The first rays of sunlight crept over the horizon, casting a golden glow across the newly restored town of Shirotsume. The air was still thick with the lingering scent of smoke and blood, but life was already beginning to return to normal. People bustled about, tending to the wounded, cleaning up the remnants of battle, and comforting those who had lost loved ones.
I stood at the outskirts, watching as the town slowly pieced itself back together. The Traveler's Clock had done its job, but even with the buildings restored, the scars of the attack would take longer to heal.
I adjusted my coat and slung my bag over my shoulder. It was time to move on.
"Leaving already?"
I turned to see one of the town guards approaching. He was the same grizzled man from last night—the one who had stared at me like I was some kind of myth come to life after watching me rewind time.
"Yeah," I said, stretching my arms. "Stuck around long enough."
He scratched the back of his head. "I don't know what kind of magic that was, but... you saved this town. If you ever need a place to stay, you'll always be welcome here."
I gave a small nod. "Appreciate it."
A soft tug at my sleeve made me glance down. The little girl from last night stood there again, still clutching her stuffed toy. Her eyes weren't as full of tears this time, but they still shimmered with something unspoken.
"You're really leaving?" she asked.
I crouched down to her level, offering a small smile. "Yeah, but you're safe now. No more monsters."
She hesitated, then held out something—a small, crudely stitched doll. "Mama made this for me, but… you should have it. 'Cause you're a hero."
I blinked. Of all the things I'd received in my life—money, weapons, priceless artifacts—this tiny doll felt… different.
I took it carefully, tucking it into my coat pocket. "Thank you. I'll take good care of it."
She gave a shy smile before her mother called her over. With one last wave, she ran off, leaving me standing there with a strange warmth in my chest.
I exhaled, adjusting my bag again. "Alright, time to hit the road."
The guard crossed his arms. "Where to?"
"Magnolia," I said, already turning toward the open road.
"Safe travels, Mr. Aiden."
I nodded. With one last glance at the town, I set off, the morning sun casting long shadows as I walked toward my next destination.
I adjusted my cloak and secured the satchel at my side. The townsfolk had warned of dangers ahead, but I wasn't worried. I had picked the right tool for the job: the Wardstone of Tranquility.
A small, rune-etched pebble, the Wardstone pulsed with a faint warmth in my hand. The moment I activated it, the oppressive silence in the dense forest lifted, replaced by birdsong and rustling leaves. I still felt eyes on me, but whatever lurked in the shadows kept its distance.
The road stretched out before me, the Wardstone of Tranquility humming softly in my satchel, its subtle warmth a constant reassurance. The journey so far had been smooth, and the absence of any hostile encounters allowed me to appreciate the beauty of the countryside. Yet, as the sun climbed higher into the sky, the thought of traveling alone began to weigh on me. Companionship, even if brief, would be a welcome change.
As if summoned by the thought, a faint creak of wheels on cobblestones caught my attention. A cart approached, pulled by a sturdy horse and driven by a wiry man in a wide-brimmed hat. His weathered face squinted at me as he slowed.
"Morning, traveler," he called. "Heading far?"
"Magnolia," I said, pulling my hood lower. "Are you going that way?"
He scratched his chin. "Lucky you. That's my destination too. Not every day I see a lone traveler on this road. Dangerous times."
"I've managed well enough," I said, offering a small smile. "Would you mind some company?"
He studied me, then nodded. "Climb on. Just mind the crates—fragile stuff."
I hopped onto the cart, settling beside a stack of barrels. "Thanks. Name's Aiden."
"Osric," he said, flicking the reins. "You don't look like a merchant. Or a farmer. What brings you to Magnolia?"
"Just traveling. Seeing the world."
Osric nodded
I said to continue the conversation. "What about you? Been making this trip long?"
"Too long," he sighed. "Magnolia's got a good market, decent folk. But these roads? Used to be safe. Now? Bandits, monsters, you name it."
"You've run into trouble?"
"Not yet," he said, patting the crossbow under his seat. "But folks say the Vulcans are hunting in packs. Smarter than before. Makes me wonder if this trade's worth it."
I kept my expression neutral. "Ever seen one yourself?"
"Nope. And I'd like to keep it that way. But let's talk about something that won't make me regret this trip. Ever been to Magnolia before?"
"Once or twice," I said.
"Then you know about Fairy Tail," Osric said with a chuckle. "Rowdy bunch, but good people. Always looking out for the little guy. If you're sticking around, you should pay 'em a visit."
