I'm back again! Hopefully I'm getting a little more regular with my chapters... Just a little somethin' that was mentioned to me, I really like to use single inverted commas when I use dialogue (I'm sorry, it's just the way that I like to write!), and I use italics when a character is thinking (I think that one's quite common... I think)! This time, Zancrow will find out just a little more about who he really is... Hope you all enjoy it!
The two walked in solemn silence through the pitch-black and (Zancrow noted) unguarded streets. The only sounds that broke the seal of quiet were the soft pattering of the dismal rain that was beginning to ease off and the sharp 'clack' of Zancrow's and Gray's footsteps on the slick stones beneath their boots. They had continued in this fashion for some time and their feet were beginning to ache when all of a sudden Gray stopped so abruptly that Zancrow almost walked into him. Following where the ice wizard was looking, he realised why he had ground to a halt. This must be the guild. Fairy Tail. The light emanating through the front doors was warm and inviting, at odds with the dreary and grey houses that lined the streets. And it was so loud. Even from half way down the street the sounds of people making merry could be heard – laughter, the clank of glasses, and a lot of animated shouting. At his side, Gray sighed and looked down somewhat despondently.
'They must have taken it too far again… Like usual I suppose.'
Too far? They must be as lively as he says, sounds like a good rumble going on in there. Zancrow liked it. A good, mindless fight was a source of great enjoyment. When wizards fight together, it's so much more than a test of strength, a battle can convey complex emotions that words alone simply cannot express. Pride… guilt… anger… desperation, and even friendship. Fighting, odd though it may seem, brings others close, allowing them to understand each other's feelings better than they could before. A little part of Zancrow – perhaps the more childish, innocent side of himself – could hardly wait to get inside. But, he sternly reminded himself, I'm not here to play. I'm here to have a roof over my head, to find some work, and to make some 'friends' that might come in handy. Nothing more. As soon as I've got enough earnings, I'll be outta here like a bat outta hell.
'Well, we might as well go in. Come on, Zag, I'll show you around.'
Gray gestured for Zancrow to enter the bright building, and Zancrow himself, without a moment's thought, followed eager to see inside the guild.
The shouting, thankfully, had died down now with gentle chatter taking over. However, there was some harsh bickering going on at one of the tables, but most ignored it in favour of talking or drinking. Gray began to lead his new ally towards the arguing group when the rowdiest of them all, the pink-headed Natsu Dragneel fell immediately silent, staring at the new arrival. Zancrow felt his eyes pierce into him – cold, sharp eyes filled with a fiery hatred, filled with a primitive and ancient power somehow unalike any human's. As if controlled by some strange instinct, Zancrow felt himself sinking into an awkward crouch, beginning to fell a scowl forming on his face, almost a baring of teeth. It just seemed like an automatic reaction, and he found that the sharp-eyed stranger was behaving in a similar manner, crouching on the table, pulling his lips back over sharp white fangs. Zancrow noted, with a sensation not unlike unease, that this stranger looked similar to himself but with bizarre differences. Their face shape was eerily alike, their builds both muscular and slim, and their height was almost the same… The group that was once rife with noise and vigour was now intently watching their comrade, intrigued by what had transpired. Gray didn't speak, but looked somewhat shocked, an expression of horror slowly dawning on his face. The whole guild was deathly quiet and still now, observing the two in their silent face-off.
'You…'
The aggressor finally spoke in a voice that seethed with barely contained fury and loathing. Realising that it would be best to keep his mouth shut and let this all blow over, Zancrow did not respond. He had met this one before, and obviously their relationship was not a positive one. Looking his potential opponent up and down for weaknesses, Zancrow noticed with a pang of something a little like alarm, that he had never seen a person look so angry before. His pink-hair quivered with indignation and rancour, his body shaking from head to foot, fists clenched, teeth clenched, every muscle tensed for battle. And his eyes. His eyes. They were giving him the kind of look that could turn you to stone, that could freeze your heart mid-beat and make it stutter. The savage ferocity and intensity they held were only matched by Zancrow's own red orbs, which were glaring, unfazed, straight back. His own glower was starting to attract the attention of many of the guild members, and the whole guild was utterly focused on the scene before them.
'Nats-?' a blonde began.
