Deep within the quiet forests of Devi, the bright moonlight shone on a lone figure as he limped down a long trail, following the path of destruction left in the wake of a tiring battle.

I have to finish the fight...

Mystogan's head pulsed with pain, his exhaustion mounting as he lumbered using his fan as a cane. The blood dripped from the open wound where he severed his arm, at the joint on his right shoulder. With each passing second, he lost more blood, and with each passing stride, he stumbled after his opponent.

I can't let him recover...

The seemingly endless task passed in a few minutes as he made it to the clearing where they'd first battled and saw his opponent dragging himself along the ground with a broken body and dying will.

I have to make sure he can't get back up.

Mystogan let that thought simmer as he dragged his fan behind him, the glove of his left hand sparking with purple magic before it stopped. His breath was taken as he saw what his opponent had been so desperately crawling towards a limp snake nestled on the ground.

Is he...

Mystogan watched with a sad understanding as the dry hacking of blood and tears echoed from the dragon slayer's lips before he curled around the snake like a child.

Ah...

A crying, sobbing, lonely child.

Never mind.

Mystogan's glove stopped sparking as he turned, trying to move toward the arena's edge before he stumbled. His fan fell limply by his side as he collapsed to his knees and fell in a pooling puddle of blood that continued to trickle from his severed arm. The clean and fresh wound was only hampered by the twisting robe of his sleeve that had become wet with crimson liquid and stained blood red.

Shit...

Mystogan's head was fuzzy as his cheek became glued to the dirt, his eyes hazily glancing at his reflection in the bloody mirror beneath him as his consciousness faded inch by inch.

I can't fall asleep...

Mystogan could admit, through hazy breath and flickering eyelids, that he was scared. He hadn't wanted to die here; he still had so much he had to do; he had to stop his family. He had to go back to Edolas and stop his father; he had to see Rain again so they could settle their unfinished business.

Dammit...

But even his body from Edolas, which had resisted unholy amounts of poison and injuries, had a limit, and he had long since passed it.

Sorry, Rain... Sorry Wendy.

As Mystogan closed his eyes, for what he figured would be the last time, he could admit that he was scared of one thing more than any other fear nestled deep within his heart that was getting ever quieter.

I won't get to see you two again.

Under the moonlight, Mystogan, the first prince of Edolas, fell into a deep and dark sleep.

Midnight remembered the first time he met someone who completely outclassed him in magic.

How'd this old man break my illusion...

It was when Father first brought him from the tower and showed him how to use his innate magic. The skill and precision that came with Father's wisdom made every single spell seem practical. It was a level of skill and intelligence that made Midnight feel like a bumbling toddler in comparison.

Even father couldn't do it that easily.

With a weary expression plastered on his tanned face, the older man gave off the same feeling.

Who the hell is he...

The slight frown that took the older man's lips, the sunken eyes that looked at him with understanding yet disappointment all at once, got under Midnight's skin more than he wanted to admit, so much so that the growl that escaped his lips was far more defensive than he expected it to be.

"Who the fuck are you, old man?"

Midnight was more nervous than he wanted to admit.

"Get lost before-"

"But I am lost," the old man interrupted with a flat face, stopping Midnight's words as he stared at the old coot incredulously. Watching with a growing twitch in his eye, the older man gave a childish smile and chuckled as he'd just pulled the best prank known to humanity. "Just kidding!"

Midnight's scowl spoke for itself as the old man burst into laughter, the odd sight reassuring Midnight that his first impression must have been wrong; the old man was just a crazy old coot.

I'm just overreacting...

Midnight sighed and calmed himself, his stupid and unwarranted nerves down as the old man contained his sputtering and spoke with a tear in his eyes, "My name is Raubol, by the way."

Midnight had nothing to fear from the old man; he was just an idiot.

"I'd ask for yours, but something tells me the answer wouldn't be genuine."

Even worse than that was that he was annoying, already spouting nonsense like he hadn't stumbled upon a bloody battlefield: "Seriously, you young lad, I know these woods like the back of my hand; why, if you go just a bit eastward, you'd see a good river."

