The late afternoon air in Magnolia was still warm from the lingering sunlight slipping through the high windows of the Fairy Tail guild hall. Tiny golden specks of dust danced in the air, mingling with the scent of fresh beer, newly roasted meat from the kitchen, and the faint smell of Wakaba's pipe smoke that always billowed like a small fog.
Laughter and cheers filled the grand hall, echoing off the stone walls adorned with the request board and the iconic fairy bird emblem. Tonight was no ordinary night. Tonight was a celebration—a celebration of the arrival of a little boy who came from the deepest darkness, carrying hope like a small, inextinguishable flame.
Ren Chicle stood in front of the bar, his small eight-year-old frame contrasting with the bustling crowd around him. His black hair, messy from the wind of a long journey, was now a bit neater, though a few strands still clung to his forehead with sweat.
His pitch-black eyes, featuring a small teardrop-like mole under his left eye, looked around with a mix of excitement and an ingrained sense of responsibility. Around his neck still hung his mother's worn scarf; its purple bird motif now felt more alive amidst the similar Fairy Tail emblems.
Makarov Dreyar, the Guild Master who was as small as a doll yet exuded a magical aura that dominated the room, stood on top of the bar holding a tattoo stamp in his small hand. The stamp gleamed beneath the lacrima light, its tip coated in the signature blue ink that would leave an eternal mark on the skin of anyone who wore it.
"Alright, boy," Makarov said, his voice raspy but full of warmth, his wise old eyes looking intently at Ren.
"This isn't just a picture. It's a bond. It's a promise that starting today, you are no longer just a survivor of the Tower of Heaven. You are part of the Fairy Tail family. Ready?"
Ren nodded firmly, his smile widening—the optimistic smile that always graced his face despite a past filled with darkness.
"Ready, Master. I've been ready since I left that tower."
Ren reached out his small hand, resting his left forearm on the bar. His skin was still pale from old Ethernano radiation, but there was a strange warmth that had always accompanied his body since birth—like a small, undying fire. The stamp touched his skin, and a slight burning sensation stung like a bee. Ren didn't flinch. He just bit his lower lip softly, his eyes remaining wide open, watching the blue ink begin to form the fairy bird emblem with its gracefully curving tail.
"Ow... a little hot," Ren muttered with a soft chuckle.
Around him, guild members began to gather. Macao Conbolt, with his messy dark blue hair, clapped loudly.
"Whoa, kid! Welcome officially! Now you've got the same mark as us—the bird that never lands!"
Wakaba Mine, puffing on his pipe with thick smoke billowing out, laughed while patting Macao's shoulder.
"Haha, look at that! Left forearm, just like tradition. Small but tough."
Ren shook his head with a smile.
"It's fine, Wakaba. This is enough. This tattoo... it's like what Nana used to say: true light doesn't come from a crystal, but from the fire that burns in the middle of a storm. I don't need anything extra."
The tattooing process was over in a flash. Makarov blew on the ink gently, and the Fairy Tail emblem was now perfectly imprinted on Ren's left forearm—bright blue, glowing faintly beneath the guild's lights. Ren lifted his arm, turned it slowly, and felt a tiny magical vibration flowing from the tattoo throughout his body. It felt like a warm hug from Nana, like the rhythm of a flute at Minstrel's Great Dance Lake, like the sea breeze from Hargeon Port. For the first time since leaving the ruins of the Tower of Heaven, Ren truly felt at home.
"YEAAAYYY!!!"
The whole guild cheered almost in unison. Tables were shoved aside, beer mugs were raised high, and music began to play from the corner of the room—one of the members singing a simple tune with a wooden guitar. The party broke out just like that, like a joyful storm. Lina—no, this was Magnolia, but Ren was reminded of Lina from Flerouge—no, here was the chef who had already started preparing food in the guild kitchen with a friendly smile. Roast meat, fresh bread, thick stew, and sweet fruit juice flowed like a river. The younger guild children, including the toddler Romeo, ran between the adults' legs, laughing.
Macao lifted Ren onto his shoulders effortlessly.
"This is a party for Ren Chicle! The kid from the Tower of Heaven who destroyed hell all by himself! Drink, eat, and tell us everything!"
Ren laughed from atop Macao's shoulders, his legs dangling comically.
"Macao, put me down first! I want to eat before I tell stories. My stomach has been protesting since I was on the ship!"
The laughter grew louder. Wakaba approached, his eyes full of curiosity behind his pipe smoke.
"Hey, hold on a second. Before the party really starts, we're super curious, Ren. You said you destroyed the Tower of Heaven using strategy and magic. But... what kind of magic do you actually have? From your stories, it sounds really heavy-duty. Are you a Dragon Slayer? Or a God Slayer? Or... something even crazier?"
Other members chimed in. A middle-aged man with a scar on his arm leaned his elbow on the bar.
"Yeah, kid. Tell us. We in Fairy Tail love cool magic. Don't tell me you just use regular fire."
