Chapter One: The Beginning of the End

It is the dead of night, with the only lights visible being the flickering of the flames of the oil lamps on the stone walls, casting ominous shadows. Outside, the world is already burning, but Hallie Potter couldn't bring herself to care. For just a few minutes, and in this place—their sanctuary, she can afford a few moments of reflection.

She turned her attention back to the journal currently resting on her knees, and barely restrained a low chuckle. After the entire fiasco with the Chamber of Secrets when she was a child, she could never bring herself to write in a journal after that. And despite Ginny's bravado, she knew that the girl felt the same way too.

And yet. And yet…

Hallie pressed her quill to the paper and started to write carefully, her quill flying across the parchment. All her student life, she had struggled with writing with a quill, having used a muggle pen beforehand.

It was Susan Bones, and even the wizard raised who have taught her the tricks to using a quill. McGonagall would be proud if she could see Hallie's handwriting now. The Transfiguration professor used to complain about how Hallie's handwriting was like chicken scratches.

Now, her penmanship is as good as any calligraphy.

"I will not let any acquaintance of mine get by with sloppy handwriting, Potter, end of the world or not," Draco Malfoy had told her snottily when he had taught her how to use a quill properly, much to the amusement of the rest of the resistance.

Hallie only smiled when she recalled that memory.

I sit here, as one of the last humans, in a dying world.

How did it come to this?

We were supposed to win. The war against Voldemort should have been the worst thing we'd ever lived through. But it wasn't. It was only the prelude to something far worse.

The fall of the wizarding world wasn't immediate.

It came in waves.

The moment Voldemort tore apart the Statute of Secrecy with his war, we were doomed. The muggles reacted first with fear. Then came the paranoia. And then the hunting. They didn't see a difference between Death Eaters and ordinary wizarding folk. We were all monsters in their eyes.

The Order of the Phoenix thought reason would win out in the end. That we could live in harmony. If we just proved that we meant no harm.

I knew better.

That's why I left.

I was tired of their blind optimism. Ron and Hermione's constant criticisms of me being "too heavy-handed". Their blind refusal to see the storm for what it was. I know enough of Muggle history to know what is going to happen. To know what those same Muggles could do now that they are armed with weaponry and the knowledge to take out entire cities and countries if they so wished.

Luna and Neville came with me, as did Susan Bones who'd joined the Order of the Phoenix after the murder of her aunt. Together, we built our own resistance from the ashes of what remained. We found others—survivors from Hogwarts, from families that were massacred when the muggles turned on us.

There were so few of us to begin with. And now with the war against not just Voldemort but also the muggles, it thinned out our population even further.

Draco Malfoy. Daphne Greengrass. Theodore Nott. Blaise Zabini. Dean Thomas. Terry Boot. Ernie Macmillan. And even Hannah Abbott.

We became something more than just a group of refugees. We became soldiers.

We fought back.

But even after Voldemort's fall, our battle was far from over. It never truly ended.

And now, as I sit here, I wonder how much longer we can last.

Luna had a vision today. A child, a wizarding child, barely seven years old, captured by muggles. They're experimenting on him. Tearing him apart to see what makes him different. The others say it's a trap. That we can't afford to risk it. But how can I sit back and do nothing?

I won't let him suffer.

I know what must be done. And I know the risks.

This might be my last journal entry if I don't survive. But come what may, I will go and save that child. I will do what I think is right, and not what is easy.

XXXXXX

A storm brewed in the ethereal plane, silent but seething. The very air itself crackled with an intensity that had not been felt in centuries. Death stalked through the realm, his robes billowing like shadows cast upon a dying sun, even as his normally calm demeanour was now pierced by unbridled rage.

Before him, in stark contrast to his towering rage, stood Fate, a being of ethereal beauty, unbothered by the storm brewing around them, a lazy smile playing upon her lips.

"You went too far." Death hissed, his voice low and dangerous. "You played with her life like a child tossing dice, and now, she is broken!" His tone was filled with centuries of pent-up frustration, fury and betrayal. "You destroyed her life, Fate! You've manipulated her, used her as nothing more than a pawn in your endless game for your own amusement!"

Fate tilted her head, feigning innocence. "I do not control her choices."

"You put her there. You set the board, moved the pieces. You knew how it would end." Death accused.

Fate regarded him with an almost bored expression, her gaze distant as though she was looking through him rather than at him. "You are angry because Hallie is the descendant of your only friend. I understand." She said with a nonchalant flick of her hand, as though dismissing the gravity of Death's accusations.