Midnight was overreacting. Yeah, that must be it. He could kill this bag of bones whenever he needed to. He was just a rambling old fool still talking about whatever stupid river was nearby.

"It's just over yonder, and the fish there are the best."

Midnight made a silent decision, subtly moving his magic as the air twisted and shimmered until a perfect copy of himself stood in his place. The fake Midnight stood beside Siegrain, looking at the older man with considerable interest, while Midnight moved under the cloak of contorted air.

Might as well put the old loon out of his misery.

His movements were hidden from the world as he walked past the floating body of the unconscious Racer and towards the older man who was spouting off some lecture about violence and youth.

"Seriously, you two, fighting like you did is dangerous, although it was impressive."

Midnight had already gotten his magic to twist around his ring finger, the invisible blade poised and ready as he got behind the old man who was still fucking yapping, "Your illusions could use some work, though, Siegrain."

God, does this old man do nothing but-

"You too."

Midnight's thoughts stalled as the aged voice lecturing Siegrain turned. Midnight saw the older man turn back disapprovingly, staring straight at Midnight—the true Midnight that should have been invisible, muttering underneath an aged breath.

"Your illusions are incredible for your age..."

Midnight shot his arm forward, his eyes wide as the older man disappeared, and the invisible blade hit nothing but air. His eyes went wide in surprise, and he felt a sudden dread as the illusion of his fake self and the illusion cloaking him shattered all at once, and he was revealed to the world like a babe stripped of its blanket.

"But you're still a few centuries from competing with me."

Midnight stood shell-shocked, unable to compute how his illusions were shattered again before he felt tiny old feet stand on his head and a cane swatted his forehead in what seemed to be a playful way to reprimand his attempt.

"I applaud your eagerness, though."

Midnight's neck prickled, and panic took his heart as he tried to strike the man above him, only to hit nothing but air once again. A sight prick in his vision distracted him for a second before the older man's cocky voice brought him back to earth.

"A young mage should always be looking to improve," Raubol's voice echoed from behind Midnight, seamlessly pushing Midnight into another fit of rage with its childish and utterly unworried tone, "Why, when I was your age-"

"Shut up, would you!?"

Midnight turned behind him, cracking a whip of invisible magic that shattered a tree and completely missed the target, which vanished once again.

Where the fuck is he!?

Midnight growled as he tensed the magic around him, the air thrumming with energy before he heard a mournful sigh from a nearby treetop. Midnight flicked his rage towards the older man sitting atop one of the branches, his aged cheek resting on his palm. "Well, I guess there's no point talking to you yet. What a pity."

A series of invisible blades shot forward, cutting the branches in half as the older man vanished; no teleported, that had to be it. The older man teleported before the attacks, and the falling branches and leaves hit Midnight's ears, as did the other, aged voice that echoed through the darkness of the woods.

"Guess I'll have to tire you out a bit."

The taunting voice enraged Midnight, blinding his vision before he realized everyone else was gone. Jellal's brother had vanished without a trace, and even Racer's unconscious body was nowhere to be seen.

The old man must have taken them somewhere else.

In just a few seconds, the old trickster had snuck the others away, leaving Midnight alone with nothing but his wits to follow and the same aggravating voice echoing through the forest.

"Don't worry."

Midnight stood alone in this dark section of the woods, pulling all his magic to the surface as he glared at the surroundings. He was ready to destroy everything in the vicinity because he knew the old man was hiding nearby and taunting him with a jester's confidence.

"I'll go easy on you."

Midnight growled at the words, his eyes flashing as invisible magic curled around him like a spring, and he got ready to turn this entire fucking forest into a freshly cut lawn. He was done playing hide and seek with these mages who just loved to push his buttons.

"I don't like to bully children."

Midnight wouldn't rest until the forest that gave him nothing but troubles was gone.

The moonlight drifted over a silent forest as Wendy sprinted through the shrubbery, her eyes wide and frantic as she chased after the smell like she'd been doing for the last few miles. She was exhausted, pushing her magic and body as far as it could go without rest, running the forest with a desperate quickness and determined swiftness.

I have to get to him...