'YOU!' the spiky-haired menace screeched, a yell so loud it must have torn at his throat. Zancrow held his defensive posture without flinching, staring directly into his eyes, reluctant to drop his gaze. "You"? What had he done? It couldn't be possible that he knew these people too… right? And what had he done to warrant such unfriendly treatment? This was a stupid idea. He should have gone into hiding and found out who he really was before doing something so bold as joining a guild! He was a criminal for God's sake! He used to be a part of a dark guild! One of the strongest dark guilds in their country, supposedly. He shouldn't be here. Looks like he was going to be found out and arrested anyway… With a heavy heart, he pulled himself back to the present – Evil-eyes had cranked up again:
'What the hell are you doing here?!'
Zancrow couldn't help it, he was angry, tired, and more than a little anxious over what he might have done. Sounding far too defensive, he worded his reply with gritted teeth:
'I don't understand what you're on about!' he howled. 'I ain't done nothing! I ain't even seen you before!'
His confrontational tone riled up the Fire Dragon Slayer, who retorted with, 'You liar… Don't you dare try and lie! We all know who you are! We all know what you've done! You tried to tear our guild apart, just admit it!' was his accusatory retort, his voice burning with hatred.
Though Zancrow was starting to doubt himself and the response he was preparing, he decided to speak anyway and dearly hoped that someone would come and break up this mess.
'I hurt nobody!'
As he shouted his reply to the wizard's furious declaration, a prickle of uncertainty clawed its way down his back, sending a cold, guilty shiver up his spine, and icy sweat rolling down his skin. He must have done something really evil; nobody reacts with such anger without a good reason. Almost sighing, he grimly observed that this was yet another person that he had hurt, not even going into what he had done with Grimoire. Did he really feel bad about it though? Was it guilt, or just fear that he might be caught? He was certainly apprehensive about when this would all come out, and the magical government would start hunting him down; but did he regret committing crimes for himself and his own freedom, or did he regret carrying them out because it was ruining other's lives? Despite that, the worst of it all was the inability to remember. He couldn't remember anything about those he had treated with unkindness, having these secrets of the past revealed to him in confrontations such as these. Every time he met someone's eyes now, it seemed to be with animosity that they looked at him, and as he listlessly glanced around the room, every pair of eyes looked suspicious and wary, some members edging closer to their friends for safety, other slowly stepping back. There was no kindness or warmth there, and the loneliness and isolation he was beginning to feel culminated in a loud, cruel, humourless cackle. He couldn't stop. Ringing laughter exploded from his mouth, and he threw his head back and let the laughter take its course. It didn't matter what anyone thought. Who cared? He was alone anyway. The guild was starting to become noisy, people muttering concernedly amongst themselves about the blonde creep Gray had brought in from the streets. Who was he? Natsu clearly knew him, but none of them had ever seen him before. They all came to the conclusion that they knew his name, but not his face. The blonde just stood there, head to the sky, eyes closed, a relentless stream of laughter pouring out of his throat. Gradually, the paroxysms of laughter subsided into weak giggling, and the Fairy Tail guild – now even more suspicious of this outsider – neared slightly. His sharp-eyed opponent grinned, a victorious, toothy smile and rumbled,
'That just settles it. You're Zancrow! The God Slayer of Grimy Warts!'
Whisper whisper.
'I mean, the God Slayer of Grimoire Heart!'
The building went deathly quiet, the only sounds that could be heard were the hammering of rain outside which had made a fresh resurgence, and the odd mighty crack of thunder. Zancrow's outburst had left him feeling weak and out of control, like the demon inside of him had won. Deep in one of the recesses of his mind, a part that was still sane registered what had transpired. Oh no. Oh no-no-no. This is bad. They know who I am now. They know who I've been affiliated with. And they won't like it. Gray will realise that I've been lying to him. It looks terrible from their point of view: an elite of Grimoire Heart, hell bent on revenge, attempts to get close to one of their members, gain their trust, and destroy them from the inside. He could perfectly understand why they would react like this, but what had he even done in the first place? Something about trying to tear their guild apart… It's just like with Rustyrose and Kain! What were the odds that I'd know these people?! Well… they know me at least. But what I've done is obviously so appalling that they'll spurn me like this. If only I could remember! For God's sake it can't be that bad! Why don't you just forgive and forget and let this whole thing blow over, I only came here to find some work, not to see a drama. What's Pinky's issue? Hold on. Pinky.