Ren hopped down from Macao's shoulders with a light leap, his feet landing perfectly on the worn wooden floor. He rubbed his freshly tattooed left arm, feeling the warm throb of the ink. His smile remained, but there was a flash of responsibility in his eyes—he knew it was time to show a little bit of himself. Not to show off, but to answer his new family's curiosity.
"Alright, Wakaba, everyone," Ren said in a clear voice, his humorous tone returning. He winked at Wakaba.
"But promise me, if it's just ordinary, don't laugh too hard. I don't want to disappoint you guys."
Ren extended his right hand forward. The air around his palm suddenly shimmered faintly, like a mirage in the desert around the Tower back then. A squishy pink lump appeared out of thin air, stretching like elastic bubblegum. He pulled it slowly, and the lump stretched up to two meters, then he let go—plop—and it snapped back to his hand like a bounding rubber band. Ren shaped it into a small ball, tossed it into the air, and the ball bounced around the guild's ceiling before returning perfectly to his hand.
"This is Bungee Gum," Ren explained calmly, sounding as though he were explaining the patrol patterns of the Tower guards.
"Magic I learned from a stolen Lacrima in the tower. It's elastic, squishy, and can stretch and contract at will. It can stick to anything, and... yeah, it's like rubber. It can also be used to catch things or... deflect attacks."
He demonstrated it again. The Bungee Gum extended like a whip, gently wrapping around Wakaba's beer mug without spilling a drop, then returning it to its owner's hand. Wakaba took the mug, his eyes widening for a moment before he burst into loud laughter.
"Huh? That's it? Magic rubber? Kid, this magic is... pretty ordinary!" Wakaba stroked his chin, his pipe smoke billowing thicker. "I mean, it's cool for playing around, but... destroying the Tower of Heaven? With rubber?"
Macao joined in the laughter, slapping the table.
"Yeah, Ren! We thought you had hellfire or lightning or something explosive like Laxus. This... this is like a little kid's magic at a night market!"
Other members chimed in, their voices a mix of amusement and awe. A young woman with short hair shook her head with a smile.
"It's cute, but... really basic. Are you sure this is what got you out of that hell?"
Ren just smiled broadly, not offended in the slightest. His eyes flashed with cold confidence—just like when he calculated the guards' footsteps back then.
"Yeah. Just ordinary. But sometimes, the ordinary things are the most dangerous when used right. This Bungee Gum... I can turn it into anything. Elastic to catch, squishy to absorb punches, and... if I get mad, it can be more than that."
The laughter still echoed, but in the corner of the room, Makarov, sitting in his high chair, narrowed his eyes. He observed Ren with a deeper look—not the amused gaze of the others, but a look full of sharp curiosity. This boy... eight years old, but his eyes were like someone who had already calculated thousands of possibilities.
He destroyed the Tower of Heaven—a place full of Ethernano radiation and the Cult of Zeref—with "rubber" magic? Impossible. There was something much deeper behind that Bungee Gum. Makarov could feel the vibration of Ren's magic—not raw power, but a cold precision, like a strategy built up over years in the dark.
Makarov hopped down from his chair with a small jump, his orange cloak swaying. He approached Ren, his small hand gently patting the boy's shoulder.
"Ren... your magic does look simple. But I'm curious. How could a boy your age, with 'ordinary' magic like this, destroy a tower built over decades by slaves and black magic? You said strategy... but I want to see it for myself. How about a little test?"
The room fell silent for a moment. The laughter died down, replaced by curious whispers. Ren looked at Makarov, his eyes showing no fear—instead, there was a small spark of challenge, mixed with responsibility.
"A test, Master? Here?"
Makarov smiled slyly, his eyes twinkling.
"Not here. Out behind the guild. There's a training ground that's spacious enough. And... Laxus! Come here, boy!"
From the second-floor stairs, a ten-year-old boy descended with an arrogant stride. His blonde hair stood up like lightning, his brown eyes sharp and brimming with overconfidence. Laxus Dreyar, Makarov's grandson, was already famous in the guild as a prodigy whose lightning magic was beginning to turn explosive. He looked Ren up and down, his lips curving into a thin smirk.
"This is the new kid? The one with the story about destroying the Tower? Hmph. Looks completely ordinary."
Ren stared back at Laxus, his smile unfading despite a small spark igniting in his chest—not anger, but a newly born competitive spirit.
"Laxus... two years older, huh? Nice to meet you. I'm Ren."
Makarov raised his hand, his voice firm yet full of excitement.
"Enough talk. Both of you, behind the guild. It's not a fight to the death—just a test. Ren, show Laxus and the rest of us what 'ordinary' can do. Laxus, don't be too rough. But... show him why you're a future S-Class candidate."
The guild hall erupted in cheers again, wilder this time.
"A fight! A fight! The new kid vs. little Laxus!" Macao yelled, raising his mug. Wakaba blew his pipe smoke hard.
"This is gonna be good! Rubber vs. lightning!"