Author's Note 1: The Fairy Mythos Series is a non-profit fanfiction series.

Fairy Tail and Fairy Tail Series II are all owned by A-1 Pictures, Satelight, Bridge Madman Entertainment, Funimation TXN, Kodansha, and Hiro Mashima.

Any original characters and concepts are owned by Navek or xpegasus.

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Chapter 7: Blood Feud

Years Ago…

As the sun set over the village of Doblin, a young boy and his father sat together on a hill. The boy held his father's hand as their eyes pointed toward the horizon.

"Desmond."

"Ya, papa?"

"…Can you tell me how the sun looks today?"

"Course, papa."

Present…

Desmond began his usual morning routine. Brushing his teeth, picking out which hat he was going to wear that day, and checking to see if he had started to grow facial hair.

'Dang nabbit, not a single hair,' Desmond thought with a sigh as he looked in the mirror. 'At this rate, I'll never grow a beard.'

With a defeated sigh, the dirty-blond teen put away his desire to grow a glorious beard and continued his routine. After getting dressed, he opened a small chest on top of the dresser. Inside was lapis lazuli pendant set into a piece of silver. Overall, it quite an ordinary and unremarkable thing, like something one would find collecting dust in an antique store. But to Desmond, it was more precious to him than the most expensive of diamonds. He rolled it over in his hand, feeling his father's initials, 'J.T.,' engraved on the back. After a moment, he looked up at the clock and put the pendant away, heading out to start his day with Lester.

And then...

"Holy Shit," Lester exclaimed as he and Desmond walked through the streets of Crocus. With the weekend upon them, the students of Avalon Academy were free to explore the capital and the campus without any supervision. As such, Lester decided to tour Fiore's massive capital city, with Desmond as his guide.

The two decided to forgo their uniforms for casual wear on their day out. Lester wore a purple button-up shirt, jeans, and white sneakers; Desmond wore an unbuttoned red & black flannel shirt with a white undershirt, jeans, brown boots, and one of his many cowboy hats.

And what were the two doing right now? Exploring the Hall of Heroes, a museum dedicated to the heroic legacy of Fiore's Soldiers, Knights, Wizards, and others worthy of the title 'Hero.' Currently, they were looking at an immaculate painting of Samuel the Brave, the first Rune Knight in Fioran history. The painting showed Samuel leaping into the air, his sword raised and ready to strike down a Diasian War Golem.

"There's something awe-inspiring about this painting, you know?" Lester said to his friend, although the cowboy seemed rather disinterested in the painting of Samuel.

"It's…alright," the dirty-blond said blandly before he turned to the painting next to it. The piece was a haunting painting of a knight clad in black armor. The knight stood in the center of a bloody and chaotic battlefield. The knight's posture was tired, yet determination seemed to radiate from them. Lester read aloud the plague under the painting.

"Black Chaos: Dedicated to the memory and mystery of the Black Knight. Through their name may be lost, let us never forget their heroism," the brown-haired boy said. "Why do you like this one? It's kind of creepy."

Desmond just shrugged. "Not sure; maybe it's 'cause you don't see pictures of the Black Knight as often as other heroes."

The two continued their tour to an observation perch, Lester looking through one of the telescopes. It truly amazed him how big the Crocus was. To put it in perspective, one apartment complex square was almost the size of Doblin Village in its entirety. It was incredible and terrifying to move from a village with only a few thousand residents to a city with over three million people. He continued to look around until he saw a rather impressive site on a nearby mountain.

On top of the summit sat an open-air coliseum of grey stone. At its entrance was a massive archway. On top of the coliseum's outer wall were four massive pedestals, one in each cardinal direction, and on each pedestal stood a statue holding a staff. And even from this distance, Lester could tell they were statues of four of the Firsts.

"What is that?"

"That's Domus Flau," Desmond explained. "It's mostly used for Wizard Duels, but it's also used for the Rune Knight's wargames, festivals, and sometimes the circus will set up there if they get permission."

"Okay, but why is it so freakin' huge?"

"Well, it's open to the public," the dirty blond stated. "I even saw a duel a month ago and it was pretty badass."

