A/N: This story starts during the Enchanted Forest segment of the episode "Desperate Souls" and goes from there. Just a warning, this first and second chapter are just setting up for later things, so they might not have as much action.

Disclaimer: I don't own Once Upon a Time of any of their characters. I only own my opinions of those characters and the things I make up.

*Revision Announcement* This first chapter has been revised and re-posted. It might still not be my best, but I think it's an improvement on the first version, and it definitely cleaned up the dialogue, especially on the second half of this chapter.

Part One: Loss And Gain

Chapter One: Desperate Souls

In all the years I've been blessed-and cursed- with magic, I cannot recall ever wanting to use it so cruelly and so mercilessly on a man, that I shake with pure rage when I'm held back.

I also never recall allowing some mortal man to hold me back, and that in itself nearly causes me to completely lose any shred of self-control I pretend to possess. I guess there's a first time for everything.

The situation began like this: three days ago I was approached by a man who 'required my unique skill-set' (whether he was referring to my deals and other affairs with magic, or my reputation as a pirate- and therefore, warrior- he didn't specify until later). Apparently one of these reputations preceded me to the small town where I'd stopped for a drink in the local bar, and this poor sap, a local farmer, was desperate enough to approach me and strike a deal.

The deal was simple enough; if I could get rid of a unicorn that the farmer swore was eating his crops, and weave a couple spells to ensure that he had an ample harvest for years to come, he would direct me to a certain magical dagger he'd heard I'd been interested in.

I was intrigued, to say the least, and had neither a particular plot to nurture at the time or the energy to seek excitement by knocking a couple of the local bullies' heads around. (It's become one of my favorite- and rather amusing- pass-times, as it helps keep my combat skills sharp and helps to satisfy my deeply-rooted hate for such people). So, I decided to entertain the adventure.

The plan, much like the deal, was nothing complicated; meet him in the forest at the edge of town in three days, just before dawn, and he would lead me to his farm from there. I didn't question his secrecy; in a small town, rumors fly fast, and I doubt he would like people to learn that he needs help from 'one of those magic-wielding vermin' (as I heard one of the townspeople put it). And so, as planned, I find myself on a road leading out of town in the wee hours of the morning. What we didn't plan on, however, was the townsman and his son who fleeing the village. The farmer had yanked me into the bushes (I was very close to breaking the hand he laid on me) before we could be seen. Though I was not happy with waking up before dawn just to be manhandled into thorny bushes (this farmer was lucky I had nothing better to do) I remained silent. At first, I thought the pair would just pass us by. They stopped and handed something to a beggar I had barely noticed, but other than that they looked like they would wonder by uninterrupted- until a certain conscription officer and his lackeys rode up.

I've spent my life around men like him, and I recognize the type immediately; the cruel, predatory look in his eyes, the arrogant set of his jaw, the way he sat in the saddle as though everyone else was below him and he knew it. From our hiding place, with my hearing, I could easily make out the insults the officer threw at the crippled man, and they set my blood boiling; the names he started out with, though not polite, were bearable, but then the officer was telling the boy things about his father that a boy should never have to hear.

I'd almost leapt from the bushes when the officer ordered the man to kiss his boot.

My anger peaked then; no one should be treated like this. I might intimidate clients sometimes, but forced groveling is a whole other level, and it was made all the more despicable that the officer seemed to delight in doing it in front of the man's son.

The man was trapped, we all knew it. He did as the officer asked, making my gut twist in anger and sympathy. I studied the officers smile, imprinting the image in my mind so I can find him later and take my time in wiping that cruel grin from his face. When the officer landed a sharp kick to the man's side, I actually did leap out of the bushes, surging forward, planning on teaching that bastard about the humility he seemed to think others should show to him. The farmer was faster than I gave him credit for, though, grabbing my shoulder and yanking me back down.

And now, here I am, huddled in the foliage on the side of the road, the peasant's hand tight on my shoulder, trying to force down deeply-rooted rage.

"He's just a coward spinner. He's not worth it." the farmer hisses, hand still on my shoulder. I slowly turn my head to glare at it, and I'm sure my face gives the impression that I plan to cut it off- an idea that I take into consideration. His face pales slightly, and he quickly jerks the limb away, running it shakily through his hair.

"Neither are you." I almost add mate, but keep myself from relapsing into my hometown accent. My mentor engraved into me the phrase, the apprentice reflects on the master, so you shall speak properly. Not something I always follow, but no one is perfect. "And yet here I am, helping you out."

