Serena did not vanish the moment he became a dragon slayer. Whatever force of nature had taken the rest of the dragons did not come knocking, at least not while Acnologia stood watch. That old fear, however, was not the biggest of his problems. It wasn't even a day before the Council tried to push Acnologia out the door, oh-so kindly. He was assaulted with "thank you's" and gratitudes but was offered no invitations to hang around. They'd have to do a little better than suffocating pleasantries to chase the Dragon King away: Them and their hungered ambitions.

He stayed around the recovering Serena like a shade of death, his hand occasionally hovering over the boy, a magic circle splaying out to observe any and all changes regarding the eight lacrimas he now housed. Nurses tried to dismiss him and doctors wanted to have him removed, but he stayed all the same. After he caught the first explosion of Serena's volatile purgatory magic with his bare hands, the nurses quieted and suffered through the oppressive shadow in the corner of the recovery chamber.

To Acnologia's amazement and the researcher's pleasure, there weren't any further complications in Serena's complications. A total success, even considering the occasional explosion of wild magic. 

The boy stayed unconscious, his body slowly recovering from such a terrible invasion of magic power. There were times when his heart would skip a beat or his lungs would seize, but the spark dragon slaying magic always jolted him back in time while the gale dragon slayer magic kept his lungs moving. It was almost incredible how quickly the boy recovered - how well his body worked towards incorporating what should've killed him. The magics were desperately trying to keep their new shared host alive.

But, the clearer it became that the new dragon slayer's recovery was imminent, the harder the council pushed.

"We do appreciate all of your help in this experiment." It was polite, but the tone started to shift every time it was said. It no longer sounded grateful. It sounded like necessary pleasantries; a final mask of civility if you will.

Acnologia sat in a rather uncomfortable chair beside the boy's hospital bed, his nose twitching at the scent of eight dragons melding together. It was a smell somewhere between ozone and magma; new, strange - but oh so incredibly draconic. He glanced at the new purple frog who was acting as his council liaison. The last frog hadn't been seen since his small hiss of wrath back when he'd first met Serena.

This one held herself a bit taller, adjusting the glass on her face as she stared at him, expectantly.

"I am not leaving, if that is what they are asking me to do," Acnologia answered simply.

"You... don't have to stay any longer."

"I'm aware," Acnologia shrugged, his voice dropping as he looked back to Serena. Slowly, almost calculatingly, he settled with his elbows on his knees and stared intently, dissecting all he sensed and saw.

A dragon slayer. An actual dragon slayer. Nearly three and a half centuries had passed on this earth with Acnologia being its sole slayer, and now another sat before him - a mere child. He knew what he had to do - what all would demand him to do. Anna, Igneel, Skiadrum, Grandeeney, Weisslogia, hell even Metalicana - they'd all say the same thing...

"He is not your responsibility," a councilman juxtaposed an hour later. He stood there in a crisp outfit, smelling of self-important cologne and parchment, but he shrunk under Acnologia's glare all the same.

"I am the Dragon King. That's why you summoned me," Acnologia reminded him dangerously.

"We called on you for your expertise - you're prowess and experience regarding such forms of magic. You have been reimbursed for your time," the man reasoned coldly. Always, it always came back to the contracts and the money.

Acnologia felt a rumble in his throat as much deeper concerns lined his thoughts.

"I am the Dragon King," he repeated, standing slowly so he could face his plausible foe. "It has been three hundred years since I've faced one of my kind. I am not going anywhere."

The man opened his mouth to say something else, but he stopped. Acnologia would never know why, though he'd chalk it up to his intimidating nature or boundless magic power that sharpened the air like a dragon's roar. Either way, the man cleared his throat glancing between beast and boy, before leaving Acnologia to his peaceful vigil.

Serena woke up the next day, tired and perhaps surprised as the first thing he laid eyes on was a head of wild blue hair and a toothed smirk.

"Morning child," Acnologia greeted gently, standing over the boy as he had been the moment he'd sensed the new dragon slayer stir.

"Mornin'," Serena slurred, wincing as the light assaulted his likely sensitive eyes. He tried to sit up, each movement slow, yet full of flinches. "Holy - why thefuc ds i'all hurrrt?"

"Your senses are going to be extremely heightened," Acnologia warned, his voice rustling like the boy's soft bedsheets. "Your draconic traits come with your magic - suddenly, and cruelly."

Serena moaned, rolling over to hide his face in the pillow as he pulled the medical blanket over his entire form.

"S' so bright..."

"Yes - loud, bright, rough, and it all tastes terrible," Acnologia sympathized, sticking his tongue out to remember the first time he recalled tasting the world - especially here where the magic tasted burnt and acrid.

"Did it - euugh, did it hurt furrr you?" the boy's voice started to spark back to life.

"Yes. Though mine was more gradual - it improved as my magic did, no lacrimas involved. Your body is forced to assimilate ridiculously quick; it will be painful... for a while."

"Fuuuuuuuuu-" Serena's groan tampered out as a bustle outside his room caught Acnologia's attention. A nurse was scrambling for the room, his monitoring lacrimas flashing to tell everyone of the boy's alertness. The elder dragon slayer strode across the room and opened the door before the intruder and his posse of three others could disturb the peace. The nurse squeaked, jumping away from the open door as Acnologia towered over him.