Death's fists clenched in anger, the very foundations of his domain seeming to tremble with the force of his wrath. "You cannot even begin to comprehend what you've done! You placed her in a world full of strife, and used her to settle your petty games! You never cared for her! Only for your own amusement and your need for control!"

Fate's eyes darkened for a fleeting moment. "You think I care about your anger? You've been alone for so long, Death. Your friend's bloodline is your only remaining tie to a past that you can't change. That's why you are furious. His blood runs in her veins, and now, you cannot stand to see her suffer when we the gods have been playing this game for millennia?"

Death hesitated for a moment.

Fate's words were true in a way. Before Hallie, before Ignotus, he would never have cared about the humans that Fate loved to toy with just to stave off her boredom. It is in the way of the gods—the overseers of the countless universes and worlds that circled around them.

Ignotus Peverell, his first and only friend. He is different. Unlike all those humans who fall into his domain at the end of their mortal life, he had never feared Death. Unlike his two brothers. He faced Death fearlessly at that river so many centuries ago, along with his two brothers.

Death still recalled it like it was yesterday. Like Fate, didn't he also toy with humans' lives?

Until Ignotus came into his life.

"What do you wish for?" Death remembered saying to Ignotus and his brothers.

Unlike his two brothers, however, Ignotus seemed to see through Death's schemes. He only smiled knowingly at Death when it came to his turn—to ask for the gift that Death would grant him.

"I wish to stay hidden from your presence," he had told Death.

And he did. With the help of Death's cloak.

Antioch and Cadmus Peverell came to Death's domain not long after, having grown arrogant at having outsmarted Death, or so they thought. Only Ignotus survived. He had children and even grandchildren. And throughout all that, Death never found him.

Until the day he removed the cloak from his shoulders and handed it to his son. Only then, was it when Death finally found him.

Unlike Antioch who was terrified and Cadmus who almost longed for Death to claim him, Ignotus showed neither fear nor awe. He only faced Death simply even when he showed up before Ignotus, greeting him like he would a friend.

"We meet again." Ignotus had said. "I'm ready."

And so it is. Despite Ignotus being long ready and overdue to be reincarnated once more, he had never left. He stayed by Death's side, being his constant companion and advisor throughout the centuries.

And now, Death had to sit by and watch as the last remaining descendant of his only friend is toyed about with Fate?

Not on his watch.

Death turned on his heel, his movements sharp and full of resolve, his anger undiluted. "I will not stand by and watch you continue this."

Without another word, he stalked off, disappearing into the shadows of his domain.

XXXXXX

The stillness of his own realm greeted him, but Death was not alone for long. Even as he entered the great hall of his domain, he was greeted by the familiar figure of Ignotus Peverell. Though an old man when he had died; here in Death's domain, he took the form of the young man that he had been when he had first met Death so long ago.

Ignotus Peverell who had been not just a listening ear to him and his constant advisor, but also a steady presence for him throughout the centuries. Ignotus' face was a picture of sombre understanding even as he met with Death's furious gaze.

"That bad, huh?" Ignotus murmured quietly, watching Death walking up and down angrily to work off his anger, with Ignotus' voice almost lost in the oppressive silence of the domain.

There was silence for several minutes even as Death continued working off his anger, not trusting himself to not lash out at Ignotus with his current mood. Fate sure had the uncanny talent to step on his toes and push at the right buttons.

Finally, Death exhaled sharply, turning to face his friend. "She's done it repeatedly throughout Hallie's life, Ignotus. Used her, toyed with her life as if it were nothing more than a game. And for what? For her own amusement?"

Death's voice got louder and louder with each word.

Ignotus' expression softened, though he couldn't help being amused at seeing Death this worked up. Though knowing that Death is angry on his behalf due to his descendant being used as a pawn on the board by Fate, he can't help but feel honoured.

Ignotus sighed, a deep sadness clouding his eyes even as he stepped closer to his friend. "It's because of Hallie being of my blood, isn't it?"

Death hesitated. "I won't lie and say that isn't part of the reason why I'm this furious," he admitted. "I've never felt this angry in millennia. Hallie deserves better. But Fate? Fate doesn't care. And the worst thing is that I don't know how to fix this." Death was desperate.