Wendy's legs moved like crazy as she ran through the night, her feet blistering as she trailed the scent of apples. Her eyes were in the distance as she closed the gap mile by mile until a faint explosion sounded, and her heart nearly stopped. Not from the sound or the scare but because the scent she followed changed in nature a few moments later.

No...

The scent of apples was drenched in blood and charred ash.

"JELLAL!"

Wendy screamed as she raced forward, her magic glowing as she sped through the final stretch of her journey. Her heartbeat was pounding in her chest as she came across a small dirt trail surrounded by hints of previous battles before laying her eyes on the sick source of her nose's premonition.

Is that...

It was in the center of a scorched area, blackened and charred beyond recognition. The smell told a story of burnt flesh and seared bone, but the sight was sick enough to make her lose her lunch.

I'm going to be sick...

Wendy tried and failed to control her stomach. She put her hands on her knees as her head got dizzy and her lunch left her. She vomited from the sight of the arm... it had to be an arm; it wasn't big enough to be a body and wasn't sufficient enough to be a leg. It was an arm. Jellal's arm was on the ground before her, and she didn't know what to do with it.

I can't heal that...

Maybe if she'd gotten there sooner, before it had decayed so much, but now there wasn't enough to heal. Even if she did, she wouldn't know how to reattach it; she didn't have a body-

Dangit! Focus Wendy!

That's right, there wasn't a body.

Jellal still needs my help.

Wendy took a deep breath, wiping a bit of throw-up from the corner of her mouth as she forced herself to a stand. She was trying her best to ignore the smell. Was it always this bad? Did he feel it burning like she smelled it burning? She didn't know but forced those rampant thoughts away and turned to the trail ahead. Tracing the footsteps that led down a beaten path before she chased after them, latching onto a new scent that wasn't as charred but just as bloody.

Please be alive...

No, it was even more bloody than the arm.

You have to be alive.

Wendy's panic, desperation, fear, and everything in between pushed her faster than she thought possible. Her magic thrummed as she blew past the trail and ended up in the initial battlefield she'd left Jellal at when the snake guy first showed up and scared the living daylights out of her. She was back at the field, but it was different.

What happened...

It was war-torn; craters that smelled of toxic waste were rampant, and torn shrubbery was thrown around in this barren wasteland underneath the moonlight. With the air tinged with a scent of poison, magic, and blood... so much blood.

Where-

Then she saw him.

"JELLAL!"

She saw him lying in a pool of his blood, the bloody stump of a right arm hidden beneath a dark and empty sleeve. Wendy's legs moved before her brain noticed as she got to his side, kneeling and reaching with shaking hands. Green light floated beneath her palms as she watched his breath slowly fade, her eyes watering as she tried to focus on anything that wasn't red and crimson and everywhere.

"You have to be alright..."

Wendy murmured those shaky words like a prayer as she tried to stitch Jellal's body back piece by piece. Never focused on the fact that Jellal's chest wasn't moving and that she couldn't hear his breathing even with her dragon slayer senses; it had just gotten that quiet. No, she couldn't focus on that, so first, she stopped the bleeding, letting her green magic converge at Jellal's right shoulder so that the torn flesh melded, closing off the stream of blood and turning the fresh wound into a new stump. Then she moved to the poison that was in his body... god, there was so much poison, why was there so much poison... she focused on that. She tried to focus on that, but it was so much, and she didn't know how much she could get rid of, and she just didn't-

"Give up first generation..."

Wendy's breath stalled, and her crumbling focus shattered as a strangled voice cut through the air. Wendy's shaking brown eyes turned to see the one who had done this, the scary one, curled up in a ball with a near-lifeless snake. Not acknowledging her presence beyond the words he spoke that sent terror into her heart, "My poison is a different kind of lethal; you can't cure him. Not now, not ever."

Wendy's magic dimmed, her breath quickened, and her eyes closed with fright as she listened to his words ring around. The sound racketed around like a pinball as her doubts and insecurities grew. The worries of not being good enough flooded her panicked mind and crippling her; it would have drowned her if not for one memory.

"Might as well save yourself the trouble and let that bastard die."

