Another chapter?! So soon?! *Gasp* I'm honestly just as surprised as the rest of you. And the next one is already halfway written as well. Sorry that this chapter isn't funny - the subject matter was way too heavy. Hopefully next chapter I can return to some of the lightheartedness.

Proofreading? I don't know her. Have heard good things though.

The first guild master.

Logically, Mystogan knew that there had been others before Makarov. The guild was over a hundred years old, after all. And Mystogan was himself the fourth guild master. But even so… this was honestly the first he'd heard about either of the two preceding Makarov. Which, suddenly, struck him as strange. Mystogan may not have been around the guild very much, but he kept apprised of at least the major goings-on. He'd even attended a Fantasia Parade or two (as a spectator in the crowd, admittedly). It was all he could do to stay connected to his guildmates even if it was so tangentially as to almost be negligible (his recent struggles making that painfully clear).

But having never heard a single word about the first two guild masters? Until now? Now that he'd stumbled into what lay within the secluded sub-basement?

It seemed a bit… convenient.

"You expect me to believe that a child hidden away in the basement is our first guild master?" Mystogan scoffed. "Make up a more believable lie at least, Makarov. Something that will actually convince me that I haven't wasted my time trying to protect a place with something so horrible as its heart! "

Makarov flinched at having his own usage of 'heart' thrown back in his face. "...I suppose I deserve to hear that, my boy," he said. He let out a soft sigh, his shoulders drooping in defeat. "I promise you that there is good reason for all of this. Secrecy included. I only ask that you let me finish the tale before you make any decisions. It's… not an easy one for me to tell."

Reluctantly, Mystogan agreed.

"Thank you." The old man took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. "That truly is our first guild master below the guild. But despite her appearance, she is an adult. The reason she appears to be a child is due to a curse." Makarov paused for a moment, before continuing. "She became cursed when she saved Magnolia and my father's life when they were teenagers. Along with their two other friends, they founded the Fairy Tail guild. Eventually, after a decade or so, she resigned as guild master and left the position to one of the other founders. His name was Precht."

Mystogan's mind brimmed over with questions. What did any of this have to do with Mavis's body being beneath the guild hall? It was something of a relief to know that she was not, in fact, a child, but that made none of this any more comfortable. It also felt like Makarov was purposefully glossing over details, too. It was one thing to say that a curse caused this, but what curse? None that Mystogan had ever heard of stopped a person from growing older. In fact, there were a good number of people in both Earthland and Edolas who wouldn't consider that a curse at all - but rather a highly sought after boon of eternal youth.

However… he held his tongue. He'd wait until Makarov finished, as he'd agreed to. Although now he was finding that almost painful to follow through on.

"Unbeknownst to the rest of the founders, however, Mavis did not return home to Tenrou Island." He shook his head. "Or rather… she did, at first. I don't know what happened exactly when she left the guild," Makarov conceded, "because Precht did not know. A year after Precht took over the guild, a man appeared before him with Mavis's body. He confessed to killing her, dumped her on the ground, and vanished."

Ice gripped Mystogan's heart.

"As you can imagine, Precht was heartbroken. Thoroughly shattered and destroyed. This was his best friend. His family. He loved her. Only, when he inspected her body… she wasn't dead. Her body wasn't, at any rate, but her spirit had fled. This was a coma from which she wasn't going to wake up."

Makarov's jaw clenched. "What else could he do? He couldn't end her life himself. He held hope that she would one day wake up. So he built a room to take care of her, and shouldered the truth and the hunt for a cure alone. He told no one. Not even the other founders. My mother had died when I was born, you see. So my father, Yuriy, was raising me alone. And Warrod was considering leaving the guild to pursue a different path. He couldn't burden them with this. And, as it turned out, that was the correct decision."

Leveling his gaze with Mystogan's own, Makarov spoke his next words with as much gravity as he could infuse into them. "Because Mavis's body being alive meant that her curse was still active. "

There it was again, the curse. "What kind of curse was it?" Mystogan asked when Makarov fell silent.