There was a heavy pause, even as both beings fell into silence—one in despair and one in thoughtful silence. And then, Ignotus looked at Death once more, offering something that had been on his mind for quite some time ever since Death first started ranting about Fate and her schemes.

"You know, there is a way to fix this. A way to ensure that she is out of Fate's reach."

Death only raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself. But he knew that Ignotus had never offered him bad advice. "Go on."

Ignotus nodded, his voice steady. "There are worlds that are completely under your domain and control. Not even Fate can interfere. There are worlds where she would be beyond Fate's reach. If you wish to remove Hallie from Fate's grasp entirely, you could send her back to her world."

Death only gaped at Ignotus. "But… It's been destroyed."

"In her time, yes." Ignotus nodded. "But you know as well as I do that worlds recover, no many how many times it is destroyed. It takes time. Centuries. Millennia. But it recovers. To remove Hallie from Fate's grasp entirely, send her to the time when the world is recovering, and humans start over again. After the destruction. After everything that has gone wrong. To a time, and to a world, that Fate cannot touch."

That suggestion settled heavily on Death's mind. Time has no meaning in the domains ruled by the gods. It is entirely within Death's means to send Hallie back to her original world—to a time long after her original era—when the world starts all over again. When humans start recovering again.

And that world falls under Death's control, and not Fate's.

"Tom Riddle who became Voldemort and the humans who played a part in the destruction of their world were the forces that Fate has played with, pulling her into this twisted cycle." Ignotus pointed out. "But there's a chance. A possibility… You could return her, but with the weight of that conflict still hanging over her. To fix what Fate has broken."

Death considered it. What Ignotus is suggesting is not only insane, but it is almost never done. But yet, this might be the only way. An escape, a sanctuary… But at what cost?

"She will not remember." Death said at last. Even Death has to follow the rules of rebirth. While Hallie has a chance at retaining or recovering some of her original memories, considering that it is her original world, he cannot send her back with her memories intact. It beats the purpose of reincarnation.

"She will find her own way," Ignotus said simply. "She always does." His eyes reflected an understanding of the burden that weighed on Death's shoulders. "But you can't let her face it alone, Death. You know that."

Death hesitated for several moments.

Then he made his decision.

XXXXXX

Stalking his way through his domain and to a special chamber that only Death can tread in—not even Ignotus could—Death made his decision.

The realm of Death was neither cold nor warm—it simply existed. An eternal plane where time stood still. Death took in deep breaths as he faced the empty chamber that stood before him, before he then waved his hand. And then, two glowing forms materialised before him.

Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom stood in confusion for several moments before recognition dawned in their eyes.

"Death." Luna gave a short curtesy, still in her ever dreamy voice. "What can we do for you?"

"Why are we here?" Neville wanted to know.

Death paused for a moment, considering the pair before him. The two that are loyal to Hallie above anything else. The two that would walk through the fires of Hell for Hallie if they had to. The two that Death wished more than anything else, that it is them that Hallie had befriended and not the two that had a hand in shaping the destruction of their world.

"I am sending Hallie back to the world." Death paused, "your world. To a time set long after the destruction and fall of humanity. But I need you both to help her once again, to fight for what's right. You were bound to her in life. Would you be bound to her again?"

There is no hesitance from the pair standing in front of him.

Luna and Neville both nodded resolutely, with the female of the pair smiling gently. "She has always been our guiding light. Of course."

Neville stepped forward, his expression unwavering. "We won't leave her alone. We've seen what she's been through, and we owe it to her to stand by her side. We will protect her. No matter what."

Luna nodded in agreement, her voice firm. "We won't abandon her again. We failed her once, but we won't make that same mistake twice."

Death felt a deep sense of gratitude, and also sadness. Along with several others, the pair in front of him had their lives cut too short—having ended way before they were supposed to die, again, by Fate.

Just like how this is also Hallie's second chance, maybe, this can be theirs as well.

Another chance to live.

Death's voice echoed like an eternal whisper throughout the chamber. "Not even I can bend the rules of rebirth. I cannot send you back with your memories. You will not remember her, nor will she remember you. But your souls will find their way back to her, as they always have."

Still, there is no hesitation from them.

Neville only smiled. "Then we'll just have to find her again."

Death nodded, having made his decision. He will send Hallie back once more. But she would not be alone. Her second chance would not be an easy one, and her path would not be easy to walk. It will be one paved with sadness, sorrow, and even betrayal. The remnants of the Wizarding War would still haunt her.

