-Fairy Tail Guild Hall, closing time-

Elfman and Laxus were clearing a space in the middle of the guild hall while Mira and Lisanna walked the last few stragglers out the door. The lights were turned low a while ago, the well known signal for all patrons to order last rounds, a. nd to get ready to leave.

"Whatcha moving th' tables round fr? Is a littl late fr moppin th' floors, idnit? You know Mira, I can shtay 'nd help out. M' not too old fr a littl 'ol house work, ya know?"

"That's very kind of you to offer, Wakaba. I'll be sure to let your wife know how eager you are to help out with the cleaning chores. I'm sure she has lots of things you can do at home," Mira said with a big, cheerful smile.

Wakaba's face fell, while Macao slapped him hard on the back, laughing at his friend's stricken look at the reminder that he was still happily married.

"Ha ha ha! Come on, Wakaba. Let's get you home before the Mrs. sends your daughter out to fetch you. Then you'd have both their wraths to deal with!"

The door was shut and locked before Mira could hear Wakaba's nightly lament about beauty and strength being wasted on the young, and for Macao to light his pipe because he couldn't find his lighter again.

As soon as the locks were engaged, Wendy and Freed, who had been waiting by the bar, crossed the room to the cleared space, and started their task of drawing the large and intricately designed magic circle onto the floor. With Wendy's guidance, Freed used his sword to magically write each sigil to her exacting detail, minus anything that referenced the calling forth of dragons.

There was no fear of actually summoning a dragon's spirit. But considering that Irene Belsarion had died not too far from here, they weren't taking any chances, small as they may be, of her overwhelming aura undermining the already precariously present soul from being reached. After Wendy's part was done, Freed would add his own special runes, created with the help of Bickslow, designed to make the circle more alluring to human souls.

While they worked, the others moved on to pushing more tables and chairs away, clearing a path from the corridor leading to Makarov's office to the site of the circle. It made a few of them feel better knowing this path also made for a faster route to the infirmary. Mere seconds would be saved with this path, but those seconds could be the literal difference between life and death, given the right circumstances. The tension was heavy tonight, to be making so many considerations. Other than the circle, and the small bag in which resided the lock of hair, there would be no more preparations needed on their end. As soon as they were done with this task, they'd be ready.

They would be.

But what about those involved in the other end of this undertaking?

ooooo

-Makarov's office-

They all sat quietly as Gray mulled over what he'd just been told. Bickslow and Levy had done most of the talking, trying to stay as clinical and detached as they could be. Just deliver the facts; no opinions, no emotional pleas or expressed leanings one way or the other. Lucy was right. He had to make this decision for himself, with no influence from his friends.

Along with their core group were Cana, Loke, and Porlyusica. They'd even thought to bring Joy along, in case he needed the solace he seemed to find only in her. They wished Master Makarov could also be there, but he was still away in Era. A respected parental figure would have been an asset for this event. Natsu wondered if Porlyusica would be willing to step into that role. The others would likely have doubts. But such thoughts were needless. They'd make this work, and Gray would have his heart to heart with his real mom. He'd be fine. No worries.

Gray was unnervingly still, save for his obviously heavily controlled breathing, and the tight grip in which he held his folded-up cane in both of his hands. Lyon wanted to pry his hands loose before he hurt them again, but knew that Natsu would have done so himself the moment he smelled any blood, so he was probably fine for now. Loke stood by, gaze never leaving his face, waiting for his answer.

Finally, after several tense moments, he spoke.

"There's no other way?"

"I'm afraid not," answered Levy, "If we're to use Milky Way, this is the only way we've found that has any chance of success. But we have to do it soon. Bickslow says even using the keepsake won't work if there's nothing left of your mom's essence in her … in the relic. We have no idea how much time we have left."

…

" ... I don't … know what to do."

Lucy thought he looked like a lost child, wishing someone would make the choice for him. She definitely saw some disappointment. She was sure a part of him must have had second thoughts about doing this, his decision from the night before having been fueled by such raw emotions. Maybe he had, but the possibility of losing the chance to even try may have chased those thoughts away.

