"I will teach you everything I know. Under my direct guidance, you will inevitably become one of the strongest wizards of your entire generation."
"Y-Yeah…"
I remember when Metalicana first said that to me. I think that was the exact moment everything started. That was when I actually began to care about getting strong. Before him, I was just an unwanted brat.
My parents—the people whose faces I can't even remember—threw me away like garbage when I was a toddler. Because of those bastards, I grew up an orphan. If I'm being completely honest, I hated them for it.
Hell, why wouldn't I? I had no clue what having a mom or a dad actually felt like. The warmth, the love of a parent—I didn't know a damn thing about it.
But I guess I shouldn't trash-talk 'em too much. If they hadn't dumped me, I never would've met Metalicana in the first place.
Metalicana was the Iron Dragon. What are dragons? To my knowledge, they're the strongest creatures to ever live. The undisputed apex of the world. Monsters that could wipe out humanity without breaking a sweat.
It pisses me off that people treat 'em like nothing more than bedtime stories now.
Sometimes I wonder if there are other Dragon Slayers out there. Maybe their dragons vanished into thin air, too.
Dragon Slayers are mages who use Dragon Slayer Magic—an ancient Lost Magic. Most of us were raised and taught by actual dragons. Guess spending enough time around a giant, metal-scaled beast changes a person. Our senses are way sharper than normal people's. Better hearing, better eyesight, better smell. Trying to sneak up on us is a total pain in the ass.
I even started picking up a few draconic traits myself—slitted pupils, sharper teeth, stuff like that. At the end of the day, Dragon Slayers are just people who inherited the power of dragons, and that power rewires you from the inside out.
Metalicana found me when I was completely alone. I was weak, pathetic, and desperately clinging to life in the dirt. But even though I was a useless brat, he took me in and raised me like a son. He took an unwanted piece of trash and made him strong.
It's because of him that I am who I am today. I'll be grateful to that old lizard forever, even if I don't show it. He taught me everything—from reading and writing to fighting and magic. The only reason I can even hold my own right now is because I had a monstrously powerful master. To this day, I've never met anyone else who could obliterate a mountain with a single breath.
He gave me a bond. He gave me a home. He taught me what it actually meant to be human, and what it felt like to have a father. That's why I started calling him Dad. Because that's exactly what he was to me.
"I love you, kid."
So imagine how I felt when he just randomly disappeared one day. No explanation, no goodbye, nothing. It was like he never even existed.
I think that's why I snapped. I remember screaming at the empty forest, losing my mind.
"You're just like them… You're just like my damn parents! Who the hell do you think you are? Training me, making me strong, just to throw me away like trash?!"
Back then, I wasn't just sad. I was furious. I felt sick to my stomach.
"You don't get to act friendly with me! Go find some other kid to teach! I don't give a damn anymore!"
...But I didn't mean a single word of it. I was just hurting.
"…Fine. If nobody else is gonna be there for me, then I'll just fight for myself."
I decided to live purely for myself. It was the only way I could force my legs to keep moving forward. I vowed to live a life without a single regret. To do whatever the hell I wanted, whenever I wanted, and to hate whoever I pleased. Why should I blame myself for being abandoned? It was a lot easier to just blame everyone else.
"The only thing wrong… is this messed-up world."
And then, the day came. The day I met Master José.
Living purely for myself got old after a while. I needed a purpose. Something more than just surviving. I wanted something to prove I actually mattered—or at the very least, something to define my damn value. That was when Master José found me. I still remember the look on his face when he gave his speech:
"I want it all. I will create a Guild whose foundation is not built upon childish ideals like friendship or unity, but dominance. A place where the strong devour the strong to prove they deserve to stand at the top. And the weak? The weak will have only two choices. Climb… or be crushed beneath those who did."
Joining Phantom Lord, a guild packed with literal monsters? Sounded like a hell of a good time. I didn't have some grand, noble reason for wanting to get stronger back then. I just fought for the sheer entertainment of it. That was half the reason I took the bastard up on his offer. It was a place of convenience.
But if I'm being real, there was another reason. An uglier one.
It was the humiliation. The absolute disgrace of having my will completely broken by the man's magical aura alone. It made me feel weak. For the first time in my life, I felt real, suffocating fear. I hated it.
So, I joined. A place where your strength defines your worth sounded exactly like my type of paradise. I constantly got into fights, throwing my fists around just to prove I could. With no parents around, I had nobody looking out for me anyway.
But throughout all that time, I never stopped looking for Metalicana. I even talked to José about it, telling him straight up that my goal was to find my dragon father. I was hoping the old bastard might know something. That was how he found out I was a Dragon Slayer.
He didn't believe in 'em either. To him, and to everyone else in this day and age, dragons were nothing more than characters in a fantasy book. Bedtime stories. It didn't make any damn sense to me. How could a race that powerful just be completely erased from the world? It was like they all simply ceased to exist.
The lack of answers only made my search for Dad even more desperate.
Then came today. July 1st, X778. It was almost a full year since Metalicana disappeared on July 7th, X777. My day started off normal enough—just brawling with the nameless mages in the guildhall to kill time. But right in the middle of the chaos, I caught a scent.
An off-scent. It's hard to explain what the hell it smelled like, but it was incredibly strong, completely overpowering the stench of sweat and cheap booze in the hall. It didn't smell like any ordinary wizard.
That's when I met him.
The first things I noticed were his eyes. They were a strange, pretty fuchsia color I'd never seen before.
"My name is Albion Ebonveil," the brat said, cool as you like. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. As for what I am… I would say I am an average five-year-old child."
