Hello people, I've been thinking recently about going back and re-writing some of the earlier chapters of this fic considering it's pretty old and I would like to think my writing has improved somewhat in that time. As always, let me know what you think, message me if you want to chat about Fairy Tail things - I don't bite.

Zancrow ducked under a ball of lightning launched at him and went straight for the throat, slashing with his flames. It hadn't even occurred to him that there were four more capable wizards behind him that he could work together with - teamwork was not his strong suit.

As soon as he reached the master he had disappeared in a sweep of his cloak and Zancrow looked around wildly, trying to see where he had vanished to.

"Over here!"

On his right now, he launched a bolt of lightning straight at Zancrow who couldn't jump out of the way in time. He winced as he took the hit head on, the energy from the attack blasting him backwards. Just as he was anticipating a harsh reunion with the ground with his back he found himself colliding with something far softer than was expecting.

Zancrow looked behind him and saw Natsu, grinning and holding him in place.

"What do you think you're doing, huh?" Natsu said teasingly. "Barging on in there without even inviting me!"

Zancrow was taken aback for just a second but quickly recovered, flashing Natsu a grin of his own.

"Sorry, I forgot you were as deranged as I am – want to kick his ass with me?"

"Let's get him."

Dragon and demon stood side by side, alight with orange and black flames. The fox-masked mage slipped his mask on, about to engage, but before he could reach them he collided mid-air with a plethora of icy projectiles. Zancrow looked behind him. Gray had his fist in the palm of his hand, about to summon another round of Ice Make Lance.

"We've got this guy. You get the master."

"Right!"

Both Natsu and Zancrow nodded and rushed forwards, fists alight. When they worked together their attacks were as fluid as water – their flames complimenting each other's. As one would strike the other would follow up. When one would dodge the other would boost them forwards, back into the fray. They almost danced with magic, a fiery, sinister and ethereal show.

"Do your breath attack at him! I'll roar!"

"Are you sure?!"

"Just do it!" Natsu commanded.

Zancrow obediently leapt back and prepared his bellow as he felt Natsu at his side take a breath in.

"Enjin no…"

"Karyuu no…"

"DOGOU!"

"HOKOU!"

The combined flames barrelled through the Steel Wits master, carrying him through the back of the guild hall along with the rubble of the wall.

Zancrow looked around himself as the dust cleared, seeing that Gray, Erza and Lucy had managed to take down the fox-masked wizard whilst Natsu and he had been dealing with the master. It was over. They had won.

The guild hall was beginning to crumble and it was no surprise – many of the walls and pillars supporting the structure had been completely annihilated. Collapse was likely imminent.

"Everyone out!" Zancrow roared, about to take off outside.

"Wait! We can't leave them here!" yelled Lucy, pointing at the downed mages.

"Yes we can!"

"Zancrow!" Gray bellowed.

Grumbling, Zancrow heaved Safir over his shoulder and ran outside just as the guild hall began to cave in on itself, looking back to see the other wizards carrying the rest of the legion.

As soon as he was out of harm's way, Zancrow turned and dumped Safir unceremoniously on the ground then watched as the rest of his team put down their own cargo. If they had hesitated much longer they would have been caught up in the wreckage too. It had been a risk to rescue their enemies and Zancrow didn't understand why they had bothered to save the wizards that had actively tried to harm them. Gray saw the puzzled look on Zancrow's face and examined him sternly.

"Fighting an enemy is one thing. Letting them die is another."

Zancrow looked away at that, mildly ashamed. Yes, he supposed there was a difference. As much as he wanted to believe he was a better person since losing his memories, decisions he made in haste showed a harsh reality - his moral compass was still by no means highly calibrated; he could still be ruthless and cruel.

His eyes flitted to Safir as he saw the young mage stir. He was so very young – a whole lifetime ahead of him in which to make amends. A whole lifetime in which to find his purpose, to do something meaningful, to find love, to make something of his existence.

Zancrow felt himself looking in front of him without really seeing, suddenly deep in thought. His musings weren't really about Safir, but more himself. He was still young but his list of crimes was lengthy. Did he have enough time to atone, to find some kind of purpose? Did he even want to do that?

He shook his head sharply. Now was not the time. He looked down at the legion sprawled out in front of him; they were all breathing, at least. He felt Gray join him at his side, also looking down at their quarry. He chanced a quick sideways glance at him to make sure he wasn't under scrutiny still and received a raised eyebrow as a reply, as if questioning his concern.

All of a sudden, Zancrow felt a hand clap onto his shoulder and he quickly looked behind. It was Natsu and oddly enough he looked impressed.

"Half demon, huh? That's pretty cool. No wonder you smelt funny."

Zancrow's eyebrows contracted, mildly vexed that his smell was the first thing Natsu could think to comment on.

"Sure hope it smells better than dragon."

"Hey buddy, I'm giving you a compliment!"

"And I'm giving you some advice, you should wash a little more often!"

"They sure are getting along better, huh?" Gray said amusedly as the two snarled at each other, heads pressed together.

