Their Master's Son

Many thanks to those who have reviewed and favorited this story despite me being such a well, terrible author at updating. After long, silent months, I am finally back! Onwards!

This chapter is dedicated to Edweis, SuperSaiyajin4Vegeta, GoddessxNyte2 and JuptileNamudori253 for your amazing reviews and continuous support. 3

DISCLAIMER: I disclaim.

By the time they were minutes into their journey, Laxus was already regretting his decision. Storm clouds gathered and dissipated in response to his erratic magic, casting ephemeral shadows over the group every now and then. A part of him wished for a disaster to befall them and put a halt to the tortuous drive – but that would only mean proceeding by foot, which would lead to another week of traveling in the godforsaken desert, and that would be an even less desirable outcome.

Natsu did not seem to be faring terribly well either, judging by his pallor and constant retching noises. It did little to alleviate his suffering, but Laxus derived some vindictive satisfaction from it. At least he wasn't suffering alone.

And then, two hours and a half later, Laxus' prayers were answered in the form of a flashing communications lacrima. There was a brief moment when Gray and Mirajane exchanged glances, before Mirajane rolled her eyes and looked out of the window loftily. Gray reached into Laxus' bag and drew it out in resignation. He pressed a palm against it, and immediately the image of a panicked Warren filled the glass orb.

"Gray! Are you with Laxus?" he gasped.

"Warren? What's the matter?" Gray asked, surprised, but the other barely listened.

"Is Laxus there? Please put him on, it's urgent!" Warren continued. Across Gray, Laxus cracked open an eyelid menacingly.

"He is not," Laxus said in warning, before firmly shutting his eyes again. Gray glanced at Mirajane helplessly, who shrugged. Upfront, Erza was casting suspicious glances at the rear-view mirror.

"Uh, he's not really – available at the moment," Gray said awkwardly. "What happened?"

"A whole bunch of wizards came attacking us!" Warren gushed. "They've wrecked our guild hall!"

There was a moment of shocked silence. "What?" Gray exclaimed. "Where's Master?"

"Master is away on a Council meeting for a week," Warren said in despair. "He's dealing with a lot of Council reports and complaints – I didn't want to bother him – "

The vehicle screeched to a violent halt. Natsu, who was slumped at the edge of his seat, was thrown forwards onto the floor. Seconds later, Erza was clambering into their carriage, a scary expression on her face.

"What was that?" she demanded. "Warren, what's going on?"

"Erza!" Warren exclaimed. He looked visibly shaken. "It's a bunch of wizards from random villages, they attacked us late at night and they wrecked the hall! We tried to fight them off but they were too strong for us, Cana managed to trap a few but the rest of them just started tearing down the place – "

"What? They are not from any guild? And they would dare attack Fairy Tail?" Erza said, incensed.

"And you guys couldn't even handle them," Laxus said bitingly from his lying position across them. He sat up slowly as the pounding of his head gradually eased into a mild throb, and his mind slowly regained its focus. Erza shot him a poisonous glare. Warren on the other hand looked instantly relieved.

"Was that Laxus' voice? Laxus is with you guys?" he said. "Laxus, you really need to come back and help us! The guys said they are coming back tonight! They've injured many of our members - we can't defend against them!"

With the return of his facilities came the return of his temper. Laxus felt his patience twang warningly. "And why can't you?" he said flatly. "How many of them are there? And how many mages do we have in our guild?"

There was a pause, then, "Around ten of them. But Laxus, they really are very skilled wizards, and if the news spreads, the other guilds will look down on us – you know how it is." Warren finished, looking rather pained. "I'm really – we're all really sorry to trouble you, but we really need your help. Please."

Erza stepped in. "It's not your fault, Warren," she said firmly, though her gaze was levelled at Laxus. "It is every guild member's responsibility to help and defend their comrades when they are in need. It'll take the rest of us a few days, but Laxus can travel via lightning; if he moves now he should be able to make it back by tonight. Don't worry."