When we fought, I overwhelmed him easily. The kid was weak. Not weak in the sense that he lacked skill—he definitely knew how to move and handle himself—but compared to my training with Dad, and compared to the other psychos in Phantom Lord, Albion was a total weakling. It wasn't an exaggeration to say he was the weakest person in the room.
But then, the idiot did something that threw me off completely.
Bleeding from his head and struggling to even keep his feet, this kid—who was younger than me, smaller than me, and weaker than me—held out his hand. He looked like he could barely breathe, let alone speak.
And yet, he reached out for me. Like I was some fragile kid who needed saving. It ticked me off. Why the hell would I need help? I was the strong one.
"Maybe that's what we all do in the end," he murmured. "We only reach out with our hands when we want to hurt someone… because we completely forgot how to use them to hold someone instead."
In a guild like this, a person's value is defined entirely by what they can break. Yet here this kid was, holding out a hand, looking like he genuinely wanted to form a bond.
Heh. I think that was the real reason I dragged him to the library. I wanted to find out why. Why the hell did he do that? I told myself I was just curious why a random kid reminded me so much of Metalicana. But in truth, I was just desperate for anything that could give me an answer.
Come to find out, the idiot didn't even know the basics of magic. Can you believe that? Who the hell joins a wizard guild—one of the strongest damn guilds in the country—and doesn't even know how to use magic? It was just stupid.
But then he told me his mother had sold him to the guild. And get this... he didn't even hate her for it. Instead, he just sat there, wondering if his own life had any intrinsic value at all.
"But even so, I refuse to believe she truly hated me. At least… that is the narrative I choose to believe. So I suppose… I simply wanted to acquire enough knowledge to know if it is truly permissible for a person like me to continue living."
Listening to him talk was like staring directly at my past self. From what he said, Albion's mother—whoever the hell she was—didn't love him. I can't say for certain, but the way he talked made it sound like he'd never even experienced a real childhood.
Having a parent who gives you love and warmth. Laughing and eating with someone you trust. Having a real bond with a person. To me, that's what a happy childhood actually means. Seeing Albion like that just reminded me of who I was before I met Metalicana.
And then the kid had to go and say he envied me.
"I envy you, Gajeel. You were born with a definitive power that pointed you forward. A legacy. I think… I was merely lucky to be born alive at all."
Envy me? An unwanted piece of garbage? Someone whose own father didn't want him around and just vanished into thin air? It was a mix of everything hitting me at once that made my fist fly. I snapped. I drove my knuckles into his face, and even now, I don't regret it.
"Live for yourself," I told him. "Your own pleasures. Your own hates. That's the only thing that's real in this world. And if you can't live like that? Then you're no wizard at all. Blame your own pathetic pride for keeping you weak."
That's why I came back to the guildhall. I knew the kid would end up here eventually, and I wanted to apologize to him. I'm still not completely sure what I was planning to say, but… it just felt like something I had to do. It's hard to explain.
"Have you ever heard of the Ebonveil Clan?"
I still don't get why Juvia was so obsessed with that Ebonveil clan. I'm curious, sure, but it's not my place to stick my nose into it. Still, I can't help but wonder what the hell Albion has to do with 'em. Was he born into that clan? If he was, why throw him away to a bloodthirsty guild like Phantom Lord? I don't know a damn thing about them.
"I am going to protect him because he and I are guildmates!" I remember yelling at Juvia right in the middle of our fight. "I will protect him no matter what, because he is the only human who has ever held out his hand to me in pure kindness! That's why I know... the reason I fight isn't a mistake!"
Those words still echo in my head.
Albion… What the hell is he to me? Is he a friend? Nah. We aren't that close. Hell, the last time we talked, we ended up punching each other in the face. Are we just guildmates? Is he even officially part of this guild when he doesn't even have a drop of magic?
I don't know what we are. But I want to find out. I want to forge a genuine bond with him. Maybe that's the real reason I wanted to apologize.
When I saw Juvia with that woman—Sheila, I think her name was—I felt this strange, heavy weight in my chest. And right on cue, Metalicana came barging back into my thoughts.
At first, I thought that tightness in my chest was a weakness. But I was wrong. At that moment, I was just jealous of Juvia. Because unlike me and Albion, she actually had someone.
Maybe that's what I want to be. A guardian. Someone to protect Albion. Part of me wants to build a real bond with the brat, but I'm pretty sure he hates my guts. Can't say I blame him. Still… I wonder what he thinks of me. I wish I could read the kid's damn mind.
"You can't kill me! Do you hear me?! You CAN'T!"
...Oh. Right.
I lost to Damian. I was completely humiliated.
If my strength defines my value, what the hell am I without it? Maybe that's why Metalicana left. Maybe… he just didn't want a weak son.
"Show everyone exactly why you are better!"
Dad… Metalicana… I failed you. I'm sorry. I'm so damn sorry.
"I love you, kid."
I'm sorry.
"I love you, kid."
Are you angry at me?
"I love you, kid."
Are you disappointed in me?
The words repeated in my head. Again. And again. And again. Until they stopped sounding like words at all.
"Iluvyouki—"
"Loveyouki—"
"@#$##..."
"#@!$...kid…"
The sound of Metalicana's voice warped and twisted inside the dark, quiet space of my mind, dissolving into meaningless noise.
I have to face it. I lost.
My strength was the only damn thing I had. The only thing that made me mean anything. And now? It's gone. Destroyed. If my value was tied to being strong, what the hell am I without it? Just a worthless brat.
All I can hear is the guildhall laughing. Mocking me.
I guess this is my fate. That's what you get for being an unwanted piece of trash.
Metalicana…
I failed you.