I'm so sorry that I haven't put another chapter on for ages! I promise I'm not going to give up on this! I've got the plan for the next chapter written already. So... This chapter will have a little more action in it than what's taken place before. I hope that you enjoy!


'This ship is frigging huge,' thought Zancrow. The three of them had been hiking up the corridors for about fifteen minutes now, with many twists and turns along the way. If the ship looked massive from the outside, it was nothing compared to what it was on the inside; the size of a small town! A clever enchantment, and Zancrow quickly got distracted, trying to work out in his head how you would go about doing something like that. How do you make something occupy more space than it really does? Are we all just really small then, when we're inside? Or is this an enchantment to distort our sense of space? After he realised he'd completely lost track of where he was supposed to be going, he shook his head, clearing it of these thoughts – he needed to focus on the mystery at hand.

'It's just up ahead.'

The sound of Rustyrose's voice jolted Zancrow from his musings of space distortion, and he took another good look around him. The corridor was eerily silent, as if uninhabited. Were they the only ones here? Surely the ship could hold thousands of people? He looked to his left, and a gleaming, obviously regularly polished door instantly caught his attention. It looked like any other door in the vessel, apart from the fact that it had letters, each at least six inches high, scorched into the front of it, forming the word in pitch-black letters:

'ZANCROW'.

Noticing that he had found the door, Rustyrose said amusedly,

'Yes, that's your room. Go in if you want to.'

All of a sudden, curiosity gripped Zancrow, and he hastily shoved the door open. He wasn't really sure what he expected, but the room was quite pleasant. The walls were painted in a warm, off-white colour, and thin, burgundy curtains hung above the window. However, the way he had chosen to decorate elsewhere was definitely questionable. The white chest-of-drawers had almost tribal-looking patterns seared all over it, twisting around the handles, down the sides, and swirling on the top. Heaped on top of it were many pictures, presumably of his fellow guild members, and tons of seemingly random items, each with a small note beside it. One was a little red stone, with a message next to it, proclaiming:

'Found this on Galuna Island. Got told it was infused with demon energies, so I kept it.'

Another was a scrap of cloth with a note pinned to it which read:

'Used this to track down our target. They didn't need it after we found him, so I asked to keep it.'

Zancrow winced slightly at this entry, feeling more than a little sorry for the one that they had hunted down, and turned to the pictures. One was an old group photo of what he guessed to be the Seven Kin of Purgatory (there were seven of them, of course). Casting his eyes over the scene, he found himself right away, his spiky blonde hair giving him away. It was just past shoulder length in this photo, and he looked to be perhaps eleven-ish. He was grinning very widely – obviously he was a very confident person, even as a child… His personality was a complete mystery, but he didn't seem to be too pleasant, even quite egotistical… The young girl – younger than him – who was standing next to him looked very shy, looking down, but when this picture was taken, he was clearly ignoring her, more focused on smiling. A fairly young-looking Rustyrose and Kain were recognisable, but the other three faces were an uncertainty. A rather dark-skinned man with a shock of thick brown hair, a young, beautiful woman with long black hair like silk, and a goat…man…thing. Another picture flashed and glimmered in the light overheard and caught Zancrow's sharp scarlet eyes. Eagerly replacing the photo of the Seven Kin, he picked up this new gleaming treasure – his new insight into his past.

This picture was of him and the tiny girl, but they both seemed to be older, he looked about thirteen, maybe fourteen. His arm was around the pink-haired kid and the insane grin was still plastered across his face. She however, only smiled gently, still apparently nervous. Zancrow realised now that this must be his friend, but try as he might, he could not remember her. In his first stream of recalled memories when he had first woken up on the island, he had seen a younger Seven Kin, he knew that now. Her face had been an utter mystery, but here it was, clear as day, and still nothing. Zancrow sat heavily down on the bed, almost glaring at the picture, trying to make himself remember, when a sudden sound of someone clearing their throat made him look up. It was Rustyrose, and he had his arms crossed, looking interestedly around Zancrow's room.

'We were never allowed in here, you know. You'd lose your temper every time we tried. It was like a holy land that no one was allowed to breach apart from yourself.'

When he received no answer from Zancrow, who was utterly absorbed with this picture, with a kind of strained expression on his face, Rustyrose decided to tell him more about Grimoire Heart.

'That's Meredy.'

'Hm?' Was the only reply he received.

'That's Meredy. Your closest friend. You were with her the majority of the time, and when you weren't with her, you were by yourself.'