Laxus' nostrils flared. "And who says I'm going?" he said threateningly, but Erza had already cut off the communications. Laxus felt his temper burn.

Erza was unrelenting. "You know you need to, Laxus," she said evenly. Her tone was reasonable, but to Laxus she seemed patronizing. How dare she, he thought. Who does she think she is to order me around, but he said nothing of this aloud. Gray was looking at them back-and-forth with mixed wariness and interest, while Mirajane studied her fingernails, both feet propped up against the seats. Natsu was still unconscious on the floor.

"If it were a private spat I wouldn't say anything, but they are wrecking our guild hall," Erza continued, steel in her voice. "And they've injured our members. They've insulted our pride! As a fellow member, you can not stand by and do nothing!"

Laxus glared at her. Matters of their pride? Oh, he knew that very well. Fairy Tail's position was already precarious like a brittle rock in a brewing storm; it could be easily uprooted and dispersed into the wind. If news of a rogue band of wizards wrecking and overpowering their members in their very own guild hall got out, very soon their reputation would be in tatters. And in a world where magic guilds lived off their prestige, poor repute would mean paltry income.

It didn't mean that he gave a damn.

"This, is exactly the reason why Fairy Tail is in this state," he said, barely managing to keep the snarl from his voice. "Every time something crops out, they crawl behind someone else's back and ask others to take the fire. Our guild are a weak, cowardly bunch of people, and I don't care if they will be destroyed by some rogue band of wizards on our very own turf. Ask the other guilds in Fiore - it's laughable."

He stood up, threw the door open louder than necessary and climbed out the vehicle, lightning crackling warningly around his fists. Little did he know, Ertza's temper was also past fraying point.

"Oh for goodness' sake, for once in your life, Laxus Dreyar," she began angrily, but before she could finish Laxus whirled around back to the vehicle furiously, his power simmering dangerously.

"Once in my life?" he hissed, lightning in his eyes. "You may have been here for little over a year, Erza, but I have been here all my life. Let me just say that this is not the first time, and this definitely will not be the last. If they want to call themselves a member of Fairy Tail, they should learn to fight, on their own feet."

For the first time since he'd known her, Erza looked stunned. Satisfied with that, he turned around to leave, not entirely certain where he was going, but away from them, where his roiling magic wouldn't accidentally incinerate the entire vehicle in a storm. Erza, however, wasn't done. A few steps later, she overtook him to stand in front of him again, blocking his way.

"I agree with you," she began. She looked up to meet his eyes, hers calm but fierce with determination, his a storm of anger and resentment. "Every member of Fairy Tail ought to learn to defend themselves properly, but – " she paused when Laxus rolled his eyes. "But in the meantime, we must protect each other." She finished stubbornly. "Master needs you to defend Fairy Tail in his absence, Laxus," she said. "It's something we all need to do. I would turn around and go back immediately, but we can't reach the guild in time. Only you can."

Laxus forced himself into take a deep breath through his nostrils. The calm took a few moments to settle in, and though his anger remained largely unmelted, it was slightly more mellowed, and less destructive as before.

"And what if they fail to learn again and again?" he asked, finally, barely managing to keep the acerbic tone from his voice.

This time, Erza's reply was firm and almost challenging. "Then we defend them again and again," she said. "That's what a family does."

Chapter 5

"That would be 200,000 Jewels please."

A pile of money was carelessly pushed across the counter. The lady counted the money meticulously to the last Jewel before finally looking up with a smile.

"Thank you for using our vehicle teleportation service. As soon as I press the button, the twin teleportation lacrima in their vehicle will be activated shortly. This will enable us to bring the vehicle and all those in it safely back here in Sakaar." She turned around and placed her hands on one of the magic crystals, which flared with light. "Counting down in 10, 9, 8…"

"Don't," Laxus said abruptly. The lady looked over at him in surprise. He seemed to be in a particularly dark mood. Outside, thunder boomed as heavy rain lashed against the windows.

