A year passed; Serena did not vanish into thin air. 

That, somehow, was not comforting. The boy didn't vanish and was instead condemned to whatever fate awaited him behind those stone walls in Era. Letting Serena go to the Council was one of the strangest and worst moments of Acnologia's life - and there had been plenty of bad moments. He couldn't place it or even rationalize it, but watching that boy drift amidst the drab colors and symbolic emblems felt like swallowing glass. He was left settling into a silence that echoed far too loud after two years spent in that exuberant chaos. It stung in all the familiar ways such quiet always had.

He'd taken a week to himself in the emptiness of the wilderness to try and ease that aching. He meditated in a desperate attempt to chase away the rising unease, picking and picking like Skiadrum at his itching scales. Something was twisting inside him, scales scraping against bone as it gnawed on him with a possessiveness he recognized but had never experienced.

He could hear his siblings' rumbling laughter.

"Fucking ΛᴀCᴀИᴛBʀOᴏD bullshit - it was two CᴜʁsEᴅ years!" The silence ached in his chest all the same no matter how he seethed against it. "He is not mine!"

It didn't seem to matter. Logic had never satiated a dragon set in its ways, and he seemed very set in his ways. He gave up on isolated meditation and luckily, the guild helped... at least when it came to chasing away such discordant rumblings. It was easier to sit in silence when some sort of chaos filled the space next to him.

Even if the chaos was more... irritating. Case and point: whatever was happening to his left.  

"She left you?"

"Damn! The hell did you do this time, Gildy?"

Macao had the decency to try and sound sympathetic. Wakaba didn't even try.

"I dunno - smth'n 'bout priorities a-and my job a-and all the - the guild and the - and the danger and the -" Gildarts was weeping loudly into the table, which was not Acnologia's favorite scene. 

The three were all huddled around the bar, Gildarts squished between his guildmates in a human sandwich of misery and regret. This was the seventeenth? soul-crushing split Acnologia had witnessed. Gildarts wasn't known for his healthy post-breakup routine, and it seemed this time would be no different.

The great Dragon King was never fond of handling such matters and had planned to escape the scene, at least until Makarov tapped on his shin. The guild master handed him three envelopes with a heavy sigh and condemned the old slayer to an even worse fate.

"Letters from the council," the master explained regretfully.

Acnologia sighed as he snatched the papers and turned back to the bar, tearing open the first one none too quickly. It seemed he was stuck suffering through Gildart's noisy heartbreak after all. Makarov climbed up next to him and began handling his respective stack of mail - far larger than the Dragon King's few measly letters.

Acnologia hummed, head propped up in hand, as he skimmed slowly through his first note in the time it took Makarov to read three.

"The damn kids broke a mountain," Makarov sighed in defeat. "Now we have to pay some mining company."

"Hm. Well, Serena's exhibiting 'atrocious dietary habits'; whatever that is supposed to mean, and they're wondering if they should diet him," Acnologia groaned, rubbing his eyes. "Goddamn ΛᴀCᴀИᴛ sKᴜΓʟƧ. No, why would they restrict what he eats!? Give me that pen -"

"Alright! Which one of you brats punched a diplomat!?" Makarov paid no mind to the great Dragon of the Apocalypse snatching his quill. He was too busy looking for the culprit: "Macao!"

"Wasn't me this time!" the fire mage defended quickly. "I haven't punched anyone - or anything - in... three weeks!" He took far too long counting the days on his fingers.

"And before you ask - wasn't me neither!" Wakaba snapped through his cigarette. "I've been doing nothing but patrol missions! I swear! Haven't left Fiore in a year - or seen any hoity-toity diplomats."

Acnologia was busy writing notes in penmanship that bordered on illegible, giving no mind to the Master's inquisition. Gildarts was still sobbing into his cloak pathetically.

"It might have been him," Macao winced at a particularly noisy wail.

Wakaba pat the drunk superpower on the back and shook his head: "There, there buddy... there'll be other girls - or guys. Ya know, maybe you should just take a break from this whole dating thing. Buuuut, if you need a rebound, I actually met this super chill chick who knows a new bar downtown. You're not her type, but she'd totally introduce you to some hot -"

Gildarts banged his head on the bar and called for another drink, or maybe for mercy - it was hard to tell with his slurred words. 

"Well!? Was it Gildarts!? Somebody better fess up! These are international charges! I'll look through the paperwork!" Makarov's threat was a familiar one that had every mage avoiding eye contact, whistling inconspicuously as they hid behind books, ducked under tables, or shuffled behind the job board.

Acnologia shook his head with some warmth in his smile as he opened the next letter. Ah, Mavis, they never changed. The momentary affections were killed as the next letter's lines swam off the page. For a council so insistent on having full custody of their Hybrid Theory, they were contacting him an awful lot for draconic insights -

"Yes, it is normal for dragons to sharpen their teeth," he sighed aloud, tossing the letter aside as if it were a hot coal. It shriveled away with a brilliant blue glow to it before it disintegrated completely into ash to the sound of his mutterings. "I am going to have to flay someone. What do they want his canines to do? Stop growing!?"

Everyone was too busy listening to Makarov's next announcement to hear such whispered threats: "Gildarts! I'm taking the mountain-destruction out of your reward money!"

The guild master got a wail of grief as a response. 

"Go easy on the guy, it was a rough breakup!" Macao defended. "Hey, we're gonna need more alcohol over here!"

"He's cut off!" Maya yelled from the back. "I won't be a collaborator in any more rebounds! That mirror-mage was my last straw!"

"She's probably already got a rebound -" Gildarts wailed. "Bet he's a good guy too -"

Wakaba tutted and puffed out a cloud of smoke that not so subtly turned into a broken heart: "Wow, man, this one really got you good. You wanna smoke?"

Gildarts continued in his drunken wailing: "She was right - I am a mess!"

"Oooookay, Maya - can we please get another drink?" Macao begged. "I'm gonna need it."

"You get nothing until he's home, in bed, with a cup of water next to him!" 

Macao whined, which in no way befit his age. Wakaba with him. Three miserable guild members lamenting their woes like children. Acnologia and Makarov watched it all with flat expressions - unimpressed and apathetic. Macao met the master's gaze and gestured at the Ace of Fairy Tail helplessly.

