Chapter 1: ghost stories

Summary: In which a promise is made and a promise is broken.

Disclaimer: Fairy Tail is owned by Hiro Mashima.

A/N: The story takes place in a partial AU in which the events of the Tartaros arc did not take place, and Jellal Fernandes, along with the rest of Crime Sorciere, have been officially pardoned.

"And I will show you something different from either

Your shadow at morning striding behind you

Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;

I will show you fear in a handful of dust."

Erza Scarlet is a colossus.

She strides, impenetrable, into the guild each morning, and strides out impassive into the night at the end of each day. Nothing touches her, nothing moves her, and the whispers surrounding her legend only heighten the sense of mystification that surrounds her lithe form.

Erza Scarlet is a symbol.

A symbol of strength, power, unity and hope, standing tall and unbowed on her throne. In the heat of battle, her guildmates say, with the screams of the dying ringing in everyone's ears and the cursed red heat and fire of killing smoking the air, the Titania is a rallying point, the eye of the storm.

How would you capture a motif, note down the importance of the Titania in a handful of words? Erza Scarlet is impressive, powerful, admired respected, adored and idolized. But as she rolls into her cold, quiet bed at night, there could be only one truth left to describe her.

Erza Scarlet is alone.

A thin hyacinth trembled in the breeze, delicate blue-purple blooms peering up cautiously in the harsh April breeze. Above, below and all around stretched a ragged uneven plain, brown furrowed land sprouting pale lilacs touched with the dying hands of snow. An apocalyptic, bleak wasteland- there could be only one possible phrase to describe it. It rose, unbidden, in her head.

I'm out on the dead land.

Erza looked around, her eyes coolly assessing her surroundings, looking for some identification, or better yet, a weapon to use. She reached for her magic, pulling with every nerve in her body for the weighted tug and familiar pink-red sparks. Instead, she found silence and a numb, cold void.

I have no magic. Erza forced herself to remain calm. She had experience with magic-nullifying bindings before, and she was skilled enough in hand to hand combat to be able to defend herself. Still, the absence of her magic, now worn by use and well a part of her being, was chilling in its loss.

Erza. A voice caressed her ears, tiptoeing around her feet, mocking and yet irredeemably sad. Erza. It pronounced her name with the finality of a eulogy, it forced her to her knees.

The breeze picked up to a howling wind, ripping lilacs from their roots and pushing them across the churning air. One draped itself over her eyes like pale fingers, curling over her face, with the hint of apology. The last time anyone touched her like that, thumbs brushing her cheeks she was on a beach with the grainy sand cushioning her back and Jellal hovering above her. His eyes were sorry and bitter and strangely hopeful, and for that moment, just that moment, she closed her eyes and drowned her thoughts and let herself feel-

Erza broke off that line of thought with a definite snap, swallowing down a dark, tangled ball of emotions that she wouldn't, that she couldn't face yet. She reprimanded herself: it wasn't like her to lose track of action in the middle of a battle.

Though this couldn't really be considered a battle, she thought. The wind bit her skin with icy purpose, but it didn't seem threatening, just preoccupied. It pulled at the ends of her hair, lifting up delicate strands for her to see.

"Erza", a voice, the voice, chanted around her head. "Erza, you've got to listen, you can't trust me. Promise me you won't trust me."

"I won't trust you." Her voice sounded raw and quiet in the chill. "I don't even know you."

"Good," and if the voice sounded pensive, even a little amused, what of it? Erza wanted to leave. "Good," it whispered again. "When you wake up, someone will be dead."

"What?" Erza's skin tingled.

"Good," and the Dead Land faded into the night.

Ezra woke up with a strangled gasp, her fingers clawing at the bed sheets, scarlet hair pooling down her shoulders and around her waist like blood.

"It was a dream." Her voice, barely above a murmur, was meant to comfort as much as it was to reaffirm. "Just a dream."