A flood of memories streamed into Zancrow's mind, sudden and unwelcome. No, not now! Not when he needed to focus on the problem at hand. But the memories continued to invade his mind and swallow his conscious thoughts.
'…To your own nakama!' a furious Pinky exclaimed. In the memory, the pink-haired monstrosity stood at the foot of a tall cliff, and Zancrow stood proudly at the peak, glaring down condescendingly at the pest. He was on top of the cliff, on top of the world. An unstoppable force of nature; an unstoppable God. And when he spoke, a sneering, haughty and egotistical voice thundered out.
'Nakama? I don't wanna hear some two-bit, weak little guild lecture me!'
With a broad sweep of his arm, he released a wave of swirling black flames, engulfing the small figure beneath him. As the memory gradually faded away, the last thing that he heard was a high voice, screaming "don't" in terror. Another though flickered in Zancrow's subconscious, bringing forward a recollection of standing tall and strong, ready to strike his opponent down with a mighty bellow.
'This is the magic of Grimoire Heart! Enjin no… DOGOU!'
And the memories just kept on coming.
'The dragon hunter, gramps, or little old me! I wonder who's gonna kick the bucket first?!'
'You're all too damn weak! Seriously!'
'God flames love to devour mages…'
'I can handle this guy myself.'
'Jellal right? Master Zero right? You beat all those nobodies and you think you're such hot stuff.'
He gasped as he felt the air being squeezed out of him – the memory was so strong that he could feel physical pain as an invisible hand gripped him tightly and would not let go.
'No more…'
The voice of an old man, strong but softer in his older age demanded him to release Pinky from his magic.
'Just try hurting this boy anymore in front of me! I will crush you down to the bone!'
Zancrow felt the fist clench even tighter, and he choked and fought for breath, letting out a constricted yell which he hastily stifled. Quickly recovering and trying to sound confident and nonchalant, he simply replied with,
'You got enough strength left in ya?'
Eager to get this over with – he felt light-headed and his ribs were being crushed excruciatingly tightly – he attempted to make the man free him.
'Come on. Let go. 'Cause if you don't, it's gonna be your arm that's gone.'
Igniting himself with his black God's flames, he waited for the pressure to reduce. But it didn't. The old man only clenched tighter. Zancrow gave another hoarse choke and squirmed, trying to twist around and stared behind in shock and horror.
'Y-you're squeezing harder?!' he exclaimed shakily, trying not to gag.
'Never… underestimate… the bonds of family!'
The scene before him abruptly cut off at this point; Zancrow had to block sharply as an incoming flaming fist threw itself at him. Pinky was throwing wave after wave of relentless punches, and Zancrow struggled, but managed to block every one. So it was him. The very same Pinky that he had fought on the island. Who left him for dead. But even though his attacks were fierce and fuelled with hatred, Zancrow knew somehow that his sharp-eyed opponent would not kill him. Just really mess him up. So who did try to end his life? No time to think. Pinky tried to slam fist after fist into Zancrow, who managed again to block and dodge every hit. The dragon hunter fought with little skill, rage dictating his movements, head clouded with thoughts of revenge. Zancrow had no desire to retaliate, he didn't want to make his situation look worse. Despite the welcome he had received, he still wanted to make as good a first impression as he could on other members. He refused to let one idiot beat him, he needed somewhere to stay and somewhere to work, and it was going to take every sly bone in his body to get it. Just as he was planning his speech to the head honcho, a voice that was hoarse with age, but still filled with a wise authority bellowed:
'Enough! Natsu! That is enough! Do not provoke that man anymore!'
Immediately, but reluctantly, Natsu's attacks ceased, but he shot Zancrow a filthy look that said quite clearly "I'm not finished with you", and sloped off. If looks could kill… But that voice, Zancrow wondered, is it really the one from my thoughts…? It's not possible. Not a chance. The details of the memory were already fading away, like a bad dream that was impossible to remember in the morning. Already, Zancrow had forgotten the majority of what had happened, and the voice was only faintly recognisable. He looked up in the direction of the speaker, who turned out to be rather short old man, standing at the top of a staircase that connected the first and second floor of the building. He seemed to radiate an ancient power, different to the wizards that surrounded him. Despite his diminutive stature, Zancrow knew that this man was incredibly powerful, able to wield magic that other mages could only dream of. The aging wizard sought Zancrow gaze and held it sharply, stepping slowly down the stairs towards him. The guild held its breath as one entity, concerned by the fact that their master had decided to take an interest in this affair. He had finally reached Zancrow, who was frozen and speechless, not wanting to give this man any reason to become angry at him as well. If he stayed still and silent, unresponsive and unreactive, then no one would have any reason to become angry at him or harm him. He wasn't scared, but cautious. The old man spoke.