But she would not face those trials alone. Luna and Neville, even with their memories wiped clean, would stand beside her once more, as a constant reminder that no matter the pain, no matter the betrayal, there would always be someone by her side.

And Fate? Fate would have no say in this. For this was Death's domain—and no one, not even Fate, would dare interfere with his decisions.

XXXXXX

~Year X767~

The rain pattered against the small cottage, nestled deep within the wilderness, far from the reach of the world. Inside, a small girl, barely three years old, stared at her hands in wonder. Water swirled in the air, dancing between her tiny fingers. With a giggle, fire flickered into existence, only to vanish a moment later. A spoon lifted from the table, floating lazily in the air before clattering to the ground.

Isolde Clairmont, the Water Dancer, one of Fiore's Ten Wizard Saints, knelt before her daughter, hiding her unease behind a warm smile. Her heart pounded in her chest as she watched Hallie's magic manifest with such ease.

This wasn't ordinary magic—this was something deeper. Something ancient. Something tied to a past that she had tried to leave behind.

"Sweetheart, where did you learn to do that?" She asked, keeping her voice light, though her mind raced with possibilities.

Hallie tilted her head, her huge emerald green eyes blinking in confusion. "I dunno."

When Hallie was born, even Isolde was surprised by the colour of her daughter's eyes. Bright emerald green eyes like that of Hallie's are rare in Fiore. Even with Isolde's travels, she had never met anyone with eyes like that of her daughter's before.

Isolde swallowed hard, glancing at the air where water droplets still lingered before falling to the floor. Fire and Water. Opposing elements, yet Hallie wielded them as though they were nothing more than toys. It was impossible. It was unnatural. And yet, it was also undeniably beautiful.

Her fingers curled into the folds of her dress as she thought of Zeref.

The man she had loved. The man she had left.

Not because he was evil—because he wasn't.

Because she knew the truth. That something hunted him. That there were forces at play, ones far beyond her control, that would stop at nothing to see him erased from existence. She had left to protect their child the moment she found out she was pregnant.

To keep Hallie safe.

And yet, staring at her daughter now, watching her command elements with an ease no toddler should possess, she knew that the past had not been left behind.

This magic—this power—it wasn't hers. It was his.

Isolde reached out, tucking a lock of raven-black hair behind Hallie's ear. "You're special, little one." Isolde's voice trembled just slightly. "So very special."

She took a deep breath. She could not panic. Not now. Not in front of Hallie.

Isolde reached out, cupping her daughter's small hands in her own. They were warm—so small, and so fragile. Yet holding power beyond comprehension.

"Do you feel strange when you do it?" Isolde asked, careful not to let her voice betray her unease. "Does it hurt?"

Hallie shook her head vigorously, her dark curls bouncing. "No! It feels nice. Like the rain, but inside me."

The rain.

Isolde's throat tightened.

That was how she had always described her own magic—the way it flowed through her like water. The way it danced along her skin like the ocean's tide. But Hallie wasn't just water. She was fire. She was something else entirely.

Something older.

Something lost to time.

Isolde wrapped her arms around her daughter, pulling her close, and inhaling the soft scent of lavender, and the lingering warmth of her magic.

"I see," she murmured, her mind already racing ahead.

Hallie beamed when Isolde released her hug. "Mama, did I do good?"

A lump formed in Isolde's throat. Don't react. Don't react. Don't break down, she scolded herself. You can do that when you're alone. Not in front of Hallie. She forced herself to nod. "Yes, sweetheart. You did."

As Hallie giggled and clapped her hands, sending another flicker of fire into the air, Isolde's smile faltered. The world would not be so kind. The world would see her daughter's power and seek to use it. To control it. And if Zeref's enemies ever learned of Hallie's existence…

Isolde shut her eyes for a moment, steeling herself.

She needed guidance. She needed someone she could trust.

There was only one person who knew where she had gone. Only one person she could call upon.

Master Bob of Blue Pegasus.

Her mentor. The one who arranged her hiding place. And also the one who helped her to leave Fiore. He had been like a father to her, and had guided her when she had been young and reckless. He was there at the ceremony when she was named a Wizard Saint, and was as proud as any parent could be. If anyone could help her make sense of this, it would be him.

Hallie yawned against her shoulder, her tiny arms wrapping around her neck. Isolde gently stroked her back, her mind weighed down with worry.

Could she keep this hidden?

Could she keep her daughter safe?