"Huh. Maybe I should check one out." Lester said. The two started to walk down the steps of the observatory. But as they did so, Lester accidentally bumped into someone. "Geez, sorry about that."

"Oh, it's no problem," they said. Lester looked up to see they were a boy about his and Desmond's age. He had wavy, shoulder-length black hair, a slightly tan complexion, and silver eyes. His outfit consisted of a blue t-shirt with the phrase 'Lady Luck' on it, a pair of brown gloves, dark blue jeans, and a pair of black boots. The boy then looked at the two with a curious expression. "Say, haven't I seen you two somewhere else?"

The two friends looked at each other, neither one of them recognizing the stranger.

"That's right, Professor Harold's Trigonometry Class," the stranger said.

"Really?" Lester said as he tried to think back to the students in that class. A look of realization dawned on his face when he remembered one student falling asleep and slamming his head on his desk. The class had burst into a fit of laughter, much to the boy's embarrassment and Professor Harold's chagrin. "Oh, yeah. You're head slam guy." Lester stated, making the stranger blush and Desmond sigh.

"Yup, that's me," the black-haired teen said with a chuckle before holding his hand out. "Let me properly introduce myself. My name's Asher Zilberstein."

"Lester Mayfield," the bespectacled teen said, taking Asher's hand.

"Desmond Trotter," the dirty blond said as the two also shook hands. Asher's grip was tight around his hand, Desmond almost winced before the black-haired teen let go. "Geez, you've gotta strong grip."

"Thank you, I do a lot of physical training for my magic," Asher said with a grin. "So, what're you guys up too?"

"Just takin' a tour of the capital," Lester replied. "How about you?"

"Eh, I'm just wandering around, browsing the shops for a birthday gift for my mom."

"Huh. Well, I'm looking for some souvenirs to send to my folks back home," the bespectacled teen stated. "Why don't ya come with us. Maybe some of the stores will have something she would like."

"How kind of you," Asher replied as he began to follow the two friends. They explored a few of the shops, from magic item shops to curios stands. And while Lester found of a bunch of stuff to send back to his parents, Asher wasn't so lucky. But while they were looking, the two friends never noticed the looks Asher would send Desmond's way.

Eventually, the three found themselves in a jewelry shop, figuring that Asher could find something nice for his mom. As the three looked around, a case full of deep blue gemstone jewelry caught Desmond's eye.

"Hey, Des, what'd you find?" Lester asked as wandered over to his friend, heavy bags filled with trinkets and knick-knacks jingling in his hands. Asher followed a few steps behind.

"Aw, I see you boys found something you like," said a portly saleswoman with bright green hair in a black and gold dress. "Everything in this display case is made of pure lapis lazuli mined and imported from the kingdom of Tarune." The woman smiled as she brought out a lustrous necklace.

"Wow, I'm no jewelry expert but that's pretty stunning," Lester said. "Hey, Desmond, isn't that same gem as your pendant?" Lester asked offhandedly mentioned, getting Asher's attention.

"Yeah, but mine ain't that fancy-lookin'," the dirty-blond replied.

"Excuse me, you have a lapis lazuli pendant?" Asher asked.

"Yup. It's a keepsake my pa gave me when I got in ta Avalon," Desmond said before turning back to Lester. As the two continued to talk, their black-haired accomplice was pondering something. He then looked down at his watch.

"Well, I've got some homework I need to finish. I'll figure something out later," Asher said. He waved Lester and Desmond goodbye and walked off. "Thanks for helping me out, guys. See you two in class."

"See ya," Lester said before he and Desmond continued to look at jewelry. As they did so, the black-haired teen's face shifted into a hard scowl.

And then…

"…so now I'm up to three Roar spells before passing out," Wendy said with a smile. Currently, the small Dragon-Slayer was relaxing in Crystal's room, talking about her recent training with Jacob. However, the black-haired girl was only half-listening from under a veritable mountain of notes covering almost every square inch of her desk.

"Uh huh," she replied, rhythmically tapping her pencil against her desk before erasing a sentence. The Crystal-Make wizard tried writing something else, only to get frustrated and erase it once more.