She swung her legs over the sides of her bed and stood, feeling the cold of the marble floor leech away the warmth of her feet. This was her room, and her bed, but with the arch, silvery moonlight pooling through the gaps in the curtains, it felt as strange as the Dead Land, where she had made a promise to a stranger.

Erza quickly slipped out of her nightclothes and pulled on a shirt, buttoning it up halfway before giving up and letting her magic do it for her. Her magic, was comforting like meeting a new friend of stepping into warm sunlight. It was back, as real and dependable as ever. She sighed in small relief. Erza felt her hair weighted, heavy, and hanging with secret down her shoulders and skimming the small of her back, and with a shudder she scooped it all into her hands and tied it up loosely.

It was before dawn when Erza walked out of Fairy Hills, and the air felt crisp and full of promise. Magnolia was beautiful in the pre-sun silence, mystic and almost ethereal, a far cry from its bustle and noise during the gold drenched day. The cobblestones beneath Erza's feet steadied her as she walked, as much a familiar presence as her magic. Home, everything whispers softly to her, you're home. Returning to the city which she had lived in since she was a tiny, barely- nine slave girl was perhaps more peaceful than anything Erza had ever known, except perhaps spending a quiet afternoon in her room, polishing her armor.

Fairy Tail was quiet in the morning as well, imbued with a dignity that would be hard pressed to find in a few hours, when the guild hall was filled with her rambunctious, yelling, cheering guildmates. Erza smiled slightly: even though they were spectacularly exasperating at times, they were her family, and they were a good one.

This early, Erza thought, the guild might even be empty. Or perhaps Mirajane was standing at the bar counter as usual, polishing glasses and wrapping her poisonous magic under yet another layer of sweet, crystal smiles. 'Oh, Erza! You're early today!' she would say.

Erza had hated Mirajane, she remembered, hated her with a sour, burning intensity. But underneath all that hate and contempt was regret, and maybe even an embarrassing fear that someone understood, someone else understood, how it felt to be betrayed by someone they loved.

There was no point dwelling in the past, though. Erza pushed open the door to her guild expecting silence and maybe a new job. Instead, she got a roomful of serious faces and news of a murder.

"The victim was around 40 years old. Divorced, two children. The local Rune Corps say they found her at around 3 A.M. in the morning, in her regular residence located in Petunia. Her throat had been slit from ear to ear. There was some bruising underneath her left eye, indicating that a struggle may have taken place prior to her murder." Master Makarov paused, clearing his throat. "Judging by the temperature of the body, the estimated time of death is around 2:30 A.M."

"Murdered at home with her children sleeping in the next room." Lucy shuddered delicately, no doubt thinking about her own empty house. "Who would do something like this?"

"More importantly," Natsu stretched luxuriantly, eyes dark with sleep, "why should we be bothered? Regular murders are handled by the Rune Corps. We're a wizarding guild."

Lucy glared at the dragonslayer, but Gray nodded his head pensively. "Flame Brain's right, you know?" Realizing the guild's shock because he just agreed with Natsu, Gray flushed and took off his shirt. Feeling comforted, he continued. "I mean, it's not really our specialty, is it?"

Makarov smiled without humor. "While that's true, the client organization has put in a specific request for our guild." Raising his hand to still Natsu's further protests, the guildmaster looked down again at his thin folder of notes. "This case shares the same features with two others, one of which occurred two weeks ago, and the other half a year ago. The first was the killing of a 60 year old shopkeeper in Lilac, and the second was the murder of a 20 year old teacher in Sunflower. All three were killed in the same method: their throats were slit."

Natsu looked confused. "So what?"

Makarov sighed. "There is one other connecting feature between the three." He looked up, straight at Erza. "The organization that contacted us was the PTSD Aid Association: Bonded Labor Division. The three victims were slaves in the Tower of Heaven."

She was drowning.

All around her, Erza's guildmates were murmuring to her or each other, shooting sympathetic glances. But Erza didn't notice any of it. There was a strange, muted buzz in her ears and a prickly heat in her throat.