Because no matter what Bob would say—no matter how reassuring he might be—Isolde knew the truth.

Power like this could never remain in the shadows forever.

XXXXXX

Two days later, after tucking Hallie into bed once it was time for her bedtime, Isolde sat across from Master Bob, her old mentor, and the only person she trusted with her secrets.

Bob had arrived earlier that afternoon, his presence filling the small cottage with warmth and familiarity. He had always been a flamboyant figure, dressed in fine silks with characteristic painted lips and his ever-present smile. But today, there had been something in his eyes—curiosity, perhaps even concern—as he greeted Isolde and bent down to greet the small child standing behind her legs.

"And who is this lovely little flower?" Bob had cooed, extending his hands out as if to invite the child closer. Hallie peeked up at her mother for guidance before stepping forward cautiously, watching the visitor.

"This is Hallie, my daughter," Isolde said softly, brushing her fingers through the girl's soft, dark curls. "Hallie, this is Master Bob. He's an old friend of Mama's."

Bob's smile widened as he kneeled before the toddler. "Well, well, what an honour to meet you, little lady. You know, I've travelled far and wide, but I think you might be the most enchanting young mage I've ever met."

Hallie's tiny brows furrowed with confusion. "Mage?"

Bob chuckled. "Why, yes! You have magic in you, don't you?"

Isolde hesitated before crouching beside her daughter. "Hallie, sweetheart, would you show Master Bob what you showed Mama?"

The little girl blinked up at her mother, then at Bob. Slowly, she lifted her hands. A flicker of fire sparked at her fingertips, dancing in midair before vanishing. Then, a small swirl of water lifted from the bowl of drinking water on the table, curling through the air before falling back with a splash. Finally, a book from a nearby shelf floated momentarily before tumbling to the floor.

Bob said nothing for a long moment. But Isolde saw the way that his painted lips pressed together—his eyes clouding with something unreadable—his usual jovial expression slipping for just a moment.

Recognition. Understanding.

Isolde knew he recognised something in Hallie's magic—something ancient. Something powerful.

A secret he wasn't quite ready to share.

Then he grinned, reaching into his bag and pulling out a small stuffed animal—a plush rabbit with floppy ears. "For you, my dear. Every great mage needs a companion."

Hallie's face lit up as she took the toy, hugging it close. Bob then pulled out a few books, flipping through the illustrated pages. "And look here! Tales of grand adventures, magic and heroes. I think you'll like these."

Hallie giggled with childish glee as she climbed onto Bob's lap, listening with wide eyes as he told her of fantastical places beyond the walls of their little cottage. She yawned after awhile, snuggling into the rabbit and blinking up sleepily at Bob. He patted her back before carrying her to bed, tucking the blanket snugly around her small frame.

Once they were certain Hallie was asleep, Isolde led Bob back to the kitchen, her expression serious.

"You saw her," Isolde said, her voice hushed but urgent. "She's wielding magic I've never seen before."

Bob sipped his tea, his expression unreadable. "It's not ordinary magic. It's Ancient Magic. The kind lost to history."

Isolde gave a hitch of breath, with her grip tightening around her teacup. "Is it dangerous? Will it hurt her?"

"No. Bob assured her. "But it will set her apart. And you can't hide her forever."

"I have to try," Isolde whispered. "She's just a child."

Bob reached out, squeezing her hand. "One day, she'll have to stand on her own. And when that time comes, she'll need a place that can protect her."

Isolde shook her head, not wanting to hear it for a moment. "Then why not Blue Pegasus?" She countered. "It's my guild. I know it's a good one. You can protect her."

Bob hesitated, then shook his head. "You know I would if I could, darling. But my guild doesn't have the kind of influence that Makarov and his guild do. Fairy Tail…" He trailed off slowly, "They're…different. More than a guild—they're a family. And they've always been at the center of extraordinary events. There's something special about the mages who gather there. If anyone can protect Hallie, it's them."

Isolde clenched her fists—torn between wanting to deny it, and knowing that Bob was right. In the end, she sighed, nodding. For now, Isolde would give it her all to protect her daughter—teach her what she needs to know in order to control her magic.

Bob set down his cup, his face unusually solemn. "There's also something that you should know, Isolde," he said, with the tone of his voice catching Isolde's attention, and she looked up. "The magic that your daughter wields—it's the magic of the Ancients. The wizards who lived long before even our oldest known magical history."