"Awww, he's had a rough go, Master. Come on, have some heart -"

"I have a rough bill," Makarov huffed before notating something on the ledger to his side.

Acnologia shook his head at the antics before he plucked up the third and final letter. The handwritten address was far messier than the Council's professional script. Odd. He ripped the top open and pulled out the messily folded paper to discover why.

No one else started a letter to him with: Hey Sensei!

"CᴜʁsEᴅ ᴇXɪƧᴛEɴCᴇ," he swore, standing.

Makarov looked up from his ledger, startled as his pen was tossed back at his chest: "What?"

"Serena," Acnologia rued before departing without another word.

Hey Sensei!

It's been a rough week, and I could use some insight. We should meet up! Somewhere scary!!!

Like - super scary! As soon as you get this letter!!!

Wink-wink!

       ~ The fabulous God Serena ⋆

───── {⋆❉⋆} ──────

"This is what you call a coded message?" Acnologia demanded as he strode through the shadows of the dead wood. Petrified trees rose around shadowed cliffs and ruined buildings - evidence of a volcanic explosion a few decades back. It had been where Serena had first practiced his Purgatory Dragon techniques, one of their few lessons that had taken place within Fiore.

The young slayer sat in the middle of a ruined neighborhood, the skeletons of houses sticking up around him like a shattered ribcage. He looked up from his meditation with a familiar grin that gutted the vacant space it filled.

"Well, thank Zeref that I didn't make it more complicated - you took forever to get here!"

"Why would you write the word wink!?"

"Uh... so you would know it was coded? Duh."

The boy was freshly sixteen. His expression was a bit sharper and his gaze a bit sterner. He was taller and fuller. He'd done his hair differently, using a familiar dual ponytail style that made Acnologia's mouth dry for a moment. A mere year and he was already so different: grown. Acnologia had glimpsed him through the year - it had been impossible to let the boy go completely, but they hadn't had a chance to speak one-on-one in too long.

"I came as soon as I got it." Acnologia swallowed his thoughts, and they sank into his stomach like stones.

"I know, I'm teasing. Honestly, just glad it got to you. You were right, they don't like me doing anything without them. Contacting you via lacrima would've been too risky. I'm pretty sure all the ones they give me directly message my boss every time I call for takeout -"

"Are you well?" Acnologia asked knowingly.

"Eh," Serena waved off. "Those vacation days are few and far between, but I'm having fun. Technically, I am still on the clock, so maybe don't tell them we talked, if you catch my drift."

Acnologia huffed. "Ah, yes, I shall reveal your betrayal to the Council: my favorite people."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." His laughs were short as he looked down to the ground and began fidgeting with his sleeves.

"So, what is wrong?"

The boy sighed: "You want the good news or the bad stuff?"

"Bad."

"Oof, you're one of those people. Fine. Bad news: We've got three dragon lacrimas on the run."

Acnologia's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean on the run? They do not have legs -"

"No shit, Sensei. You know how there were lacrimas I couldn't... take?"

"The two atop of the eight you had already been subjected to?"

"Yeah...  sooooo, the council totally lost them."

Acnologia's jaw tightened, and he hissed his next demand out of clenched teeth. "Lost?"

"Some thieves broke into a council compound - intro three compounds actually, each holding a lacrima. They got the Poison, a Lightning, and a third one the council dug up a year ago. Some water-dragon-something."

"So these thieves were after lacrimas?"

"Yep, and I've heard from... various sources -" how cryptic - "that they also got their hands on Hybrid Theory research."

Acnologia felt his bones lock in place, his eyes glued on Serena's tumbling gaze.

"So these weren't just thieves."

"I think it was a dark guild; it had to be organized," Serena murmured, leaning on his hands and sighing. "But now we've got three dragon lacrimas on the loose and a possible second attempt at the hybrid theory. Hooray!"

"Or three dragon slayers," Acnologia scowled. He shook his head in a hiss; "What was the council planning with more lacrimas?"

"To recreate me... Probably."

Acnologia cursed, holding his head. "ƧᴀKᴇ ᴏȽ ⱯΓʙIʀꓕʜ."

"Can these thieves... do that? You said eight only worked because I had the Core Dragon: could some random mage handle three?"

"Without any prior dragon slayer training? No."

"See, that's what I thought." Serena stood and began to brush the ash off his robes. The magic council vestments were ill-fitting to the rest of his wardrobe, and he carried them more like a weight than a cape, but his smile found some brightness. "That's why I called you! Best guy for the job!"

"You want me to find the lacrimas?" Acnologia supposed.

"Well, the council doesn't; they're terrified of letting the news get out and someone finding their precious little crystals first. They sent me to deal with it, but there's no way I'll find all three before something bad happens."

"You will get in trouble when they find out I got involved."

"What are they gonna do? Arrest their golden child?" Serena snickered ruefully. "Nah, I'll get a slap on the wrist and maybe a stern talking to. But the good news is that if you manage to find those lacrimas before the council does... well... it wouldn't be so bad if they just disappeared, ya know?"

"You are trying to get the council to hate me."

"Oh, my precious, naive master, they despise you already. No work from me needed! Listen, I'd rather they be in your hands than my lovely employers," Serena shrugged. "I'm sure you understand."

Acnologia huffed at that one but didn't disagree.

"The council's lacrima rules are stone-solid unless something like this happens," Serena murmured. "This may be your only chance to stop them from creating more of me."

Acnologia gazed at the boy, long and hard. "I know why I am reluctant to make more dragon slayers, but why are you so wary now?"

"I'm not! The world could use more me's, in my opinion. Not that it's possible; perfection is so hard to recreate - "

"Serena."

The boy sighed as he leaned back, a wry smile on his face. "Come on, Sensei, we both know what'll happen if the council gets their hands on another dragon slayer."

The silence that descended for a long moment weighed more than half the world, but still, Acnologia stood, and Serena cackled at some joke he'd yet to make.

"So... are you ready to tick off my lovely employers?" the boy grinned. "I mean... come on, you're so good at that."