"You alright?" Wendy asked with a head-tilt.

"Uhhhhhh," Crystal groaned before slamming her head on her desk. "Writer's block fucking sucks."

She then looked at a framed photograph on her desk of an old man with a beard, ponytail, and the same squinted eyes she had. 'How did you do it, Grandpa?'

"Maybe I can help," Wendy said as she approached the desk and picked up one of the papers. She then started to read it. "'The two continued to clash…tongues, their passions becoming hotter and hotter.' What?"

"That's supposed to be the big, romantic kiss scene, but it's so bland," Crystal bemoaned.

"Well, can't you just rewrite it?"

"I have. You're reading at the twenty-seventh version of that scene."

"…Oh." Wency looked around the room awkwardly, trying to think of something to say. "Um, maybe I could get us something to drink?"

"Sure," Crystal said, giving an unenthusiastic wave as Wendy and Carla left the room.

While that was going on, Desmond was helping Lester carry a package towards the school mailroom. The gunslinger though it was a great idea for his friend to send his parents some gifts from the capital. Unfortunately, Lester went a bit overboard, filling up a box with so many knick-knacks he needed help carrying it.

"You know, I think a few photos would've been fine," the dirty blond said.

"Pfff, that's what everyone sends back home," Lester said as the two entered the registration office (which also served as the Academy's post office). Behind the desk sat Bart, a chubby man with short, dark red hair and pale yellow eyes behind thick glasses. He wore a crisp white button-up shirt and rainbow suspenders. As usual, he was reading a book with a blasé expression on his face, even as the two dropped the large package on his desk.

"Heya, Bart! I'm sending this to my folks back in Doblin," the bespectacled teen explained with a cheerful smile. The clerk looked at him apathetically before reaching down into his desk. And after a few seconds, Bart placed a pile of papers on the desk that almost as tall as the box itself. "…what?"

"Fill out all the marked forms and then I'll be able to ship it out," Bart explained as he went back to reading.

"Okay, but is all this really necessary?"

"Consider the size of the package, yes," the clerk explained without even glancing up. "Better get started if you want it to get it sent before dinner."

Lester looked at the pile and groaned.

"Well, I got some studyin' to do," Desmond said before heading out. "Good luck with that, Lester."

"I guess," the bespectacled teen said as took a pen from the desk and began to fill out the paperwork.

Back with Desmond, he really was heading back to his room to study. But as he turned the corner towards his dorm room, he noticed someone leaning against his door. As he approached it, the gunslinging teen saw that it Asher. The black-haired teen saw this and smiled.

"Well, it's about time you showed up," the silver-eyed teen said as he stood up straight.

Desmond raised an eyebrow at the black-haired teen. "Asher? The heck ya doin' here?"

"Oh, nothing much, just looking, minding own business. I found something very interesting," he said before reaching into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. Or rather, something wrapped in a handkerchief. "Tell me, does this look familiar to you?" Asher held out his hand and pulled away the cloth.

Desmond's eyes widened as a pendant, his pendant, rested in Asher's hand. "How the hell did you get yer hands on my pendant?"

"Oh, is this your's?" Asher asked with mock confusion. "I didn't peg you as jewelry kind of guy. Delicate little thing though. I could probably break it just by squeezing it too hard." The black-haired teen said as ran a finger over the pendant.

"GIVE IT BACK!" Desmond screamed, surprising Asher by his sudden outburst. He saw the anger in the dirty-blond's eyes, exactly what he was looking for.

"This trinket really means that much you? How about this, I'll let you go and get your guns, then you follow me," Asher said. "But if you try anything…"

The silver-eyed teen then clenched the pendant, letting Desmond get the message. With an uncharacteristic scowl on his face, the Guns Wizard unlocked the door and walked into his room, grabbing his belt. After placing Tango, Waltz and every bullet clip he could on it, Desmond strapped the belt around his waist and returned to face Asher. The black-haired boy smirked, he placed the pendant in his pocket and motioned Desmond to follow him.

However, neither noticed a certain pair of eyes watching them from across the courtyard.