"That dark, evil magic has caused so much suffering for my family … for me … But it also made it possible … for me to make peace with my father—"

He broke off, closing his eyes tightly as he squeezed his cane even tighter. Lyon didn't miss Natsu's nose twitching as he surreptitiously sampled the air, only to relax by a degree. Lyon breathed a small sigh of relief as well. That didn't stop him from wondering if maybe Gray was doing that because it really did cause pain. He didn't need to bleed for it to hurt, if it still served as a means to stave off a different kind of pain.

Bickslow stepped up, thinking if he could clarify the powers involved, he could make this decision easier.

"Look, if it helps, I can tell you that we'd only be using a very small aspect of necromancy. In fact, the way we'd be using the relics is closer to how my own powers work. We just need them to boost Wendy's spell. That's all. This is still, for the most part, a dragon slayer spell. We're only calling a soul, not a body. You'd be able hear her. That's all … She won't be able to touch you."

That caused his imperceptible tremors to become much more noticeable, and no one could fathom if they resulted from an increase in fear at the very notion of being touched by his mom … or if maybe, deep down, there was some disappointment at the certainty of her intangibility.

They gave him as much time as he needed to think this through. Truthfully, none of them could choose what his decision should be, either. They all saw many ways in which doing this would help him, but at the same time held many reservations.

Slowly, the tremors faded, and he lowered his hands, loosening his grip so he rested his cane in his lap, and opened his eyes.

"I don't think I can do this … but I have to."

"No you don't. You shouldn't feel compelled to do this if you don't want to," said Erza.

"I do have to. This thing inside me … it will never go away. Not on it's own. If I can't do this, what's to guarantee that I'd be willing to try something different. Or if there would one day even be another option. Another chance. I can't keep … being this way. Something needs to change. I need to face this demon … Besides, I won't have to do this alone."

"Damn right, you won't," Natsu said, somberly, with conviction.

"I hope you understand the risks you're taking with this stunt," said Porlyusica, "and that you're fully aware things won't suddenly go back to normal after this. Though I will agree there are some benefits, all your troubles won't suddenly disappear when this night is through."

" ... I know."

Closing his eyes again, taking in a deep breath, slowly letting it out, he opened his eyes, and held out a still trembling hand.

"I'm ready."

Though she wanted to, Erza didn't ask if he was sure. He didn't need anyone causing more doubt in his mind. Instead, she took the necklace she had safeguarded all this time, held it shakingly over his outstretched hand by the chain, and carefully lowered it into his slightly cupped fingers, not missing the hitch in his breath upon contact of the cool metal against his partially numb skin.

No one moved, but some were ready to respond if he should have an episode similar to the last time he'd tried to reclaim his mother's necklace.

Just like everything else he'd felt since losing so much sensation in his hands, the pendant he now held felt familiar yet strange. He curled his fingers around it, trying to gauge its weight, remembering how smooth it once felt. He stroked his thumb over the dark jewel embedded into the cross-shaped sword. Or the sword-shaped cross. He wanted to laugh bitterly, or cry, at that stray thought. He'd forgotten about that. Such a random thing to flit across his mind at a time like this. And old debate. A silly, humorous argument. A secret inside-joke between his parents.

ooooo

A sword or a cross? The mark of a warrior, or of a peacemaker? No. It was both. The adornment of both the protector and the spiritual head of the household. It had belonged to his father's father, he'd been told, who had been killed as a bystander during one of the many guild wars that had been so prevalent in the past. Given to Silver by his own mother the day he'd confessed having found the one he intended to marry. A beautiful, well-to-do maiden he'd met after performing with a few of his friends at her uncle's birthday party.

After courting her for a while, he'd finally drummed up the courage to ask for her hand. She knew his family was poor, and that he couldn't afford a proper ring of gold to give her. It was after he'd finished performiming at a large village festival, surrounded by many of his musician friends, that he'd presented his father's necklace as a token of his love, and offered his beloved his heart and name.

And it was among all his friends that his heart was broken.