I smirked. "Maybe I will."
The journey passed quickly, filled with Osric's tales of merchant life and town gossip. As the sun dipped lower, Magnolia's gates came into view, bustling with activity.
Osric pulled the cart to a stop. "Well, this is where we part ways. Whatever you're chasing, good luck."
I shook his offered hand. "Thanks, Osric. Safe travels."
With a final nod, he flicked the reins, and the cart rolled forward. I turned to face the lively streets of Magnolia, my eyes drawn to the distant guildhall. Taking a deep breath, I stepped through the gates, ready for whatever lay ahead.
The gates of Magnolia creaked as I stepped into town, and I was immediately struck by its vibrance. Unlike the wary energy of Shirotsume, Magnolia was alive. Cobblestone streets stretched before me, flanked by colorful flower boxes and fluttering banners. The scent of baked goods mixed with river air and forge smoke, creating a welcoming aroma.
Children raced past, laughing as they chased a stray dog. A street performer juggled bright balls to the delight of a small crowd, while a lute's melody drifted from an open tavern door. It was a town filled with life—one that thrived on community and stories yet to be told.
I wandered into the market square, where merchants called out with promises of the best goods in Magnolia. Fruits glistened in the sunlight, bakers offered golden loaves, and blacksmiths displayed gleaming weapons. I paused at a fabric stall, admiring the craftsmanship. The merchant, a woman with calloused hands, noticed my interest.
"You have an eye for quality," she said with a knowing smile. "Eastern isles weave—strong and light. Good for travelers."
I nodded. "It's beautiful work."
She seemed pleased and returned to her wares as I moved on, letting the market's energy guide me.
Further into town, I spotted a tucked-away shop with a weathered sign: Enchanted Oddities. Stepping inside, the air was cool and laced with a hum of magic. Shelves lined with glowing rings, rune-etched amulets, and potion vials in every color surrounded me. An elderly man sat behind the counter, his long beard resting atop an open book.
"New to town?" he asked, sharp eyes appraising me.
I nodded. "Just arrived. Your shop caught my eye."
He smiled faintly. "Good instinct. I cater to those with a taste for the unusual. Look around. Maybe something will speak to you."
I examined the trinkets, intrigued but not compelled to buy. Even so, the visit left me with a deeper sense of Magnolia's hidden depths.
As I wandered back outside, I followed the distant sounds of cheers and laughter, leading me to an open square. A lively crowd had gathered around a broad-shouldered man with fiery orange hair. He wore a patched yet regal cloak and held a mug of ale, his booming laughter contagious. The way he carried himself told me everything—this was a man who had seen the world and embraced it fully.
The crowd roared at his latest tale, and I couldn't help but smile. He wasn't just telling stories; he was the story, the kind of person who made legends seem real.
A sharp whistle cut through the revelry. A younger man approached, looking exasperated. "Gildarts, you're supposed to be at the guild meeting."
Gildarts grinned. "Ah, let them stew. Builds character!" The crowd laughed, clearly used to his antics.
As his guildmate dragged him away, his gaze flickered to me. Our eyes met—just for a moment—but I saw recognition, curiosity. A knowing smile played on his lips before he disappeared into the crowd.
Gildarts' POV
As he walked, Gildarts' thoughts lingered on the traveler at the edge of the crowd. Something about the way he stood—calm, watchful—set him apart. He wasn't a merchant or a hopeful adventurer. He was something else.
More than that, there was a presence around him. Not magic, not ethernano, but something deeper, something that carried weight.
"Something wrong, Gildarts?" his companion asked, pulling at his arm.
"Wrong? No." Gildarts smirked, shaking his head. "Just someone interesting back there."
His guildmate groaned. "You're always finding 'someone interesting,' and it always ends the same way—with trouble."
"Not trouble," Gildarts said, his grin widening, but his gaze sharp. "This one feels different."
—
I watched Gildarts go, my mind churning. So, that's Fairy Tail's strongest mage? He was a legend, even before I arrived in this world. But more than that, he felt real. Not some untouchable hero, but someone who lived freely, a force of nature rather than a symbol.
Fairy Tail itself... I had wondered what it would be like. The stories painted it as reckless, rowdy, but filled with heart. A guild that protected its own, that stood against the impossible with stubborn defiance.
And now, standing in its town, feeling its pulse—I knew. This was the beginning of something. Not just for me, but for the future.
For the first time in a long while, I let myself wonder—what kind of future did I want?