'My friend…' Zancrow muttered, then sighed. Nothing. He might as well give up. The mystery of the book tempted him now. But when he got up from the bed (the headboard of which was tastefully decorated with more elegant tribal patterns), leaning forwards to replace the photo, he heard a voice echo in his mind. A young girl's voice that weakly yelled in surprise and horror.

'Zancrow?!'

He felt his own lips move then, knowing that what he said now was what he had said with such malevolence back then:

'You are no longer a member of Grimoire Heart.'

'Pardon?'

Rustyrose had picked up on his quiet memory immediately, desperately hoping that Zancrow's memories had returned.

'Nothing…' he retorted quickly, replacing the picture and striding out of the room before he could get flashes of any more unpleasant memories.

'Now, where's this office, huh?' he inquired in what he hoped was a cheerful manor, trying to promptly recover his old demeanour before anyone noticed that he was distinctly miserable. He knew that he had done something cruel back then. To his own friend. What could have driven him to do something like that? To gleefully shun his own nakama from the guild they both had a livelihood in? Mind you, he didn't exactly seem like an overly sweet person from all accounts… Focus on the office, the book, that's what you want, he mentally chided to himself. Turning to Rustyrose and Kain, he pointed towards a gleaming cherry wood door and inquired,

'This is it, ain't it?'

The question hung and echoed in the frigid, dusty air of the corridors, but finally Rustyrose and Kain both nodded, signalling to him that he should go inside. Letting a moment pass in silence, Zancrow cautiously pushed the weighty door open and inched through it, suddenly apprehensive. It was a seemingly normal office inside, complete with an enormous, and expensive-looking, oak desk. There were shelves upon shelves of tomes behind, stretching towards the inexplicably high ceiling, the thick wooden shelves almost seeming to converge at the top. Zancrow felt distinctly dizzy and nauseous as he craned his head up, trying in vain to see the top. Crap! He leapt as he was punched in the back, hard, making him rock forwards. This time the criminal was Kain, who seemed to not know his own strength, and was standing back, face red in embarrassment. Zancrow glared at him for a long while, hoping to make him uncomfortable – this was twice in one day – then turned and made his way to the massive wooden slab that was Hades' workspace. A slim black book, ragged and innocent looking, with a cover of leather, sat limp and out of place on it. Very wary, Zancrow picked it up by the corner, and held it at a distance, taking note of every nook, cranny and pock-mark of the book before finally opening it to a random page, and began to read:

Zancrow (it said on the yellowing paper), has consumed the blood for the first time at 8 years old. I had my suspicions that his body would be too weak and frail at this age, but it was crucial for the change to begin as soon as possible. Thankfully, his body has managed to survive, but his temper has now become extremely hot, and his aggressive behaviour has drastically increased. His physical and magical strength however, have phenomenally increased, making me think that this experiment is not a failure after all.

As Zancrow flicked thorough more of the pages, his heart sinking to somewhere around his stomach, he read passage upon passage about his violent and explosive attitude, how much of the blood he had ingested, increased 'dosages', when he got sick, how fast he got better, and then he knew… He was just an experiment. Nothing more. Not a real human being, capable of complex thoughts and emotions. Just an experiment. He was being fed blood and notes were being taken to see how much he had changed. Why would someone do something like that?! That's disgusting! That's… That's repulsive! And that memory… With the tall man and the goblet….filled with that foul liquid. That was blood. Zancrow gagged then, dropping the book and clutching the desk with both hands, leaning over it and retching. He really thought that he was going to be sick, and he didn't give a damn about Rustyrose and Kain, who he knew would be staring at him. Thankfully, they weren't saying anything, and Zancrow tried desperately to pull himself together, acting like nothing had happened. He chanced a quick looked over his shoulder at them, and could see questions burning in their eyes. Ignoring this, he once again picked up the little notebook that was brimming with all things ghastly, and flicked to an earlier page. Scrawled across the page in crimson ink, the letters spelt out:

'Source of Demon Blood: Chiroptera.'

Demon blood? So it gets worse. And to think that he's actually woken up this morning thinking that today may be a little better. Slightly stunned, but oddly none too surprised at the turn of events, he wondered what demon blood would do to a human being. It would explain why he looked so different for a start… And why his behaviour was so unpredictable, according to the notes… He felt dirty and contaminated, like he was controlled by something inside of him that was bursting to get free from its prison inside his soul. Rage was not rage, it was the ugly creature inside rearing and bearing its fangs, razing all before it to the ground. Zancrow was just its puppet, its tool in its quest to purge and destroy. His heart and soul and mind were corrupted, merely controlled by this beast spawned from hellfire. He felt like a slave to his emotions, a slave to the devil who possessed him. Emotions did not feel like just emotions anymore – they were giving in. Zancrow could not bear to read anymore. Sharply snapping the book shut with one hand, his back to his audience, he suddenly noticed with horror that his face felt hot and wet. No way was he crying. He hoped to God that they hadn't noticed. Surreptitiously wiping his eyes, he refused to let his emotions get a hold of him, and said in as strong a voice as he could muster:

'Where is he?