"I don't know about that, Gray." Lucy wasn't particularly convinced.

Erza's sharp tones quickly split up the fire wizards' squabble.

"The master had already explained the situation to me. But if he has faith in you regardless of your… condition, then I do too."

Zancrow didn't know what to say – Erza's words were so very blunt but it was satisfying to be so unerringly trusted.

"Besides, Natsu is a monster anyway – what does it matter if we have one more?" Lucy shrugged.

Zancrow grinned. He might have just found a place where he belonged.

"Jellal, I don't know if that's such a great idea…"

"Erik, humour me. You are the only one of us that both knows Zancrow and has a reason to be in Magnolia."

"Remind me again, what on earth land is my reason to be in Magnolia?"

Jellal looked him with amusement. "Well, I thought that was obvious…"

Cobra heard Racer guffaw next to him and fixed him with an expression of deepest loathing. So what if he went to see Kinana when her shift was over? It wasn't anyone else's business.

Just to shut Racer up, Cobra said loudly, "Fine, I'll do it."

"Seriously? I thought all the fairies had loud thoughts. Doesn't that drive you crazy?" Racer said suspiciously.

"Yes. They do. And yes it does. But if it'll keep face-tattoo-and-no-job off my case…"

"It's not as if you have a job either, Erik," Jellal shot back, entertained.

"You need to think about how you're going to support your future wife and family, you know," Midnight teased.

Cobra groaned. He wasn't going to win this.

"Enough, enough. Tell me where you want me and when."

Jellal fixed him with a thoughtful look.

"As soon as you hear his voice in town, tail him. Just see where it goes. Make contact if you feel confident."

"Can do, boss," Cobra replied as he sat down with the rest of his friends and spooned some surprisingly good curry Richard had made into a bowl.

The ride back had been long, but mildly entertaining at least. Zancrow had managed to snag another branch full of cherries and Natsu's motion sickness provided a constant source of amusement.

"Can't you do anything for that?" said Zancrow, pointing at Natsu.

"Wendy can, but it doesn't last long," said Lucy, a queasy Dragon Slayer on her shoulder.

"Do you have any kind of…. uhhm, condition like he does? Do different Slayers have different weaknesses?" said Gray interestedly.

"Uhhhh, I'm a really shit swimmer but that's about it really," said Zancrow, popping another cherry into his mouth. "Hate the water. Too wet."

"What about other God Slayers?"

"What do you mean? Never met another one."

"You haven't? There's two more in guilds fairly locally."

"You what?"

"Sherria and Orga, sky and lightning God Slayers."

Zancrow felt an odd mix of excitement that there were others like him and mild disappointment that he wasn't as special as he thought he was. He had been somewhat convinced that Hades had resurrected an extinct magic from what he had read in the black notebook.

"Wonder where they learned it. Hades taught me everything," Zancrow mused.

"You could ask them you know. They're not too far away," Lucy reasoned. "Not to mention, Sherria is really nice!"

"Unless, you know, they freak out and have me arrested since I'm from a Balam Alliance guild and all."

Lucy's face fell. "Oh… yeah."

Zancrow waved her concern away. "It's no bother, though I wouldn't mind being able to go out in the open some day."

"Good luck. I'm surprised no one has recognised you yet," Gray said seriously.

"That's because I don't let people who see me get away alive," Zancrow said slickly, with a devious grin.

And with that, the carriage was silent for the rest of the journey.

Cobra slipped into the back alleys of Magnolia, one with the shadows. Tracking was his speciality, helped massively by his hearing magic. Focusing on the thousands of voices he could hear echoing in his head, he heard no Flame God Slayer among them. Perhaps he had already left town and this was a worthless endeavour.

Cobra didn't know what to make of Jellal's plan. He seemed to be convinced that Zancrow would stick around places with a lot of mages but staying in Magnolia didn't make much sense. Maybe his demon blood had deteriorated his sense of reason so heavily that he couldn't make rational decisions anymore.

Contrary to what he thought was wise, Jellal had been very insistent on leaving Zancrow alive. Cobra scoffed at the thought. Whether Jellal thought it was "their place" or not to decide his fate, a half demon was clearly a massive danger – especially in such a densely populated area. Should the opportunity arise, he was not averse to killing Zancrow. Cobra knew his strength well, having seen many battlefields razed to the ground by his hand. But it was not as if he himself had been idle in gaining strength – he did have an extra seven years of experience after all. If only he still had Cubellios to sneak in and deliver a venomous bite. Death could be assured in but a few minutes.

Cobra heard voices approaching from the south. One, two, three, four, five… six. Natsu, Erza, Lucy, Gray, kitty. Zancrow. Cobra closed his one remaining eye and focused. His voice was very close to the others, as if he was part of their group. He heard horse hooves upon the cobbles. Was he returning from a job with Fairy Tail wizards?