"He is awake and very sensitive to sound. Do not make a commotion," Acnologia warned. The nurse shook his head viciously before slinking around the Dragon King, the other three following suit.

They checked vitals, asked questions, and made far more noise than was necessary. Serena wasn't quite as receptive as they would've wanted. The poor kid groaned out answers from under his blanket and hissed in pain whenever someone's shoe squeaked against the tile or a gloved hand brushed against him.

Acnologia paced, watching carefully as thoughts slammed around in his head. 

A dragon slayer... a dragon slayer...

He did not regret participating in the operation; Heavens knew the Council likely would've just proceeded blind and it could have gone much worse for Serena. But, the more he thought about it, the more it prickled against his skin. They poked and prodded. They surveyed and marked. They had their graphs, their charts, and their paperwork. This was an experimental success - to make a mage of extreme strength from long-dead magic.

A dragon slayer of the Council...

"I am going to have to ask you to leave." The next councilman was braver, far more abrupt and upfront than the last had been. He at least had the intelligence, and the decency, to arrive after Serena fell back asleep.

Acnologia stayed silent from where he stood, his hands crossed as he watched Serena rest, a small puff of smoke escaping past the kid's lips with every deep snore - his purgatory magic acting up again, no doubt. It seemed to be the most prone to fits of wild magic.

"I understand this may be... complicated, for you," the mage attempted to soothe.

"I am not going anywhere." There was no room for argument - it was fact.

"You have no say." Somehow, the audacity of the Magic Council always found a way to argue. Acnologia turned his head slowly to glare the mage down.

"Excuse you?" Acnologia growled.

"You have no legal claim to the child, nor was your contract for anything beyond the operation. You were hired for your expertise, not your title -"

"You should have considered that before summoning me."

"Your title" - the mage continued forcefully - "has no power."

Acnologia was not stunned into silence, more so horrifyingly impressed that a mortal overstepped so confidently when it would only take half a second to kill him.

"Perhaps you were once King of the Dragons, but the dragons are gone, and as such that title holds no legal weight. You have no jurisdiction over the Hybrid Theory any longer -"

"His name is Serena," Acnologia growled. "Is it easier to title your soldiers than remember names, councilman?"

"He is not a soldier."

"Then what is he?" Acnologia challenged, stepping closer as a hiss spilled through his teeth. 

They stared at each other for a long moment, the Dragon King's gaze piercing through the dimmer lights Serena slept under. The mortal eventually broke away, studying boy instead of facing the dreaded Dragon of the Apocalypse.

"Come on, mortal," Acnologia taunted in a whisper. "I am no fool. I know what a contingency plan looks like."

The mage glanced back at him warily: "You know nothing."

"I know I could level this continent with a thought," Acnologia supposed nonchalantly, turning away with a dangerous grin. "And I know that frightens people like you."

"People like me?" the mage glowered.

"If I only listen to you because it suits me. It's in your best interest to build something to put me in line," Acnologia glanced at Serena for a long moment, his gaze solemn.

"Why would we invite you to participate -" the mage began to laugh incredulously.

"Why wouldn't you? Like you said, you needed my expertise, and, for now, listening to you suits me."

"For now?" the councilman echoed warily, his magic pulsing at the unsaid threat. Acnoloia's presence drowned out his pathetic attempt at intimidation. He took a step closer and leaned in, baring his teeth.

"Yes. For now."

"Are you threatening me?" 

"I am promising you," Acnologia murmured lowly. "Because no matter how hard you train that child, he will never hold a candle to me. I could kill him in less than a second. Just as I could you."

The mage's eyes narrowed, brows piercing in confusion as he took a step back.

"Like it or not, I am unbeatable. Inevitable. Like it or not, that boy is a dragon slayer now," Acnologia growled, raising his chin. "Which means I am his King."

"We are his guardians. We own those lacrimas under his skin," the mortal did not quiver yet, instead he found some semblance of footing, and that brought a snarl to Acnologia's fangs.

The words summoned scales to the slayer's skin, trying to push past his pores and mortal restraints as a growl grew from his chest to his teeth. 

Own!?

The mortal took another soft step backward, sensing the momentary snap in self-control.

"Tell me, human, what is an owner to a king?" Acnologia taunted darkly.

"What is a dark mage to a continent?" The councilman raised his own head and Acnologia's pupils thinned, even slimmer than they had been before. "Because, Acnologia," the mage continued; "your actions reflect that of your guild."

Acnologia snapped his teeth. "Dark mage? You think disbanding my guild will save your skin?"

"I think you're far more sentimental than you pretend to be."

They stood there, the two of them, staring each other down as Acnologia was held back by nothing other than thought and principle. Clearly, the mage took his silence as his submission - a mistake. He walked up to Serena's bedside, raising a hand to place it on the rails of the medical bed as he looked back to the Dragon King.

"You value your guild, and you value your pride. Leave here before you lose both."

"I care for my domain," Acnologia warned. "He will need instruction -"

"He will be trained, by the best the Council has," the mage assured him.

"By what; a human?"

"Dragon slaying was taught by humans -"

"No, it was taught by dragon slayers, who were taught by dragons," Acnologia hissed, walking up swiftly. "We are not human any longer. He can never go back to what he was - never. Do you know what that does to some slayers?"