Isolde leaned forward, her eyes wide. Any mage in Fiore would have heard of the Ancients. Even non-mages do. A long forgotten piece of history that most believe to be a myth today.

"There was a time when they thrived—the Ancients. A civilisation of great power, wielding magic unlike anything we know today. They shaped the world. But they were also feared for their strength. And in time, they vanished."

Isolde inhaled sharply. "Vanished? Or were they wiped out?"

Bob shrugged. "No one truly knows," he admitted. "Only fragments of their history remain—scattered in ruins all over Fiore. But their magic has not been seen in thousands of years. Until now." He met with Isolde's eyes. "Until Hallie."

Isolde's heart pounded. "Does this mean… Could this be from her father?" She wanted to know.

Bob hesitated, then sighed. "Zeref's magic is powerful, but it is not his. No, my dear Isolde. This is something older. Something buried in her very blood. And because of this, others will come looking for her."

Isolde swallowed hard. She had left Zeref to protect their daughter, but had she truly been keeping her safe? Or had she merely delayed the inevitable?

Bob's gaze softened. "You've done well to keep her hidden. But she won't stay hidden forever. And when the time comes, she'll need people she can trust. A place where she can grow into her power. There is only one guild influential and powerful enough to protect Hallie from the forces that might want to control her or harm her." Bob hesitated. "Even from the Magic Council."

Isolde knew what Bob was trying to tell her.

"…Fairy Tail."

Bob nodded. "Fairy Tail."

Isolde closed her eyes in defeat, pressing a hand to her chest. She would protect her daughter for as long as she could. But deep in her heart, she knew Bob was right. The time would come when Hallie would have to face the world. And when that moment arrived, Isolde could only hope that Fairy Tail would be strong enough to keep her safe.

Several long moments of silence fell between the two. And then finally, Bob spoke up again, his voice soft. "Isolde, you need to tell Zeref about Hallie."

Isolde's heart almost stopped.

Bob continued before she could protest. "He deserves to know, Isolde. He loves you. He searched all over for you."

Isolde looked away, her throat tightening.

"He came to me, you know," Bob said, quieter this time. "Right after you left Fiore. He got down on his knees and begged me—begged me—to tell him where you were. And I had to look him in the eye and lie." Bob's voice was full of guilt. "I've never seen someone look so crushed."

Isolde squeezed her eyes shut.

"He has enemies," she whispered, her hands trembling, "There are people who want him dead. And I… I suspect there's a secret faction within the Magic Council that's hunting him."

Bob's eyes darkened. "A secret faction?"

"I don't have proof," Isolde admitted with a shake of her head. "But I've seen glimpses. Things that don't add up. If they find out about Hallie—" She cut herself off, unable to finish the sentence, wrapping her arms around herself.

Bob was quiet for a long moment. Then he placed a hand over hers.

"You don't have to tell the world," he said. "But Zeref deserves to know that he's a father."

Isolde's fingers trembled against the table.

Bob is right, she knew. During her time with Zeref, he had always spoken so fondly of his younger brother—a brother that he had to leave behind. And had often expressed his wish for a family.

Silence stretched between them. And then at last, Isolde spoke up again, whispering even as she looked at her mentor, "I don't know if I can."

Bob's grip tightened. "Then you need to decide soon. Because fate has a way of catching up, no matter how far we try to run."

Isolde exhaled shakily, nodding.

For now, she would do everything in her own power to protect her daughter.

But if fate had other plans in store for her…

Isolde's fingers curled around the edge of her kitchen table, her knuckles turning white. Finally, she forced herself to meet with Bob's gaze once more. There was no trace of his usual flamboyant cheer—only quiet understanding, concern, and something else.

Something like regret.

"If something happens to me," she said, her voice barely louder than a whisper, "I need you to protect Hallie."

Bob's lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn't speak.

"I mean it, Bob." Isolde inhaled sharply, bracing herself. "Swear to me that if I can't be there for her, you'll keep her safe. As safe as you can."

Bob's eyes softened, but there was no hesitation when he reached across the table and took her trembling hands in his own.

"I swear it, darling." His voice was quiet but firm. The mentor and the guild master that Isolde knew. The voice that Bob used that she knew meant that he would keep his word—come hell and high water. "I swear on my life, that I will do everything in my power to keep her safe."

Relief surged through Isolde so quickly that she nearly choked on it. She wanted to believe that this was enough—that Bob's promise—his power and his influence would be enough to shield Hallie from whatever threats lay ahead in her daughter's future.