Their silent walk brought them out of Avalon Academy and into Crocus. There were a few times where Desmond thought of just shooting Asher in the back and be done with it. But he wasn't that kind of person and he was worried he might damage the pendant as well.

Soon enough, their journey brought them to a place that he and Lester had seen earlier; Domus Flau. The two teens approached the stadium, seeing a fence blocking anyone from entering. But that didn't deter Asher, who simply leaped over the fence and landed on the other side.

"Come on! You want your pendant back, don't you?" Asher asked. Without saying anything, Desmond leaped over the fence as well, following the black-haired teen until they were at the center of the arena, the sun setting in the distance.

"I think this will do just fine."

"Look, what's this all about?" Desmond asked, his patience wearing thin. "Why the hell did ya bring me out here?"

Hearing this, Asher's face became neutral. "You're really clueless, aren't you? Well then, how about a history lesson? Twenty-Five years ago, there were two wizards in the Fairy Tail guild; a sharpshooter and a brawler. They were the best of friends and were part a formidable team that took on the most dangerous jobs available. One day, one of them convinced their team to take on an S-Class Quest, one with a rewarded that dwarfed all their other jobs. Some of them were nervous, but they'd taken on S-Class Quests before so, in the end, they all went…but the mission went to hell in a handbasket as soon as it started. What was supposed to be two monsters turned out to be family of over a dozen. They barely got out alive. Some of them were stuck in the hospital weeks, but no one was killed. When they got to the Guild Hall, the sharpshooter started screaming at the brawler telling him it was his fault they almost got killed, that everything went wrong because of him. The two got into an argument that could be heard throughout the entire Guild Hall. Half of the team sided with the sharpshooter, and the other half with the brawler, and in the end the brawler and those that defended him left the Fairy Tail and joined another guild."

"Alright, what hell does this have ta do with me?" Desmond asked

"I'm getting to that," Asher growled. "Years later, the brawler and the sharpshooter's teams met up again, staying at the same inn for the night. With tensions running high the teams started screaming at each other so loud the whole inn heard them. Finally, the sharpshooter challenged the brawler to a duel to settle the score once for all. But that very duel was the end of both their careers; in the end, the sharpshooter was blinded, and and the brawler was paralyzed from the waist down. After that day, they both were forced to retire and their teams disbanded."

Realization slowly crept on Desmond's face as Asher spoke, but he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "No way, you're not saying…"

Asher's mouth twisted into a dark, satisfied grin. "Finally getting it, Trotter. The sharpshooter was your father, Jeremiah Trotter, and the brawler was my father, Ephraim Zilberstein."

"No way," Desmond said, his voice shaking. "There's no way in hell that's true; yer just a dirty, rotten, lyin' varmint!"

"Oh, and how would you know that?" Asher asked with venom in his voice. "This all happened before we were born. Maybe my father just trusted me enough to tell me the whole truth, unlike your's."

Desmond scowled and clenched his fists. "Alright, fine. Maybe ya are tellin' the truth, but what's that got to do with me? Like ya said, this all happened before we were born."

"Isn't it obvious," the black-haired teen replied. "This is payback."

"Payback? But this ain't got nothin' ta do with us."

"Not for me, asshole!" Asher suddenly shouted. "This is for my father. I'm going to repay all the pain and misery he's felt over these years a thousandfold." The black-haired teen smirked. "But don't worry, I've got no intentions of going after your bastard of a father; attacking blind man doesn't seem right to me. I'm just going to turn you into a bloody smear across the floor; that will hurt more than anything I could do to him physically."

"Yer crazy," Desmond said.

Asher said nothing and simply leveled a glare at the dirty-blond. He then took out the pendant and placed it in the entryway to the arena, far away from where they'd be fighting. "Let's make this simple. You beat me, you get your keepsake back."

"And if ya beat me?" Desmond asked as he reached for his guns. Asher said nothing as indigo magic began to flow around his arms.

"As I said, if I beat you, you'll be a bloody smear on the floor!" He proclaimed as the magical energy formed into two indigo magic circles, one in front of each fist.