The Dragon King had to grin at the truth there: "It seems I am."

They spent the next few minutes making some strategy. Serena would follow the trail the council set him on, and Acnologia would fly in the direction one of the thieves had fled in. Hopefully, it led them to a convergence. Before they set out, Serena offered Acnologia a small sound lacrima to keep up communication.

"It's Council tech, usually used to yell at me while I'm in the field." Serena grinned, offering the small lacrima with a dramatic bow. "Now we can talk to each other from across Earthland."

"It will not try to fry my brain, correct?" Acnologia stared at the earpiece suspiciously.

"No. God, you are an old man!"

Then they'd spread out, Acnologia transforming and taking to the skies as Serena went to investigate traces of the crime. The lacrimas had been stolen two days ago, which gave the thieves a fairly big head-start. Serena connected with undercover mages and darker council connections, exploring dark markets and eavesdropping on illegal auctions. Acnologia utilized his... personal resources.

He'd once been a dragon hunter, able to pinpoint and chase the beasts for days without end. Draconic magic was recognizable, abrasive even, to the senses. Acnologia could identify every magic user and magic presence about him, and he'd spent a lifetime using that to hunt down dragons across all corners of the globe.

Dragon lacrimas just felt like smaller, weaker, trickier dragons. Tapping into that side of his magic made his scales crawl with disconnected memories: mountains crumbling like cardboard beneath his claws, exposing nests that screamed in crimson; beasts writing in his claws as they tumbled through the air; young wyrms scrambling up mountainsides in vain, premature wings flapping uselessly. He was not that nightmare anymore - he did not hunt, he searched. This was different... in every way.

He kept reminding himself of that.

Serena picked up a paper trail from an auction at about the same time Acnologia found the scent. They decided to follow Acnologia's trail first, Acnologia leading the charge and Serena arriving too late to claim the lacrima but in enough time to show he tried. That was the plan, at least.

They both breathed a sigh of relief when they recognized the lacrimas had been split up. It was a better situation than an ambitious dark guild using all three lacrimas to try to recreate the Hybrid Theory and inevitably failing. Or worse, finding a way to make it work.

But, that meant there could be more individualized dragon slayers - ones who survived the operation. An equally big problem.

The lacrima Acnologia was on the trail of grew fresher by the hour, and its carriers hadn't dampened its presence with enchantments, so it wasn't hard to trace it. The trail led him to a cult hidden in the swamps of the north. Their camp lay on a raised hill, the one part of dry land there was in the marsh. Purple flags with a lizard skull stamp danced in the morning sun, flapping wildly as the wind picked up without warning. The mosquitoes and frogs grew silent when the Dragon King landed at the base's center like a coming calamity. His roar shook the earth, and the first line of defense fell within seconds. The few who dared charge were swatted away with a claw, the line crashing through the water like skipping stones.

The lacrima was close, its magic fresher than any brackish, algaed, or murky water: The water dragon, perhaps. Spring, geyser, waterfall, storm, pond, river - any of those species could match the scent.

Below.

He brought his snout to the earth and closed his eyes, feeling the shaking pulses of magic energy humming from beneath him. It had called to him, and now he knew why. They'd already started. The pulsing was too familiar - draconic power trying to escape a mortal form, looking for resistance from scale and mana when all it had was flesh and bone.

It called to its king. A challenge. A welcome. A mixture of signals tied in a song Acnologia had not heard in a long time.

It would take too long to search for the entrance to the underground chamber, so Acnologia's impressive claws began to dig, carving a hole into the earth in seconds before his claws scraped into a stone ceiling.

With more purpose, he sunk his claw into the stonework and ripped it free, trying not to bring the chamber down around its inhabitants. There were screams of terror from below, and a few wails of pain as stones fell and passageways collapsed to make room for the ginormous dragon claw prying its ceiling in two.

The energy was growing, the surge of wild magic growing into a tsunami of mana, rising higher and higher. With the sunlight and swamp water streaming into the ritual chamber, Acnologia plunged into the hole he'd created. His human form hit the earth with a heavy impact that sent the stone floor tiles flying as he launched toward the raised altar at the end of the room.

A woman lay strapped to the stone tablet, the epicenter of the peaking magic power. Her body was writhing, the cult's purple emblem on her shoulder trembling with the rest of her mortal form.

She was too old - too human. She'd been a mage of a different caliber - still something to do with water, but nothing compared to the raw elemental strength of a dragon. The lacrima, displeased with its host, was tearing through her, seeking something more substantial - something draconic to place its roots in.

That tsunami had hit its peak, and Acnologia reached the altar right as the wave crashed around them all. There was a shattering, a screaming, a roar, and a silence. All of the raw mana the swamp had to offer was condensed, collapsing on itself and its host before the lacrima shattered. With no usable host to cling to, the draconic magic threw everything it had into its destruction: the final roar of a dragon's glorious death.

Acnologia stood unharmed in the quiet of the fading tide.

The front of him was splashed with scarlet. The red dripped from the altar to the ground below, filling the carvings of vengeful dragons that lay beneath the Dragon King's feet. The flags in the room were still waving from the shockwave that had crashed through the room, sending cultists sprawling as it pushed all else away but the dragon it had called to.

There was no human anymore, just a corpse. Her torso had split open, a glittering peeking out from what was once her collarbones - blue shards of draconic energy that bled the last of their magic to the air and weakly gnawed at the bones around them. Acnologia placed a hand on the altar, his fingers rippling through the steady flow of crimson. Blood, always blood. It spilled from her eyes and nose, dripping from her mouth as her organs grew quiet. A draconic taste stung the Dragon King's tongue, and it nearly felt like home.

Horror did not describe it. Nor disgust. It was not guilt, regret, or shock.

It was something... disturbingly fragile.

