They called him a monster for caring for his younger sister. He called them hypocrites as he drove them away several months ago, noting all the favours he had ever done for them. They spat on his face and left while talking of all the things they had done for his family.

Where were they when word spread of a monster in the church? Where were they when he and his siblings were left orphaned after the death of their parents? Nowhere. Quite frankly, he didn't really care anymore.

Archer sighed as he noticed the growing grime and tears on his clothes, dreading another heated argument with his siblings. But the condition of his clothes wasn't exactly his fault. Ever since that day in the church, he had found it increasingly more difficult to earn a living for his siblings. Cooking aside, no one would hire him for any common jobs such as sewing, or tending a stall like they used to. His line of work more readily involved dealing with wild livestock, and hard labour in the farms. Even then; he was always only payed enough to feed himself, and it frustrated him to no end.

He wiped the mud off his shirt and inadvertently tore it in two from the neck down. He grimaced, but he took solace in the fact that his siblings were in better condition, he had made sure of it. They were children, let him, the man of the house, provide for them. He had lived through war and fires that scorched the very earth, what was living like a poor sap compared to that?

Apparently, his siblings saw differently. He scratched awkwardly at the back of his head in a familiar gesture that soured his mood further.

Lisanna stared tear eyed at him as he approached the modest home at the end of a muddy dirt road. The windows were cracked and even from his distance, he could smell the pungent fragrance of mold. Quite suddenly, he once again entertained the idea of destroying the village for tormenting his siblings.

Kill the few to save the many.

He frowned, but didn't allow for it to show on his face. The few was his family, and the many were the villagers? He clenched his fists before he shook his head, the action jolting Lisanna out of her daze.

"Y-Your clothes," Lisanna stuttered as she ran up and hugged him, uncaring about how the dirt rubbed against her clean dress. "It's not fair!" She yelled.

Archer noticed movement in the house and knew that it would only be a matter of time before Mirajane and Elfman came out. He bit his lip as he noticed Lisanna press her face harder against his chest to hide her tears.

Kill the few to save the many.

He knelt down and hugged her, one hand gently rubbing her head as she began to sob.

Mirajane burst out through the door of their house, her eyes seeming to catch fire as they landed on him and Lisanna. "Those Bastards." If forcing her brother to work in deplorable conditions wasn't enough, they had the gall to even destroy his clothes?! Her arm transformed erratically from a monster's, to her regular arm as her magic seeped out of control due to her raging emotions.

Archer met her gaze, and shook his head. It wasn't worth it. Elfman was of the same mind set as he tried and failed to calm down Mirajane.

Archer picked up Lisanna in his arms and walked towards Elfman and Mirajane. He bowed his head. "I'm sorry," he spoke. "I'll work harder for all of us." He would go hunting again, bring meat to the house rather than half spoiled vegetables and milk. Lisanna, Elfman, and Mirajane didn't deserve that, they deserved better.

He ignored his own needs again, Elfman noted dejectedly, eyes staring at his brother's state. Each stain and tear on his brother's clothes were like a physical blow to him.

Hearing Archer's words, the fire extinguished from Mirajane's eyes. She nearly choked on her own disbelief. Archer, no; Shirou had done enough for them. How could he possibly continue to blame himself for their situation? It was her fault. If she had listened to him, none of this would have ever happened, and yet he implied it was his fault? She closed her eyes and crossed her arms, trying to get control of her emotions and stop her arm from transforming. To hell with this village.

"Let me…Let me help you." Elfman insisted as he made to take off his coat and hand it to Archer. His brother did everything he could for his family. A man amongst men. Elfman hardened his resolve, but couldn't stop his eyes from watering like Lisanna's.

Archer put a hand on Elfman's shoulders, stopping him from removing his coat. "You need it more," he spoke. "I remember that you said that the house was too cold. Besides," He swelled his chest up and put on a grin like their deceased father. "A Man must protect his family."

Elfman couldn't stop the tears. Archer was so much like their father, smiling in the face of misfortune. He hugged his brother like Lisanna had, taking comfort in his brother's warmth.

Archer smiled wryly, somethings never change. He stared expectantly at Mirajane. "I'm not a cry baby," she said as she huffed and turned away.

Archer placed Lisanna down, and stared Elfman, Lisanna, and Mirajane in the face. "We're going to have meat today."

Watching him return only to leave for work once again infuriated Mirajane to no end. It was the people's fault. What did her brother ever do to encourage their ire? Absolutely nothing.

"Mira-nee, you're making that face again," Elfman spoke demurely, shying away as Mirajane glared in response.

Elfman shut his mouth and returned to siting on the couch, excited about the prospects of a hearty meal.

"Meat meat meat!" Lisanna spoke giddily as she played with the dolls Shirou had bought for her. "Meat for me, and meat for Elf-nee and Mira-nee!"

The tension in Mirajane's shoulders lifted watching the spirit return to her siblings after many months of meager meals. She could understand as the eldest sister why Shirou worked so hard. The smiles on Lisanna and Elfman's faces, she could easily relate.