"Start counting down from a hundred," Laxus told her. His voice was laced with irritation. "I have no intention of meeting them any sooner than I need to."

He brought up his hood and left.

The journey to the guild was simpler, though no less exertive. He tugged on a few tendrils of his magic, noting with no small amount of distaste the increased effort it was now costing him, before warping himself into lightning once more. With that he shot into the sky, the energy crackling protectively around his condensed form.

Presently he reached the outskirts, and some minutes later, the heart of Magnolia. He selected a deserted alleyway in the vicinity on random and began lancing downwards. His lightning struck the ground right at the moment both his feet touched the ground, leaving a faint scorch mark on the floor. Out of habit he scruffed out the mark on the floor with his boot before rounding the street.

Soon, he came face-to-face with the Fairy Tail's battered wooden door.

On the outside, it did not seem to have sustained heavy damage. There were ugly cracks and dents everywhere, but if one did not look closely, they slipped easily past primary inspection. Not so transparent however was the flickering sign reading 'THIEVES' hanging over the guild roof. It was also scribbled all over the windows. Reedus' Paint Magic was working hard to keep up the guild's appearances, but every now and then the mark the rogue wizards left behind continued to wink in and out of view.

Cautiously, Laxus brought up his hand to the knob and threw open the door.

Immediately he was assaulted by a volley of attacks from all directions. Glittering green fire wisped past his ear with an angry hiss, closely followed by a horde of sharp spearheads which hurled themselves at his head. He narrowly stepped past the attacks, only to duck sharply as a punching knucklehead plant reared up in his face to attack. He blocked it with his magic, pulverizing it instantly, but more kept coming. Something sharp swiped at his face, he dodged, and suddenly he found himself surrounded by a blaze of shuriken cards. Every time he striked them they rearranged themselves into a new pattern and began firing new attacks: first blinding light, then fire, then knives.

Eventually, Laxus gave up and called on the vestiges of his power. It strained him more than he cared to admit. In a split second the entire room was enveloped in a blinding flash of light; and when it winked out, all the physical weapons had been altogether incinerated. The shuriken cards struggled under the weight of the power for a moment before succumbing, drifting to the ground like fallen leaves.

Laxus whipped back his hood and glared daggers at the shocked guild members.

"Thank you very much for the welcome," he said sarcastically.

There followed a moment of disbelieving silence, before the guild members burst into conversation all at once amongst themselves.

"Laxus? thought he was in the middle of a desert!"

"Finally! He sure took his time!"

"…told you it'd be no biggie, Ethan!"

And, from the corner near the bar,

"…finally I get to drink in peace again! I haven't gotten wasted since they came…"

"…Who else wants a beer?"

Laxus felt familiar anger prickle under his skin. It was he had expected. Already the fringes of the group was dispersing back to their tables, drinks in their hands, a look of contentment on their face. Those who remained looked completely untroubled, the fervour and concentration of the short battle already forgotten now that the onus of protecting the guild was no longer on them.

He really shouldn't have bothered to come, he thought darkly.

Before he could undo his decision, however, someone came rushing up to meet him.

"Laxus! You came!"

A man with a jet black hair cropped in the shape of a upside-down pudding bowl atop his head came into view. His face vaguely resembled a certain eight-legged sea creature. Laxus frowned; the others had been speaking of him before. The bloke who wielded Telepathy magic – Warren Rocko.

"-didn't know if you could make it in time, but it's great to see you here," Warren was saying jubilantly. "With you on our side we can easily handle them together!" He took looked almost ready to seize Laxus' hand and shake it.

"Oh come now, don't speak such nonsense Warren," Wakaba said with a sideways look, smoke curling from his pipe. "That's Makarov's grandson you're talking about. He could easily handle them all on his own, isn't that right, Laxus?"

He laughed easily and gave Laxus a friendly shove. He only meant it in jest, but Laxus' already poor mood darkened even further. He opened his mouth to say something derogatory, but just then he was cut off by a new speaker.

