Chapter Text
“Irbis!”
He perked his ears at his creator’s voice. Calling of the name – it was simple command. When Zeref was out of sight, it meant come; when in sight, usually stop. Irbis was alone, so he was supposed to come. Simple. Nothing to misunderstand here.
And yet, he didn’t obey immediately.
It was hanging so close, the sweet-smelling fruit; pear, they called similar ones in the market. So, so close. And it took him such a long time to climb all the way up here. Trees were precarious, he had learned. This one especially – tall enough for him to not be able to reach the lowest branches comfortably. He had to build a strange ramp constructed from rocks and pieces of wood in order to even touch them, and even then it took a solid few tries before he found himself on the actual tree.
It would be so annoying, having to do that all over again. And the pear was so close…
But the creator called him.
But the pear…
He dug his claws deeper into bark. Surely, nothing would happen if he went to Zeref after he got the pear, right? It’s yellow skin shone so temptingly in the sun. And really, it would have only been expected of him; his creator was the smartest, most knowledgeable person he had ever met in his (rather short) life. Surely, he was fashioned after a feline for a reason. Everyone knew cats were disobedient.
Yes. Desires and actions that contradicted Zeref’s orders were a predicted part of his nature. Thus, he could get the pear.
The branch bent under his weight as he moved towards the fruit. He slowed down. His paws no longer fit on it, and what ought to be a branch ventured precariously into the twig territory.
Just a little bit more—
And with a loud crack, he fell.
Through the branches
And leaves
Twigs-
Straight onto the ramp. And all the stones, and hard pieces of wood, and it hurthurtHURT—
He only registered his head felt strangely wet before it all faded into a blazing darkness.
~*~
He woke up in a pile of warm ash.
The world didn’t feel quite right, surrounded by fading flames. It burned on his fur and in his gut; tickled both his face and tongue, danced underneath his skin. It didn’t belong there, his dizzy mind whispered. Fire went outside. Inside was… inside. With insidey stuff.
Fire wasn’t insidey stuff.
Something deep within him, deeper than the burning, was humming. It soothed the flames and strangeness. His own heart adjusted to this rhythm; slow and steady, so much calmer than his own, frantic heartbeat of wrong-wrong-wrong. No fear. What fear? Just a mild curiosity, maybe a ting of worry. Nothing surprising.
A spark of attention. Not-wrong, annoying, a slap on a wrist, and the rhythm fell to the background.
Just him. The insides that weren’t quite burning, the ash that started to cool down. Tickling of several tiny legs. Smell of burned grass and greenery, of a human being nearby. He blinked. Opened his eyes hesitantly; the sun blinded him, so he looked down quickly. Ground was dark.
“Well,” A familiar-unfamiliar voice said. “At least I know the reset system works, I suppose.”
…a what? Who was that?
“Now, get up.” A pause. “You can get up, right? All the body functions should be working normally…”
He obeyed. Or tried to, at least; with a lot of squinting and awkward moves. It felt wrong, this body. Too short, too small, with paws too big and muscles too weak. Was it really his? It wasn’t, he was certain of that, but when he tried to remember how his body ought to be, only blankness came.
He managed to sit down. Hair fell into his eyes, but it was better than the blinding sun. He looked at the person. All black and white, towering over him like… like… like a black and white tower.
It sighed, the being. “Full physical abilities are beyond you right now, aren’t they?”
A blank stare. What was it talking about?
“Irbis?” Doubt creeped into the being’s voice, the rhythm whispered a melody of worry. “Can you answer me?”
Was it… meant for him? He heard no one else nearby. “…yes.”
The hum returned to normalcy. The being lowered itself, and while the strangely blurry vision didn’t allow him to discern many details, he quickly found himself picked up. Rough fabric rubbed against the bare skin. Fur didn’t have the same problem; why wasn’t it everywhere? He squirmed. The ground was better; the up could wait.
“Stop squi—” The being stumbled as he finally freed himself from its grip, and then, lacking the coordination to hold on, fell to the ground. “What were you even trying to achieve?”
“Scratchy.”
“Well, excuse me for not being able to afford silk.”
“Alien,” he announced and attempted to crawl away. That body was far too uncoordinated to attempt walking like that being. Four legs felt safe. Balanced. “Go away.”