Mirajane glanced down as Lisanna walked up to her and held out her favorite doll. She smiled at the notion and patted Lisanna's head before urging her to continue her playing. The time for dolls and dress-up had long since passed for her, not since her mother had died. She was content to just watch as Lisanna coerced Elfman into playing with her, the lovable dolt.

Now the only thing missing was Shirou.

She crossed her arms and sat petulantly on the couch. One day, she swore she would make this up to him; buy him the best clothes and items he deserved. Her eyes soon drifted onto her arm, the cause of her family's misfortune.

Opening her palm, she inspected her entire arm, turning it back and forth. A Demon's arm, or a monster's arm, in the end it didn't really matter. It was her arm. Was she really a monster? She shivered, her wild emotions draining her of her energy.

"M-Mira-nee."

Mirajane looked up at Lisanna and Elfman. What was the problem?

"T-There are people outside," Elfman spoke quietly as he peered out the window.

Mirajane's blood ran cold, her eyes noticing the dull glow of orange flame. Oh God. T-They wouldn't. They couldn't! She was panicking and Elfman and Lisanna knew it. Her arm transformed, but she hardly noticed it in her own denial.

The flicker of embers beating against the window frame drove her into action. She was the oldest at the moment. She was the one Elfman and Lisanna were relying on, their hesitant gazes all but solidifying her assumption. Her body shook, her hands growing clammy from fear, but still the embers continued to increase. A fire was coming.

"Elfman, Lisanna, OUT OF THE HOUSE!" She yelled.

A window shattered, a rock rolling loudly across the stone floor.

Archer knocked an arrow over his bow and silently waded through the foliage of the forest. His prey was near, a large deer with its antlers yet to fully grow. He stopped and perched himself atop a tree branch, taking his time to aim.

He closed his eyes, picturing the smiles on his siblings faces as they sunk their teeth into meat. He'd make burgers, something they've never tasted before. He had the materials, the salt and pepper from his time working in the markets, and any herbs he may or may not have pilfered from his time working in the plantations.

The arrow was let loose no sooner as Archer had opened his eyes, piercing clean-through the deer's head. A quick death. A mercy.

Jumping down the tree, Archer made his way to dinner, continuing to think about ways to make his family happy. Lisanna was a simple girl who was content with the little things like toys, dolls, and flower crowns. Elfman was rather timid, but he knew the correct values in a person and didn't ask him for anything but company. Mirajane however, she was different.

Archer knelt beside the deer and quickly removed the clinging dirt and grime like his father had taught him. If only Mirajane could recall what their mother had once said.

Being different doesn't mean your any less, or anymore than the friends around you.

Miranjane wasn't a monster. She had just somehow performed magic, a feat normally reserved for Wizards of the world he found himself in. However, the type of magic was unique and seemed to stem from their family. He could sense it inside Mirajane, Elfman, Lisanna, and himself, each slightly different, and he would show her the first chance he got. However, he seemed to be unable to grasp one thing about the particular magic. Therefore, for the time being, he would have to find a way to convince her, and a hearty meal was a good start.

One day, when he made enough money, he would get his family out of this village and into the Kingdom of Fiore. If he left with them now or in the past, they would have had nowhere to go or live. Making money as a Wizard was appealing to him, but he couldn't allow himself to leave his siblings behind. He smiled wryly as he thought back to his most recent discovery.

His siblings had strong magical cores, a concept he had grasped upon structurally analyzing them. All that was left was to teach them how to use it. One day, all of them could be Wizards. One day they would all get out of this village. The thought was invigorating.

Securing the deer onto his shoulder, he began the trek home, content to enjoy the late afternoon breeze.

His heart dropped as his breathing quickened.

His home burned in the distance, the smell of smoke creating a sinking sensation in his stomach. Step after step, his body grew cold as his face revealed more of his disbelief. He had lived through war, and countless battles, but this. This was-

His eyes were able to see Elfman and Lisanna cowering behind Mirajane's trembling back; patches of bruised skin showing from beneath all their clothes.

His ears could hear the jeers and calls for death.

And the weight on his back all but assured that what lay before him was reality. Something snapped, a piece fell into place, and suddenly he was there, an embodiment of restrained anger and fury.

The deer over his shoulder dropped callously against the ground, the thump echoing in the sudden silence his presence brought over. It unnerved those pointing pitch forks at him almost as much his gaze cowed the torch bearer carrying the flame.

"You, all of you. Monsters," he spoke quietly, but all could hear the raging storm beneath his words. "Monster, witch, devil, you all called my sister." They could feel the very air shifting, forming murky images of rotating gears and malformed weapons. "You want to see a monster?"

I wanted to be hero once. So, no matter how tainted and buried in blood that Ideal may be, just this once- Archer took a step forward. -Let me be the hero. 'Take Over.' The phrase popped inside his head. "Then I'll show you what kind of monster I can be."

Thanks for reading and a big thank you to my first patron Eric. I really do appreciate it.

P a treon. com (slash) Parcasious

Next update: Vasto of White

-Parcasious