I turn back, prepared to jump to the spinner's defense, only to find the officers' horses disappearing down the road and the beggar from earlier helping the man limp away. We wait for the group to move out of sight before rising to our feet. The farmer looks down, picking leaves off his clothes with a relieved sigh.

"That was close. We're lucky they didn't see y-" his voice cuts off as I bring my fist down across his face with all my might. There's enough force behind that punch to rival that of the strongest men, augmented by magic and other things, and the stunned farmer stumbles back and trips, sprawling on the ground. I glare down at him, fighting the urge to wrap my hands around his throat and squeeze until he quits struggling. I chase any murderous thoughts from my head. Killing clients before they can pay up is, as my father's phrase went, bad form.

"Never hold me back again." I growl, voice quiet but nonetheless dangerous. "You have no right to decide who needs help and who doesn't." Any color drains from his face at the sudden change in events, the evident threat in my voice.

"I-It won't happen ag-gain." he stammers. I allow an ominous smile to cross my face, hiding my amusement; it's always entertaining to see how drastically things shift when people remember the actions behind whatever moniker they know me by.

"No. It won't. Now, where's this unicorn?"

I'm pleasantly surprised when we spot the unicorn- I'm surprised it's a real one, not an exaggeration or mis-identification- the second the farm comes into sight. I thought, in the event that it was real, that I'd have to go through the trouble of tracking the beast, and not having to find it effectively halves the amount of time I expect to spend on the project.

"There it is. Get that beast off my property." the farmer growls. I push down the mild annoyance that rises at the thought that he thinks he can give me orders.

"Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but why not do this yourself? Unicorns aren't known for savage maulings."

"It's bad luck, to anger those things. They mess with your heads, make you see things." he replies, making a local sign against evil with his hand.

So he wants me to incur any bad luck for him. How considerate.

"I'll take care of it." I say with a dismissive wave of the hand. The farmer gives me a look I can't quite place, but he obediently turns on his heels and walks away. I look back to the unicorn, smiling. Time to get to work.

An hour later, I knock on the farmer's door. The unicorn, a magnificent black stallion with a horn a foot long, tosses his head impatiently next to me. It hadn't taken me long to befriend the beast; a little magic to relay feelings of friendship, several briberys based in food, and a love for horses made my job relatively easy. I'm starting to feel very good about this deal; my part of it was actually rather fun, and it's gained me an companion and whatever information the man can give me on the dagger.

Once I have the dagger, things might just fall into place. I'll be able to find Tor, and then we'll go wherever the navy has shipped Ian and William off to and be a family for the first time in over a half-decade. Perhaps we'll find a way to break the curse that witch put on me, perhaps we won't, but either way, we'll be together again, like the good old days before Ian enlisted and Tor took off and I buried myself in my studies.

All of it within reach, and so much more attainable after the payment of this deal.

I didn't think I still had this kind of luck.

I'm snapped out of my thoughts when the unicorn, (I'm thinking of calling him Shadow), nudges my shoulder playfully. I smile, summoning an apple from thin air and offering it to my new friend. The farmer, looking rather bored, nearly jumps out of his skin when he spots Shadow over my shoulder.

"What the hell are you doing?!" he exclaims, glaring angrily from me to my steed. "You said you would get rid of it!"

"Yah, as in get it off your land." I say calmly. He stares at me, mouth agape.

"Thats not what I-I didn't mean- what I said was-" he stammers. Then his face twists into a mask of anger. "I meant that you needed to kill it!"

"I don't care what you meant. You are the one who failed to specify the details." I reply coldy. "I simply improvised a way to get the job done, in spite of your incompetence."

"Don't twist my words, witch!"

"Mind your tongue, boy, before I cut out of your head." I snap, the tone holding the same fierceness but laced with a cold malice that few can match. The man takes a step back, as though suddenly remembering just who it is he's dealing with. I'm no timid village woman, to be looked down on and brushed away. I'm a warrior and a sorceress, and the few who've forgotten that didn't live long enough to regret it. He should know better than to anger The Devil's Apprentice. "I've upheld my part of the deal." I say icily. "Now it's your turn."

The farmer glances from me to Shadow, demeanor suddenly nervously submissive. Ah, the wonders a well-conveyed threat can do to a conversation.

"The spells are in place?" he asks, his voice still holding the ghost of a command, but it's considerably subdued.

"As promised. This miserable pig-stye will have a grand harvest for years to come." I promise, allowing my annoyance and contempt for the place to seep into my voice. "Now, for your part of the deal."