A mere gemstone embedded into a silver pendant, while quite valuable to one who had so little, was a mere trinket to a wealthy landowner's daughter. It couldn't even be sold for an unadorned band of gold. The woman had sneered at the perceived insult, then laughed at the realization that the man was serious in thinking this gift was worthy of her. To her, Silver had been a fun amusement, a diversion from the otherwise dull life of a proper lady.

It was late into the evening when a group of his friends had thought to track him down, wanting to take him to a tavern to help him drink his sorrows away. They found him sitting on one of many logs scattered about, used as seating throughout the festival. He was hunched over, staring at the "mere trinket", face drawn in sadness, but also in anger. At himself. He should have known better. Why would a woman of stature want to marry the poor son of a dead priest and his widow?

Having no interest in company, he'd turned his friends away, and was quite content to remain where he was, for the rest of the night, in his miserable stupor, when someone intruded in his solitude.

"That's a beautiful necklace. Did you buy it from one of the vendors here?" asked a curious voice.

He'd looked up, about to brush the person off, but lost his thought upon seeing who had spoken to him. He recognized this girl. She'd joined the village ensemble recently, and had already made herself at home among the usually rowdy bunch. If anything, she added a touch of class to the crew, he'd often thought since she'd joined. She played the keyboard. The one they had wasn't the best, but was the best they could afford. Nonetheless, she was somehow able to cajole the most wonderful tunes from that cheap instrument. She was a nice, friendly, delightful girl to have around, and he couldn't bring himself to be crude and surly with her like he'd wanted to be. She didn't deserve such ill treatment.

"It was my father's. He was the priest of the village church a long time ago, before he died. My mother had held onto it for so long. I was to give it to the one I would love, but … hmph … maybe I should just sell it after all. Might pay for a few pints at least."

"You shouldn't do that. I can tell it means something to you."

"Can you, now? And how would you know? This is the first time you've ever spoken to me."

"But I've watched you. I know many of the faces you make, and the one you're making now is … one of longing. And sadness. But there's also a bit of relief. I don't think you were quite ready to let it go."

"More like a growing realization of the bullet I'd dodged," he smiled grimly, " ... She said my father's cross wasn't worthy of her. I'd say it was the other way around."

The girl took on a look of slight puzzlement, and came a little closer, peering at the pendant with a critical eye.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"It's nothing. I just thought … I mean, it's not a big deal, but well, I was sure it was a sword."

His bitter smile softened into a more genuine one as he replied, "I suppose I can't blame you. Many swords look like crosses."

"Or perhaps a cross often looks like a sword," she smiled back.

His smile widened, and he chuckled.

"You're an observant one. So … You were watching me, huh?"

"It … it's nothing like that! I mean, sure, when you're playing. You play so well, and when you do, you look like you're really enjoying yourself. I love watching people enjoy what they do. Everyone should be able to have that kind of joy."

"Ah. You like to people watch, I see."

"I like to watch anything that interests me," she replied, smiling bashfully.

One brow raised at her coy, yet bold, admission, his heart skipped a beat as he replied, "... That a fact? *ahem* Well, you know, I've suddenly found myself with a great deal of time on my hands. If you're free also—"

"—I'd love to."

"You don't even know what I was going to say."

"That's only fair. I bet you don't even know my name."

"Well now I feel disgraced. We've worked together these last few weeks, and we hadn't even been properly introduced." Rising, he offered a clumsy, gentlemanly bow, like he'd seen given by the men within his former lover's household. "My name is Silver. It's my pleasure to meet you."

With a soft giggle, the girl returned his bow with a more successfully rendered curtsy, before replying, "The pleasure is mine, good sir … My name is Mika."

ooooo

Everyone was taken aback at his wide yet somehow still sad smile, one of humor that didn't quite reach the eyes, of happy reminiscence touched by bitter regret. Gray's trembling slowly but surely stilled, and he breathed a deep sigh that some of his friends echoed at his apparent lack of dramatic recoil. That was always a welcomed break from the usual.