It was the memory of a pair of dragons, laughing as they played in the river; one white, one black. It was Anna's worry; Weisslogia and Skiadrum's children were so young, would they survive such an operation - was it safe? It was Weisslogia nodding, speaking of blankets and warmth and enchantments and care. It was Skiadrum purring with the thought of his children, safe and whole - imbued with the blessings of ancestors they'd never know but who loved them nonetheless. It was Skiadrum... Sobbing. A dark lacrima in his large claws and a black-scaled corpse before them. Wiesslogia had been elsewhere when Skiadrum's Aunt had fallen, her final breaths a blessing to her forsaken nephew - Something more precious than any magic she offered.... the way he had curled into Acnologia's side - the ever-stoic dragon suddenly so weary of the war, so tired of the death and the loss and the bloodied lacrima in his claw. It was a Council operating table that had made Acnologia want to tear himself inside out. It was ten lacrimas screaming for their families - draconic souls and bloodlines sobbing in that hell of stone, metal, and humans. It was Serena's weaker smile and a weight on his side:

"I'm glad you were there."

It was this hell. This hellish place of shackles and pain, neither warm nor loving but cold and ambitious. It was the smell of a water dragon's legacy fading to the sky while the acrid stench of death replaced the emptiness where a human had once breathed and dreamed. It was humans meddling where dragons had once ruled. It was monsters messing with things they could not understand. It was another dragon's lineage lost to the cosmos.

And he was always helpless to stop it - save them. Their king. Their failure.

Some fool was charging him, sword held aloft. Some mortal. Some human.

Acnologia's hand raised on its own accord, and before he could think, he'd eviscerated everything to his left. That was a shock.

He stared at the perfect circle carved to his left. Everything turned to dust and ash - not a bone or a breath to remain. It began to collapse on itself further down, the swamp crashing in to reclaim what Acnologia had so easily carved through. How many humans had been there? How many had he just killed?

What lingered in his throat wasn't remorse. It was darker... angrier...

Any cultists left had begun screaming, scrambling to escape, and wailing in grief or disbelief. They screamed until they had fled the swamp itself and left Acnologia alone before that altar. Stones echoed their fall to empty corridors while water dripped in a steady percussion. The bugs began to sing again as water mixed with the bloody stones. The mana that seeped from the swamp continued to flow, slowly but surely overpowering all evidence that there had ever been a dragon lacrima, much less one that shattered.

Serena arrived within the hour; He had fifteen, no - seventeen soldiers by the sound of it. They found him in that chamber, in a cavern slowly filling with water. Serena jumped down to join him, much to the outcry of his compatriots.

"What happened?" Serena asked as he splashed through the ankle-deep slough, craning his head to try and see the altar. His curiosity pulled him past Acnologia, who stopped him with a breath and a hand on his shoulder.

"You do not want to see."

Serena seemed to consider obeying for once, perhaps sensing the twilight - the weight - in the tone, but he'd always been too curious. He'd never cared about consequences, and he likely never would. He pressed on, ascending the steps and pausing before the gruesome scene. He surveyed it all with more grace than Acnologia, noting the few corpses crushed under rocks and the very apparent magic attack that had carved a chasm into the side of the room.

But his attention, like most, returned to the corpse.

"Wow... I guess you weren't lying," the boy murmured, stuffing his hands in his pockets. There was a casualness to the callousness. There was something darker too - something tight.

"She was too old - too human. There was nothing for the lacrima to cling to, nothing it could change. Her mind, her senses, even her teeth, all fully developed as a human - she never stood a chance."

"So... it killed her?" Serena asked, staring for longer than Acnologia liked.

"Yes," he murmured, standing. "Do not stare -"

"Why not?" Serena challenged, without his usual quip. "This is what you were talking about, right? This is what I could've been; what we're trying to stop."

They stood there in silence for a while longer, at least until the soldiers threw down a rope and began their usual assessment of the scene. Acnologia stayed for the questioning, settling back down on the steps and answering each one carefully.

What were you doing here? I sensed a dragon lacrima being activated, so I rushed to it. Do you have any previous affiliation with this group? None. Do you know what happened to this victim? The lacrima's magic collapsed on itself, shattering it and its host. And these corpses? My entrance caused a cave-in... some were unlucky.

"And this?" a captain asked, gesturing to the gaping tunnel that likely went on for a few miles, carved from Acnologia's momentary... violence.

The Dragon King stared at the testament to his failure and let out a breath. "A lapse in self-control."

The captain nodded stiffly and scribbled more things down.

"We won't pursue any charges: this is the cult of the Lavender Dragon, and it's been wanted by the council for years now. If you want, you can receive the bounties for them," Another soldier offered, gesturing to the corpses.

"No," Acnologia hissed, standing. "I am leaving."

"Very well."

Acnologia glanced over to Serena, who had his arms crossed as he observed it all. It was strange to see such a young boy overseeing the mess of blood and gore - and yet it was so familiar. So fitting. It was stranger still to see Serena as the Council demanded him to be: controlled and serious... poised. Serena glanced over, his gaze firm and sure as he nodded.

Go on. I got this.

The Dragon King was struck with another wave of epiphanies. Serena seemed so young until you considered all Acnologia had done at the boy's age. Serena felt like a mere boy until you considered how many had stood in his place - younger still. Why, then, did it leave the Dragon King's skin crawling?

He couldn't linger to think it over; it was on to the next lacrima.

Acnologia brushed his wild hair out of his iced eyes and jumped out of the underground chamber, landing with ease on the mire above. He took a breath before leaping into the air once more, the magic rushing to his form and his draconic skin erupting from his flesh.

He took off to the sky, pushing on faster than he had before, the air screaming as he ripped past it all. His scales felt just a little too comfortable.

───── {⋆❉⋆} ──────

The following days were no more productive

 "It's - it's just gone," Serena hissed through their communication lacrima. Acnologia was perusing the countryside, sniffing the air now and again to ensure he was still on the right track. This lacrima was held by someone more talented in magic suppression, which was a pain.

"Well, someone bought it," the Dragon King reasoned to his disheartened apprentice. "Find the seller, and you'll find the buyer."

"Easier said than fucking done!" Serena seethed, a familiar childish tint in his otherwise mature fury. "I smelled it - it was the lightning lacrima, for sure - and then... and now it's just gone!"

"Track it as far as you can."

"The vendors here are always on the move; goddamn illegal trading rings - why do they have to be so good at covering their tracks! Don't answer that!"