"O-of course. I've got something to lead you to it. I-its inside. I'll go get it..." he stammers, and when I nod he disappears inside the small house. I pet Shadow as I allow a triumphant to cross my face. In no time, I'll have the dagger, and it's power with it; I'll be able to get the family back together, maybe even go back to having a normal life if we break my curse. After that, we can have an actual life, maybe start families... At the very least, I can sail with Ian again; despite the annoying childhood nickname that has, by this point, become another title- Davey Jones- I do enjoy it.

Something moves behind me, and in an instant I yank my sword free of it's sheath and whirl to block the blow of the old warhammer the farmer attempts to bring down across my head. Any normal sword would have probably been bent in half, and would have failed miserably at protecting me. But, like me, my sword is anything but ordinary. I lock my arms and channel magic through them, and though they're painfully jarred, the hammer bounces off.

I can't control the cruel, humorless laugh that escapes me then, promising dark things to come. The farmer steps back, pure terror flashing across his face as he sees how easily I deflect his blow, as he registers the dark humor I'm sure he can see in my eyes. A moment of silence passes between us; me, quietly enjoying the fear in his eyes, him panicking. It seems that the more I get to know him, the stupider he becomes; his attack was very ill-conceived, seeing as how we both know who would when in this fight, and seeing as how I'm effectively blocking the house's only exit. Yes, he is either very stupid or very desperate. Either way, the outcome will be the same. I study him for a moment, deciding how I want to play this.

"Are you really stupid enough to think that that sad little attack would kill me?" I ask, voice genuinely curious and head cocked to the side questioningly. He doesn't reply for a moment, just stares back at me, deathly pale.

"What are you going to do to me?" he asks quietly, voice quivering. I smile sweetly. At least he knows there will be consequences, so maybe he's not as dumb as I thought.

"Kill you, of course." I reply. If it's at all possible, he appears to pale even more.

"Please, no, not that. I'll do whatever you ask. Tell you whatever you want to know."

"Yes. You will." I say coldly. "Now start talking. Why'd you attack me?"

"Y-you wanted to know about the dagger... and h-he said that if I killed you he wouldn't... wouldn't make Him..." he stammers, voice cracking.

"Who's 'he'?" I demand; he's not exactly being clear, and I'm not even completely sure if he's talking about two different men.

"The Dark One." the farmer whimpers, and a chill goes down my spine; he's one person I don't want to cross paths with. "His master's henchman found me after you and I met. He said that if I killed you, his lord would forgive me for trying to tell someone where the dagger is."

Ah, so not stupid. Just desperate. I bet he doesn't actually even know anything about the dagger, I think bitterly. I advance silently, sword ready, and the farmer backs up until he hits a wall. I hold my blade against his fat neck and lean in close. "You're scared of him." I say. It's not a question. The farmer nods. "You should be infinitely more scared of me."

"Papa?" A quivering voice behind me asks, and I jump. Not taking the blade from the man's throat, I turn to look at the doorway. Shadow has wandered a good distance away from the house-I can still see him through the doorway, but just barely-and a small boys now stands framed in the door. He can't be more than six, and for once emotion gets the better of me during a deal.

"You have a son?" I ask, glancing back to the man I have pinned against the wall. I find it hard to believe anyone would want to bear his child- he's far from attractive.

"Get out of here, Johny." he hisses to the child, ignoring me and the blade at his throat. Johny just looks at him, mildly afraid and confused. Then he looks at me. "What are you doing with my Papa?" he asks, voice nervous but almost accusing. I glance from the look on his face to the farmer and back, until finally, with a sigh, I sheath my blade and step away.

It is said that I'm a murder, that I'm a monster, that I've committed atrocities and sins that the devil himself would be ashamed of. And that is one hundred percent true. But I am not completely without morals- though I very much wish I was- and there are two things I refuse to do after the childhood I had. One, I refuse to let someone be bullied if I can do anything to stop it.

And I refuse to leave a child fatherless.

My birth father abandoned my older brother and I, tossed us realms away; the man who adopted us, Pops, left me on a ship to raise my eleven-year old baby brother when I wasn't much older myself. I saw what it did to Tor, and I saw what it did to Ian. I'm not going to intentionally inflict that on a boy didn't chose to have such a moronic parent.

Without a word, I turn and stroll out the door. The boy steps aside and lets me out, shooting me a curious look. His eyes, I notice, have lost all their fear, though they still hold a good deal of confusion, and for some reason the absence of any distress relieves me. I whistle, and Shadow trots over, not protesting when I swing onto his back. I tug his mane slightly to get him to turn- something I don't like doing, but I'm left with no other choice, seeing as I don't have bridle. I'm about to spur him forward when a voice stops me.