Bob however wasn't done.

His grip on her hands tightened just slightly, and his gaze turned serious and sombre. "But Isolde, you and I both know that secrets like this never stay buried forever."

Isolde stiffened.

Bob exhaled, leaning back in his chair, causing it to creak slightly. For several moments, he said nothing, looking out of the kitchen window and at the night skies outside, with the moon just visible. "Hallie is Zeref's daughter, Isolde. You can hide her name. You can keep her away from the public eye. But the truth always finds a way to surface. And when it does… She'll have to face the consequences."

Isolde shook her head. "No one has to know." Her voice trembled.

Bob gave her a look— one filled with knowing and sadness.

"Come now, my dear," he said, his voice quieter, but no less insistent. "You know that's not true. The world will find out. And when it does, you need to prepare her for what comes next."

"She's just a child." Isolde snapped, the desperation creeping into her voice. "She doesn't deserve—"

"No child deserves it." Bob interrupted, one hand held in the air to halt her protests. "But it will happen, whether you like it or not. And if you don't prepare Hallie… The world will destroy her before she ever gets the chance to stand on her own."

Isolde bit her lip, her hands shaking.

Bob sighed. "I don't say this to be cruel, Isolde. You know I love you like I would my own daughter. And I will love that little girl as if she were my own." He glanced down the hallway where Hallie had disappeared to bed. "But you and I both know what this world is like." Bob hesitated, as if choosing his next words carefully. "It's not just the wizards. It's everyone."

Isolde frowned, confusion flickering across her face.

Bob sighed, folding his hands over the table. "Zeref's name is a legend. He has become something more than a man—something larger than life itself. There are entire cults devoted to him. Groups that see him as a god—a messiah. And there are just as many who see him as the devil himself."

Isolde's breath hitched. She knew this, of course. She had seen the effects of Zeref's name in the darkest corners of the world.

Bob continued, his voice heavy with something akin to exhaustion. "The civilians—the common folk—they fear him, Isolde. They whisper his name in terror. They tell stories of monsters and curses that he left in his wake. He didn't even do half the things he's accused of, but it doesn't matter. To them, he is the bringer of calamity. And you know why."

Isolde swallowed hard. "Because the royal family lets them believe it," she whispered.

Bob nodded grimly. "The truth of the matter is that Zeref is a good man, and you and I both know it. He's done things, yes. But not nearly as much as the world believes." He paused. "And yet, the royal family has spent centuries maintaining that image. They need a villain, Isolde. A shadow to contrast their light."

Isolde's nails dug into her palms. She had always known this, but hearing it said so plainly made it feel all the more damning.

Bob studied her carefully. "What do you think will happen if they find out Zeref has a daughter?"

That very thought sent ice rushing through Isolde's veins.

"They'll come for her," she whispered.

"They'll either want to kill her," Bob said, his tone grim, "or use her."

Isolde's stomach twisted painfully.

"That's why I need to keep her safe," she whispered, her voice trembling. "That's why no one can know." She beseeched Bob with her eyes—pleading with him to understand.

Bob exhaled slowly, rubbing his temples. "Isolde, my dear… I understand your fear. I really do. But this is the truth of the world we live in. One day, Hallie will be strong enough to stand on her own. But if you don't prepare her… If you don't tell her the truth…"

"Then I'm just throwing her into the fire unarmed." Isolde finished bitterly.

Bob nodded.

The silence between them stretched.

Finally, Isolde spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want this life for her."

"I know," Bob said softly.

Isolde swallowed back the lump in her throat, her hands trembling, even as she blinked back the tears that formed. "I just… I want her to be happy. I want her to be free. I want her to live without the weight of her bloodline crushing her before she ever gets to make her own choices."

Bob stood, moving around the table to kneel in front of Isolde. He took her hands in his own again—his own touch warm and grounding.

"And that is why," he said gently, "This is why you need to make sure that she is ready. Because the world will not give her a choice."

Isolde closed her eyes, her breath shuddering.

Bob squeezed her hands one last time before pulling back. "I will do what I can to protect her, Isolde. I promise you that. But you have to do your part too."

Isolde knew that he was right.

And yet… And yet, even as she looked down the hallway—towards the tiny, sleeping child who was blissfully unaware of the world waiting beyond the safety of these walls, she couldn't stop the painful ache in her heart.

For the first time in years, Isolde wished that she could believe in miracles.