"Of course. Since when did Mr. I'm-Greater-Than-All-Of-You ever need any help?" it sneered. "He can always handle it all on his own."

Laxus' eyes cut across to meet the newcomer. It was a man dressed from head-to-toe in a hideous black jumpsuit. Laxus had a faint recollection of him the man prancing around in the background during their brief… skirmish when Laxus had stepped into the guild hall. He didn't recall him causing any substantial damage however. Likely the man was of little import.

He lifted a sardonic eyebrow. "Have a problem?" Laxus said dangerously.

Warren cringed at his tone. He made an involuntary movement as though he were ready to throw himself in between the man-in-the-jumpsuit and Laxus, as if it could have stopped Laxus from incinerating the man right where he stood if he so wished. Laxus was certainly in the mood. But then right at that moment something else caught his attention. It was a faint scent in the air, velvety and caliginous. To Laxus it seemed familiar, yet it tasted strangely foreign when mingled with the guild hall's permanent miasma of alcohol and sweat.

The man-in-the-jumpsuit was saying something again, his tone sneering. Laxus turned around and left, barely noticing the other's red-faced sputters at being ignored, and traced the scent to the far end of the guild hall. Sitting on a bench with a few female mages clustered around him, laughing over drinks, was a face he would have never expected to see in Fairy Tail: Spectre. The thief Laxus had defeated and exposed nearly a month ago.

Laxus felt his blood boil at the sight of the two-faced thief. To think Spectre had the nerve to show his face here, on his turf, was an insult he could not overlook. He took a few steps towards their table and raised his voice slightly over the growing din.

"Who is that?" he said coldly.

A few faces swung around to look at him, before looking back to Spectre, as if trying to determine what other possible individual could he be levelling such hatred at. Slowly, the voices in the guild hall diminished into a barely perceptible murmur, before hushing altogether. Spectre took one glance at him and ducked his head immediately, unable to meet his eyes.

"It's Ethan," one of the females replied eventually. "He got into a rough spot recently, and he's looking for somewhere to stay. We're waiting for Master to return and give him the stamp."

Laxus snorted. "A rough spot?" he said snidely. "I suppose it was too much to ask for someone to have investigated his background a little more thoroughly before letting him and his 'rough spot' through our doors!" he snapped.

Now things were beginning to make sense. There was no way a bunch of rogue wizards would begin to attack Fairy Tail out of nowhere, especially given their reputation. Despite the rumours of their crumbling strength, Fairy Tail's name ought to be enough to evoke enough fear to deter most enemies, much less a motley band of mages with no established guild. Laxus remembered the flickering sign he had seen hovering over their roof which the members had tried and failed to erase. 'THIEVES'. Because they were harbouring a criminal, their guild had effectively been labelled as such. If word got out, and Laxus suspected it must already have, their reputation would be irrevocably tarnished.

A few heads ducked away, unable to meet his gaze. Ethan simply sat frozen at the table, his head bowed. Some members however, remained defiantly stubborn in their idiocy.

"Hey, don't say it like that! Ethan got into some trouble with them in the past, it's not really his fault!" the female mage sitting beside him spoke up defensively. "It's true that those people came storming our guild demanding that we hand him over. But of course we couldn't do that – he's part of our guild too!"

A glance around showed that many others shared the sentiment as well. Laxus briefly wondered if the guild members were simply overly emotional and gullible, or if there were faint effects of Mind Magic in play. He glanced down at Spectre's folded hands on the table – they were once more adorned with a selection of rings, though none of them were as powerful as the one Laxus had encountered. Spectre's magic may no longer be the strong leash which forced its victims into abeyance, but even when applied lightly Mind Magic could be highly persuasive, especially to unsuspecting minds. After all, Laxus found it hard to believe that the majority of Fairy Tail would welcome a thief into their midst and stand up for him despite barely meeting 'Ethan' for a few days.

(They had never welcomed Laxus himself unless they needed his power, and he had been here for years.)

The thought was sharp and bitter. Laxus bit it off before it could fully take form.