Acnologia chuckled; it was soft though, entertained, but not enough to overshadow the ever-growing pit in his stomach. The scent of the lacrima was growing fainter and fainter - not in distance but in presence, and there was something else on the wind, a fizzing of magic like a newly open soda can that had been shaken too many times:

Teleportation.

Acnologia reached a small plateau and sighed, a recognizable circle charred into the grass and the lingering scent of his quarry staining his nose. The circle wasn't warm to the touch - he was at least an hour too late. Still, he walked around the sigil and looked for any runes to make out in the charred grass and impacted earth.

"Please tell me you have good news," Serena demanded.

It was unreadable, but still, he tried. How clever to carve a one-way teleportation spell over a flammable surface - it was how Maera used to do it. It was a small circle, a single-person one-way trip with a fixed destination. At least three layers were neatly etched into the dry grass; every rune had sparked a blaze, leaving smudged dots in their wake, but the spacing suggested an intricate code. Whoever it was had a high latent ability or a mastery of teleportation circles.

"I have a used teleportation spell, and no lacrima... or apparent destination."

"Damn it!" Serena seethed. "That's just great! We're O for two then!"

"We will find them," Acnologia assured his apprentice softly with a lie. "The good news is these groups don't seem too eager to use their lacrimas just yet."

"For now, what happens when... What? You found him? Are you sure? Where!? Go! Gooo! YES WE RUN! Everyone: Out of my way! Move!! Sensei, I'll call you back! We have a lead! Byeeeee!" 

The lacrima went silent, and Acnologia massaged his head with a weak chuckle. Somehow, he doubted Serena was as secretive as he claimed to be.

───── {⋆❉⋆} ──────

Serena had found the vendor, but all he'd gotten was the name of the buyer: Raven—no surname, no description, not even a scent to track.

That left two lacrimas to find and no trace of either. It was back to wandering for both of them. Hunt, search, and hope.

Unfortunately, no matter how fast Acnologia was, it didn't help if the lacrimas were dampened, concealed, or suppressed. He could always just fly low as a dragon, but that frightened people, and he didn't need Makarov dealing with more "disturbing the peace" fines. Unfortunately, that meant he had to traverse on foot if he wanted to even glimpse a sensation of the draconic magic, and after a few days with nothing to cling to, he began to traverse all of Ishgar and even a bit beyond it.

Then Serena went silent. The young mage had been routinely calling every evening with updates, so on the first day of silence, Acnologia assumed the boy was tired or busy or disheartened or anything other than what his paranoia offered.

The second day, he tried calling Serena back. It took a bit of fumbling because while he was familiar with lacrimas and magic, he had no experience with humanity's tinkering tendencies. He did finally manage to call and found nothing but static on the other side, leaving him to wonder if he was just horrid with technology or if his gut was right.

The third day of silence left Ancologia thinking Serena was dead. No, it was not logical. Yes, he understood that. It didn't matter. The boy wasn't answering  - the boy was quiet. Acnologia decided to drop the lacrima chase and pursue something more solvable.

Serena, he could sense. Serena, he could find.

He took to the sky again and found the boy within the day - again, speed was no issue for him, it was the damn finding that was hard. When your apprentice carried more magic energy than half of Ishgar, it was too easy to single him out.

He landed before a group of twenty council mages, all of whom scrambled back in fear, exposing Serena, who had been standing in the center of them, cuffed. 

Cuffed.

Acnologia shifted to his human form and tore the restraints off the teenager before he could breathe a word.

"What happened?"

"I'm good! I'm so good, actually! You gotta go get the kid!" Serena ordered frantically over Acnologia's furious heartbeat as he stared at the raw imprints on the child's wrists. The skin had grown pink, small blisters forming on the outsides of his joints, the slightest trails of blood staining his skin in small pin-pricks.

Why had they cuffed him? Magic suppression? On Serena!? He was the closest you could come to someone made of magic! Magic suppression on Serena!? There was a new scent too - acrid, abrasive, powerful... venomous.

"What happened?" Acnologia breathed, low, as he tossed the broken cuffs aside. Serena's voice was tight, and his eyes were wide with something wilder.

"I'm good, just in a tiny bit of trouble. May have punched someone - sorry for not calling you. I had to lay low, but ANYWAY: they have the kid! You gotta stop them before they test his lacrima -"

"What kid?"

The mages were growing bolder, unsure of whether to attack or retreat, but none dared to speak. There was no captain among them.

"Acnologia?" One of the soldiers recognized him. Serena grabbed Acnologia's cloak and spoke a bit louder.

"They found the poison lacrima! They figured out I was gonna tell you, so I had to go quiet - and then they arrested me for trying to stop them from taking the kid, but this doesn't matter because they have the kid! You can stop them! Get going!"

"Are you alright!?" Acnologia demanded.

"For Zeref's sake!" Serena cried, throwing his hands in the air before grabbing Acnologia by his shoulders and turning him to face east. "THAT WAY! Go! Get dragon slayer! Now! Transform - big dragon form, please! Come on! Go! Go! Go! Anytime now! Go! Go! QUICKLY! Hello, Mr. Apocalypse, let's get a move on!"

Confusion wasn't the right word for it, but Acnologia was lost in something similar.

"Acnologia: by order of the council -" a brave soul began to inform, his breath steadying. But Serena had the better lungs.

"SHUT!" Serena whirled around to the soldier, who clammed up quickly at the fury in that gaze. Then the boy was back at Acnologia's side, tapping the Dragon King's shoulder incessantly: "Hello! Mr. Dragon King! Go before they can make an official order, Mr. NOT DOING ANYTHING ILLEGAL YET! Puh-LEASE!" 

Acnologia, while he still had plausible deniability, transformed and took to the sky, glancing back as Serena raised his hands in surrender to the soldiers who had a backup set of cuffs - the bastards. It went against his better judgment to leave the teenager to such a scene. He snarled from above, which got Serena's attention and made the boy huff.

"Do you speak goddamn Fioran, Sensei - go!" Serena shouted over the wind. "I'll be fine! Golden child, remember!?"

"I'll be back," Acnologia vowed and threatened all at once.