Scaling a building, Cobra made his way towards the south and saw a peculiar sight. Clear as day, there were the Fairy Tail wizards and trailing just a few feet behind him was Zancrow in a cloak. He heard his voice but it was fragmented and quiet, as if something was missing. This was far more concerning that he had initially thought. What was he doing with them and why did his voice sound the way it did?

Cobra knew Fairy Tail wizards – though impulsive they were not unintelligent. There had to be a reason that Zancrow was accompanying them. He doubted that Zancrow had managed to trick them somehow but he was also confused as to why Fairy Tail had allowed him to be around its members. This would warrant a closer investigation.

Dropping back down into the back alleys, Cobra silently tailed his target to the Fairy Tail guild hall.

Zancrow stretched, yawning. He actually felt pretty tired after their fights against Steel Wits. He watched as Natsu's team became rowdier and rowdier at their table and found himself feeling a bizarre surge of fondness as he did so. They were already discussing their next mission and Zancrow wondered what he himself would be doing for the rest of the week. Mirajane nor the master had mentioned anything. He just hoped it wasn't anything too unpleasant.

As a chair sailed over his head and the guild reached peak insanity, Zancrow decided to call it a day and return to his dormitory room. Donning his cloak and pulling down the hood, he walked out into the evening and towards the hill on the east.

As he cracked open the front door, Zancrow noted that the dorm was still very quiet. He thought he could hear one or two voices but he wasn't certain. Shouldering open his door and shutting it behind him, he threw his cloak onto the bed and made a beeline for the kitchen. He was starving.

It took Zancrow about thirty seconds to realise that he was, in fact, an appalling cook. More to the point, he realised that he actually didn't know how to make food. Concentrating hard, he wondered if these were memories that had been lost or if he was really that bad at looking after himself. He sighed – he was a proud man and didn't like to feel as if he couldn't do something.

As it transpired, pasta wasn't too difficult to make. Zancrow felt satisfied with his efforts, at least. Sitting at the counter and pulling out the black notebook, he flicked through its content with fresh eyes, wondering if there was anything else he could glean from it. He had been very thorough, combing through every page carefully. He didn't want to miss even a scrap of information.

After another hour of searching, however, he had to conclude that there really wasn't anything else of note. Zancrow felt frustrated. It was as if his whole life was written down in this book but he still had so many questions. He snapped the book shut and pulled up the loose floorboard under the bed he had begun hiding it under for safekeeping.

Climbing into bed he extinguished the candle on the bedside table by eating it, then turned over and went to sleep.

Even though he was a heavy sleeper, Zancrow still managed to awaken at seven o'clock – giving him an hour to be at the guild. Considering his tardiness the day before, he was really quite pleased with himself. He grabbed the silver key to the bathroom next door and went in to wash.

As he stripped off his clothes after running a bath, he looked at himself perhaps more carefully than he had done before. In the mirror he could see that his body was littered with scars – some long, some short, some thin and some jagged. Some wounds had been stitched as they healed – Zancrow traced the pinpricks where the thread had been.

Easing himself into the bath, he lamented that he couldn't remember how he obtained any of the wounds covering his body. It was as if he was in the body of a stranger and that unsettled him somewhat – what did the owner of this body do to become so marked? If anything was apparent to Zancrow, it was that he must have spent a lot of time on the battlefield. No casual mage had this much experience brushing with death. He wondered how he had dealt with sickness and wounds – with pride and grace, he hoped.

He sank deeper into the tub, his hair flowing around him like spun gold in the water. Looking out over the surface of the bathwater, he felt a memory bubbling to the surface. It was just tantalisingly out of reach; the more he tried to focus, the more it slipped away from him. He relaxed and let it invade his mind.

He was on the Grimoire Heart airship, dragging himself with great effort to his room. He opened the scorched door and slammed it behind him. He almost bent double and pulled himself onto his bed, lying back and pushing his hair away from his face. He was hot, so boiling hot, feeling sweat streaking down his skin. It had been a very long time since he had felt something "too hot" but this was something else. He could hear his own ragged breathing as if from miles away and his pulse was throbbing in his ears.

He had been warned about this before but he had really gone and done it this time – he had overused his magic until he hit absolute zero. There was nothing in his system whatsoever. It made little sense to him – surely as a god he had unlimited power? But here he was, a mortal, weak. It made him sick to his stomach.

He moved his head and the room spun violently. The fever had come on quickly and he had dashed to his room as soon as he felt it, not wanting anyone to see his weakness. But it was getting worse and worse by the second; his skin prickled and his thoughts became muddled. He had thought on his way to his room that a quick nap would solve the problem but with a shock of fear he knew that if he fell asleep now he may very well not wake up.

Every time he made a move the room lurched agonisingly and he could barely keep his eyes open. He felt himself slip into an uncomfortable doze, periodically waking and then swiftly losing consciousness again.

In the midst of his brain fog he felt something cool touch his neck. His eyes flicked open and he attempted to focus on something pink at his side.

"Meredy?"

He felt his eyes slide into focus before the world became blurry again but he managed to make out her concerned face as it swam before him, a wet rag in her hands.