The old man shook his head. "I'm not sure. Precht only discovered a side effect of it later. It leached into her surroundings periodically, killing anything that lay in its path. It was only happenstance that the first time it occurred, the only victim was a plant instead of Precht himself or the guild members. So he dug deeper and deeper underneath the guild hall, until he reached the limit of her curse's effect, and built the laboratory and contraption she now resides in. It prevents the curse from leaking, but should it ever fail, it won't bring harm to the guild members."

Makarov clasped his hands together. The wrinkled digits shook. "He tried everything to find a cure. But he never did. Thirty years later, he realized that he couldn't continue to look after her anymore. He wasn't young when he took over the guild, and he found he could no longer balance the burden with the guild. His attempts to find a cure had stalled at some point as well. That's when… he appointed me as the guild master, and showed me Mavis."

Teardrops fell from the old man's eyes. "You have to understand, Mystogan, that… that I grew up hearing so many stories about her. My father was her best friend, too, and he died never knowing what happened to her. She… she named me . I grew up loving her, too." He swallowed thickly, not even trying to wipe away the tears as they continued to flow down his cheeks. "I took up the duty of looking after her, while Precht would search the world for an answer."

"...He didn't find one," Mystogan concluded, closing his own eyes briefly.

"...No. I never heard from him again." Finally, Makarov sniffed greatly and wiped his tears with his sleeve. "And that's the whole story. Like Precht, I couldn't do anything - either to cure her, or end her suffering."

It was a tale of tragedy and heartbreak. Despite going into it with a heart steeled against whatever explanation the old man could bring, Mystogan understood the profound loss that Makarov spoke of. Of losing all that you hold dear, and of your entire world turning upside down. And it made sense why Mystogan had heard nothing about the previous two guild masters before, why the stories Makarov had grown up on died with his tenure as leader.

That still didn't make it fair that Makarov had done this to him.

"Why didn't you explain any of this when you appointed me as your successor?" Mystogan asked him, angry and hurt. "Precht at least had the decency to let you know what you were in for. You let me stumble into it." Literally.

A wan smile met his accusation. "Because I was never going to tell you."

Dumbfounded, Mystogan could only stare at the old man in silence for a long moment. "Why?" he finally asked, unable to wrap his head around this. Was he untrustworthy? Did Makarov just not care? " Why? "

"Because you're only nineteen, Mystogan!" The former guild master pressed a bony hand to his heart. "I was already in my forties when I became guild master. And I had difficulty coming to terms with it! You have enough to deal with, between the guild and your hunt for the Animas."

"And what if you had died?!" countered Mystogan, his head throbbing more with every passing second. "What if you had died before you thought I was ready to handle it?!"

"I placed body link magic on the life support functions." He tapped his chest over his heart once more. "When this old ticker finally goes… so will Mavis."

That was when tears began to prick at the corners of Mystogan's eyes. His anger and frustration and hurt only increased at Makarov's heavy words. The young guild master's fists clenched on the blanket.

Seeing this, the old man rose to his feet and patted Mystogan's white-knuckled fist. "I believe our time is almost up for today. You suffered a grave injury, finding Mavis the way you did and Porlyusica will be anxious. Take a few days here, my boy. Rest while you can. Think on my story, and what you want to do, if you like. If it's too much to bear… well… we can discuss what comes next then. Also…"

He reached into a pocket, and laid a small object on the bedspread.

A stamp. With a small, elegant 'M' carved into the handle.

"I found mine last night, after you went missing." He raised his hat, an identical stamp - but lacking an engraving - peeking out from under it. Replacing the hat, he continued, "This is the one you discovered. It was Mavis's. I think she'd be happy if you kept that one for yourself."

With that, Makarov left the cabin.

Mystogan sat, alone, in the dark, his head pounding along with his heartbeat.