It was a small game of hide and seek, and she'd promised to win.

"Lord knows he deserves it."

She had promised!

"After everything he's-"

"SHUT UP!"

Wendy screamed, her eyes wide and furious as she growled at the downed mage. Her voice rose as her magic did, and she poured every ounce of herself into removing the poison from Jellal's body. Her eyes tore as she glared daggers at the scary man looking at her from behind blinded eyes.

"YOU DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO! YOU DON'T TALK LIKE YOU KNOW HIM! JELLAL IS A GOOD PERSON! I KNOW THAT MORE THAN ANYONE!"

Wendy wouldn't let Jellal die...

"HE SAVED ME!"

Wendy refused to let him die before she thanked him for everything he'd done for her; she wouldn't...

"SO I'M GOING TO SAVE HIM!"

She wouldn't let him disappear again.

"...whatever first generation." The downed mage muttered with a bloody cough, curling back around his snake as Wendy continued to heal Jellal. Inch by inch, pint by pint, she went through his body and purified the poison that was coming from his bloodstream.

Come on...

It got to the point that her magic plummeted, and her head started ringing; she pushed on. She couldn't stop until she healed him; she wouldn't stop until she healed him enough that he wouldn't die.

Please don't die...

Wendy's eyes blurred and burned with tears as her trembling hands moved across Jellal's torn body, eventually getting to his face, which now had a rough and harsh tear through the right cheek.

You can't die.

Wendy drained herself to complete the healing, and her magic flashed and stitched the torn pieces together, leaving Jellal with twin red flesh lines going from the corner of his lip to his right ear and cutting perpendicular to the red tattoo trailing down the right side of his face.

I want to tell you about Oak Town and all the lovely people you left me with at Cait Shelter.

She drained herself so much that the marathon she had run miles through her forest felt light, but she never thought to stop.

I want to find Grandneeny and have you two meet because she would love you, too.

She healed Jellal from minutes in the end, but it felt like hours in her weary and nerve-stricken heart.

I want to talk to you again.

She could have sworn an eternity passed after the light died down, and her magic had run its entire course through Jellal's body, healing the most grievous internal injuries and leaving the rest to fate.

So, please...

She could swear there was never a lingering moment other than the second after, when nothing moved, and even Jellal's breath seemed to stop.

Don't-

Wendy flinched as Jellal coughed up a hint of blackened blood from the realm of unconsciousness. Her eyes tinged with worry before she saw his chest start to rise and fall typically again, albeit a little strained and less than quickly, but he was breathing! He was breathing loudly and thoroughly, which meant he was okay, and that meant...

"You're alive..."

That meant he was alive.

"Thank goodness you're alive."

Wendy's grateful sobs echoed through the quiet night as she watched Jellal's chest rise and fall, making sure she wasn't dreaming it as she thanked the stars that he hadn't died. She had saved him, she had done it, she had healed him, and now she just had to take him back to Raubol and-

"Dammit, first generation..."

Wendy flinched, her head ringing from the migraine that came with overutilizing her magic container as she turned back to the mage that nearly killed her Jellal. Her eyes narrowed on the three... oh, there were three of them; she must be dizzy. She was dizzy, unsteady, and angry, but more than anything, she was just so significantly... So very tired.

"Why'd you have to go and prove me wrong."

The scary mage sounded like he was also exhausted.

"Why'd you attack Jellal?" Wendy asked, forcing herself to her feet with a wince as she cradled her ringing head. Her feet moved through the mud as she walked towards the fallen figure and saw the snake he cradled so tenderly, in such a contrast to his rough and violent mannerisms.

"Cuz I'm an asshole, I guess..."

It didn't take Wendy long to realize that he and his snake were dying.

"Does it matter first generation?"

The scary mage coughed up another wad of blood, watching through scarred and blinded eyes from his place on the ground. His head tilted back down to his snake as he curled up an inch further, all his body would likely allow, before muttering under his breath, "Go away, would you..."