The two teens said nothing as the sun set further and further while the wind blew around them. After a few seconds of silence, Asher was the first one to move, running straight towards Desmond. Ever ready, the dirty blond took out Tango and aimed at his foe.

"Guns Magic: Flame Bullet!"

But as the mystically-charged bullet flew through the air, Asher closed his eyes for a second. When he opened them, his eyes were now glowing with indigo mana. Without slowing down at all, the black-haired teen titled his head slightly, Desmond's flame bullet whizzing past him and hitting the coliseum's wall. The dirty-blond barely had any time to register that as Asher closed the gap.

"Re-Quip: Lightning Knuckle!"

The magic circles engulfed his arms, manifesting a pair of black & yellow gauntlets with electricity sparking around them. Acting quick, Desmond attempted to pull out Waltz, but Asher deflected his arm and socked the dirty-blond across the face, shocking him as well.

Getting back up and spitting out some blood, Desmond aimed Waltz and quickly channeled his mana into it.

"Guns Magic: Frost Bullet Medley!"

The behatted teen unloaded half a clip of frost-enchanted bullets, but like before, Asher evaded the shot completely before channeling his once again.

"Re-Quip: Phantom Knuckle!"

His new gloves were dark green boxing gloves with magic gems on top of them before he started his next chant.

"Phantom Knuckle Storm!" He exclaimed before moving each of his arms in an arc, creating phantom duplicates of the gloves. He punched forward, launching the duplicate fists like missiles. Desmond attempted to run and evade the long-range spells. At first, he dodged a few of them, but some the projectiles managed to hit him in the forehead, left leg and stomach.

As he was hit by the phantom gloves, Desmond grit through the pain and aimed Tango at the ground near him.

"Flame Bullet Medley!" The dirty-blond teen shouted before spinning a circle, creating a ring of fire around him.

'This should give me cover to reload,' Desmond thought as he reached for a clip.

But as he was reloading his guns, Desmond suddenly saw another barrage of phantom knuckles burst through the flames, hitting him on point. 'What the fuck?! How in blazes did he hit me?! He shouldn't be able to see me inside this fire ring!'

Realizing he needed to get out of the ring, Desmond leaped out of the fire and rolled to smother any flames on his clothes, aiming his gun but saw that Asher had already replaced his phantom gloves with a set of metallic dark purple gauntlets. The black-haired teen then aimed his palms behind him.

"Double Sonic Boom!" Asher shouted as he launched into the air by twin sound blasts. Desmond attempted to shoot him out the air, but like before Asher managed to evade every single shot with subtle bursts of sound.

"Again?! What the fu-" Desmond began to say before his foe landed in front of him and socked him the jaw with a solid right cross, knocking out some teeth and even more blood. But through his increasingly wobbling vision, the gun-wielding teen saw that Asher's eyes were still glowing indigo. And suddenly, the realization hit him harder than any spell.

'He's using some kind of eye magic!' Demond thought as he looked at his opponent's softly glowing eyes.

'Keep trying to shoot me, you bastard!' Asher thought with a smirk as he continued his brawl with Desmond, his dirty-blond foe attempting to block his blows with his punches with his arms. From Asher's point of the view, the world had taken on an indigo tint. Desmond appeared to have slowed down while a shining purple duplicate of himself was leaping away to aim Waltz at him.

In real time, Desmond leaped back and was about to aim Waltz at Asher, just like in the later's vision. But the black-haired boy was prepared-

"Sonic Blast!"

-and blasted his opponent away. 'With my Eyes of Truth, I can predict every move you'll make! You're never gonna hit me!'

For every conceivable form of magic, there exists the perfect countermagic. The Eyes of Truth are a form of Eye Magic that allows the caster to track and predict the movement of any given target along with all forms of mana. In other words, it's the perfect counter to any form of long-range magic. Something that was finally clicking in Desmond's mind. But while a lesser wizard would attempt to retreat when fighting a perfect counter, the gunslinging teen wasn't one to run away.

Getting back up, Desmond tossed Tango to the ground and unclipped his belt. Through his enchanted eyes, Asher saw that his opponent was going to touch every single spare clip on his belt before tossing it at him.