With a snarl and a flap, Acnologia rose into the air and moved to the east. Sure enough, he saw a familiar conglomeration of white robes and a prison wagon. It wasn't so much a flight then it was a leap that landed him in front of the group, his claws skidding into the earth as his body lowered and his snarling jaws sent the wiser mortals jumping away.

This close to the wagon, he could smell the suppressed scent of dragon lacrima... no... not lacrima...

Dragon Slayer.

He shifted, his scales sneaking under his skin as he grew smaller but no less intimidating. He strode up to the wagon with too much fury in his throat and not enough reason in his mind. Serena. Lacrimas. Slayers. Damn Council! The thoughts bounced around and spurred him to wade through the sea of council soldiers regardless of consequence.

"Acnologia," one of the soldiers shuttered in recognition, and the name rippled through the ranks uneasily.

"Open the wagon!" Acnologia commanded as he neared it.

"You don't have that type of jurisdict -" a fool began to recite, shoved to the side by Acnologia none too gently as the Dragon King neared the back of the reinforced, enchanted ferry.

The poor fool hit the ground, hard.

"You can't just -" Another fool was silenced by Acnologia grabbing the door of the wagon and pulling it straight off the hinges. 

The shattering and splintering was cathartic, but the Dragon King instantly regretted it when the child inside, his hands smushed against his ears, nearly screamed in pain.

Acnologia stood there for a moment, perfectly still.

The child pressed against the wagon's furthest corner was... he couldn't have been much older than Laxus. Nine? Ten? Eight? The scent flooding freely from the now disenchanted wagon was suffocating, tickling Acnologia's nose and spiking in his throat like a nest of brambles.

Poison.

Anna help him, the kid had been imbued with a poison lacrima. Stuffed in the back of a dark wagon already baring fresh marks of attempted escape. His body must've been on fire, his lungs surely were straining just based on how he wheezed - heart, mind, body, magic, it all must've been tingling as the child was forced to assimilate to one of, if not the most aggressive of all elements. The fact that the kid was alive was miraculous. Worse still, he was conscious and likely near feral.

His brown hair was clumped wildly, disheveled... his purple eyes were wide, exposing painfully newly slit pupils. They weren't dilating, even in the darkness - the boy likely couldn't see. The old slayer weighed his pros and cons but ultimately decided to back away from the carriage as if he were dealing with a rabid drake.

"What do you want?" the boy's demand was a rasp through torn flesh and aching lungs. It curled in the air and bubbled with pain.

"I want to get you out of there," Acnologia answered simply. The shock of the youth had chased away his rage, and now he was very conscious of the council members around him and their whispering. They were deciding what was best to do and how best to stand between him and their quarry.

Fighting was off the table, but they weren't just going to let Acnologia walk off with council property. Well, they were going to try and stop him.

The wagon creaked softer than the wind as small feet traversed its interior, the axils just barely whining as the boy slowly came to the opening and jumped down. It wasn't graceful, and he stumbled, a wheeze seizing his form as he clung to his shoulders to try and hold himself together. There were scales on his hands, small trickles of crimson dripping down his fingertips from clawing at the walls. It was another concern: fresh dragon slayers shouldn't produce scales - and the maroon ones were so small...

In the sunlight, it was obvious that more was amiss than the boy's eyes. His skin was deathly pale for his complexion, exposing darker veins beneath his skin that seemed to throb with his pulse - and if that was the boy's pulse thumping rhythmically in Acnologia's ear, it was far too slow.

"Acnologia!" A soldier shouted, this one atop a horse. The boy hissed in pain, turning his head away from the sound as Acnologia's attention snapped to the audacious soldier. "He's uncontrollable, sir - he nearly killed some of my men before we managed -"

"Of course," Acnologia growled, softly - too softly. "He is a HᴀꓕᴄHʟIɴᘓ. Now silence."

It was not a request but a hissed order that made everyone take a step back, even the boy. Acnologia stared each soldier down for a moment, dark scales threatening to burst from his skin as he tried to slow his breathing and calm the beast beneath his skin.

Small puffs of maroon gas were spilling from the new slayer's lips, and there was dark magic of a similar color dripping from his fingers and burning his skin. Even his lips were stained with the color infecting his veins. He walked as if his body was composed of lead, dragging his feet as he fought for every breath. The first thing the boy did was look for an escape, shrinking back to the cart as he realized they were surrounded.

With that option off the table, he turned his glare to Acnologia. Such a murderous look in someone so young.

"Why do you care?" he demanded in a rasp.

Acnologia blinked at the question, his head tilting. If he had been in dragon form, his head plates would've rippled, frilling out and down; he could almost feel them pressing against his skull. Oh, how his scales wanted to cover his form.

But the boy had made an... interesting demand.

"Because you are a child. And a dragon slayer."

"And you're the Dragon King?" the boy snarled, quietly. How strangely knowledgeable and justifiably paranoid. The child's words barely dripped past his lips, straining out of a strained throat. "I'm no servant."

"No, you are not," Acnologia agreed. Such a little one... too young for all of this...

Twisted mirrors were terrible things.

So much hate. So much pain. It poured off of the boy as he glared with years of darkness in his gaze. Too old to be called childish, too young to be experienced. Strangely enough, the boy's brow raised. He cocked his head as if listening to something, staring at Acnologia as the Dragon King tried to find the next thing to say. Instead of pondering, Acnologia mirrored the boy.

"What?" he asked.

"I'll kill you," the boy threatened, but there wasn't a bite to it. It was simple - a threat? A promise? Or perhaps an assumption that the boy took to be true.

"No," Acnologia smirked.

"I've killed people."

"Not me."

The boy's eyes narrowed - he was listening, wincing as he did so. Acnologia's fingers, adept at tracing magic, circled with practiced finesse. Within seconds, a sealing spell was up around his head, an old trick from an older human friend. Maera would be proud. The boy's eyes widened just as fast, and he snarled, far more guarded than before.

"No offense, child... my head is my own," Acnologia huffed. No one deserved to hear all that...

Some sort of... mind-reading? Hearing, it seemed. Enhanced hearing would match with the flow of the boy's mana. That would be a secondary form of magic that must've melded with his poison dragon lacrima. Intriguing and condemning all at once.