The images of Wendy's few moments alone in the woods after Grandneeny vanished flashed through her eyes at the sight. It was terrible, even if the mage might have deserved it. Still, it hurt to watch, to see someone dying so quickly before her eyes. It stung, and before she knew it, she was on her knees, and her hands were moving, hesitantly stretching out but not toward him, even as he spoke resignedly.

"You and that dickhead can live happily..."

She didn't know... she wasn't sure... even if she could heal his injuries, she didn't know if she would want to. He nearly killed Jellal, her Jellal, after she just got him back. She couldn't just ignore that.

"So just let me die in peace..."

Yet even then...

"I want to die with my..."

She didn't want to see him hurting so severely by himself, and before she knew it, her hands had lit up with a green light that flowed through the air. The thrum startled the dying person beside her, and a panicked growl escaped his fanged lips: "Hey! What're you doing? First Generation!"

The scary mage called out to her in a confused rage, yet his words buzzed in her ears. She was so tired, and she barely had the energy left to heal a broken arm, much less him, who was at death's door.

"What are you doing to..."

But a snake...

"Coballios..."

She could heal a snake.

"...Coballios?"

A tense silence followed the mage's hopeful and gentle question as Wendy's magic lit up the air. Then, as the last of her magic container was drained, Wendy fell silent. Her arms fell limply by her side as she took a deep breath and promptly started to collapse under the weight of her exhaustion.

"There," Wendy muttered as her eyes started to close. She fell, her tired eyes watching the snake that had been minutes, maybe seconds, from death. The snake began to wake and promptly slither away.

'Hiss'

Her last sight was its head raised, and its fangs bared to the mage, who was looking at her with what she could only imagine was a shocked expression.

"All... better..."

What a funny thing to see before darkness greeted her.

Midnight stood in the center of a dark forest, the moonlight shining overhead as trees were felled one by one. Their tumbles echoed as Midnight shot blade after blade at a surprisingly nimble opponent, who flickered away easily from every single one.

"Missed me."

It was so goddamn infuriating!

"Missed me again," the old man chuckled as he jumped over another slash with the skill of a spring cat, "maybe you should take some target practice; Magna's good at hunting if you-"

"SHUT UP!"

Midnight roared as he slashed at the older man, who flickered away again and appeared atop another tree, one of the few still standing after Midnight's rampage through the forest. The older man's loud cackles sent absolute rage down Midnight's veins as he tried to hit the slippery old fart.

"Would You!"

Only to miss.

"Stop!"

Miss, and miss, over and over again.

"FUCKING MOVING!"

"No thanks," the old man commented from nearby with a laugh, teleporting with a chortle as Midnight nearly popped a blood vessel. His eyes twitched in anger as he looked at the older man with absolute hatred; Midnight was being made a fool of. No one had done that before, much less in the mockingly nonchalant manner the older man did so.

"Sorry, boy, but I would prefer not to greet death after hiding from its grasp for so long."

If Siegrain had made Midnight mad, this old man had made him livid.

I'm going to fucking tear him limb from limb.

It wasn't just a split-second decision anymore but a wholehearted fact. Midnight would tear this older man apart; all he had to figure out was how the old fuck was teleporting. As well as how he was able to break Midnight's illusions-

Oh... wait a minute.

That's right. This old man had easily broken Midnight's illusions. What an oversight on Midnight's part to assume he was dealing with a teleporter. He blamed it on his exhaustion.

I'm such an idiot!

The answer to his dilemma was so bloody obvious.

He's using fucking illusions, isn't he!?

Midnight gave a dry breath as he turned his gaze to the ground. A dry chuckle escaped his lips before he let out a loud, self-deprecating cackle. Midnight's hand ran through his hair before he leveled his gaze at the older man, who looked at him with a confused and startled expression. The older man opened his mouth to comment before getting startled as Midnight used his magic on the still night air.

The air began cracking around them, and the shards of the illusion fell to earth. The image of the older man that had been so chipper before shattering like glass and instead revealing the real one kneeling next to an unconscious Racer and an equally unconscious blue-haired individual, who had succumbed to his injuries and was now sleeping unawares. Midnight took in the sight with a growing sense of satisfaction as he watched the old man look at him like he'd seen a ghost.