He spoke softly, rage dripping past every word. He'd seen it all - watched it all, nearly fallen into those pitfalls, and falling furthest into the worst of them all in his first life.

He couldn't leave a child to that - he couldn't. 

"We appreciate your concern," the mage retorted coldly. "But you will leave now."

"I will not -"

"You will leave, or you will be held in contempt and criminalized. Your guild will be sent to remove you and if they cannot, then you will all be held in contempt."

Their eyes met again and for the first time in centuries, Acnologia found himself tempted towards destruction... and perhaps a massacre. Oh to tear it all down in a moment, even transforming in that room would spell untold casualties. 

To roar? To flap his mighty wings and tear mortar from stone, bone from flesh? To level it to the ground and leave unbothered, shrugging the deaths off his shoulders as he did what was right and what he was meant to do?

He could've...

Oh, he could've...

────── {⋆❉⋆} ──────

It was by the grace of Mavis herself that the council stayed intact and Acnologia's hands remained clean. That did not mean, however, that the Dragon King had relented, or that the infrastructure of the building did not crack and groan under his rage.

He feared that the moment Serena left his sight, he would vanish just as all the other dragons had but his choices were limited and honestly, he wasn't a good person. If the child vanished then that proved whatever took out the dragons was still around. If he stayed put, Acnologia could fix that.

He strode out of the council, every soul in his path jumping out of the way as his pressure grew suffocatingly rialed. His glower petrified and the murmurs and mumbles grew to see him with such a dangerous gaze and terrible presence. His arrival in Magnolia was no gentler. Townsfolk and guild members alike scrambled out of his way, frightened by the unfamiliar torrent of rage crashing at his heels. The dragon king shoved the doors of the guild open so quickly they bounced against the walls like wooden cymbals, his stride unwavering until he reached where the master sat on the bar,

"Welcome back. It went poorly, I assume," Makarov supposed, unfazed by the waves of darkness that poured off Acnologia's soul. The dragon slayer's eyes were gleaming with fury and his hands were balled into fists. There was a constant growl in his chest that could've been mistaken for a distant dragon roar.

"I need... an alternative to murder," Acnologia hissed dangerously. "Before I criminalize this entire guild and wipe all of Ishgar off the map."

"Ah... well then... that bad? I don't think I've ever seen you in a fouler mood."

"Do not test me, Makarov. Foul does not begin to describe my mood."

"Alright then, let's see what we can fix!" the master chirped with a hint of force and cheer, far too confident with Acnologia's better nature.

────── {⋆❉⋆} ──────

They ended up calling Yajima over, whom Acnologia could've throttled. He'd seethed against seeing anyone from the council, but Makarov insisted, and arguing only worsened the roaring demand for violence dancing in a primal desire across his mental space. The magic council mage was allowed to the second floor of the guild, a usual break in the tradition as Yajima was neither S-class nor a member, but this was important.

"I see this went as well as I expected," the older man supposed as he looked over the table of legal documents Makarov was sorting through as he sat beside one, very displeased, Dragon King.

"You better not have had a hand in this," Acnologia warned, his glare a deadly show of annoyance.

"I may have encouraged them to reach out to you for help with the project," Yajima answered warily. "I figured it would be worse for them if you were caught by surprise."

"A good choice."

"But I heavily warned them against chasing you off. I also vouched for your involvement in his training... I was overruled."

"You will be spared then, if this doesn't work," Acnologia supposed, looking back to the legal documents before him with a burning gaze.

"S...Spared? You can't make such threats lightly -" 

"Oh don't mind him, he's just grumpy," Makarov dismissed as he skimmed through another page of the contract.

"Grumpy!?" Acnologia seethed, the table splintering as he gripped it. "I have slain thousands with infinitely more strength than those fools possess, and this mortal dares to stand in my presence and threaten me -"

"He is... justifiably, very grumpy," Makarov tacked on.

"I nearly eviscerated that bastard... I could've ended his existence and his memory with a breath -"

"Well... thank you for restraining yourself," Yajima smiled weakly, pulling up a chair and looking over the dissected contract before them.  "Now what do we have to work with?"

────── {⋆❉⋆} ──────

It was a week later when Acnologia returned to the Magic Council's doorstep, Makarov accompanying him at his request. Serena hadn't disappeared yet and so Acnologia set about to fixing his problems.

"You need to speak when they get cocky - because I am this close to committing a massacre." The small space between the Dragon King's fingers had been enough to convince the Guild Master to come along and prevent said murder.

"Acnologia," the head member greeted. Crawford Seam, Acnologia now knew, was his name.

He was not the chairman, not yet. He was, however, the right hand to Gran Doma. And that chairman apparently was as friendly to Fairy Tail as bills were to Makarov.

"Councilman," Acnologia greeted through gritted teeth.

"What brings you back so soon?" Seam smiled, too wide and too testy. Acnologia's skin rippled as he took in a deep breath, pure mana streaming out of him as he exhaled, glittering a pale blue.

"I'm here about Serena."

"Ah... this again. You're going to have to get used to not getting what you want."

The BʟOᴏD BᴀИᴇ! oh, he would turn the man inside out and SHOW HIM HIS ORGANS -

"We have found an oversight in Acnologia's original contract and his involvement in the Hybrid Theory that we would like to discuss in a more private setting," Makarov interjected before Acnologia could reduce a mortal to a bloodstain.