'Leave.'
Zancrow refused to speak or offer any kind of acknowledgment, hoping that their master would elaborate before he began to make an explanation of his own. If he chose his words correctly, perhaps he could change their minds. He couldn't even remember what he'd done in the first place, so he should probably admit to that to start with. As he finally opened his mouth to voice his thoughts, the master of Fairy Tail had already begun to speak again.
'You need to leave this place. You have hurt us far too much to ever be trusted here.'
Silence. Zancrow decided now wasn't the time.
'Go back to Grimoire Heart. Go back to Hades.'
The sixth master of Fairy Tail's face tightened as he thought bitterly, Go back to Purehito. Slack-faced, praying that no emotion showed on his face, Zancrow replied as tonelessly as he could,
'Master Hades is dead.'
A long pause met this statement, no one dared to break the taboo, but Zancrow did not care.
'I've left Grimoire Heart now.'
Makarov felt an odd mix of emotions, a sort of wonderful relief and awful sadness. Hades was dead and yet he did not care about that. But, Purehito was gone. No. Purehito left a long time ago. So had one of his puppets finally decided to start afresh? Or was this simply a ruse? He hated Zancrow dearly for the way he treated human life – like it was disposable, and worth nothing. He hated him for the way he had hurt his children. He was exactly like Hades wanted him to be. With a pang of unwanted sympathy that was quickly buried, Makarov realised that Zancrow had really been a tool all this time. The problem was though, was he still wrapped around Hades' finger, or was he his own man and sincere, coming here in search of a new life?
'Why did you leave the guild that you were so intensely loyal to, and come here?'
He received an answer that was not completely devoid of emotion, but perhaps a little sad and frustrated.
'I can't remember.'
'You can't remember why you left?'
The time was now to tell them. This wasn't even a lie, it was the complete truth! There were all sorts of ways they could manipulate this information – tell him lies about his past, who he was, who he was affiliated with – but it seemed important to communicate his confusion to the master. Maybe, a sly voice whispered in Zancrow's ear, not only would you get more information about your guild this way, the master would go easy on you as well, if you told him of your memory loss… It was a perfect plan, and Zancrow answered Makarov with a shadow of a smile.
'No. I can't remember anything.'
The guild daren't chatter for fear of missing any of the action, but it was apparent from the looks on their faces that each and every one of them was distinctly surprised. Enjoying the attention for a second, Zancrow basked in the limelight and waited for an opportunity to continue.
'Nothing. Not even my name. I only found out today who I was and what guild I belonged to. I didn't like Grimoire anymore, so I came here instead.'
He glanced around, savouring the looks of shock. He fancied that there was something a little sympathetic in some of their looks, and decided that now would the perfect time for a forlorn apology. He didn't exactly relish being pitied, but it could be exactly the thing that could get him in this guild. Zancrow didn't really know why he was trying so hard to win these wizards over and join their guild. It would be simple enough to find another place out in the sticks that had never heard of him, or to join another dark guild. Maybe there was just a little something about Fairy Tail that he quite liked… Or maybe it was just because he had come this far, and it was still more convenient to push onwards. Whatever the reason, he really had to swallow his pride now, and make a convincing expression of regret. Again, he glimpsed at each wizard briefly, and began to speak.
'I have no idea what I did to make you all resent me so much but,'
Here he focused hard on Natsu and attempted to forget his ego.
'I'm sorry.' There. He'd said it. 'I must have been awful. I'll go now, and I swear that I'll never go near you again, if that's what you want.'
He turned to leave, drooping his head and his shoulders theatrically. When he was right in the doorframe, about to get drenched by the rain, a voice sounded behind him.
'What makes you think that I should believe you?'
It was Master Makarov. Zancrow felt a glimmer of hope inside of him; the master had not just let him leave. Everything was going to plan. He grinned massively in delight, his face hidden from the rest of the wizards. Master Makarov continued.