Rustyrose's voice rang strangely in the chamber.

'Who do you mean?'

'Don't play dumb with me. You know what I mean. Who was the master? Where is he now?'

He had spun around now, meeting Rustyrose's level gaze with his own furious one. What would he do with their Master once he found him though? Hurt him? Question him? Force him to tell the truth? Zancrow wasn't sure, all he knew was that he needed to see him. Now.

'Master Hades is dead.'

The words hung in the room, the echoes making them sound empty and hollow, and Rustyrose spoke with no emotion, no feeling, no sorrow.

Disappointment mixed with a strange emotion Zancrow could not identify cascaded down upon him, and the overwhelming surge made him slam the evil black notebook down on the table, and exclaim in a voice that shook with barely contained anger and upset,

'I've had enough of all this goddamn freaky crap.'

Rustyrose and Kain daren't speak, for fear of triggering a real rage-fuelled outburst they knew he was capable of. What was perhaps more frightening was the fact that, as he did not have any memories, Zancrow could not remember his blindingly hot temper, and as a result, did now know how to keep it under control. Though, he seemed to be calming down… That was something that they had never seen before. Him actually trying to keep his anger in, trying to stop it from taking over. Usually he was just a beast on a rampage until Master Hades told him enough was enough. When it came to his temper, he ignored even Meredy at times. Perhaps his experiences had given him a new outlook. Rustyrose looked to him, seeing that he was about to speak.

'And this time, I'm really leaving. No more games.'

Rustyrose so dearly wanted to know about the contents of the book, and he knew that he would never be allowed to set eyes upon it – after seeing the way Zancrow reacted to it, there must be something repulsive and macabre in there. He had to know. Knowing Kain felt the same way from his hungry expression, Rustyrose decided that he would wrestle that notebook from the blonde's cold dead hands. He had hoped that Zancrow would have stayed, memories intact, and explained all he knew. It was a shame that it had to be this way. Building up magical power in his body, preparing to use it, feeling Kain at his side do the same, he advanced on his once-ally, who did not even flinch, back away or even looked surprised, just merely raised hot fists, black fire beginning to bloom on them.

So it was a fight to the death, huh? Zancrow knew that they wanted the book, but he didn't know they wanted it that desperately. Quick as a flash, he put the notebook into the pocket of his baggy red trousers, and swiftly covered it with the cloth that went over them. The book would be safe in there, there was no chance of it being plucked out of the pocket in the midst of the fight he knew was fast approaching. Being a wizard himself – and a skilled one at that – he could sense the magic power building in the two – both felt like… Forbidden magic? Magic that should never be used… Probing deeper into the magic he could feel, he knew that Rustyrose was building up his power slowly – using weaker attacks first, then using stronger and stronger spells to get an insight into Zancrow's fighting style and ability. The Flame God lazily flicked his eyes over to Kain, and sensed that the massive mage was prepared to go all out from the first second. Their tactic was blindingly obvious and simple – Kain would charge straight for him, using a hell of a lot of power, grabbing Zancrow's attention right away and making him fight with all focus on his charge. Rustyrose, however, from the side lines, would make the odd strong jab at him, wearing the God Slayer down, and when Kain and Zancrow got tired, would deliver the finishing blow. Zancrow rolled those huge red orbs, and in the space of a few more seconds, worked out his own tactic. It was two against one, so he had to be clever, and use as much trickery as he could. He had to start off slow, take a few hits and get a feel for their own ability and style. Once his magic power was high, and Kain was losing his touch somewhat, he would strike Rustyrose as quickly as he could with a fairly powerful burst of magic, he didn't want to wear himself out. Afterwards, he would deal with Kain. He knew that they were on fairly equal footing, the fight could easily go either way, so it was all about being cautious. Keeping his guard up for Kain trying to help his partner seemed like a smart choice. Rustyrose then laughed, a cruel, condescending laugh.

'Do you really think you can defeat us in battle? We, who have seven more years of experience than yourself?'

Zancrow was understandably confused.