"Ultear asked me to check on you..."

Zancrow lay back down and waved her away feebly, trying to appear threatening.

"Get out!" he growled, not wanting anyone to see him in a moment of weakness.

Meredy didn't move an inch and Zancrow faintly heard his door open again.

"You really did it this time, didn't you Zancrow? You do know you're not supposed to half kill yourself with magic deficiency after every job, yes?"

Ultear stood at the doorway, leaning on the doorframe. Her arms were crossed and despite her mocking tone she regarded him with slight worry. Zancrow of course wasn't anywhere near compos mentis enough to register this and at the sound of her voice he took a couple of steadying breaths and attempted to pull himself into a sitting position.

"I'm fine. Just sleepy."

"Just stop. You're clearly not well. I was on my way to tell Master Hades so he could check on you."

At this, Zancrow felt a thrill of fear rush through him, suddenly more alert. She wouldn't dare threaten him like that, would she? Did he deserve the master's retribution for his mistake?

"Don't…!"

He tried to shout forcefully, intimidatingly but his yell was weak and fearful.

Ultear cocked her head confusedly. "What's wrong with you? He'll want to know."

"Just don't. Okay?"

All sorts of thoughts rushed into Zancrow's head – fears of being punished for his mistake, a terrible look of disappointment on Hades' face, being shamefully excommunicated from the guild. He wanted to make his master proud more than anything and his arrogance may have cost him everything. He could only hope that Ultear wouldn't make good on her promise to tell Hades.

Ultear sighed, exasperated. "Don't be an idiot. He'll come see you in a few minutes."

And with that she swept out of the room with Meredy, leaving Zancrow terror-stricken. Ultear was really going to do it after all. He felt even sicker than before and leaned over the side of the bed, retching.

Wiping his mouth, he pulled himself back up onto the bed and closed his eyes, thinking. He couldn't believe Ultear would betray him like that, especially since he'd covered for her only a few days ago when she wanted to go out with a guy without Master Hades knowing. They always looked out for each other – especially since Meredy seemed to view Ultear as a mother and Zancrow as an older brother. He'd give her hell later, for now he needed to deal with the Master.

Zancrow heard Hades before he saw him, eyes still closed. He heard the door open and the brush of his cloak on the floor. He heard him pull up a chair and sit down next to the bed. Zancrow chanced a look at Hades. His face was impassive, impossible to read. It made all the fear bubble up in Zancrow's chest and before he knew it he was blurting out a half-thought out and desperate apology.

"I made myself really sick Master Hades! I'm so sorry!"

Hades simply shook his head.

"I know. That's why I'm here," he said, his voice kinder than Zancrow was expecting.

His soft tone jarred Zancrow strangely and along with the delirium of the fever his emotions felt overwhelming and confusing. He looked at Hades once again and his vision blurred with a film of tears he held back with gritted teeth. Hades paid it no mind. He leaned down and picked up the wet cloth Meredy had left behind and pressed it to Zancrow's forehead.

"I think you should rest for now. I will make sure no harm comes to you."

Finally reassured that he was not going to be punished for his mistake, Zancrow allowed himself to relax, appreciating the coolness of the rag. Under Hades' watchful eye, he managed to slip off into a far more comfortable sleep.

Zancrow opened his eyes, staring pensively over the water. He had spent so much time angry at Hades for making him half demon that he had never even considered that Hades may have cared about him. Zancrow cared about his fellow kin too. He grew up with them, they were all his siblings. Did that make Hades his father?

Zancrow wrapped his arms around his knees, almost feeling guilty. He had spent a lot of time demonising Grimoire Heart and its members, making himself feel apart from them when all this time they had been his family. It wasn't just the other kin either, he had been convinced that he himself had been a monster. Perhaps he was on the battlefield but with the Seven Kin he was just a brother in a family full of misfits. Maybe his memories being missing was the only difference between his old persona and the person he was now. At least it gave him a chance to start again.

He started to feel himself missing his Grimoire family – he wondered where they were now. Were they well? Did they suffer the same fate as he did? He'd have to find Rustyrose and Kain to apologise for beating them up at some point…

Zancrow looked down at the mark on his chest. Perhaps it wasn't such a bad mark to be sporting after all. It might have stood for something more sinister but ultimately it was something that connected him to the Seven Kin and Hades. He couldn't believe he'd ever thought about getting rid of it.

He finished his bath and dressed, grabbing another tin of something mysterious from his backpack. He'd have go get some real food at some point – this was getting ridiculous. As he ate, he stared through the window at the town sprawled before him. It was rapidly becoming familiar to Zancrow – all its nooks and crannies, its shops and even some of its people. Finding his father demon seemed to become more and more of a daunting task – did he really want to leave this comfort behind? He would have to at some point; he couldn't intrude on Fairy Tail's hospitality forever.