He'd always loved that story, of his parents' first meeting. It was funny how he seemed able to handle the memory of his mom as not-yet-his mom, but as his father's lover and future wife. Such a difference a simple change in roles made. But perhaps if he could keep those memories within, he could withstand the others. With that thought firmly in place, he took hold of the chain and allowed the pendant to drop, intending to put it on.

But he froze. It was like he was physically barred from doing so, the trepidation was so great, and the feeling wouldn't go away. Instead, he wound the chain around his wrist, allowing the pendant to hang to the side, so it bumped against the knuckle of his pinkie when he'd walk. It wasn't so tight as to remind him of his wired restraints from before, so that hopefully wouldn't be an issue.

Finally settled, he looked up at no one in particular and nodded. It was time.

ooooo

Levy had to take a few breaths to calm her racing heart as they all filed into the main hall of the guild. As Lyon led Gray down the cleared path to the site of the spell, Levy was thrown back to the last time she'd come upon a mage standing within a large magic circle drawn on the floor. It was easy to stay in the present, though. The lights were dimmer than normal, but didn't flicker as candlelight would. The air was warm and inviting, not damp and cool, smelling of staleness, musk and decay. And she had so many of her friends with her this time. Still, she wouldn't mind having Gajeel near for this moment.

Wendy stood within the circle, hands clasped and wringing as she watched everyone take their places. Mira and Lisanna had locked and barred all the doors and windows, while Freed had provided rune barriers for added security. To keep curious onlookers out, and at Laxus' insistence, to keep an unexpectedly hostile summons in. Hey, one could never be too careful when playing around with essentially new spells. Laxus and Freed stood a short distance away from the circle, soon joined by Bickslow. It felt weird being here without Evergreen, but she didn't want to intrude in what would undoubtedly be a very personal meeting. Laxus had come in his grandfather's stead, to stand with his guild mate, as any proper master would.

Everyone else took positions nearby. They had no idea of what to expect. Some had witnessed a rendition of this spell before, but that was without any augmentation. Sure, having a dragon suddenly appear before you was frightening, but at least at the time, they'd been working from the original recipe. This spell would be untested, and there was also the very real possibility that Gray may come completely undone as soon as they got started. Was it too late to back out now?

Gray stood rigid where Lyon had led him, standing before the circle, his back turned to Wendy so he'd be facing where she intended to call forth his mother's soul. He still held needlessly onto Lyon's arm, who could feel the tremors in his hand. He knew with complete certainty that Gray was dead set on doing this, but how much did he really want to? One's will and desire were different actors in any given decision. He'd said so himself, that this needed to happen, whether he wanted to do it or not. To Lyon, it felt like the choice was once again taken from him, regardless of everyone's desires to make sure it was his to make.

"I'm sorry we couldn't wait. I know you really need to do this, but I still feel like a part of you had wanted to have more time to prepare. I also wish we could have waited. I confess that I'm kind of disappointed we couldn't put this off until … we could have removed those seals."

Gray's brows knitted, and his grip tightened on his arm, but Lyon was quick to sooth, "I know how you feel! At least, I think I can guess … how much the idea of actually seeing her again may frighten you … But I just can't help to think that seeing her again, actually seeing her, of how she truly was, would do something for you that would … I don't know. That maybe something within you, something that had been hurt deep down, would be able to heal a little, in a different way than just hearing her voice would do."

He was afraid to say more, afraid that he may have stupidly introduced some troubled thoughts into his head that he truly didn't need right now. But he couldn't take the idea back and say it was just a thought. The hand still gripping his arm was now doing so with enough strength to bruise, but Lyon didn't mind. He'd caused this pang of sorrow. A few bruises were hardly penance.

After a short time, Gray timidly released his grip, taking controlled breaths as he closed his eyes and looped his cane's strap around his wrist, so he could use both of his hands. With slow movements and great care, he responded.

"I'm glad I can't see her. I think we know what would happen if I could. What I may and would do. How much worry I'd cause the others, especially if my heart couldn't take it."

"I know. I'm sorry I even brought it up—"

"—But it's not my reactions I fear … It's … it's hers."

Lyon's eyes widened.