'You lied to Gray. You tried to hurt our guild, and that I cannot forgive.'
Zancrow almost sighed. This wasn't going to be easy. Obviously his apology had not completely convinced them.
'If I could remember who I really was, and how I used to be,' he said slowly, wondering where he was going with this, 'I would loathe Fairy Tail. I'd see it as a waste of space and human life. But I don't. I don't think like Grimoire Heart does anymore. I lied to one of your members because I wanted to start again, I didn't lie for any nefarious reason. I cannot remember any of you, and because of this, I have no qualms with any of your members, and I have no intention of betraying you in any way. I won't get down on my knees and beg for you to believe me – that's not my style, and you believe what you want. But if you can't trust me here, I'll find another guild. I'm not going to be part of a dark guild again, however. Maybe I should try being a goodie two-shoes and see how that works out.'
Zancrow felt satisfied with what he had announced to the gathered wizards. He had tried to sound as mature and as sensible as he could, as he knew now that his old persona was childish, egotistical, and was reluctant to accept responsibility, by all accounts. Hopefully, he had sounded suitably different enough that he might get a second chance. On tenterhooks, his back to his audience, Zancrow waited with bated breath.
Makarov mulled over what the God Slayer had proclaimed. He sounded nothing like he remembered. The Zancrow he knew would have strutted in, made a sneering comment, implying strongly that he wanted to be a part of their guild and would have spoken with all the subtleties of a chainsaw. When he didn't get his way with them, he would have simply burned the guild to the ground and left in a filthy temper. Makarov wouldn't put it past him – Purehito had raised a demon. He was still unsure… But Zancrow seemed to be telling the truth. Maybe, just maybe he deserved a second chance. Look at what happened with Gajeel. Gajeel was a core member of Fairy Tail, an honest and trustworthy member, even trusted enough to spy on Raven Tail…
'Come with me.'
Makarov turned and headed towards a door to a room that was rarely used – a perfect place for a conversation in private. Confused but intrigued, Zancrow followed, feeling a prickling sensation at the back of his neck as he imagined all of the pairs of eyes that must be watching him go, some filled with anger, some hatred, some interest, and perhaps just a few filled with pity.
'G-gramps,' Pinky stuttered, apparently appalled by the fact that his guild master would even consider trusting a known enemy. 'Do you want someone to come with you? Just in case…' He trailed off, glancing suspiciously at the Flame God Slayer.
'Erza. Mira. Perhaps you should come with us.'
Natsu looked distinctly upset and betrayed as two women – one ferocious in appearance, one sweet – approached their guild master. Zancrow knew it was the right decision though; Pinky was bound to start a fight.
The four entered the room, which was pleasantly furnished, but slightly bare. Letting the rest of them walk on, the scarlet-haired woman firmly slammed the door shut, and her eyes shot daggers at Zancrow. The only real pieces of furniture in the room were a sofa and an armchair, with a coffee table separating them. Heading for the armchair, the guild master sat himself down, the thick cushioning almost swallowing him up (had the mood been lighter, Zancrow would have chuckled under his breath), and 'Erza and Mira' (he had no idea which was which) stood either side of the sofa with crossed arms. That would be his seat then. He tried to look unperturbed as he sat lightly down, ignoring the two fearsome mages at his sides. Unsure of what was happening, and why the guild master would want to speak with him, a slightly nervous Zancrow picked at a stray thread on the sofa. Makarov leaned forwards as best as he could in the massive chair and addressed him.
'Can you remember what happened on Tenroujima?'
The God Slayer shook his head and responded with,
'No, not a thing. I have no idea what happened there, but I know that I did something to try and harm Fairy Tail. I kinda remember fighting the dragon hunter though…'
'Indeed you did. Grimoire Heart invaded our island during our S-Class Wizard exam to find the black mage Zeref.'
Zeref! He'd heard that name before! Kain… Kain showed me. The tapestry, the one on the ship. So Zeref was on the island all along. That's why we – no – Grimoire Heart showed up.
As Makarov wove him a tale of all that had occurred on the island, Zancrow listened in horror, taken aback at what he and his guild had done, and how different and dark his past was.
So we leave Zancrow now learning about what really happened on the island! Maybe he'll make up his mind about how he really feels about Grimoire Heart, Fairy Tail, and more importantly, himself! See you soon, next chapter!