After all the years I put into putting the Tower behind me, it just has to come back again and again. For one irrational instant, Erza felt like screaming. What have I done to deserve it? What have I done?

Her knees were shaking, but when Erza spoke, her voice was calm and steady. "I see. But why Fairy Tail?"

Makarov looked sorry, perhaps for springing a shock like that on her then standing back to watch her shatter. Erza shifted her chin imperceptibly. I don't want your sympathy.

"After your fight with Miss Mizakuchi in the Grand Magic Games, the general public became aware of your previous… origins. The fight was televised," he added, somewhat lamely. "The PTSD Aid Association feels that being a former slave and a powerful mage, you would be able to provide sensitive protection- that is to say, defend the members of the association in Gardenia while remaining aware of their wants, needs and fears." Makarov paused again and looked at her, but this time there was no sympathy in his eyes: only level determination. "Keep in mind that though the Association has requested for you personally, this request is, like all others, optional."

Erza swallowed thickly. She was, she was what? Ungrateful? Shocked? Scared? Ashamed? Ever since setting foot in Fairy Tail, Erza had done her best to forget the Tower. Even when, after her fight with Kagura, letters began pouring in from fellow slaves, questioning, pleading, curious letters. Erza gathered them by the bundle and hid them under her mattress, where she hoped they would never see the light of day again. It wasn't as if she was disgusted, Erza knew she had no right to be, but some small part of her was petrified that there were other people who knew the things she knew.

From the very start, Erza had isolated and downsized her grief, burying it deep away in the crevices of her armor. When Master Makarov had offered counselling with a fatherly pat on the back, she had refused politely but firmly. Erza thought, or rather hoped, that if she ignored the Tower for long enough, it would disappear from her life, taking all her heartbreak with it. But it didn't leave, it crept around her dreams at night, ghosted in her ears each day, and laughed as she walked 'you can never forget me, you can never deny me, I am a part of you.'

Erza was a sinner, she knew this. This job wasn't just a chance to save lives, it was also a chance to repent in a small way, to come to terms with her terrified apathy.

"I'll take the job." Her voice rang clearly in the silent room. "Um…" Erza looked questioningly at Natsu, Gray and Lucy. "Do you want to…"

There was a moment of frightening silence. Then Natsu smiled toothily. "Of course we're coming! D'you think we'd let you go off on an adventure without us?" Behind him, Lucy smiled reassuringly.

Makarov cleared his throat. "Just one more thing." The guild groaned loudly. Erza glared threateningly, and the groaning stopped dead. "The Association would appreciate more mages of Erza's origins to be present…"

Erza loved Master Makrov, she really did. The man was the closest thing she had to a father. But seeing the normally loud and confident man tiptoe carefully around her past like it was a live bomb irritated her.

"They want more ex- slaves?" Erza shrugged. "Fine. I'll ask Milliana, she could probably contact Wally and Sho as well. And…" It was Erza's turn to hesitate. She plunged ruthlessly ahead. "And I'll see if I can find Jellal."

Lucy, Gray and Natsu looked at her incredulously. Behind her, Erza could feel Makrov, Gajeel and Juvia burn stares into her back. She raised her shoulders and stood firmly.

"Erza." Gray's voice was sharp. "I don't think the PTSD Aid Association would appreciate Jellal there, considering that it was because of him that most of them have PTSD in the first place."

Erza narrowed her eyes, ready to defend herself, but before she could, Mirajane piped up from the bar counter.

"I think Erza's right. Since Jellal spent the most time in the Tower, he might know as to why former slaves are being targeted, and he's a powerful mage, so he fits the job description. Besides, it's possible that Jellal may need some counselling as well." Mirajane smiled at Erza, but it wasn't sweet and unassuming. It was small and sharp, the type of smile she used to wear before she would deliver a venomous punchline to a cruel joke. We need to talk, her smile said.

"I'll give you till the end of today to contact all those you see fit, Erza." Master Makarov was all business again. "Tomorrow, you leave for Gardenia."