The boy stood, trembling as he glanced at the many soldiers, a panic growing in his chest as he took it all in, his attention always ending up back on Acnologia. There were tears there despite the snarls and growls spitting from his lips.

A scared kid was still a scared child. Blood or no blood under his nails.

"Let me help you: it is them or me, and I will not let them take you. So... it is just me."

"Try it," the boy hissed again, a desperate tint to it. "I'm not going with anyone."

Acnologia dismissed such facts, standing tall. "I am the Dragon King. You are a dragon slayer. Cover your ears."

He then turned to the group of soldiers, noting a captain and his secondary on the horses to his right. The rest were common soldiers and guards. 

"This boy is under my protection under draconic law!" he announced, glaring at the captain. "Do not intervene any further, lest you face my resistance."

Resistance had such a nice ring to it... though it was far too small a word for what he could do. For what he wanted to do. 

"That does not justify you breaking Council property. You also actively threatened Council personnel!" The captain seethed back, his words slow and measured.

The boy was still cringing at the sound, but he was, diligently, covering his ears.

"He is a hatchling - unprotected, nestless. You are not dragons, nor are you caretakers. This is a kidnapping."

"That boy holds council property. I apologize, but the laws are clear -" the captain stated coldly.

"Can you prove that?" Acnologia challenged with an equal chill.

"What?"

"Can you prove the lacrima is yours?"

The captain fell silent, and Acnologia looked to the boy.

"Have you signed anything?"

"N... no?" the boy questioned.

"Did they test you for anything - any magic circles, any poking or prodding?"

"They learned not - to not get close," the boy managed with bared teeth, glaring at the soldiers around him as he coughed. There was fluid in his lungs - poison at best, blood at worst.

They were losing time.

"So you have no idea what dragon lacrima was planted in this boy," Acnologia refuted, forcing himself to tear his eyes off the child. "He was embued by a third party -"

"A dark guild," the captain growled.

"And you do not know where they received the lacrima."

"The council has been seeking a poison dragon slaying lacrima - the boy was imbued with a poison dragon slaying lacrima. Common sense and assumption are -"

"Not law," Acnologia snarled. "There are other ways to procure lacrimas and other poison dragon slayer lacrimas to be found. You have no certainty that this boy is council property. I have every right to claim him under draconic law."

"Allow us to test him," the captain scowled. "That will prove it."

"You would need his guardian's permission; I do not give it."

The captain scowled, but his secondary raised her eyebrows, perhaps impressed. Perhaps convinced.

"As cunning as they say," the captain scorned.

Acnologia snarled before pressing onward, carving through the legion of petrified soldiers. They parted for him, trembling in the wake of his fury. Only once he was through the group did he look back.

"The boy comes with me. Tell your council to keep Serena out of this: he was only upholding draconic law, as is his duty." He glared at the captain, his gaze a killer of cowards and arrogance.

The boy still hadn't followed, clinging to the side of the wagon but eyeing his escape all the same. Acnologia arched a brow.

"Well? Come on."

The child did not budge, cringing closer to the wagon as his legs began to shake.

"Child - " Acnologia began.

"Give me the snake." The boy turned a murderous eye to the council's captain, his lips curling with instincts he'd not yet grown familiar with. "I know you have her."

No one moved, save the Dragon King: "The... snake?"

"Cubellious. They took her. I'm not going without her."

Oh. An easy enough fix, he supposed. The old slayer turned back to the fools in charge and waited, expectantly: "Well, give the boy his snake."

"She was exposed to the dragon lacrima. We need her for testing," the captain grinned.

"Don't you touch her!" The boy seethed, surging forward and promptly collapsing on the ground.

Alright. Acnologia had reached his limit. He'd reached his limit several sentences ago, but he had several limits. He plunged back into the fray of soldiers and looked around for anything that could hold a snake. He had a solid idea of where to look.

"Keep your hands away from my -" The captain was a loud one, his horse the same. Acnologia tore off the saddle pack regardless with a satisfying efficiency. He opened the flap, and oh look, a snake. Who would've guessed?

Small and purple, the little thing was coiled uncomfortably in the bottom of the canvas bag, bearing her fangs at the invading light. The Dragon King closed the sack back up and returned to the boy's side. The young one had climbed back up the side of the wagon, nails digging into the wood with a ferocious determination.

The Dragon King handed him the satchel: "Here. Can you stand?"

The boy snatched the bag like a starving hatchling, ripping it open before sagging with relief. A small purple snout poked out, looking around curiously at the world with large green eyes.

"We need to go," Acnologia urged.

The boy lifted his reptile from the bag as if she were made of glass, the snake weaving between his fingers in a rehearsed dance.

The child seemed a bit steadier with the snake in hand, giving a firm nod before following the Dragon King back through the tide of robes, aggressions, and emblems. The boy stayed close, almost clinging to that old, ragged cloak until they lost sight of the council in the trees and the bends of the road. The council watched them go... silently.

No sooner had they lost sight of the council than the kid tried to bolt.

"Oh no. Do not try," Acnologia scoffed, grabbing the boy by his shirt and plopping him on the ground.

The boy stumbled and then hissed, bearing the new fangs he had acquired before covering his mouth in shock.

"You may not run off."

"I won't bother you - I won't tell anyone," the boy tried to reason, trembling. The snake had climbed onto his arms and was studying Acnologia critically.

"You need medical attention -"

"I'm not seeing your fucking doctor."

"Such language. What is your name, child?" Acnologia demanded.

"None of your business." 

"What can I call you?"

"Nothing. Just let me go."

"That is out of the question. I let you go, the council hunts you down. That is not desirable for either of us."

"No!" the boy snapped.

"Child -"

"I'm not a kid!"

"Well, you have yet to give me a name, so you'll be called what I see fit, Child."

"Fuck you!" He tried to run again and the Dragon King sighed as he plucked the boy up again by the collar of his shit, plopping him down once more.

"I'll fucking kill you!" That was definitely a threat as the boy ripped out of his hands. So much venom for a kid who definitely should've passed out a while ago.

"You can try, HᴀꓕᴄHᴇD OɴE," Acnologia scoffed. "But first, we must make sure your poison does not kill you first."