"Turn him out," Laxus ordered, his voice crisp and harsh. "Fairy Tail does not harbour vermin."

Instantly, the murmur of voices swelled, like frothing waves right before they crashed onto the shore. The looked at him, gobsmacked, as if they couldn't believe what they had just heard. Some were shocked, some incredulous, but the majority of them simply looked frightened.

"Bollocks Warren, why did you have to call this guy," one of them swore under his voice. "Now look at what you've done!"

Laxus didn't care. He turned on the heel of his foot to leave, his heart thudding in his chest angrily. Warren caught him first.

"Laxus, stop this, please," Warren began pleadingly. He was almost stumbling over his words in his rush. "Ethan just wants to turn over a new leaf. He's been in loads of trouble before, and he came to us asking for help when everyone else rejected him. Master always told us to give people second chances, remember? If Master were here, he would-"

"-welcome him with open arms, just like how he has welcomed a house full of useless parasites like you under his roof!" Laxus finished venomously, furious, his patience gone. "Forgive me if I do not think it's been a greatendorsement of his great judgement," he sneered.

Things took an immediate downhill from there. There was a shout, and a loud bang! as something heavy soared past his head to crash into the wall before him. Laxus barely managed to avoid the brunt of it, but one of the bigger splinters caught his shoulder and bit deep into his flesh. Fresh crimson spread across his sleeve. Behind him, someone swore in a terrified voice, "Gods Max, don't-!" but Max, presumably the perpetrator, simply brushed off the other.

"No. You are the one who should get the hell out!" he shouted at Laxus' back.

The whole guild went deathly silent. Wordlessly, Laxus ripped out the bloody splinter in his shoulder and threw it at the remains of the long bench lying on the floor, before turning around to face the other. It was a nondescript man with shoulder-length brown hair. His face was one of livid fury.

"I have had enough of you, spouting shit about what Fairy Tail should and shouldn't be," Max spat furiously. "Who do you think you are? Makarov's only grandchild who inherited his Saint-level magic, and who is going on to inherit his grandfather's guild, is that it? Is that why you strut around like you own this place and order us about?" he jeered.

"You should watch your tongue," Laxus said dangerously. Warren chanced a nervous look at Laxus, but it was like watching a runaway train; there was no stopping them now.

"Don't think I don't know what you're thinking," Max continued, his voice a snarl of fury. "Every time you step into this hall, you look at us like we're not even worth the dirt you step on. You're a power hungry monster who trains those you view promising to death, and the rest of us you would gladly throw to the curb. Your dragon-slayer apprentice? Pah! You don't even truly care about him at all!"

"You know nothing-"

"Forget it! You are nothing more than Makarov's grandson, and you never will be. I would rather see Fairy Tail destroyed, than have you as our guild Master! So stop throwing your shit around about who stays and who doesn't. If it were up to us to decide, you wouldn't be here at all!" Max shouted.

The look on Laxus' face was absolutely terrifying. In a single stride he had reached Max, and he lifted him off his feet, his hand fisted over Max's collar. A collective intake of breath was heard, at the same time Macao and a few others advanced immediately in fear for their friend's life, their hands fluttering about uselessly in futile gestures meant to make Laxus release Max.

"Stop it guys, you have to stop it, calm down - "

"Let go of him – Laxus, let g-"

Laxus ignored all of them. There was nothing anyone in the room could do to force him, and they knew it. He held Max up to his eye-level, ignoring the other's desperate thrashing in his iron grip. With a loud resounding boom, a crack of thunder lanced down through the roof and blasted a hole in the middle of the floor at his command. Someone let out a scream, and all lights in the room abruptly went out.

"This is myown power, not Makarov's," Laxus hissed. His eyes were dark and angry, bitter decade-old resentments welling up to the surface. "I trained myself for years when I was mocked for being weak to attain this power. Do not undermine me by invoking Makarov's name as an excuse."