The hum turned decidedly baffled.
“Irbis, stop,” The being commanded and he froze. “Come over here.”
He obeyed; no other option existed in his mind. Come meant come. It didn’t matter if he stumbled on his own tail. He only stopped when he bumped into it.
“Alright. Now stay like that.” It crouched and touched his head. The hum strengthened in answer to a call he couldn’t feel. It… mumbled. Chattered. Changed in a way it shouldn’t, couldn’t. His ears flattened, but he remained still. “…that’s strange.”
The hum twisted—and stopped. The being pulled its hand away, but the command still held. Irbis remained still. “Do you remember me?”
He shook his head.
“Anything before you woke up?”
Again, he shook his head.
And the world turned inside out. His body vanished but he did not – something held him, a thing that wasn’t hands, a thing that didn’t have hands. Before fear came, it caged him. A sturdy prison woven from ink and magic. He slipped in between the pages, into the only form available, and settled amongst the sentences.
The will touched him. And gently, but so terribly inevitably, put him to sleep.
~*~
There was nothing impressive about Fairy Tail in X776.
A few decades before, it had been one of the greatest guilds on the continent. With one of a ten wizard saints amongst its ranks, a guild master with skill and knowledge of one, and several rising stars to carry on their legacy, both mages and normal folk respected it greatly. People still spoke of the current guild master with reverence, as he too earned the name of a wizard saint.
Now, not even the fame of Makarov Dreyer could hide the fact that Fairy Tail was simply mediocre. It was in creaking doors and the ubiquitous stench of alcohol hovering in the air. It was in the breasts of a dancer with little more than underwear on herself and laughs of drunk men, in two parentless children sitting at the nearby table. And there, in the middle of it, was jester-king of the drunkards. Makarov Dreyar, a dwarf of a man sitting on a counter with crossed legs and flushed cheeks, a mug of beer in his hand.
It truly was a pathetic place, this Fairy Tail.
How low did he fall to stand in its door and not turn away with a disgusted snort? How could he even consider turning to them, like a worthless dog with no master to feed it and no skill to sustain itself?
And yet, here he was, in the exact sort of place he would have never thought worth mentioning, back in the better days. His step was as silent as always - a favor of cat-like paws he had instead of feet – but they wouldn’t have heard him either way, not in the racket they were causing. He approached the guild master with hands tucked into pockets. Wherever it was to hide his claws or express disrespect, even he didn't know.
“Good morning,” He murmured, unwittingly flattening his ears slightly. “I’m Hyōshin.”
“Oh? And what brought you here, young man?”
“I would like to join the guild.”
He expected to be questioned. Leaders of dark guilds loved showing off what little power they had; they set up rigged trials, demanded the every littlest information they could argue they needed to know, belittled novices under a pretense of demanding respect. He couldn’t stand it, so he never joined any of them. Not even when he ran out of money and jobs.
Makarov grinned.
Hyōshin stiffened, forcing his tail not to twitch. Cheerful smiles were deceptive. They hid the ugly truth under a pretense of warmth and friendliness, like sundew luring its prey with a promise of sweetness.
Were light guilds any better than the dark ones? They advertised themselves as such, but to his kind, sacred shrines offered nothing but poison. To the protectors, they were nothing but monstrous beasts to be slaughtered.
“Welcome to Fairy Tail!” Makarov exclaimed before Hyōshin decided it would be wiser to leave and jumped off in search of something behind the counter. “Where did I put it… There!” He emerged with a stamp in his hand. “Where do you want the mark?”
“Is there no test?” He asked cautiously, because surely, no business would hire someone who just walked in from the street.
“Nonsense. We take any mage who wants to join,” The guild master assured him cheerfully, just to squint at him suspiciously. “You are a mage, right?”
“…I am.”
“Then there’s no problem! So, where do you want your mark?”
Hyōshin stared at him for a long while.
Yeah. This sort of hiring strategy would explain how Fairy Tail went from war heroes to a glorified pub.
He pulled his shirt upwards. “Here will be good.” He pointed on a spot where his ribs ended, a little to the left. It would be easy to keep hidden.
The mark was a warm shade of amber. It looked strange on him, a creature with pale skin and ashen fur.