That made the boy's eyes widen as he held his chest. His companion looked in interest at his sternum, albeit lost as to why.

Acnologia sighed and crouched down: "You have suffered much in the past hours, and you will likely continue to suffer. You need help."

"I don't need your help."

"Where are you trying to go?" Acnologia relented, standing. "If you are so insistent on getting away from me,  then you must be trying to go somewhere. Where?"

"None of your business."

"HᴀꓕᴄHᴇD OɴE." Acnologia held the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Do you have friends we can go to? Family? Someone you can stay with."

The boy sneered. "I said none of your -"

"I will not tell the council. You witnessed my stellar relationship with them."

That didn't soothe anything in the boy's glare.

"If there is somewhere we can go, somewhere you would be more comfortable, somewhere you will be safe, I would be open to suggestions."

"To leave me?" the boy asked.

"I cannot leave you there forever," Acnologia denied. "Family or friends I can protect - and they can then look after you."

"Well, tough. It's just me."

"An your friend?" Acnologia guessed, gesturing to the violet and cream reptile. The boy clutched the snake closer to his chest, his free hand coming around to cover her from sight. A growl exploded into a defensive hiss, showing off his freshly formed fangs. Acnologia paused, raising his hands and offering the little one his space.

The child seemed to physically recoil from his reaction, a hand flying up to cover his mouth. Acnologia fought against a smile as he stared at the purple snake with far too much intelligence in its green eyes.

"Don't touch her."

"I had no intention to. What is its name?"

"Cubelious," the boy answered, coughing afterward. "And she's a she. And we'll be fine on our own, so you can go."

"I am not leaving you with a snake as your caretaker."

"You said - "

"That I needed to get you to a doctor."

"But!"

"She will come with us."

The boy said nothing, but as the snake tried to crawl up his cheek, a weak smile broke out over his face. The reptile was insistent when it came to bumping her head against the child's face.

"Didn't think I'd let them take you, did you?" the new slayer whispered. "Don't tell me you were worried?"

Emotional support snakes aside, they needed to go.

"First, I will check on my apprentice, and then we will deal with your transitional period."

"I'm not going."

Acnologia held the bridge of his nose and sighed with the heaviest of exasperated sighs: "Child -"

"No! I -"

A coughing fit interrupted any further questioning, especially as the boy brought his hand to his lips and came away with a palm full of blood.

"Why is it always stubborn ones?" Acnologia cursed the heavens. Time was up, it seemed.

"Am I dying?" the boy asked suddenly, his eyes wide as he glanced at Acnologia.

"No, but your poison may be stripping away the lining of your lung. Did you receive any healing attention before they threw you in that wagon?"

"...No. I... uh... I... I bit the doctor..."

Acnologia would've chuckled had the situation not been... well... dire.

"Very well, come on. You need more help than I can give." Acnologia didn't waste another second. He transformed in a fury of scales and wind, the great dragon rising above the tree's canopy. The young dragon slayer jumped away, turning to sprint towards freedom once again until a black and blue tail blocked his escape. Like a startled rabbit, he pressed against the scales, trembling to see a dragon's maw.

Acnologia hummed, frills rippling in displeasure at the fear he smelled. Painfully slowly, he offered a claw for the boy to climb into. He didn't have much confidence in the boy's ability to stay conscious.

"I said I was a dragon, did I not?" Acnologia scoffed, his voice hissing as he tried to keep it soft.

The child winced at a dragon's voice but slowly stumbled forward. Eyes wide and lungs straining, the boy eventually climbed on, his snake wrapping around his neck as he clung to Acnologia's scales with both hands. The dragon King gently closed his claw, leaving some space for the boy to peek out as he took off.

"Hang on," Acnologia instructed before taking to the sky and orienting himself just a bit off of Magnolia's course. There was no way a regular doctor would be able to handle such intricacies - and now there was the risk of the council. They'd probably be grasping for any evidence to snatch Erik out of his claws. Only one option then... and well... it had been a while since he had paid Porlyusica a visit.

(FUN FACT: Serena was able to intervene with Erik's lacrima transfusion in this universe because Acnologia took his place. When Brain teleported and left Acnologia with no solid lead, Serena was able to pick up the new trail leading to our snake boy - this will have consequences. Divide and conquer baby.

Erik: *having his worst day in 10 years of life* I am vengeance. I am violence. I. Am. Death!

Acnologia: *in his head* Child. Baby. Literal little guy. Itty bitty silly juvenile. A youth. A precious lil snek. A hatchling, fresh outta the egg. A smol guy - come here lil one. Oh, so smol - oh god you're like me but smaller. Oh you're so itty bitty - get your emotional support snake you're coming home with me. No, no, no running away - that's illegal. Is this a kidnapping? Probably. 

Meanwhile:

Serena: *cuffed and on his way back to the council* I just DON'T know how Acnologia knew. How EVER did he know where to look for the new dragon slayer? That's crazy. That's wild. 

Some soldier: You literally told him. We WATCHED you give him directions

Serena: *le gasp* I would NEVER -

Soldier 1: We caught you red-handed.

Serena: Lies! Lies and slander!

Solider 2: We have you caught on lacrima. It's recorded.

Serena: FAKE! FABRICATED! FORGED, IN FACT -

*a lacrima rings*

Solider 2: Hello?.... huh? Um... yeah we have him in custody... what?... Really?... Okay... I guess?

*frees Serena*

Solider 2: Umm... you've been pardoned?? Somehow? You still need to come back with us though. That's an order.

Solider 1: W H A T!? WHAT!? W   H   A   T!?????? PARDONED!? HE'S P A R D O N E D!??

Serena: HAHA! I told you! I'm innocent! I am also departing to do serious council work - definitely serious work! *throws three glitter bombs to hide his escape* HAHAHAHAHAHA SO LONG SUCKkeer r r r s s s s s s s s s s  s   s      s        s        s                                 s                                         

Solider 1: *trying to get the glitter out of their eyes* This system is fucking rigged. I'm not chasing after that menace. You do it.

Soldier 2: *on the ground, a casualty of the glitter bomb* Bro, I'm just trying to get life insurance and a retirement plan together. I don't wanna do it. )