Zancrow didn't even know where to start on finding his father demon. The only information he had was its name – "Chiroptera" – and the shape of the demon mark. A fat lot of nothing, in other words. Zancrow looked down at his side again. The mark had not made an appearance since its first, painful introduction. He sighed, frustrated. What did it all mean? Why did Hades make him half demon? What was the purpose? How did he even get a demon to agree to give up its blood in the first place? These questions had been echoing around Zancrow's head from the very moment he had found out the truth and the black notebook was the only thing that made him feel as if he hadn't dreamt the whole thing up.

With a pang he realised that asking Master Hades himself was not a possibility – he was long dead. Zancrow wondered how he had fallen, was it in battle with Fairy Tail? At any rate, he was on his own when it came to finding answers. All he needed was some money and it was time to move on.

Pulling on his cloak and pulling the hood down sharply, Zancrow left the dormitories and walked down the hill towards the hustle and bustle of Magnolia's main streets where Fairy Tail awaited him. On his journey there he was very mindful of keeping his wits about him – he didn't want a repeat of crashing into a stranger. Zancrow wondered who that cloaked stranger could have been. He hadn't seen him since that fateful encounter just the other day.

His musings carried him all the way up to the front doors of the guild which were, as always, wide open – warm and inviting. He allowed his hood to drop to his shoulders as he made his way up to the bar to Mirajane. This time the other guild members barely took notice of his presence. There was the odd glance, the odd suspicious look but ultimately Zancrow thought it was a vast improvement.

"Hey. How's it goin'?"

Mira looked up from cleaning glasses and gave Zancrow a warm smile. It always rattled Zancrow. He wasn't used to someone being so nice to him.

"Oh hello! You're with me today!"

"Wait, what? You mean I get to go on another job?"

"Oh no, haha, you're helping me behind the bar!"

The grin slid off Zancrow's face faster than Natsu was eating meat behind him.

"Are you serious? Really? Me?!"

Mirajane's smile didn't waver. "Yes, you."

"But, I, you know? Really? Because I'm strong and…" Zancrow sputtered.

"The Master asked that you do this job specifically. I don't think he'll change his mind but I suppose you could always ask him…"

"No. It's fine," said Zancrow huffily, feeling that this was beneath him.

He pushed his way behind the bar and stood there awkwardly, not really knowing what to do. Mira handed him an apron and Zancrow took it from her, holding it away from him as if it might bite.

"Well… put it on."

"Okay, okay."

Zancrow took his cloak and long coat off leaving him in just his shirt and trousers, then put on the apron, tying it neatly behind him. Mira clapped her hands together and laughed.

"You know what, Laki might be right. I think you'd clean up very well!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Zancrow growled, feeling abashed.

Mira ignored him, pulling him into the back to introduce him to another member of staff.

"This is Kinana! You two will be well acquainted by the end of the day!"

Zancrow looked her up and down before waving hello and she replied with a shy wave of her own before retiring into the back to fetch more beers. She looked so timid and innocent. What on earth was she doing in a guild full of animals like Fairy Tail?

Zancrow looked over at Mirajane again, waiting for some instruction and Mira, sensing his readiness, handed him a list.

"These are your jobs for this morning, alright? They shouldn't take you too long and then you can start working behind the bar and delivering food."

"Uhh, sure thing," replied Zancrow distractedly, running his eyes down the list. Mirajane was right – these wouldn't take him too long. The first item on the list was to go take stock of the alcohol downstairs and make a list of what needed re-ordering.

Zancrow stuffed the list into his pocket, nodded at Mira and went down the stairs to the basement to start his first task of the day. As he descended the stairs he heard the tell-tale clinking of beer bottles and poking his head around the door he saw Kinana stacking crates for some indiscernible reason.

As he entered and closed the door behind him, Kinana whipped her head around to locate the source of the noise and then beamed when she saw him.

"Someone else! Could you help me get those bottles up there?"

Zancrow looked up. "Those bottles" were in fact roughly ten feet above them on the top shelf.

"Holy hell, who put them up there? I feel like the couple inches I have on you ain't gonna help much."

"But you're a wizard, right…?

"I mean if you want them melted into a hot, glassy slurry then I can help but otherwise..."

Kinana's face fell and she was about to start stacking crates again when a tongue of black fire whipped past her and curled around the bottles, pulling them neatly off the shelf and setting them safely on the floor.

"Sometimes you need to change the texture to not damage anything, I guess," said Zancrow, the black flame coiling around his index finger.

"Thanks! Cana has been asking me all day to get these but I haven't been able to reach."

Zancrow watched her go and started looking around the basement. Dear lord. There was a lot of alcohol down here. Even for one, very rowdy guild. He took out a piece of paper and a pencil and went looking around the barrels. Ale… low. Beer… low. Wine… hm, also low. So was the vodka, rum and gin. In fact, everything seemed to be low in stock. When did they last do an order? And why was Mira's threshold for "low" still so high?

As he stooped down to check on something else he heard the door open behind him again as Kinana came back down into the basement. His curiosity was piqued. He would have to ask.

"Uhm. What's with the whole booze situation?"