"How did you..."

The older man's terrified mutters brought a smile to Midnight's face as he grinned viciously. His footsteps echoed in the quiet night as he stomped towards the older man, who backed up like a scared child and tried to make another illusion.

"Invisible Magic"

Like hell, Midnight would let that happen again.

"Twisting Scythe"

Midnight's invisible blades shot forward instantly, cleaving the older man in two as the ignorant chieftain spit blood and fell to the ground in two halves. Midnight's cackles joined the older man's sputters as he walked up and stomped on the older man's chest, which had been separated from his legs.

"WHAT'S WRONG YOU ANNOYING OLD BADGER! NOT LAUGHING NOW, ARE YOU!?"

Midnight grinned as he punted the older man's torso away from his legs, sending the dying old fuck into a nearby tree, where his blood splattered into the surrounding dirt and bark. The old man's eyes glazed over as he started to pass, and passed fast, and Midnight got the best seat in the fucking house.

"What's wrong, you old fuck? Too old to know when to mind your own damn business?" Midnight cackled as he watched the light fade from the older man's eyes, and the bloody corpse became just another one on the list. It was lying in a pool of blood underneath a tree, like a fresh grave.

"Finally..."

That was fucking tiring, and it was only the appetizer too. Midnight still had the main course left.

"Now for you," Midnight muttered, turning to the unconscious copycat that had prickled his nerves earlier. Midnight chose the more unceremonious option and cracked an invisible whip onto his sleeping opponent's head. The tattooed face that had annoyed him for so long splattered like a crushed watermelon, killing the copycat in a single hit.

"There..."

Midnight didn't feel like drawing this shit show out any longer.

"All done."

Midnight chuckled as he kicked the headless corpse for good measure, stretching his sore muscles before he released a relieved sigh. That was far more work than it should have been, but at least it was over; now he could fucking take Racer and leave this shit hole of a forest. Cobra be damned.

"Come on, cripple..."

Midnight didn't have it in him to go pick up that stupid loser after all the shit he'd dealt with.

"Time to take you to father."

Midnight smirked as he walked over and grabbed Racer's good foot, the attached one, to be clear, and dragged him across the ground. He walked past the corpses of Jellal's brother and the bisected older man, scratching the top of his scalp as he walked with his idiot guild mate into the woods.

I can't wait to go back and rest...

Original mission be dammed, Midnight didn't care to look for...

Hopefully, Father will understand that I can't...

To look for...

Look for...

What was he supposed to look for again?

Huh...

Midnight frowned as he ran his fingers through his hair, his eyes quirking as he looked back one last time at the battlefield. He caught the two corpses in his sight—one old man and an annoying copycat. Yeah, that made sense, but he felt like something was missing.

What was it again...

It was so odd; he could have sworn there was a reason he had come to this forest. Not to kill Jellal, that was a lucky break, but something different. There was a reason he went to this forest in particular. He was supposed to look for something that Father thought was important.

Fucking what was it...

Midnight frowned as he thought in circles, eventually giving up because, for the life of him, he just couldn't remember the damn thing he came to this forest to find. It must be the exhaustion getting to him; he'd probably be better after a good night's sleep away from this shitty place.

Ah, screw it, it's probably not urgent.

Midnight didn't have time to waste stewing over something he'd forgotten, but he was sure it would return to him later. So, for the time being, he began walking into the forest and left the two corpses behind him, his eyes trained on the dark and seemingly endless path ahead of him. At the same time, a small part of his brain was scratched at the same spot in his hazy memory as if trying to pry the information out of it.

Was it to check out the Dark Guilds? No, that doesn't sound right. Was it to destroy a Light Guild? No, but I may have done that accidentally. What was it then?

No matter how much it itched and scratched, it just didn't work, and for the life of Midnight, he couldn't figure out why it wasn't. He couldn't figure out why a small part of his memory seemed so...

Weird...

So hazy, like it was covered...

Well, whatever...

Blanketed by a deep and thick mist that he couldn't peek through.

I'm sure it'll come back eventually.

It was like a fog held his mind hostage and wouldn't let go.