"Oh no, please, my office is a mess. Let's just discuss it here," Seam grinned.

"Very well," Makarov supposed reluctantly, shuffling the papers he held in hand.

A few other members were taking to the halls, other council employees slowing their wanderings to overhear.

"So - what's this loophole you've tried to exploit?" Seam snickered.

"You see, we - " Makarov began politely, silencing when Acnologia's growl drowned him out.

"You signed me on to a project with no definitive timeline. The contract mandated I was to help with the imbuement of lacrima until such time the subject was deemed fit," Acnologia recited darkly, word for word, line for line.

He'd fucking memorized it.

"Yes... and the subject is deemed fit," Seam supposed.

"By who?" Acnologia demanded.

The councilman rolled his eyes and scoffed. "By doctors and nurses and our specialists -"

"But not by the boy's guardian," Makarov interjected.

To that, Seam did quiet, his gaze narrowing.

"We have full custody over the boy: his parents signed away -"

"But his new guardian did not," Makarov insisted, cutting off Seam as he pulled out a slip of parchment and handed it to the Head of the Council.

"His... new..." Seam's muttered tampered off, that smile finally fading as he snatched the piece of paper.

"By Draconic Law," Acnologia announced darkly. "Any hatchling, fledgling, drake, dragon, wyvern, or wyrm not claimed by a nest is free to be brought into any nest and adopt the blood traditions and ties of its new stewardship, under the expectation that any old heirdom and lineage is disregarded and annulled."

"Dr- draconic law?" Seam stammered boisterously. "Please, that's not even a legally plausible argument -"

"Actually," Makarov interrupted all too happily. "It is. For you see it is in the Magic Council's ordinance: Page 2, section VI, that all legal systems of Ishgar are to be upheld barring contradictory implements."

"What?" Seam snapped.

"Draconic Law had been written and studied throughout Ishgar," Acnologia explained, not yet smug.  "It has been accepted as a standing legal system for a species and is often mistaken as a 'dead system'. As its king, I continue to enforce it, and as Serena is now subject to its laws, that makes two living components; an enforcer and a subject of the law - meaning it is a living legal system."

"This is ridiculous!"

"Draconic guardianship does not contradict Fiore custody laws nor any other child custody law in all of Ishgar," Acnologia answered simply. "The boy is a dragon slayer and therefore, based on his age, growth, maturity, and magic, would be considered a fledgling under draconic law. He has no nest as the Council took temporary guardianship over him as a subject, not a child."

"Well - well... we fully intend to - to inherit full custody now - now - well, now that he's -" Seam stammered quickly.

"What you intend contradicts Draconic law," Makarov supplied. "Acnologia has taken the boy into his care, before the council, and as such is now his guardian."

"You can't be serious!" Seam cried. "We own the lacrima!"

"That is true..." Makarov relented regretfully. "And... as your laws regarding magic items are..."

"Possessive and abysmal," Acnologia managed through gritted teeth.

"Demanding," Makarov corrected quickly. "We've worked out a dual-custody system and contract for the guardianship of the Hybrid Experiment; Serena."

No, Yajima and Makarov had worked out a dual-custody system. Acnologia was still considering destroying the council brick by brick. They couldn't exactly criminalize him if they didn't exist. But the king could, and all the other countries could, and there was this international criminal law aspect -

It was all a headache, but this moment of smug victory was making up for it, slightly.

The Guild master handed the councilman the rest of the papers with a grin far too wide to be anything but smug. At least someone was enjoying themselves. Seam stuttered for a bit as he struggled to hold all the papers, his eyes wide and his cheeks growing a deliciously flustered red.

"You - you - you can't do this!" Seam huffed.

"No?" Acnologia taunted darkly. "I had alternative solutions."

"If you would like to step into your office, we can discuss the semantics of custody there," Makarov beamed, and, unsurprisingly, they were all ushered away from prying eyes and eavesdropping ears that had just witnessed the greatest legal loophole feat since the damn trade wars.

────── {⋆❉⋆} ──────

"The Dragon King, the immortal Dragon of the Apocalypse, also a master lawyer," Serena's scoff was weak, but it did bring a grin to Acnologia's face.

The sun was shining on the open field they'd come to, pleasant and welcoming on Acnologia's skin. The breeze was soft and the grass was pleasant as he sat and bathed it all in. The verdant freedom around them reeked with potential, magic, and life.

"I will admit, it was not my doing," he chuckled after a moment, relishing the fresh air and the magic particles within it.

"Well, Mr. Not-My-Doing. You just got saddled with me two years... by choice?" Serena supposed. "You must be a masochist or something."

The boy had recovered quickly since Acnologia had last seen him. He walked tall and without pain, he wore darkened glasses to help with the sunlight and dampened his sense of touch with long sleeves and gloves. He sat under a thick hood, his eyes averted from the harsh rays of the sun as his body shivered through cold and warm phases alike.

It wasn't perfect, but it was better than the Dragon King had expected. The boy could've been bedridden for months - hell, he should've been dead.

"They agreed on giving me two years to train you privately, and then three years in their custody with holidays and weekends free seeing as technically they have your custody under an 'employment' position," Acnologia elaborated carefully.