Erza nodded. Her stomach felt empty and fragile, her back was a tangled ball of nerves. I'm going to meet other slaves. I'm going to see Wally and Sho. I'm going to see Jellal. Erza realized that she had been staring blankly at the wall, about the same time as she realized that Mirajane was walking towards her with sharp, clicking steps. She grabbed Erza around elbow and propelled her towards the open door, and out into the bright Magnolia sunlight. Erza blinked, squinting her eyes carefully.

"Erza," Mirajane looked serious. "Listen, I know that your top priority is the mission, you're not stupid, I know that. But I need to tell you this." Mirajane ran a thin hand through her porcelain hair. "I saw you and Jellal during the Grand Magic Games. I saw the way he looked at you."

Erza remembered the Grand Magic Games. She remembered Jellal brushing her hand when both teams gathered to discuss strategy, she remembered his palm on the small of her back. Most of all, she remembered the way he said her name, Erza, beautiful and terrible at the same time. He whispered her name like it was religion, like it was his last salvation.

A man with a "fiance" shouldn't call a girl's name like that.

People had made Erza feel angry, scared and empty. People had made Erza feel happy, like the warm glow she felt in Fairy Tail, surrounded by her team. Compliments made her flustered, praise vaguely embarrassed. But when Jellal mouthed her name with a vague twist in his mouth and her skin burnt in dark, sticky heat? No one else made her feel quite like that.

"Erza." Mirajane looked serious. "Just, be careful, okay? I don't want you to get hurt."

"I'm not going to get hurt." Erza's voice sounded cold, even though her skin burned. "Don't worry, Mirajane, I'll be fine."

"Okay," Mirajane looked relieved. "That's all I wanted to say." Then her expression changed, a devilish smirk growing on her face. "Although, you know, if you do cave in and do the dirty, I want details, got it?"

Oh, Mavis.

"Mirajane."

"Okay, okay!" Mirajane composed her features into a softer smile. "Thank you, Erza."

Erza nodded. "Can I leave now?"

Mirajane giggled delicately. "Of course!"

Erza pushed open the door to her guild and slipped into the cooler, blessed darkness. Be careful? If all the years hating and loving and pining after Jellal had taught her anything, it was that it was impossible to be careful. She reached towards the guild communications lacrima, feeling as if she had already broken her promise.

A/N: So there you have it, the first chapter! The idea for this story had been bouncing around my head for a while now, but I never had the courage to write it.

I just love Erza, I think she's a great, well developed character, and she really deserves her popularity! I wrote this story to give some closure to what I feel is a gaping hole in her personality: her time in the Tower of Heaven. After the ToH arc, Erza's past was alluded to, but quickly lost any gravity with both her and her guildmates. After suffering through an experience as traumatizing as slavery in her past, and being forced to relive it as a young adult, I feel that Erza must have undergone some mental strain, and would probably suffer from PTSD. This story is a chance for her to come to terms with her past, and maybe even accept it.

A really important thing I had to keep in mind while writing this was that Erza is a lot more than a former slave: she's a mage, a tactician, a leader and arguably a pillar of her guild. Juggling both parts of her identity, her strengths and her weaknesses, was incredibly challenging, and I hope I did an adequate job.

The main pairing in this fic will be Jerza. Jerza was my first OTP, and remains a pairing very close to my heart. But when I trace the course of their relationship in the manga, I realized that Jellal and Erza's relationship, while beautiful and heartbreaking, is incredibly messed up. THIS IS NOT IN ANY WAY BECAUSE OF A FLAW IN THEIR CHARACTERS. It is instead a natural outcome of their extremely traumatic and difficult past. Through the course of this story, I'd like to take their mutual attraction and develop it into the base for a future, stable life together. This is why, for all intents and purposes, their relationship will move VERY SLOWLY. Please, dear readers, be patient with me. I promise lots of good stuff later ;)

Okay, now that all that is off my chest, please don't forget of read and review! Feedback, criticism, flames, I'll take 'em all!