"Oh, that's Cana. Don't worry, we won't run out if we put the order in today."

"Wait, you mean it's one person drinking all this?!"

"Well… pretty much."

"Are they okay?! Can I go see?! Someone like that has to have an iron liver!"

"I don't think Cana would enjoy being ogled at. Or maybe she would, I don't know."

"She?! You Fairy Tail guys are wild."

"Haha, they sure can be. Are you done taking stock? Mira said you'd help me clean down here."

"Uh, yeah," said Zancrow, stuffing the paper he was taking notes on into his pocket. "What do I need to clean?"

"Well, I guess it's less "clean" and more "get rid of"."

"Meaning what?"

"It's just… Okay there's a really huge rat in one of the corners and it's really gross and scary!"

Zancrow tried desperately not to laugh but a snort and his smirk gave him away. Kinana was immediately embarrassed flushed bright red.

"Don't laugh! It's really serious!"

Zancrow couldn't help it now – his laugh escaped him and Kinana's chagrin grew. Still cackling he looked around, looking for a trace of this so-called "scary rat".

"Where is the little bugger anyways? This corner?"

"Uh, yeah…" said Kinana warily backing away into the opposite corner.

Zancrow bent down, pushing boxes aside until he saw the tell-tale rat hole. He cocked his head listening for noise and then stuck his hand straight in, feeling around for something warm and fluffy.

"Be careful! Don't let it bite you!"

"Ahhh don't worry what's the worst that could happen? Oh- I think I got it."

Zancrow pulled out the critter by its worm-like tail and straightened up, holding his squealing prize.

"Ta-da. One rat."

"Ew, take it out of here!"

"Aw really? I think he's sort of cute."

"Not a chance!"

Zancrow laughed and almost without thinking, he pinched the rat's neck in his fingers and quickly wrung it. With a small squeak it died instantly, swinging lifelessly from its tail.

Kinana flinched, staring down at the rat and then up at him with wide eyes. Zancrow suddenly realised that he had done something awful.

"I mean… I just wanted you to put him outside away from the guild n-not…"

"I thought you might want him taking care of so I guess I just… did that."

"O-okay, yeah."

Kinana backed away somewhat fearfully and went back upstairs to the main guild hall rather quickly. Zancrow looked down at the rat in his hand. On reflection, he couldn't believe he'd taken a life without even consciously thinking about it, even if it was a rat. What harm would it have done him to just release it away from the guild?

Hot shame and guilt starting bubbling in the pit of Zancrow's stomach and he had the strange urge to just run and never talk to any of the guild members ever again. He looked down at the rat again. He should at least dispose of it respectfully.

Pocketing it, he went decisively upstairs and out of the front doors, looking for some fresh earth. He found some just a couple of houses down, just bordering on a lush, green park. Zancrow clawed at the dirt beneath a large, old oak tree and lay the rat in it, throwing earth over the top.

Flattening the mound with his hands, he sat under the tree, thinking. At least he had realised that killing it was wrong. It was just a snap decision, something done out of habit. Was he so acclimatised to death and taking lives that his habits seeped over into this life? Maybe his old self was enamoured with the idea of killing but he, now, was not. Or perhaps it wasn't the desire, more the lack of recognition of the value of life. Whatever it was, Zancrow wasn't keen on either option.

Thinking back to his time in the bath just this morning, maybe he really wasn't any different to how he used to be. This loss of memory – it had somehow completely flipped his outlook but not changed his personality. Possibly it had just taken a refresher to help him understand how misguided he had been. If Zancrow could point out any strength about himself currently, it was his ability to be introspective, to evaluate what he was doing and why – his old self, well, definitely did things without thinking. At any rate, Zancrow wanted to do… better? Whatever that might entail. Breaking the habit of mindless killing would probably be a good place to start.

Zancrow stood up; after taking all this time brooding they might be missing him at the guild. He went back inside the guild doors, no one having noticed his absence.

"Zancrow, your hands are filthy! What have you been doing?"

Zancrow looked down at his muddy, soil-covered hands and wiped them hurriedly inside his apron pockets, trying to get the worst of it off.

"I was just… walking. And I… fell."

"Go wash them, I need your help with delivering the food!"

Grateful that Mirajane had not pried, Zancrow washed his hands in the sink obediently, feeling Kinana brush past him silently.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he said, still facing the sink.

"Really, it's okay. I was just kind of shocked."

"No, it was sort of fucked up. I felt really bad. I buried it in the park nearby."

"You did? I'm not used to seeing things like that I suppose. Were you raised on a farm?"

"Oh um… yeah. Yeah I was." Zancrow just went with the lie. It was easier than saying "no, I was a general in a dark guild army" at any rate.

"Kinana!"

A frazzled Mirajane called from behind the bar. Kinana gave Zancrow an apologetic smile and ran over to help with delivering food and alcohol. Shaking his hands dry, Zancrow supposed that he should join her as well – Mirajane looked completely overwhelmed.

