Disclaimer: I do not own 'Fairy Tail' or the backdrop this story is based off of, and neither do I own any characters that might appear in this story that wasn't created by me.

Acknowledgement: This story is based off a fanfic for 'Fairy tail' called 'That's a bit optimistic' written by 'InsertDecentNameHere', whom I would like to thank for giving me permission to write this story.

WARNING: Since this story is a separate project, spoilers to 'The Phantom' may or may not be present.

Chapter three: Forgotten melodies

[Imagine cool song]

(Nine years after the last chapter)

The city of Ostia, also known as the city time left behind, is the perfect place for history lovers to visit. The roads are old; the buildings rustic, the people still steep in traditions and culture.

The streets here are made from unevenly hand-shaped bricks; the same goes for the structures as well. Beautiful artworks such as marble sculptures stand all around the city, their once clean surfaces lined with dirt collected from the ages, despite the constant care of the town; and tall, ancient trees dart every unoccupied corner – the hall mark of an old, unchanging city.

Needless to say, the icons of such a city are its museums. There were a numbers of museums here, but the one known as 'Gilbert's museum of historical arts' is one of the biggest, if not the most renowned site in the city.

Its outer appearance, with its marble white columns and smooth brick walls, resembled the pantheon in shape. Its interior, however, was an entirely different story. With its larger size, it housed roll after roll of art exhibits. There were paintings, sculptures, pottery, huge statues, even a couple of golden sarcophagi in the building.

The museum was a place full of expensive artifacts, so it was naturally a place where people liked to visit, either those who wish to admire beautiful art, or more commonly, those who wish to put a price on the priceless. And tonight, one visitor was planning just such a visit.

…

Later that night, much later, a lone silhouette skipped silently across roof tops, unseen despite the clear dark sky painted with a sea of stars and the bright face of the silvery moon. His pace was fast enough to rival a galloping horse, his jumps as nimble as a monkey's. He made it to the museum undetected, somersaulting gracefully in midair, before landing catlike at the southern wall of the museum.

The would-be thief was dressed fully in black – black mask, black gloves, black shirt and pants, even black boots. The only things visible were the eyes, which were a dazzling gold.

The thief touched his right hand onto the solid stone wall, and a dark void started radiating outwards from his hand. Once it was big enough, the thief walked through, disappearing from sight, and entering the museum. A valley of old items encased in glass boxes surrounded the lawbreaker, any of which would have made a bagger well-off for the rest of his life.

The thief ignored all of these. The objective of this particular theft wasn't about money, but about making a statement. For this purpose, an item of great importance was the target, in this case a paper bird. It wasn't well made, the paper wasn't enchanted, and it wasn't expensive. However, it was the first known origami magic used in Earth land, and so that made it famous.

That, and the fact that is was small, made it perfect for this job.

Because of its fame, the piece was place in a magically reinforced glass case, surrounded by high grade detection spells, counter magic, and a rare willpower spell that prevented most people who came near it from even thinking about touching the artifact, let alone stealing it.

Not this thief, though. This particular person had a strong mind that was able to resist the magic, and the other spells weren't cause for worry either. All of them were effective countermeasures, but only under one condition – they only worked if someone touched the glass case around the origami piece.

A few inches from the display case, the thief stopped walking. From a concealed right pocket in his pants, he pulled out a second black marble, the first which he had used to create the first portal.

He rolled it from his right palm onto two of his fingers and pushed it into the front face of the cube glass case. A black void six inches in diameter appeared, large enough for him to put his hand through, which he did. Carefully, he plucked the delicate thing up and out of the display case,

At the same time, a guard who was patrolling the perimeters outside the museum passed by the hole in the wall the thief used to gain entry. He passed it, changed his gear to reverse, and stopped at the black circle in the wall. He tilted his head in wonder before tentatively reaching his hand inside, and when it returned unscathed, he poked his head in.

The thief at this moment in time was admiring the origami bird. It was old, with crisps and uneven folds, but its condition was expected for its age. He carefully pocketed it in a black pouch hanging on his waist and ran towards the portal.

By then, the guard had retracted his surprised plastered face and began pulling out a small red tube from his pocket. He cracked it, sending a magical messaged to every other guard of the museum. Now, what might that message be, you ask?

"Intruder alert! Intruder alert!" a voice rang out in the sound proof building, causing the thief to pick up his pace. The thief ran with all his might, but just as he reached his escape, the portal closed, the anti-traveling magic in the wall disabling the magical transportation portal.