The streets of Magnolia were not conducive to a young dragon slayer, especially one subject to such overwhelming changes, and so they had instead gone northward, to a more secluded part of Fiore - if Acnologia had his way they'd be out of Ishgar within the week.

"I hate legal stuff," Serena sniffed laying his cheek on his folded knees as he stared out over the rolling hills.

"You hate legal stuff - child, I will be setting the next contract I see on fire," Acnologia scoffed. The boy snickered at that, his lungs seizing for a moment, but he caught his breath quickly with a wheeze and a curse.

"Alright, Mr. Dragon King. Now that you've got me... what - what the fuck are we going to do?"

"We -" Acnologia answered with a dangerous joy - "are going to teach you how to be a dragon slayer."

────── {⋆❉⋆} ──────

The first thing he did was take the boy away from Ishgar; away from all the prying eyes and power of the Council. Technically that went against some custody laws in the countries of Joya and Caelum, but just because the Magic Council respected all Ishgar laws didn't mean they could enforce them - and Fiore's law would back him up well enough. Or so Makarov had promised and that had been enough for the dragon. Again, the next contract he saw was going to be disintegrated.

And so help him gods if he had to go to court!

Next, he let the boy recover. He brought him to windy steppes so he could feel the gale growing within him. They slept in caverns and called to echoes. They wandered beaches and stood in lightning storms. There wasn't much Acnologia could do regarding the boy's purgatory draconic lineages, but he figured the volcanic flows of the west were the next best step.

"I thought you said we were training," Serena called him out one day, as they sat on old flows of obsidian and basked in the warm sun.

"We are," Acnologia smiled sleepily. God he loved being half-reptilian in the sun. Dragons weren't actually cold-blooded but it just felt so damn good -

"We're sightseeing," the boy scoffed, sitting up. He'd started speaking a bit louder, the overwhelming stimulation fading in time - or perhaps the body was slowly assimilating to it all. He still brought his hood and gloves, but his hands no longer shook and he wouldn't wake up choking on air, or worse.

"I suppose, if you want to call it that."

"You said we would train."

"We are." He cracked open an eye and saw the young slayer scowling at him. The old King sighed heavily, settling back into the obsidian under that brilliant blue sky.

The volcano had been dormant for years now, and while the cooled lava flows remained, greenery had sprouted from its ashen landscape, slowly reclaiming the skeletons of trees and the darkened rocks.

"But when do I learn the cool stuff? Aren't I supposed to learn how to roar or - or how to fly or -"

"Serena," Acnologia asked simply; "do you know what dragons are?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"Do you know what dragons are?" the King repeated patiently.

"Yeah. They're big lizards, with sharp teeth and stupid strong magic."

Acnologia let out a long sigh of disappointment. He should have expected as much.

The boy cocked his head and Acnologia opened his eyes, slowly. The world spread out before him, an endless bounty of mana and magic. It danced in the air and gleamed with the clouds, humming from the earth itself.

"Dragons are said to have been created when the world was," Acnologia divulged soberly. "Fire dragons erupted from the first volcano, sea dragons crashed with the first waves, dark and light came with the sun's first rise and first setting, so on and so forth..."

Gods it had been so long since he'd heard the mythos... Serena listened with intense fascination, leaning into every word, his breaths so gentle the Dragon King could barely hear them. His gentle eagerness contrasted sharply with the prickling of the Dragon King's spine.

Acnologia's arms were burning with old memories, his tattoos tingling painfully as he was reminded of times long past. He knew these stories. They'd been etched into his very existence. Still, he brushed his fingers against the stone beneath him and breathed.

"Dragons are fundamental to the world we live in; physical representations of the natural forces we fear and respect. They were not just beasts - they were natural disasters, everyday reckonings..."

"Why'd they all die out then?" It was an innocent question, urged on by curiosity, not cruelty, but it stung all the same.

"The Dragon Wars pitted those natural disasters against each other. It was a culling of the species like no other... and the rest? They just... vanished..."

"Vanished? No way. Why?"

Acnologia glanced at the dragon slayer and found his disbelief somewhat rejuvenating. There was hope to be found in such a distraught moment. He brushed aside that line of questioning for now with a fanged smirk.

"You are now a dragon slayer," the King explained, sitting up to better stare. "You are now the human embodiment of a dragon and dragons are a force of nature. Therefore, if you wish to be a true dragon slayer, you must recognize your elements."

"My... elements?"

"Fire does not just burn. Lightning does more than strike. Each of your draconic gifts has endless uses and capabilities, but you must learn to juggle eight instead of mastering one. We cannot begin to train your body until we train your brain, spirit, and magic." He flicked the boy's head and chest respectively.

Serena flinched at the first flick but grinned at the second.

"Alright," the boy snickered, rubbing his head. "How do I do that?"

"You heal," Acnologia answered simply. "You heal and you grow. You listen and understand. You must learn how to be in the world you now pull your power from. This is not magic you can force or techniques you can just repeat over until mastery. This is a life - a literal shifting of body, mind, and magic."

He closed his eyes and looked back to the wind, breathing in the mana that tickled his throat and warmed his chest. He could hear Serena do the same with a deep breath. The boy's meditation was messy; uncertain. He had no idea how to control his flow of magic or take in the mana around him, but the breathing was a start.