Thunder boomed overhead in response to his roiling power, the crackling air tasting like ozone. Max was now panting for air as he thrashed furiously in Laxus' grip. Macao and three others redoubled their efforts to rescue Max from his hold, but even in his poor condition, Laxus' strength was like steel.

"As for caring? I have seen many times how it has led people astray. I do not intend to make the mistake of having such a pathetic liability. How I train Natsu, to death or not, is none of your business!" He raised Max even higher into the air, causing the other to make a terrible choking noise.

"Oh and one last thing," Laxus continued, completely oblivious to the shock and horror of the other guild members, "I admit I do see you as dirt beneath my feet. But that's only because you are."

He dropped Max to the floor unceremoniously, taking vindictive pleasure from the way the other crumpled to the ground, wheezing for air. He looked around at the rest of the guild members, who were watching him with a mixture of anger and fear. Most flinched back when they met his gaze. He smirked.

"Good luck on trying to protect your new family member," he sneered.

He turned and called upon his lightning, and in a flash, he was gone.

[3] – The Eternal Flame (2)

The night which fell over the desert was a vast, velvety blanket peppered with stars. As evening drew into a close, twilight had faded into the horizon, melting the dark orange-topped dunes so that they became part of the sky.

Far in the distance a large, bright orb rose. Cold moonlight spilt over him, unapologetically delineating his lone shadow in a stark outline against the glittering sand. He felt a flash of hatred, before it was quickly smothered by overwhelming tiredness.

"A full four hundred years, and you would still torment me so," he said with a mirthless smile.

Still, at least out here in the wilderness, it was quiet. It was perhaps the only felicitous feature of the desert. He turned his back on the moon, which seemed to mock his silhouette, and began his dogged descent down a steep slope, his jaw clenched. He tried his best to anchor onto the perfect, deathly stillness of the air, and how it calmed him – but the light seemed to cling onto his black robes, dredging up memories a few lifetimes too heavy for any mortal to bear.

A few steps later, he gave in to his initial impulse and simply ripped a hole in the fabric of space and stepped through in between the worlds. Moments later, he was standing on top of a small hillock in the middle of a village, breathing heavily in the crisp night air. A large temple loomed before him, its magnificent shadow falling protectively over the small town. It also conveniently blocked out the moon.

The village was strangely dead. Normally there would be a few giants holding up orbs of flames as they patrolled the borders. He turned around to face the unguarded temple, before abruptly noticing the floor beneath his feet. It was hard and slippery, and, he noted with a small measure of surprise, cold. His gaze travelled from the temple to the heavy-set staircase leading down from the hillock, to the quiet village, before realizing what had happened. Sun Village was completely encased in ice.

For a moment he felt a dull sense of loss. The giants, or more accurately the Nords – had been the last of their kind. They used to be the guards of the Old Palace, and at one point even the Royal Academy he had attended for a few years, but after the continuous wars with the dragons their numbers had been whittled down to a scarce few. He had, by some magical persuasion and orchestrated coincidence, arranged for them to rebuild and settle down in the village. Later on, Atlas Flame, one of Igneel's greatest allies, who was mortally wounded in battle, was allowed to take refuge in the temple while the dragon entered an eternal magical hibernation, where it continued to drift pitifully between life and death for centuries. Eventually the dragon became a mystical source of fire which the Nords took to worshipping, and its true identity was forgotten.

Now they were all gone, like the nature of everything else around him. He briefly entertained the idea of erecting new defence measures of his own, before instantly dismissing it as unnecessary. What he sought to protect held little value for the rest of the world, after all.

He walked up the large ice-covered marble steps to the temple and flung open the double-doors with a wave of hand. Opulent darkness cloaked every inch of the temple, confirming his initial thoughts. Atlas Flame had finally been completely extinguished.

He paid the thought little heed. He had had few interactions with the dragon; most of what he knew of the dragon had been in passing, mostly from Igneel. If anything, he was envious of it. Some of the ancient tribes had described dragons as cursed creatures; monsters of from hell sent to earth to be punished, because of their long mortality. It had taken a mortally wounded dragon centuries to die, after all. But him alone was condemned to suffer, to live through one lifetime and the next, the next, and the next, drifting alone on the choppy waters into nothingness.