At that precise moment, five armed guards appeared and surrounded him. The thief turned to regard the one with the golden rope around his shoulder, the obvious leader. He was a mountain of a man, wearing a dark blue uniform, complete with a cap; the same as everyone else. He had a square face, wide eyes, thick lips, a wide nose, dark tan skin, a thick black mustache, and the beginning of a goatee.

"Surrender thief," he said in a rough voice, "we have the place – and you – surrounded. There is no where left to run."

The thief's features were hidden underneath his mask, but his eyes showed that he was smiling, and he was. Quite arrogantly, in fact.

"Surrounded? By who? Bozos like you? Hah, don't make me laugh! Oops, too late. You guys couldn't catch a fly even if it was standing in the palm of your hands, let alone the great phantom!" he boosted in a merry voice.

As he finished, the head guard's face grew so red it looked like an oversized tomato in a blue suit, and smoke seemed to start coming out from atop his head. It was quite hilarious, so the phantom laughed out loud while pointing at him, saying, "You look like a mountain blowing its top when you're angry!"

A vein appeared over the men's cranium, "Get him!"

The guard to his left came forward, and the phantom kicked out with his left leg, straight at his left shinbone, striking it with enough force to break it. The guard fell backwards, covering his injured leg as the rest of his comrades, save the leader, charged the phantom.

Casually, as if he did so every day, the phantom turned his head slightly to the right, avoiding a straight punch to his face. He followed through that motion, twisting around to his left and slamming his right elbow into the guard's back, cracking the scapula – just enough to immobilize him with pain.

Not missing a beat, he hooked his right hand around the right arm of another guard's who tried and failed to land a hit. The phantom pressed his hip into the guard's side, and using his own shoulder as a pivot point, he launched the guard up and over into one of two guards who were trying to sneak up on him from behind, sending them both flying. He then rotated on his heels and landed a powerful roundhouse kick to the second guard's side, breaking some ribs and knocking him to the floor.

He turned to face the head guard just in time to duck under a side jab aimed at his head. He planted his right leg firmly in front and twisted his body, launching a devastating punch to his solar plexus. As the head guard bend down, grabbing himself in pain, the phantom skipped to a side.

"Better luck next time, suckers!" he said, saluted to the guards, and danced away towards the main door of the museum.

At the same time, he pulled a rectangular piece of hard paper out of a holder that was attached to his waist as well. A faint yellow glow erupted from it before subsiding as quickly as it came.

The head guard got up, ignoring the constant pain in his stomach. He ordered, in extremely colourful words, the others to get up on to their feet and start pursuing the phantom.

One by one, they stood up and more or less limped towards the direction the phantom had taken. They were halted, however, by the guard who's leg was broken with an upraise hand, "Sir, there is a black pouch on the floor." He said while pointing at the general direction of where the thief had stood.

There, on the ground, was a black pouch – the exact same pouch that was hung on the phantom's waist just minutes before.

The very same pouch he had used to keep the origami bird.

The head guard beamed and said to the guard who had spotted it, "You, pick that up. Everyone else, follow me to the front, now!"

With that, he raced off as fast as his legs could while carrying his enormous bulk, the others close behind. They were out of ear shout when the guard with the broken leg reached the pouch, so they couldn't hear his cry of protest for them to return.

At this point, the front entrance was already visible to the phantom, although more guards stood in his way. He simple smiled underneath his black mask and cracked his neck before running straight for the guard directly in his path. At the last moment, he dropped to the floor, rolling through the large gap between the guard's opened legs.

He got up from the roll just in time to punch a second guard in the chest, knocking the air out of his lungs. He ducked under two well aimed swings to his face by two guards standing side by side, came up behind them, and ran full speed towards the door.

He slammed into the thick, heavily decorated – not to mention enchanted – wooden double doors of the museum… and it didn't budge.

He turned around as another guard took a shot at his head (cause let's face it - that's where anyone who's untrained in the fine art of combat would aim for, when in fact a better target would be the stomach: much bigger area). He went to his knees to avoid the hit and pushed the guard away from him.

It was to no avail. As soon as he did so, a swarm of them grabbed him and pushed him to the floor, using their bodies to pin him there. They had all hear tales of the phantom, and were not taking any chances.

Just then, the head guard arrived. "Got him up!" he ordered.