"Find where your elements exist around you, recognize what they feel like - feel how they connect with you, how they want to connect with you. The better you understand where your power stems from, the better you can harness it. The more you listen to your elements, the more they listen to you."

"What's yours?" Serena asked after a moment. Acnologia's silence only spurred him to clarify; "What's your element?"

Acnologia let the question sink in and chuckled softly to the breeze.

"What?" the boy demanded. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," the king supposed. "I am not often asked."

"No way!" the boy denied.

"I am the Dragon of the Apocalypse."

"That's not an element."

"That is... true..."

"So what's your actual element." He was not amused by Acnologia's dodging, in the slightest, and something was endearing about his annoyance.

Acnologia laughed once more before looking into the wind, relishing how it sifted through his hair. 

"Magic." He answered softly. "I am the dragon of raw magic - magic in its purest sense: the mana in the air and earth. The power that seeps from this world before it is harnessed by mages."

"WHAT!? That's... just not fucking fair," Serena deadpanned and Ancologia chuckled. "Magic!? All the elements and you got magic!? Your magic is magic!???"

"It is natural, is it not?" Acnologia supposed softly. "Magic... it lives all around us - it may be the most natural thing in the world."

"Then why are you called the Apocalypse Dragon?"

Acnologia's smile faded as his thoughts drifting to the horizon and far beyond it. It took a moment of recollection, sifting through old memories with equal parts disdain and remorse.

"Because that was what I was trained to be," he answered finally. "I was the end of days: the ultimate tool of destruction for which there was no answer."

"But you could be the Magic Dragon," Serena teased, scooting closer to the older dragon slayer and grinning. His fangs had started to grow out, his canines elongating slowly and painfully into sharper tips. "That'd be a real change in your brand."

They made the Dragon King smile with warmth.

"I could be... but I am not," he murmured. "I am aptly named."

They sat in silence for a few more minutes, bodies still and eyes closed - well, for the most part. Serena kept peeking, fixing his posture to mimic Acnologia, an intensity hidden in his strive for perfection. Subconsciously his mana pool had begun ebbing alongside Acnologia's steady beat, growing and shedding like a constant, slow breath. 

Acnologia could feel the entropy in the boy's magic, the potential and energy crashing and colliding around his form as it messily tried to adapt to it all. It starkly contradicted his own, constant, presence, but it would improve the longer it settled.

"Why don't they ask you?" Serena's voice startled him out of his planning. He opened an eye to side-eye the boy.

The young slayer's magic control had faded as his head tilted, weighted by curiosity and naivety. 

"Ask me what?" Acnologia arched a brow as he pretended to go back to his meditation.

"About your element - you said no one's ever asked you before?"

"I said few do."

"Why?"

"It would be pointless - it doesn't matter what my dragon-slaying magic is, only that it is unbeatable."

"Unbeatable!?"

"I eat all magic," Acnologia chuckled. "I cannot run out of mana nor can I be affected by it. Physical attacks are the only thing that can dent me - and even then, there's no besting me there. No information will help when I am your opponent."

"So you've never lost?" Serena demanded.

"I have not," Acnologia nodded solemnly. Immediately he was reminded of a blazing flame with a young slayer at its center. His body shuttered with the memory of having every bone shattered and his already split soul rived from what was left of his body. He remembered feeling all magic flee from his fingers, the mana abandoning him in the wake of an attack that targeted the soul he'd ravaged within himself.

"Are you lying?" Serena demanded curtly.

Acnologia smirked; "Do you think I am?"

"Well - you must've lost sometimes."

"Perhaps - when I was a boy," Acnologia admitted. "Before I became what I am now. And perhaps..."

King? Thanks... but no thanks.

"Perhaps, I will be bested someday," he murmured.

"By me?" Serena snickered proudly.

"No," Acnologia deadpanned.

"What!? Oh come on - aren't apprentices supposed to surpass their masters?"

"Not in this case."

The boy crossed his arms and glowered; "I'll show you."

"Oh, I look forward to you trying," Acnologia lied, glimpsing at the boy. He didn't blink for the next few moments, less the memory of an older Serena gasping his final breaths flashed in his vision.

────── {⋆❉⋆} ──────

The first year of training was... gentle.

It was the bending of wind on peaks as he used to do with Grandeeney. It was sitting through thunderstorms, watching the boy try to predict where the next bolt of lightning would strike. It was cupping the boy's hands as he summoned fire, watching it grow and shrink with every breath, just as Igneel used to do with his heir.

Serena was a vivacious learner. He did it all with eagerness and joy bursting from his smile and his questions. He didn't like criticism, Acnologia learned quickly, but the boy strove for absolute perfection.

A simple; "watch your feet" would remind him to fix his stance. A tap on his shoulder would straighten his back. A slow inhale would remind the boy to breathe. 

He was a good student and Acnologia had to pray that he was an acceptable master. The lessons he taught were not the lessons he'd grown up with, but they were the lessons Anna had helped him learn. The lessons he'd found too late with Igneel and Skiadrum. 

It seemed to be working. The boy's magic had begun to settle into a consistent hum. His different elements had found niches and compromises when it came to Serena's body and aura. They were slowly becoming a unified force for the boy to tap into. Meditation served as the most important tool in the boy's arsenal, as it was with Acnologia's. Anytime a particular element acted up, misbehaving with mana or pushing the limits of Serena's body, a few moments of peace seemed to quiet it, just as it quieted the beast within Acnologia's magic.