'What the hell is he doing?' The black-haired teen pondered as Desmond did just as his eyes predicted. 'He's just throwing away his ammo away. Is he just trying to confuse me?'

However, he then saw that with his belt in the air, Desmond was also aiming Tango...right at the airborne belt while the clips were still charged with mana. It was then that Asher realized what his foe was planning to do. "WHAT THE HELL?! ARE YOU INSANE?!"

"Bang," Desmond said utterly calm and pulled Tango's trigger. The enchanted bullet flew through the air and hit one of the Flame Clips. This caused a chain reaction, causing all the bullet clips to explode in a massive combined plume of fire and ice. However, Desmond had severely underestimated just how much force the explosion would have and found himself swept off his feet and flying through the air. His short flight brought to an end when he collided with stadium wall, he let out a howl of pain and fell to the ground.

With a grunt of pain, Desmond forced himself to sit up and look around and saw Asher on the other side of the stadium. The black-haired teen was lying on the ground, unmoving, and Desmond couldn't tell if he was alive or dead. But that didn't matter right now. Desmond forced himself to his feet, determined to get his pendant back. With every step he took, pain ripped through the dirty-blond's body, it felt like he was being stabbed by dozens of red hot knives. When he reached the cent of the arena, his body gave out, Desmond collapsed and everything went dark.

And then…

Hours later, Desmond opened his to see white tile instead of the sky or dirt, and it took one whiff of the sterile, sanitized smell to know he was in the nurse's office.

"H-h-hi, Desmond," a soft voice said.

Surprised, the dirty-blond turned his head to see Wendy and Carla sitting next to his bed. "Wendy, what the heck are ya doin' here?"

"I, um, well, I saw you and that other boy leaving campus and I followed you," Wendy said nervously. "I tracked you guys by your scent and you guys lying on the ground in Domus Flau. I didn't see what happened, but I heard a really big explosion when and then I saw you guys lying on the ground."

"I see," Desmond said. With what felt like a herculean effort, he forced himself to sit up despite Wendy's protests. "Hey, ya didn't happen ta find a pendant there; silver with a dark-blue stone?"

Wendy perked up at the question. "Oh yeah, I did." She pointed to the other side of Desmond's bed. He looked down, expecting to see his pendant on the table next to his bed. When he found nothing, he looked around and gasped when he found it. Lying in the bed next to his was Asher, out cold, and on the table next to the black-haired boy's bed was pendant wrapped in Asher's handkerchief.

"What the heck. Why'd ya put it next to him?" Desmond asked, harsher than he meant to.

"S-sorry," Wendy blurted out. "It smelled like him so I thought it was his." She quickly walked over and grabbed the pendant and handed it to Desmond. "H-here you go."

"Thank ya kindly, Wendy," Desmond said with a smile. "And I'm sorry 'bout snappin' at ya." He traced his fingers over the cool metal, it brought a soothing comfort to him. Suddenly, his eyes widened, something wasn't right.

'What in tarnation?' he thought as he flipped the pendant over. Instead of the initials 'J.T.' of his father, Desmond found the back engraved with 'E.Z.'

"Is something wrong?" Carla asked.

"It's nothin'," Desmond said. "Thing is, this ain't mine. Guess I'm still loopy from the being knocked around." He handed the pendant to Wendy with a strained look on his face. "Mind puttin' this back for me?

"Sure thing," Wendy said.

As the blue-haired girl put the pendant back on Asher's table, a thought crossed Desmond's mind. "Ya know, I'm surprised ya were to carry me and him all the way back here."

"Oh, it wasn't me," Wendy said with a blush. "Carla flew you two back after I healed your injuries."

"Ya did? Well thank ya kindly, Miss Carla."

"You're quite welcome," the white cat said. "However, don't expect me to it again. It was quite the ordeal to carry both of you back even with the magical boost from Wendy. Understand, young man?"

Desmond gave a quick nod. "Yessum."

"Good," Carla said. "Now come along child, it's getting late."

