Wendy Fairy Tail Age Novels & Stories

Their leader, Wendy Savage, was already screaming herself hoarse. “That’s my big brother!” Wendy yelled, jumping so hard her blue ponytail whipped wildly behind her. “That’s my brother! Did you see that strike?!” The girls around her laughed and screamed louder, feeding off her excitement. Wendy was impossible to miss. Nineteen years old, electric blue hair styled into a high ponytail, glitter dusted across her cheeks. She was beautiful in a bold, fearless way. She clutched her pom-poms to her chest, eyes shining.

Gwen gave all of them their tasks and they complied without a hitch while Giselle, Leah and Wanda followed Gwen into the woods, away from the clearing. "Can you two just warm up for a while without doing anything lethal? I need to talk to Wanda." Gwen asked her sisters who readily agreed looking at each other challengingly. "What's wrong Gwen?" Wanda asked once they were away from the two. "Wanda? Did your wings come out?" Gwen bluntly chased the topic, making Wanda flustered. "I...Wh...um...no?" Wanda meekly answered. "I guessed it. It's fine. I know fairies grow their wings as soon as they reach the age five just like how wolves have their first shift at the age of four." Gwen said and kno

When Wendy appeared, they both shot to their feet, disbelief written all over their faces. "How could it be Wendy?" Lilian muttered, unable to comprehend. "No, this can't be! She dropped out of school at sixteen..." Around them, whispers of admiration filled the air. "Wow, the genius freshman is finally here! I heard she, like Mr. Hawk, skipped grades and earned a dual master's degree from Harfield at just 16 before she stopped attending school." Jessica sucked in a sharp breath. That was right! Wendy had dropped out of school at 16.

"Shameless scum! How dare you slander my sister! You must have a death wish!” A formidable aura emanated from Wendy as she thrust her sword forward! Damn it! Pushed by emotion, she attacked him rashly. Darryl was amused to see that Wendy would attack him without a second's thought. What surprised Darryl, even more, was that Wendy was extremely powerful! She was a Level Three Martial Saint! She was in a higher rank than the little fairy, Irene. F*ck! How powerful was Fuyao Palace? They seemed to have many Martial Saints!

“I had to climb up myself to get him. And I was sixty-seven at the time!” Wendy must have been in excellent health, if she was climbing trees to rescue her grandson. She hardly looked a day over fifty now; the only marks of her age were the crow’s feet around her eyes and the smile lines edging her mouth, her weathered hands and silver hair. But her sparkling eyes and lithe, upright posture spoke of a woman much younger than her years. Did werewolves age more slowly than humans, I wondered? The thought made my chest tighten a little. Unbidden, images of Darren and I being together slipped back into my mind. I saw myself, much older and hunched, next to Darren—still young and spry, outliving

Secrets that could change everything. "A granddaughter of Wendy Taylor?" Teresa said slowly, her voice tinged with disbelief. Wendy Taylor was a name that carried weight-immense wealth, power, influence. The revelation shook her more than she cared to admit. "And this. son of hers. Saben. Four years old, you say?"

Wendy said. These words pricked Daisy so badly but she just kept her calm. Wendy started chanting some spells inaudibly while she was still holding Jordan. She did it for a while. Then, she heaved a deep sigh of relief and opened her eyes. Everyone just watched her, waiting for her to say something before she finally broke the silence. “He’s not after my kind. I don’t know why he’s after wolf blood witches but he is. I also can’t gain access into his head. As little as he is, he has a lot of memories locked up in his head. I can’t access it.” Wendy said.

Up close, she found Wendy’s round, healthy beauty surprisingly appealing. “How old are you, Wendy?” Mrs. Jones asked. “Twenty-four.” “Good age. And what do you do?” “I… work in a coffee shop.” At that, Mrs. Jones’s brows rose slightly. She had assumed Wendy was some well-bred heiress. A barista was not what she had expected. Though inwardly disappointed, she maintained her polite smile, exchanged a few pleasantries, and then excused them to enjoy the party. Benjamin whisked Wendy back to the floor. He bent close, murmuring in her ear, “My mom likes you.”

I can’t help but tease him a little. “You should dance with Wendy this weekend. Who knows, in three years, maybe she’ll announce you as her mate,” I say, fighting a smile. “You’re not funny, Quirin,” he growls at me. “You’re a year younger than me. She’s three years younger than Kennedy. It’s not that much more of an age difference than what Kennedy and I have. And there are other ranked she-wolves coming of age between now and then. You and I are sort of an in-between generation. There aren’t a lot of she-wolves our age. They’re all about ten years or so younger than we are.”

Weldon opened the lid as the sun set, revealing a delicate girl with two ponytails. With a slender and petite figure, her big, lively eyes looked at everyone, but her face was as pale as a zombie in a movie. "Hello, I'm Wanda. Weldon is my brother!" She stood up from the coffin. The girl was barely 1.5 meters tall. However, Wanda said, "I'm 38 years old this year. After I got sick, I've been like this." Chad was already certain that Wanda was a puppet.