The guards roughly pulled him up and held him in front of their boss. The head guard smirked and, without so much of a warning, pouched the phantom in the gut, causing him to bend over and cry out in pain. The head guard leaned closer towards the would-be thief and said, quite arrogantly, "That's for hitting me in the stomach."

He landed a second punch in the exact same place, this time with enough force to lift him off the ground. He would have hit the door if there weren't guards holding him down.

"And that's for insulting me," the head guard said. With his anger and frustration gone, he leaned back and chuckled, before saying, "So you think just because you're a thief, you can just walk in here, take us all on, and steal from one of the most secure places in all of earth land? That's quite arrogant."

He then said, quite loudly, "Well then, let us see how arrogant you are when you're not hiding behind that mask of yours!"

With that, he reached forward and pulled the mask off the phantom's head. The thief looked up, revealing a square face with wide eyes, thick lips, a wide nose, dark tan skin, a thick black mustache, and the beginning of a goatee… now why does that description sound so familiar?

"B… boss… that's yo… you are th… the phantom?" demanded one of the guards.

The head guard swallowed and managed to force out the words, "Bu… but I'm here… I… the phantom… wha… what in the name of the gods is going on here!"

This time, it was the 'phantom's' turn to grin. "Hey," he said in the head guard's voice, "why were you hitting yourself?" and with those parting words, he vanished.

For a moment, everyone was didn't say a word. That silence was broken when one of the guards said, "It… it must have been an illusion."

That brought the head guard back to reality, "Ahem, you are quite right. And anyways, so what if he got away – at least we prevented the phantom from stealing anything! We, the guards of 'Gilbert's museum of historical arts', are the first to have done so!"

"That's right, we have his pouch!" said one of the guards who was with him when they had first encountered the infamous thief.

"That's right!" said their boss, who started laughing maniacally, followed by the rest of the guards. Their little self satisfactory party was crashed when a limping guard with a black pouch bounced over, screaming, "It's empty! The pouch is empty!"

So much for that happy thought.

That silenced everyone for another moment before the head guard shouted in rage, "Open the door! Open the door!"

Everyone scrambled to the switch that opened the otherwise unmovable twin doors. Even before it was fully opened, the head guard rushed out, barking, "Scout the area! He couldn't have gone far!" before storming off to find the thief.

Everyone was so busy that no one saw a dark shadow slip out of the now opened front door, with no one to stop it as it slipped out into the night. The phantom – for of course it was the great thief – climbed up onto the roof tops and skipped into the darkness, unseen.

He was soon out of the ancient city.

…

The phantom was standing in a clearing of the forest that surrounded Ostia.

'Where is she?' he thought as he tapped his legs in inpatients.

His thoughts were interrupted by the breaking of a stick to his back. He turned around to see a woman wearing a brown jacket and blue jeans walk out of the trees. She was a member of his guild, a gatekeeper named Hilda. The guild mark – a curved dagger in the shape of an S – was clearly visibly on her neck.

The phantom nodded at her, "I see you've tied your hair up."

She smiled in return and toyed with her brown hair which was tied into a long ponytail, "You like it?"

"Err, it suits you… I guess?" he said while scratching his head.

Hilda would have smacked his head, but the sound of the patrol getting closer stopped her. Instead she asked, "Do you have it?"

The phantom showed her his prize, and her smile reached her ears, "Good, now let's go. Ready?"

When he nodded, she waved her right hand in front of her, and a hole appeared out of thin air. They both stepped through the portal, the phantom leading the way.

On the other side, they stepped into a chamber half the size of a football field. It was lit by torches placed at the top of each ten meter high pillar that supported the ceiling of the place. The floor was covered in tiled Trif wood.

One fifth of the place was used as a kitchen and bar, while the rest of it was filled with tables and chairs, all made from the same expensive wood.

And each table was filled to the brim with people.

Some were eating, most were drinking, and all were there to have a good time: sharing stories, having friendly matches, and whatever else it was that thieves do in their free time.

Or at least, that was what they were doing before Hilda and the phantom popped into their midst; cause when they did, all eyes were on them.

After a moment of silence, someone shouted, "Oi, that you, Marvin? Welcome back, boy!"

The 'phantom' took off his mask to reveal a striking face with spiky, silver white hair; golden eyes, and the guilds dagger mark on his chest. All that, and the cocky smile that seemed plastered to his face, as if signaling to all that he was the best.