He reached the end of the hall, stalking past the spire of Atlas' frozen flames which towered to reach the ceiling, and reached for the whitewashed wall. His hand went through it instantly. The defences he himself had constructed centuries ago reared up its head, before withdrawing when they recognized his magic signature. He dispelled the illusion easily, and a rush of night breeze rustled up to greet him.

He stepped through the wall into small plain garden at the back of the temple. There, on the cold solid ground, was a roughly hewn stone was thrust into the ground, marking the only spot where he had once lived.

In loving memory of
CAIR
HELENA &
NATSU DRAGNEEL

Rest in peace

He brought his back foot to a stop beside the other, and stared down at the graves. The memory of a screaming dark-haired boy clutching at the cold gravestones flickered at the back of his memory, whole centuries ago. Standing there, here and now, it was difficult to understand his younger self's pain. At least they had been able to move on, he thought. At least their suffering could end. How he wished he was lying there with them too, feet deep in ice and rock, his heart and mind finally, finally, quiet.

He didn't kneel before them, didn't say a word. After four hundred years, even the death anniversary of his once family seemed small and unimportant. Sometimes he even wondered why he still remembered. Over the last century his visits had dwindled considerably until he barely visited anymore. This year was just another day marking another full cycle as meaningless as the last.

For a moment he stood there on the hillock overlooking the frozen village, eyes closed, the moon from centuries ago seeming to bear down him mercilessly. Then out of the blue, a sharp ringing clangour shattered his the stillness of the night. He whirled around, his magic gathering around him angrily, ready to strike down the intruder.

"Igneel! IGNEEL! Where are you?"

His heart fell to the bottom of his stomach. He dispelled the illusion to see through the wall clearer, his eyes widening in shock.

Natsu was standing there, in the heart of Atlas Flames' temple, a look of stubborn determination on his face. The tufts of pink spiky hair on his head was unkempt as ever, the dragon-scale scarf wrapped protectively around his neck, just like the day he had left him for good with Igneel.

"Natsu! Don't be so loud, he might still be around!" a female's voice hissed sharply.

There was a snort at this. "You might as well tell him to stop breathing."

"Watch it Gray," another voice said dangerously. "If he was a wizard skilled enough to encase this entire village in ice, I would not want to cross paths with him."

"Shouldn't we be going back any minute now?" one of them said worriedly. "What if the teleportation lacrima goes off without us on the vehicle?"

Zeref only had eyes for one of them. He followed Natsu's figure alone blankly, barely daring to believe it. His foot twitched involuntarily, as if he were going to move forwards, before he flinched back violently. He turned sharply on his heel, almost slipping on ice in his haste, and drew up a protective wave of magic to fortify the illusion of the wall. There he wrapped himself tighter still in his cloak, his hands shaking. The grave before him blurred into phosphenes of colours.

The moment Natsu's first breath misted against the lacrima, his powerful joy swiftly followed by overwhelming terror, backing out and scampering away from his own creation – black magic exploding out of his body the moment he slammed the door – all of a sudden the memories came ringing back in sharp-edged clarity, like a shard of glass twisting itself in the tangled knots of his brain. He forced himself to inhale sharply through his nose. He couldn't meet Natsu now, not in this volatile state. Not until E.N.D. grew stronger, until he was finally capable of ending his life, like it should have been centuries ago.

He walked over to the edge, ready to tear a rift through space to walk through it back into the desert, when a man's chilling voice suddenly caught his attention.

"Which of you is the demon?"

The word struck him with the force of a blow. He froze completely, barely daring to breathe. He had been so distracted by seeing Natsu, he had not paid attention to any newcomers. But at the same time, there was no way anyone could know; it was impossible. It had to only be a coincidence –

"I can tell from the effects of your magic," the man's voice said warningly. "Tell me. WHO IS THE DEMON- ARGH!"