As he approached the bar, Mira was already waving a plate in his face.

"This one to Natsu please!"

Seriously? Out of everyone, he got Natsu's order? Mind, the menace ate so goddamn much that he supposed the odds weren't that low. With a sigh, he took the plate from Mirajane and approached Natsu's table he was sharing with the rest of his team with some irritation.

"Hey – what the hell are you doing with my food?"

"Fuck does it look like?! I'm giving it to you!"

Natsu narrowed his eyes suspiciously and stroked his chin in what he probably thought was a contemplative manner.

"I dunno… what'd you do to this?"

"I haven't had chance, Mira just gave it to me. Just be thankful I didn't spit in it."

"Hmmm…" Natsu stroked his imaginary beard again.

"Just take it! I've got to give out more!"

"Alright I'll eat it this time but I'm warning you," Natsu said, more playfully than threateningly.

"I'll bear it in mind," Zancrow growled in reply, stomping back up to the bar.

"Zancrow, there you are! Can you take this one to that table in the corner?"

"Haven't been gone thirty seconds…" he grumbled under his breath, taking the plate from Mirajane and turning on his heel quickly to approach the table occupied by possibly the wildest looking man he'd ever seen. Charcoal black hair flowed down his back and his slit-pupiled red eyes locked intensely with Zancrow's own as he came closer.

There were no words exchanged between them as Zancrow put his plate of food down in front of him – just calculating stares, silently sizing the other up. The man pulled his studded eyebrows down into a frown but Zancrow steadily held his gaze.

At the same time they broke eye contact, looking away awkwardly. As Zancrow was about to turn away he heard the sound of metal scraping on ceramic and looked up to see that he had completely missed the fact that he had delivered a plate full of forks. That couldn't be right, surely? Maybe Mirajane had messed up.

However, before Zancrow could do or say anything the man's hand shot out, snatching up one of the forks and crunching down on it without hesitation. He chewed a couple of times and swallowed, looking at Zancrow as if daring him to ask why.

Zancrow was understandably confused. He watched almost transfixed as the man continued to chomp down on the forks, now cramming them in with even less grace than before. Zancrow twitched an eyebrow as if to say "alright then" and went back to the bar to fetch more plates.

"Oh, don't worry about any more, Kinana handled it. We're much less busy now."

"Huh? But I only delivered two!"

"Well… in that time she got seven to their tables."

Zancrow reflected back on all the time he spent arguing or staring at the recipients of his deliveries and immediately understood why Kinana had managed to completely outdo him. Mirajane, thankfully, chose not to point this out.

"Would you stay behind the bar? I just need to go cook a couple more dishes."

Zancrow had absolutely no idea what he was doing but to not appear useless he just nodded and took his place behind the bar, looking behind him at all the bottles of spirits and wine with some confusion. He picked up the closest bottle and examined it closely.

"Lick… oo-ee-ur…. Fuck is this?" he said, holding a bottle of liqueur close to his face, frowning as he read the label.

As it turned out, working behind the bar wasn't that hard. Most Fairy Tail patrons just asked for beer, and that was easy once Zancrow had worked out which tap he needed to use. The glass just seemed to fill with froth as first, but one of the guild members had kindly pointed out that tilting the glass helped to prevent the worst of it. Despite his pride, Zancrow found himself actually enjoying serving the Fairy Tail wizards. It was fun – especially as they got more and more candid about matters as they got drunker and drunker. Zancrow was beginning to find out a lot more about his fellow guild mates as the evening went on.

"And then… I'm not lyin' here… she said that she would go back with him! How crazy is that, huh?" Cana slurred, as she downed her 21st beer of the night.

"Wild, man," Zancrow agreed, as he poured her the 22nd.

Cana smirked lopsidedly as she took her drink.

"Y'know, you're not bad. Even if you're a bit odd looking. I'm sure there's someone here that'd go there."

Zancrow blanched at that, despite his already pallid complexion.

"Soo…. Guys or girls?"

"None of your business. I'm just the barman."

"Aw come on. What's your type?"

"I dunno. Never felt that way about anyone."

"What? Aw, a virgin…"

"Aaaand off you go. Bye bye!" Zancrow said firmly, grasping Cana by the shoulders and turning her towards another table, implying that she should go that way.

Cana simply eyed him over her shoulder victoriously and made her way shakily over to Natsu's table, sitting down heavily and earning a haughty look from Erza. Zancrow wiped down the bar that she had spilled beer all over, thinking. What did he like? He honestly wasn't sure. He'd been so busy thinking about current, pressing matters that love didn't really factor into the equation. He surveyed the scene before him, watching out for all the sordid affairs Cana had clued him into. She wasn't wrong. The blue-haired chick following Gray around was like some kind of watery Labrador, forever at his heels or silently watching from the shadows. And the guy he'd given the forks to earlier was constantly eyeing up possibly the smallest woman Zancrow had ever seen, whenever he thought no one was watching. Zancrow smirked mischievously. Maybe being the barman had its perks. At least he had blackmail fodder.