No one wanted to argue that point, though, as he was the best. Everyone present had been caught at least once, and had to rely on the guild to bail them out. The only exception to that was Marvin. He has been with the guild for nine years, and in all that time, he's pulled of literally a thousand thefts, evaded thousands more law enforcers, and taken out untold mages who have tried to attack their dark guild.

Not bad for a 16 year old brat.

"You got the goods?" came the question.

In response, he held up what he had grabbed from the museum when the guards were too busy with his duplicate – a golden crown laced with diamonds, pearls, emeralds, and a myriad of other gems.

It was the crown of emperor Kral, the eleventh and last king of the ancient kingdom of Altın'para, one of the most powerful magical kingdoms in the ancient world.

In other words, it was priceless.

Upon seeing the piece, every member in the guild's tavern laughed and shouted with joy. Beer and rum covered the room in seconds. Hilda wisely chose that moment to make an exit using her magic.

The commotion died down when a multicolored parrot flew over their heads and said in a high pitched voice, "Marvin (crock), master to see you (crock), master to see you (crock)."

Marvin sigh, a rare thing, and announced, "Well, it's been nice knowing you guys," and bowed dramatically, to which everyone laughed.

He quickly took his exit and was soon ascending the stairs towards his guild master's office.

He stopped to admire the artwork on the wooden double doors before knocking twice.

"I told you a thousand times, I didn't order any lunch!" a deep voice, muffled by the door, came from the room.

"… It's me, master."

The sound of things dropping onto the floor could be heard, "Marvin? Since when did you start delivering food?"

"… You summoned me, master."

"Did I? … Oh, that's right, I did. Well, don't just stand there; open the door. Come in, come in."

Marvin sigh deeper and opened the door. He was greeted with the sight of what could only be described as a miniature library: the two story tall walls were covered in books. Even so, there were books scattered all around the floor, giving the rooms a very messy look. There was a heavy table in the middle of the fifteen by fifteen feet room, and it too had piles of books on it.

Sitting behind that table was a skinny old man with a grey goatee and moustache. Despite his age, though, Lawrence Fortune was still in peak physical condition.He was wearing his customary dark purple overcoat and hat. His golden monocle was in his pocket; instead he had his reading glasses on. His black cane, as well whole bunch of report papers rested on the table in front of him.

Once he saw Marvin he beamed with delight, "Marvin, my boy. I take it the expedition went without a hitch," as he said that, he gestured Marvin to take a seat on one of the two chairs reserved for guests.

Marvin nodded and sat down, "It went flawlessly… thought you should have known that by now."

Lawrence smiled even wider and produced the origami bird from his right drawer, the same origami that was dropped into Marvin's pouch back at the museum.

A pouch that was connected via an untraceable, one-time use only, trans-dimensional spell that connected it to the drawer of Lawrence's desk.

"That was splendidly executed, Marvin, well done. And I imagine you would wish for nothing but to get some rest now, am I right?"

"Yes," Marvin said, and Lawrence nodded, "Well than, carry on," he said before returning to his reading.

Under other circumstances, Marvin would have loved to return to his bed and sleep the day away. Unfortunately, however, it now seemed utterly impossible.

"… Master?" asked Marvin tentatively after a moment of watching his master sieve through the report papers. There was something wrong, Marvin knew; it was written all over his stepfather's face.

"Yes, Marvin?" his master asked, not looking up.

"… There's something wrong, isn't there?"

That caused Lawrence to look up.

"There was an attack on our guild members, wasn't there?" Marvin elaborated on his question.

And that caused Lawrence to take off his reading glasses.

"… Who told you? Was it Gary?" Lawrence enquired, obviously displeased. Including this recent theft, Marvin had already completed three consecutive missions. He didn't want to wear out his most prized possession.

Marvin shock his head, "Hilda did; well, she didn't tell me, per say."

Lawrence raised an eyebrow.

"She only ties her hair if she'd on an assignment, and her talents, other than her magic, are more suited to combat." Marvin explained.

Lawrence sigh, "Sometimes I wonder if your skills of perception are more of a problem then an asset."

After a while, he rubbed his forehead and said, "You're right. I didn't want to trouble you, but it seems I have no choice."

He stood up and looked Marvin in the eye, "We are under siege."

[Imagine cool song]

Well, there's a happy note. So sorry about the late release; I had the mother of all writer blocks. As always, please review!