"I trust Wendy. I believe in her skills. I know she'll succeed, and ... I'm going to be terrified. I don't know if I'll be able to move. Or even think. She's going to see my fears, and it won't take her long to know that she's the source of them all. I'm going to be doing everything in my power to keep myself together … But I know that if I could see her … I would only see the monster that wore her face. I wouldn't be able to stop myself from falling apart. I don't know all that would happen, but I wouldn't want her to see me like that. I don't want her to know what seeing her would do to me. I don't want her to know ... just how much fear, and pain, and sorrow she makes me feel."

There wasn't much Lyon could say to that, except, "I understand." Because that much, at least, he could. With how enraged, saddened, indignant, and hateful each of them have felt since day one, at all the suffering Gray's gone through at the hands of Arius; none of those feelings compared to the guilt and anger they'd directed towards themselves at any pain they'd inadvertently caused him. It was a testament to Gray's character how, even through all the hate and bitterness he unwillingly felt towards his mom, he couldn't deny the bit of love he still had for her, that he'd not want her to suffer the guilt of how her very presence terrified him. Seeing the resolution in his gaze and posture, he informed, "Everyone's in position."

With a small nod, Gray mentally readied himself for what was to come, wrapping his hand around the handle of the cane, but then he paused, considering. About to back away, Lyon saw his contemplative look, and stopped to see if he needed anything before they started.

He watched as Gray collapsed his cane, before removing his sunglasses and handing both items to him. He accepted them with a quiet murmur of, "Stay strong. We're right here." He didn't quite understand the motivation behind laying aside these things. If he was trying to conceal his disabilities from his mother, the scars around his eyes were greater evidence to his blindness than the shades that hid them. Perhaps to show a strong front to mitigate the perceptions of weakness?

As he finally backed away, he nodded towards Wendy, who acknowledged his signal to begin. Without further delay, she kneeled in the middle of the circle, gathered what powers she needed to activate the ancient Sky Maiden spell, and raised her hands.

"Wandering souls of the lost departed … I am ready to receive your voices. Milky Way!"

Immediately, a great light radiated from the circle, rising up and around, would no doubt reach the sky and breach the very heavens if not for the cover of the ceiling.

An unearthly wind picked up.

The pouch that lay beside her, just outside the circle, began to move.

ooooo

Within the empty Archives, a quiet clink sounded from the shaking lid of an old, nondescript urn, set aside on a table in the corner, out of sight, out of mind. The few clinks became more numerous as the vessel vibrated, as if with nervous energy. Then, a soft glow, followed by another and another, emerged. Some brightly lit, others dim, they all flowed randomly at first, then turned as one to follow the call that had invoked them.

ooooo

A soft light emitted from the pouch, but no one had time to admire its subtle beauty before numerous more lights appeared, and the one they sought was lost in the crowd.

"What's going on? What are all those other lights?" cried Natsu.

Levy gasped, "Dang it! We forgot about the other ... " before she tapered off. No one had ever mentioned the existence of the other relics to Gray. Looking towards him, she could tell he was using what senses he was able to try to figure out what was wrong. He looked somehow even more nervous than before.

Gray couldn't understand where they'd come from all of a sudden, but he could sense numerous unknown auras all around. Magical signatures boosted by the power of Milky Way, so that their otherwise faint presence could be discerned even by him. If there was one thing he hated more than anything else about his inability to see, it was not knowing who or what was in the same room with him. It was the reason he avoided crowds when he could, and sought shelter outside more often or not.

He couldn't tell what was going on. All he knew was that these things were not expected by anyone here, and that they all held some kind of darkness within them. A malevolence, fueled by rage or despair. Hopelessness. Futility. Bloodlust.

All but one.

"Gray! It's okay! Calm down. We can handle this!" came Cana's voice through the confusion. Was his anxiety that obvious?

"What's wrong?" he asked, knowing Loke would be watching him, ready to give voice to his words.

"There are more souls here than we'd accounted for. Don't worry. We're going to make this work," he tried to reassure.

'What the Hell do they mean by more souls?!'