"It's just annoying," the boy seethed one day, his fingers gripping his pants as small sparks of electricity bounced over his skin. His form shook as he tried to suppress it, but the lacrima didn't seem particularly obedient.

"Unclench your jaw less you chip a tooth," Acnologia instructed.

"Why won't it listen," Serena hissed as his hair began to frizz. His heart had quickened, his breaths growing more frantic as his magic presence quivered, jolting and jumping with wild magic.

"Because," Acnologia shrugged. "It is strong. It is ancient and it -"

"Well, then how come you control it so well!?" the boy snapped. "And don't say it's just because you're ancient too!"

"I was not going to say it," Acnologia huffed, sitting down next to the boy. "And sometimes... I do struggle to control it."

"No, you don't -"

"I do," Acnologia assured softly. "Sometimes... it takes everything I have to keep from letting my dragon loose. I have to do exactly what you do now."

Serena glanced at him, small diamond scales appearing on his cheeks as another magic began to go haywire.

"Breathe," Acnologia instructed calmly. "Take deep breaths and feel your magic. Panic will only make it worse."

"I'm not panicking!"

"You are. And that's alright. Remember it is yours, even when it goes wild. Even when it will not listen to you. That magic is yours now."

"It should listen!"

"It should not: that magic is wild - you cannot force it. You must tame it. Trust it. Work with it. You do not command it. It is you. You cannot control it anymore than you control your fears an anxieties. Now relax and breathe."

In and out. In and out. An inhale and a hold. An exhale and a quiver. A quiet eternity of loathing as the boy grappled with himself, a growl rumbling in his chest - a new development of his lungs in the past week. They sat for a while until Serena managed to find it - whatever centered himself and calmed that storm.

The boy was learning, quickly. He was growing more confident with each day and even in minor setbacks, such as this, he recovered with surprising tenacity. It was... strange.

It was strange for Acnologia to watch him grow, improve, and smile. Such a promising young slayer who would never fear his magic or the ancestry behind it. He would know nothing of scaled battlefields and dragon cries. He'd hunted no hatchlings and faced no drakes in life-or-death combat. He had not split skulls or basked in dragon blood, and perhaps he never would. He would grow, as children should. He would jump and laugh and cackle, gawking in awe as he summoned water and slipped into shadows. He would play pranks and ask questions. He would fail and frown, but he would never flinch.

And Acnologia's skin would crawl and his bones would ache, a strange pain in his chest that gnawed but never snapped. It would be wonderful... and it would be strange, but he would smile all the same.

────── {⋆❉⋆} ──────

In the second and last year of training, the regiment began to change.

"What!?" Serena gawked.

"Hit me," Acnologia growled in his dragon form, standing tall. "I have taught you how to roar - roar."

"You want me to hit you!?"

"I want you to try."

"But -"

Acnologia took a step forward and lowered his head, placing his chin on the ground so he could at least try to be at eye level with his protégé. His breaths shook the grass and his wings spread out, shadowing everything around them.

"You will not hurt me, so do not hold back."

"I killed that boulder!" Serena cried desperately, pointing at the rocks a few feet away that did, in fact, have a clean circle carved through it.

"You cannot kill boulders," Acnologia chuckled, raising his head as the frills around his head quivered.  "And you cannot kill me. Now come on, it is one thing to hit rocks, it is another to hit a dragon."

And so it began. It took about a week for the boy to roar with seven of his dragons - the eight, Core Dragon Slaying magic was fundamentally different in too many ways to try to connect the lessons. The other slayer magics, however, came naturally. 

Roaring was one of the simpler forms of dragon slaying magic, but it demanded a complete integration between element and body, so Serena's mastery of it boded well for their next lessons.

Wing Attack, Talon, Claw: Offensive attacks came easiest to Purgatory, Sea King, and Gale. They tickled Acnologia's terrifyingly thick scales but would've slain a lesser dragon by the time Acnologia was satisfied with the boy's progress.

He taught the boy to summon his scales at will - something the diamond dragon slaying magic proved immensely helpful with. They sat for hours, Acnologia's skin bursting to life with glowing blue-black scales as Serena's brows furrowed in concentration, sharp shimmering scales slipping out from under his skin through his beads of focused sweat. They experimented with other scales too as diamonds were sharp but held... crucial weaknesses.

Darkness and Spark helped him with mobility. Lightning body and shadow step were no small feats but the boy learned them with a cackle and a grin, vaulting out of one shadow, jolting into the sky in a flash of electricity before slipping back into a shadow - like a terrible game of whack-a-mole (a game he'd played once in Ivan's youth which had resulted in a broken arcade game and a lifetime ban of the said arcade.)

But to digress, some other draconic abilities demanded a more... taxing teaching method.

"Uhhhhh, Sensei!?" Serena cried over the roaring wind as he clung to Acnologia's scales. They ripped through the air, Acnologia's dragon form tearing through the clouds as they soared over the great ocean. 

"Are you ready!?" Acnologia roared to the sky.

"Ready!?" the boy shrieked. "FOR WHAT!? YOU HAVEN'T TOLD ME WHAT WE'RE -"

"Hang on!"