"Oh, alright," Wendy said. "Bye, Desmond. See you later." Desmond smiled at her retreating form and waved goodbye.

Alone with his thoughts, the dirty-blond sighed and looked back at the unconscious Asher. 'So, he never even broke into my room to begin with,' Desmond thought, accepting the undeniable fact that his pendant still sat in its box in his room, safe and sound. Even knowing his keepsake was safe, Desmond frowned. 'E.Z.' must have stood for Ephraim Zilberstein, Asher's father, and the uncanny resemblance between the two pieces couldn't be a coincidence.

He hated to admit it, but as much as he loved his father, Desmond knew terribly little about his life before being blinded and forced to retire. It was a bittersweet subject for Jeremiah given his forced retirement. He could have the biggest grin on his face when he recounted stories his exploits with his old team, the Black Coursers, but when the story was over he'd often be melancholic and quiet for a while. When his old teammates would come and visit the family in Doblin, they'd always been tight-lipped and careful with their words when it came to the time before the accident. Even Desmond's mother, Penelope, had a habit of going quiet whenever the subject came up. All Desmond knew about their past was that his mother had been a Fairy Tail wizard alongside Jeremiah, and pregnant with him when her husband had been blinded.

Even so, the tales of Fairy Tail Desmond had been told captivated him to no end, and for as long he could remember he'd wanted to join his father's guild and carry on his legacy.

…but the sharpshooter couldn't help but feel some form of resentment bubble up in the pit of his stomach. The couple had never once mentioned the story Asher had told him, nor ever uttered the name "Ephraim Zilberstein" as far as Desmond could remember. Why? Did they not trust him? It felt like something so important, and if the matching pendants were any indication, Jeremiah and Ephraim had been close friends, much like himself and Lester.

'Dang it, pa, what the heck's goin' on,' Desmond thought with a frustrated sigh. He glanced over to Asher and recalled the veracity he fought with for the sake of avenging his father. Though he didn't like the other teen, the dedication and respect Asher clearly held for father was something Desmond could respect.

'Still, you didn't have to be such a dick about it.'

The Next Morning…

"Lester, Lester," Crystal said as she gently prodded the sleeping teen. Lester was currently taking a nap at in Avalon Academy's cafeteria. As soon as he'd sat down, the violet-eyed boy had all but collapsed, his face narrowly avoiding his bowl of cereal that was currently growing soggy.

"Lester!" Crystal exclaimed with a hard poke, jolting the boy awake.

"You can't have my kumquats!" Lester yelled, sitting up so fast he jostled the table. With bleary eyes, he was able to make out Wendy, Carla, and Crystal sitting across from him. "Oh…what's up…"

"Are you okay?" Wendy asked.

"So many forms…all needing exact weight. Only got…two hours…sleep…" Lester moaned as Carla poked him. As this was happening, Desmond approached the group with a plate with a mile high stack of pancakes.

"Told ya it was too much," the dirty-blond teen said, causing Crystal to look at his bandages and damaged face.

"Yikes! What happened to you?"

"Eh, some punks jumped me when I was walking around town," the Guns Wizard declared, recounting the lie he'd told the nurse. "Alright, buddy, let's get somethin' in yer stomach."

And as Desmond was helping his tired friend shovel soggy cornflakes in his mouth, Asher watched the blond from across the cafeteria, his face just as bruised as his opponent's. After waking up in the clinic, Asher had time to think about how he confronted the young gunslinger. In hindsight, he realized that he rushed into a fight without a firm grasp on kind of wizard Desmond was. While he was still determined to get vengeance, he now knew he had to be patient.

Maybe his vengeance wouldn't come within the next week. Maybe not even in the next year. But someday, he would avenge his father and make the Trotter family pay.

Author's Note 2: Hope you all enjoyed this Desmond-focused chapter. Honestly, coming up with the backstory for the young gunslinger was surprisingly fun. Same for Asher and his father. And I hope you all pay attention to one of Asher's magics because it's going to be appearing in Homecoming pretty goddamn soon.

Next Time: Take a Chance! Please remember to read, review, favorite and support this series by editing the TV Tropes page!

See ya next time!