A sea of brilliant flames lit up in the corner of his vision; he whirled around and saw the entire hall was ablaze with a dragon's flames. For a wild moment he thought that Atlas Flame had awoken from his slumber, but then Natsu was standing in the centre, his narrowed eyes blazing with anger and determination.

"The only demon here is you!" Natsu shouted back.

Zeref stared at Natsu in shock. It seemed like Natsu had just arrived into this end of the century, but his power was already almost as strong as an ordinary adult mage. The figure who had cornered them in the temple was sent flying backwards by the force of the blast, where he crashed against the pillar of frozen fire which marked Atlas Flames' grave. However, the man simply bounced off the ice to land before the Natsu again, looking completely unharmed.

"Well there's only one way to find out then," the man said, before calling upon his power. "Ice Devil's Rage-!"

Between one moment and the next, Zeref ripped apart a hole in space and stepped through it, just as a violent blizzard screamed into the air and slammed into his torso. He barely managed to fumble together enough magical energy to dissipate the brunt of its force, but most of it still sent him rocketing backwards to crash painfully into the wall. Pain slammed into him, and something warm trickled down the back of his neck to seep into his robes. With a jolt he realized that he was bleeding. He had been so used to being untouchable, undefeatable, that physical pain had become a foreign sensation altogether.

"-OI! Are you alright?"

He opened an eye to see Natsu peering at him closely, spiky pink hair framing his face, eyes wide with concern. Shock and fear jolted him out of his stupor, and he reacted instinctively. A pinball of magic dove out of the air and caught Natsu neatly, sending him back to relative safety at the opposite end of the temple, away from him and his curse. At the same time, the other wizard fired another bolt of energy, and with his mind distracted on trying to withhold the black energy which was bubbling violently in his core, the next bolt of ice pierced right through his flimsy defence. He felt one of his ribs crack under the force.

"-atsu! Natsu! The vehicle is glowing! It's leaving any second!" someone was screaming.

"We can't leave him there!"

Zeref muttered a brief incantation under his breath, and the worst of the pain instantly abated. It would cost him double the damage later, but he didn't mind. If it could kill him, all the better. He forced himself to his feet, ignoring the way the world swayed in a confusion of noise and colours and magic. His vision regained its focus slowly, and he found himself staring again at the small young boy he had created, standing at the frame of the door, looking torn. In the next breath, he pivoted and fired a dark purple spell at the man who had attacked them, forcing the other's mind into sleep. The other struggled admirably under his power, but faced with a black wizard with centuries' worth of practice and repertoire, the man stood no chance. He collapsed to the floor in seconds.

He turned back to face Natsu. The world paused in that single frame; Natsu's silhouette dark against the doorframe, where his companions were standing. Still alive, still breathing under the same moon he had died under four hundred years ago.

"I won't forget you!" Natsu called out suddenly. "I will repay you someday. Thanks a lot for just now!"

Natsu's grin was bright and mischievous. He felt his breath catch in his throat.

"Train well and become a powerful mage," he said instead. His voice was silky and unconcerned, completely detached from the vortex of pain which threatened to swallow him whole. "That is how you'll repay me."

(When you finally destroy me.)

He turned into the shadows, barely able to keep his back ramrod straight as was his norm. Pain was clawing through his brain, eating at him, but he forced down an iron hold on it. Just a little while longer, until Natsu was safely out of his reach, safely out of his reach-

The curse reared up its ugly head, howling. With a last look at the now empty doorway, Zeref ripped a hole through space and stumbled through it, into the cold, empty dunes of the desert, where his curse finally screamed into the wind.

A/N: I have not managed to edit the last part of the story in my haste to upload it. Things are getting beautifully messy, and I'm quite excited for what follows. I may come back to make little changes to it if I'm unsatisfied with it. In the meantime, kindly overlook any potential mistakes – and as usual, tell me what you loved and what you didn't. Thank you! :3