And with that, he dove into the sea with a screaming thirteen-year-old on his back. The child continued to scream for a few moments underwater before he realized he was breathing just fine. Shocking a Sea King's gills into existence was not the most ethical method of teaching, but it worked out. Besides, where else would the boy lean to master currents and water pressure than where he was subject to it?

Same for caverns - so what if they got lost a few times? The boy learned to navigate underground terrain masterfully... eventually. Some slayer magics just needed a more hands-on experience, and the Sea King and Cavern lacrimas would add to the preferable battlegrounds Serena could manipulate.

Place to place, terrain to terrain, spell to spell. Soon the boy had seen nearly every corner of the globe and learned all the basics Acnologia could teach him. By his fourteenth birthday, he'd learned to fly with his Gale slaying, and a week before they were meant to rendezvous with the Council, Acnologia and the child flew to his last lesson.

The two landed just south of a familiar town, Serena stumbling as he tried to stick a messier landing, the air clinging to him dissipated with a gasp. They entered civilization slowly, weaving their way through the streets, the noises, smells, and sensations no longer a pressing worry for the adjusted young dragon slayer. Magnolia was how Magnolia would likely always be; busy. Based on the sounds crashing from behind the guildhall doors, Fairy Tail hadn't changed either. Acnologia placed a hand on the door and glanced back to the teenager eagerly listening at his heels.

"Your final lesson is this; if anything happens and you need somewhere to go, you come here," Acnologia instructed solemnly. 

Serena nodded, bearing his fangs in a smile: "Because you'll be here?"

"Because if I'm not, they will still watch after you," Acnologia corrected, and with that, he pushed the door open and strode into the wildness of the guild.

A table flew across the room as two mages argued over a card game and there was a loud, off-tune cry of drunk men attempting to butcher a drinking song. Acnologia strode calmly through it all while Serena laughed and took it in with wide eyes, scampering away from his side eagerly to bear witness to the madness.

Acnologia didn't mind: best for the kid to be acquainted with everyone anyway. He found his old seat - god he'd missed that seat - and found that sitting on the bar above it was a familiar old man, donned in an orange outfit and that familiar god-awful hat.

"Well," Makarov beamed. "The great dragon's returned."

"It is good to see it all in one piece," Acnologia smirked. 

"Against the odds," the old man sighed, looking out over the rowdy crowd. "It seems your boy has grown."

Acnologia glanced back and saw that Serena (left unaccompanied for two seconds) had somehow already gotten involved in an arm wrestling contest and was grinning smugly as some overly muscled member was throwing everything he could into besting some scrawny fourteen-year-old who wasn't budging an inch.

"Yes... he has," Acnologia agreed, sitting in his seat and taking in the chaos. "But now it is up to him to survive what the council throws at him."

"Maybe when it's all said and done, he can come here. He seems to fit right in - freakishly well in fact," Makarov laughed, watching Serena slam his opponent's hand so hard into the table that it cracked. A loud cry of celebration went up at such a display and Serena was laughing, being hugged by some drunk and overly excited young mage.

Acnologia watched it, his smile fading into something darker.

"What's on your mind, old friend?" Makarov recognized.

"He will never be done with it," Acnologia murmured ruefully.

Makarov let out a sigh and somehow managed a smile as Serena was dared into picking up a table - and was doing so. Members scrambled to climb atop the table in this feat of strength.

"The council will never be done with him," Acnologia elaborated after a moment. "Serena will never be able to shake them, not without criminalizing himself."

"Surely they can't claim to... to own his lacrimas forever?" Makarov sighed wearily. "Surely..."

"They will." There was hate and anger and defeat... but more than that there was recognition that sparked in Acnologia's cold eyes. "And it is my fault."

"It's not -"

"It is." He was simplistic, appearing almost unbothered. "He is considered insurance against me. They think that if I ever go rogue, they can throw him against me. They will never let him slip through their fingers - not a chance."

Makarov gazed knowingly at Acnologia, a strange sort of sympathy on his face.

"They are wrong, of course," Acnologia shrugged. "That boy will never be able to defeat me. It is a pathetic attempt to control me."

Blood. Grass. A broken metal wheel of blades. The slump of a body as it hit the earth. The gasp of a fallen slayer. Acnologia looked at his hand and felt it tingle with the memory, his mind ringing with Serena's laughter.

"He doesn't have to beat you to control you," Makarov determined softly - the damn old man too clever for his own good. "But I hope the day never comes when we'll have to find out what sort of insurance Serena is meant to be."

"Then hope." Acnologia asked of the master, his throat tightening as Serena was lifted into the air by a new conglomeration of mages, an infectious giggle on his lips. 

"Hope for the best, Makarov - for the good of everyone on this gods-damned continent."

[   I'M SORRY I'M LATE! I'M POSTING THIS FROM A CAVE WITH BAD WIFI I HAVE NOT DONE MY USUAL REVIEW IT ISSSS WHAT IT ISSSSS -

Crawford Seam: OBJECTION. That is council property!

Acnologia *with Serena under one arm*: Nu-uh.

Seam:... 

Seam: THE FUCK YOU MEAN "Nu-uh"!?

I could've just summed this chapter up as:

Oh no, our apathetic dragon slayer has gotten attached to yet ANOTHER problem child. Surely this isn't going to become a pattern - oh wait fucking moment  ]