As he organised the bottles behind him, Zancrow thought he was starting to understand why the Master had requested that he work this job. For one, it forced him to get to know his allied guild mates. For another, he was put into a dutiful role – he had to serve his fellows as an equal. Was Makarov trying to teach him humility? To be truthful to himself, he didn't mind it all that much. Perhaps at first the idea had been repulsive; in Zancrow's head he was being forced into an act of servitude, one that he felt was undeserved. But as the day wore on, Zancrow found that the guild treated him as an equal, with respect, even if many of them didn't trust him in the slightest. The camaraderie was impressive; it didn't feel like being humble when most were so amiable. Besides, finding out so much about the guild most definitely had its benefits. Cana was absolutely getting a free drink on him at some point.

Zancrow slung his cloth over his shoulder as he reached down and pulled out a couple of bottles of Cana's favourite ale out from under the bar (on reflection, anything alcoholic was most likely her favourite). As he straightened up, he saw Mira at his side.

"Hello Zancrow, how's it been going back here?"

Still disconcerted by her never-ending warmth and kindness, Zancrow placed the bottles on the counter one by one.

"Uh, yeah, not bad I think. 'Least I hope so."

Before Mirajane could reply, a hush descended on the guild and Zancrow looked around curiously, wondering what was going on.

Through the large wooden doors of the guild walked a cloaked figure, face hidden by a hood. A navy cloaked billowed around their heels as they made their way up slowly to the bar. Zancrow felt Mirajane push past him slightly and he stood back to allow her to greet the stranger. He reached the bar, tugging his cloak around him slightly. When he spoke, a low, husky voice grumbled out.

"Is Kinana here?"

Without missing a beat, as if this happened often, Mira gave the stranger a serene smile.

"Of course! I'll just go and get her now."

Zancrow felt this strange, squirming rush inside of himself as he heard the man speak. His voice was eerily familiar, but Zancrow could not place it. The guild had now returned back to full volume, past the surprise of the cloaked stranger but Zancrow cocked his head, thinking hard, trying to remember something – anything.

Finally, the stranger pulled back his hood, dark red hair and pointed ears springing free. Zancrow narrowed his eyes. A memory of a face swam before him, but it didn't quite fit. Cobra noticed the intensity of his gaze immediately.

"You good? Or do you want to stare at me a little more?"

The distaste in Cobra's voice was apparent. Zancrow blinked, looking away self-consciously.

"Sorry, just thought I recognised you."

It was Cobra's turn to be surprised. He had never heard Zancrow speak so quietly, so courteously. He didn't have long to probe Zancrow's thoughts; Mirajane had already returned with Kinana in tow, who smiled widely at the sight of him. Matters would have to wait.

Zancrow watched Kinana and her one-eyed partner as they chatted amicably over the bar, a drink in both their hands. He hung back near the kitchen watching quietly, trying not to be noticed. Who was that Kinana was speaking to? And why did he look at Zancrow with such venom, as if he were an enemy? Zancrow chewed at the inside of his cheek, unsettled, a frown on his face.

"What's wrong, Zancrow?"

Zancrow nearly jumped about a foot in the air at Mirajane's question, fully absorbed in his thoughts. Surely she'd know who he was if he was Kinana's boyfriend, right?

"Mira, who the hell is that?" he said in a hurried whisper, trying not to be overheard.

"Oh, don't worry, that's Cobra. He's Kinana's, well…" she giggled lightly, completely unaware of Zancrow's urgency.

"Is he from this guild?"

"Oh, no, he's in an independent guild."

This answered none of Zancrow's questions. Surely if he knew this Cobra they would have been in dark guilds together, surely? But Cobra's hostility spoke otherwise – he clearly disliked him. God knows why. Probably something deplorable, considering Zancrow's history. Zancrow wrinkled his nose in mild irritation. His introductions always started so poorly – he seemed to have a knack for finding precisely the people he had already pissed off.

"Would you mind serving behind the bar again? I'm still a bit busy."

Zancrow started again, already having forgotten that Mirajane was right next to him. He nodded and pushed himself away from the doorframe he had been leaning on. Thankfully, Cobra and Kinana were sat at a table next to the bar, leaving Zancrow to work in peace. He was just about getting into cleaning the place up when he felt someone approach. He looked up. Cobra was stood in front of him, face impassive. He jabbed a finger at Zancrow.

"We need to talk. Tell me when you get off."

Zancrow cocked an eyebrow, already irritated at Cobra's sharp and haughty mannerisms.

"I don't know. Ask Mira. I'm just the dude at the-"

"No you're not. You're Zancrow. And I want a word with you."

Zancrow bristled at being cut off in the middle of his sentence.

"Alright Cobra, I want a word with you too. So stick around and don't get too sloppy with your missus, I'm trying to work."

Cobra's lips curled up at the corners very slightly. He supposed some things about Zancrow didn't change.

I have another short fic in the works too - hopefully I can get a couple of things released soon and beef up my works page.