Meanwhile, Wendy was frantically seeking after her objective, but had lost it in the many lights floating about. She had to focus the spell upon one specific soul, but which one?

"They're all drawn to the power of your spell," came Bickslow's calm, determined voice. He'd removed his helmet, the visor having obscured too much of his vision to track the multiple points of light.

Lucy, who knew the intricacies of having to maintain focus on a task such as this, and what this particular task entailed, replied for Wendy, "Can you pinpoint the soul we need?"

"I'm trying!"

"But what about the others," asked Freed, "Allowing them to roam free may interfere with the spell. They could siphon off the power of Milky Way, trying to manifest in their original forms, just like Gray's mother. The spell will fail."

"Won't be an issue. I'll keep them in check."

"You don't have any extra totems lying around," reminded Laxus, "You won't be able to hold them for long with just your power alone."

"I can hold them long enough. But first …"

His eyes began to glow as they darted back and forth. He'd only ever seen this one particular soul once. They were hard to keep track of, flowing and fluttering about quickly and at random. Where was she … where—!

"There!"

With that excited shout, he brought his hands inches apart, aimed his focus through them towards one especially dim, softly glowing ember, and bound it with his powers.

"Aim for this one!"

Now with a target set, Wendy brought her hands together, focusing all the energies towards the captured soul. As soon as he felt their respective powers collide, Bickslow released the soul, redirecting his own focus, spreading his hands, and with them his powers, out in a broad sweep to capture all the others. Every fragment was bound by his magic, coalescing into a brightly shimmering orb, held aloft between his two hands.

At the same time Bickslow was gathering the other souls, Wendy was finalizing the spell. And Gray …

That minor but very unnerving setback had left him shaken. What were they all talking about, other souls? Had that spell summoned wandering souls from all over Magnolia? A lot of soldiers from Zeref's army had met their end here. Would Milky Way had summoned them also?

'Calm down. It's not like before. These aren't that f*cker's undead army. I don't sense any curse energies among them. Calm the F*CK DOWN!'

But the memories of that day wouldn't leave him, and he had no control over how his mind processed what was happening. He'd never had control. This was too much. They should have waited. They should have done more research, anticipated the other souls wandering out there, came up with a different way. He should have just sucked it up and resigned himself to spending the rest of his life as the f*cked up mess he'd become. How the Hell was this supposed to help him?!!!

Loke saw no words leaving Gray's mouth, but that didn't mean anything. He could tell he was on the verge of a full on panic from his stance alone. Lyon noticed it too, then Natsu, then others. But they'd noticed too late.

The spell was complete.

Before anyone could put a stop to it, the small, dim light had received Milky Way's enchantment, and began to grow in radiance. It started to whirl around in bigger and bigger circles, the light trails taking on a swirling pattern. Soon, it appeared as if a portal had opened, several meters right in front of Gray.

Even though some of them had seen this done before, with a dragon no less, it didn't stop them from feeling the same sense of awe as those who were experiencing this for the first time, as a figure of a woman slowly stepped out of the portal.

Erza and Natsu recognized her immediately, and knew they had succeeded. She was a young woman, looking to be in her mid to late twenties. How tragic to have died so young. She had a petite figure, slim and delicate looking. Her hair, its auburn color hidden by the ethereal green of the power flowing about her, gently swayed in the winds produced by the released energies of the spell. She was garbed in what looked like a thin tunic made of light, the same light she was made of.

No one spoke as she took in her strange surroundings. She had been lured here, captivated by an undeniable force. She turned a full circle, about to ask where she was, and who all these strangers were, when she caught the sight of a very familiar face, and stood in absolute shock and wonder.

"Silver?"

Just to be real with you, this reunion arc is long. And heavy on the feels. But after all the build up, and everything Gray and his friends have gone through, there's no way this arc was gonna be rushed.

Also, that memory about Silver and Mika's first meeting has also been published as a separate one shot. Cuz I think it deserves it's own spotlight, and there are plenty of Silver and Mika fans who would miss out if they chose to never read this rather lengthy story.

Next chapter: Gray comes face to face with his personal demon.