''Seven more years of experience'? What are you on about?'

'I mean, that when you remained on the island of Tenroujima, not only did you seemingly die, and rise from the dead, you were also caught up in the Fairy's Spell, the Fairy Sphere, which caused you to fall into a comatose state for seven years, never aging, whilst the rest of the world; unaware and unaffected, has gone on. You have had, in a sense, seven empty years.'

Having had so many different surprising and unforeseen turns of events in one day, Zancrow couldn't honestly feel much shock. He had thought that the photographs had looked a little fishy, but had decided to dismiss his concern in favour of the mystery of the book. He now realised that in the photo where he had looked about eleven, Kain and Rustyrose appeared to be about thirteen, at a guess. Being around eighteen himself (Of course, he could not remember, and was not completely certain), it would make sense for Kain and Rustyrose to be around twenty years old now. But they weren't. They were older. Quite a lot older, on closer inspection. Doing the maths in his head, he calculated that Kain and Rustyrose must both be around twenty-seven now, and instead of him being around twenty-five, he had missed seven years of his life, staying young at eighteen. Well, he would be more flexible and supple in a fight, he had that advantage. He was intently focused on getting away right now, not fussed about panicking and worrying about the time that he had lost.

Perhaps… A speech? As a distraction? Would that work? For a minute, all attention would be on him, but maybe, just maybe, their guard would be down… But Zancrow wasn't good with his words. With his fists, certainly, and usually, they did the talking. But speaking to his two ex-comrades may just allow him to strike the first blow, and escape without much battling taking place… It seemed a good tactic, and it was time to put it to use…

'I don't care how much of my life is missing.'

His fists burst into flames.

'I don't care that you seem to think that you're better than me, because of this.'

He advanced on them, his broad shoulders taught with anticipation.

I don't care that our Master is dead.'

Closer.

'I don't even care that I couldn't remember my own name.'

Close enough to see his flaming, blood-red eyes.

'And do you know what I care about the least?'

Head held low, he looked up at the two, a wicked, malevolent smirk stretched across his face.

'I don't care…'

He had bent his knees, hands at his right side, forming a swirling ball of black fire.

'That I'm half-'

The flames grew ever larger, casting an ominous black shadow over the room.

'Goddamn-'

He sprang forwards, fire now blazing in each hand and Rustyrose leapt upwards to meet him at his height.

'DEMON!' Zancrow shrieked, smashing a burning fist downwards on Rustyrose's head, other hand thrown upwards, madly clenched as if he had claws. One eye was shut, his tongue lolling horribly out of his mouth. Rustyrose's limp body crashed to the floor, as Zancrow landed lightly on his feet, facing Kain. Holding his arms out wide, he challenged Kain with a peal of ringing laughter. It was a truly insane laugh, and Zancrow, arms still spread wide, leant over to one side, his psychotic leer dominating his face.

Intimidated, but still determined to get vengeance for his comrade, Kain rushed at Zancrow, fist raised.

'Uhahahaha! I don't care! I really don't care!' Zancrow yelled as he dodged the punch, and rapidly replied with a strong flame-fuelled strike of his own, knocking the huge mage backwards, smashing him – with a sickening crunch – into the wall of the ship. Promptly pulling himself back up, Kain launched his massive form at Zancrow who had now stopped laughing in favour of concentrating on the fight. They met in the air, Kain's aggressive kick parried by the somewhat smaller, but no less powerful fire mage. He looked ready to kill, his knife-like teeth bared, eyes fixed fiercely on his foe.

Jumping back, they both knew that the time had come to strike their finishing blows. As Kain fumbled about with 'Mr Cursey', Zancrow summoned his seal with a vast sweep of his arm, a black-as-night seal that burnt with an eerie dark light.

'Enjin no…'

He readied one of his most powerful attacks at full force, with as much magical strength as he could muster. Kain had started to pluck out one of his hairs when Zancrow released his magic, such a massive wave of it, that Zancrow felt a primitive prickle of excitement deep inside of him.

'DOGOU!'

The Flame God's Bellow easily blasted a clean, round hole in the wall of the ship, carrying Kain with it, and at the moment the pulse hit him, Zancrow stood fiercely triumphant inside the vessel, his devilish smile in place.

'If you mess with divine flames, you'll sure as hell end up getting divine punishment!'

The last thing that Kain heard as he was catapulted into the sky was the sound of maniacal laughter, cackling in victory.


I hoped that you liked this chapter, and I really will have the next one up soon! Any reviews would be gratefully accepted, as this is my first fanfiction. See you next chapter!