"Wait!" the farmer exclaims, arriving at the door. "You can't just leave us!" I turn Shadow back to face him.

Watch me.

"Be grateful for your son, because he saved your life today." I growl, glancing at the boy before returning my gaze to the farmer. "I spare you for his sake, but I will not hang around this god-forsaken place any longer."

"If you leave us here, you mercy will have been for nothing." the farmer says. "He'll have the Dark One will kill us. Both of us." I see alarm flash across the boys face, and my blood boils. So far today I've let a man be abused, done a good amount of work with nothing to show for it, have had a mortal try to kill me, have had to spare a man I would immensely enjoy seeing dead; and now I have to protect not one, but two people I don't even know, all because that stupid farmer couldn't keep his mouth shut about the Dark One's dagger.

"Fine." I growl. I raise my hand, calling my magic; the farmer and his son both glow red for a moment as I weave a complex blood-magic barrier over them, fingers dancing for several seconds. Eventually, I let my hand drop, feeling the effects of the price of magic- energy. "There. Now the only magic that can harm either of you is mine." Well, not technically true, but my blood-relatives aren't in Mysthaven, and there's no guarantee that they're mages even if they are.

The farmer looks at me, shocked. "Thank you." he finally says. I snort in reply, then turn Shadow and spur him forward. We gallop back to the road, and my thoughts turn once again to the dagger.

The Kris Dagger, the source of the Dark One's power. If I had known the object I was hunting belonged to that particular wizard, and was not just an enchanted blade, I would have been more cautious about seeking it out. His powers are unlimited, and in a head-on fight I'd lose miserably. As my mentor found out, when he tangled with the dark sorcerer acouple years ago. The descriptions of the mangled body they found still haunts my dreams.

Then again, I don't have to go through the Dark One; I have to go through whoever holds the dagger, and according to the farmer, that isn't the magician. I pull Shadow to a stop, turning to ride back and find out just who it was that threatened the farmer. If I find the henchman, I can find his master, who, if that simpering idiot is correct, possesses the Dark One's will and power.

I've just started following the road back towards the farm, lost in thought, when a hooded form appears directly in front of us. I pull up short just before we run the man over. Though I don't recognize the person himself, it's hard to ignore the dark energy rolling off him in waves. "Tell me, to what do I owe the displeasure, Dark One?" I ask sarcastically. He merely smiles.

A moment of silence stretches between us as we size eachother up. Out of habit, my hand fingers the hunting knife at my belt.

"Unless you have some business with me, get out of my way." I growl harshly. Suddenly, the man disappears. Transportation spell, I think. Quicker than most could manage, I turn in the saddle and hurl the knife behind me. It sticks in the ground not an inch away from the man's boot, closer than I thought I would get, and he jumps. He looks at me with what I assume is shock-its hard to tell with that hood hiding his face-and his hands alight with blue fire.

"Woah, there, mate. I don't want a fight." I say quickly.

"Do you always through knives at people you want peace with?" he asks sarcastically, a teasing quality to his voice. I flinch; it might have been nearly half a decade, but there's no mistaking that voice.

"Zoso." I breathe, swinging from the saddle. "You're... you were dead." I sweep my gaze over him. He's doesn't look much different from before; Zoso de Corbin, the devil in the title The Devil's Apprentice, the sole mentor I had in magic. A friend. And dead for just a few years shy of a decade. "And now you're the Dark One."

"It is a... complicated matter. When this curse first claimed me, there were many who sought my power. It was becoming unsafe. I did what had to be done to disappear."

The phrase when this curse first claimed me sticks out at me. As far as every single tale of the Dark One is concerned, the same person has held that title for decades, centuries even. It begs the question whether or not my teacher has had this affliction the whole time I was being trained; his words certainly imply that, but it's something he never bothered to mention in the nearly-two-decades since we met. Just how well do I really know him? I wonder.

"You could have sent a message." I say, equal parts angry and hurt, something that my tone does not hide. "I held your funeral. I mourned you." Rage is building itself in my chest. "You named me as your heir. I deserved to know if you were still alive!"

It's just a little bit vexing; when he died- faked his death- I inherited everything: books, artifacts, the shop-and-house that had been his residency. He never came back for any of it, and as far as I know nothing ever went missing that might point to him being alive. He just up and left it all; there was nothing, including his apprentice, that he cared enough about to come back for.

I push that thought away; I don't need to deal with it right now. There are more important things to get straightened out first.

"I know, Ellyn. I apologize for whatever it put you through. It was the price of freedom."

