go see her?"
"She's gone."
It took a moment for Macbeth realize Erza had only left on a mission, rather than died. Jellal sounded so dejected. "What kind of job?"
"A hundred year mission. They wouldn't say where to."
Macbeth presumed the decent thing was to pat Jellal's shoulder. "That's a long time. Can you write?"
"It's only supposed to take a month."
"O-of course." Macbeth withdrew his hand, but not before Jellal smirked.
"You thought it would take her a hundred years?"
"Of course not."