"I see that worked out well. Tell me, Zoso, how exactly do you manage to be here? I'm sure whoever holds the dagger doesn't want you wandering around."

He waves it off. "A simple discretion in wording. And while we are on the subject..." He takes a step forward, face darkening, demeanor changing. "Why are you looking for the dagger, Ellyn?" he asks, malice in his voice. I've seen it out of him before, yes, but never directed at me, and it's... surprising.

"What concern is it of yours?" I shoot back, his tone putting me instantly on guard.

"You did not answer my question." he says lowly. Not threateningly, per say, but somewhere near it.

"Cool it, Zoso." I warn, my tone perfectly matching his. I forge on before he can reply. "I heard of a magical dagger, and I came across a man who claimed he knew where it was- and who it belonged too. After I knew it was the Dark One's, I figured that if he knew that much about it, than it's attainable for me. A shortcut to finding Tor, revenge for your death, and power all in one; I had to at least look into it."

Tor was honestly the biggest reason behind it; my half-brother has disappeared, and I'm having trouble tracking him down.

My mentor holds his hands out to his side in a look-around gesture. "You see the price of that power. It is not something I would wish on you."

"That's not your decision, now is it?" I snap without thinking.

"Do not take that tone with me, Ellyn Davina Jones." Comes the snarled reply; a friend though he may be, he was my teacher first.

Was, a voice whispers. You've grown since he died, and he's not your teacher anymore.

When he speaks again, his tone has gentled somewhat; torment, powerful and sharp and agonizing for both of us, enters the depths of his eyes. Anger sparks in me, directed towards whatever has caused this; of everyone I've called family, Zoso has been the most stable, most reliable, and if there's anyone I owe in this life, it's my old teacher.

"If you want this curse, Ellie, than you can have it." Zoso says. "But you should know the price of obtaining it."

"I'm all ears."

"Drive the dagger through my heart."

It comes like a blow to the chest, knocking the air from my lungs and leaving me stunned. My mouth opens and closes wordlessly. How am I suppose to respond to that?

For a minute, I simply gape at him. Then I notice something; his gaze not holding mine, his eyes flickering to the left. I know it's not out of an aversion to seeing my reaction to those words- he has the unsettling habit of meeting a person's eyes far more than is necessary, at the poorest of times. It helps the intimidation factor.

He's bluffing. He's only telling me how to gain his powers because he knows I can't do it.

Sometimes I hate how well he knows me.

"Tell me who holds the dagger, then. Then I can give it to you or kill you with it, and you're happy either way." I add the last part half-sarcastically, to get back at him for using that remnant of sentiment of against me.

Zoso is staring at what must be a very intriguing leaf, refusing to meet my eyes as he says softly, "Give you the identity of my master? My mind is not so dulled, Ellyn."

"It's a simple question."

"And one that, if answered, will lead you to try and kill him."

"Damn right."

"And what will that accomplish, Ellyn?!" Anger comes to him suddenly, at the end of his patience with me, and he finally brings his gaze up to mine. "You will try to kill him, and he will have me kill you!" He deflates then, becoming somber just as quickly. "How am I supposed to live with that, Ellie?"

Zoso looks away with that last sentence, but I see that torment return, raging in his eyes, and I wonder just what his master has had him do, just how much imprisonment has pushed him. Even a blackened soul can be shredded, and his wasn't in tip-top shape when I met him.

I stare at him for a moment, rage rolling through my chest, both at being unable to get him to cooperate and at being unable to bypass his cooperation to kill his master. He lifts his gaze and stares right back, equal steel in his eyes. He's right, and we both know he is. That fact does nothing to quell my anger, but I know that look, and there's no way I'm going to be able to persuade, threaten, or beg him into giving me the information I want.

So I can't kill his enslaver.

It isn't going to stop me from trying to get the dagger back to him.

"Fine, Zoso." I say, hiding away the plan starting to form in my mind as I glance away, replacing my emotions with a mask of not-entirely-fake tired defeat. "Have it your way. I'll be in the area acouple days, if you have the opportunity to come find me again."

He smiles, an expression filled with bitter sadness.

"Of course. I'm sure we'll see each other again soon." He says.

We both know it's a lie.

We hug once more, for a longer time. When we pull apart, the torment is back in his eyes, and I swear he's going to tell me something. Instead, he buries his pain and puts forth the fakest smile I've ever seen out of him.

"It was great seeing you, Ellyn, but I must return before I'm missed." he says. Then he's gone.

I think of the crippled man from this morning being harassed by the conscription officers, and why Zoso would bother to help him. Then I swing onto Shadow and set off to find a certain spinner.