A/N: Okay, I know it doesn't make any sense, but we're just going to pretend that Zane can age like the others because I'm too lazy to work around it. So yes, he is still a robot, but he looks like a kid right now.

. . . 

Chill, icy wind rattled the branches of the leafless trees, brushing sparkling white snow to the ground around their roots. A village, small but content, was nestled securely among the trees like an egg in a nest. The inhabitants milled about its streets, carrying out their routine schedules.

Zane strolled through the village, observing the people he passed. He knew each one of them by name, he'd been around long enough. Life here was fairly simple. Any worries or complications were trivial in the grand scheme of things. It was a pleasant, peaceful life. But it wasn't quite what Zane wanted.

About a year ago, Zane had found himself lost in the wood with no memory and no family. He had stumbled upon this village, expecting to find someone who would know him, but not a single person had any clue as to where he came from. He had stayed in the town, sheltered in the hospitality of the very kind and very concerned villagers, hoping that his family would appear one day. As of yet, none had materialized, and he was beginning to lose faith that anyone ever would. But he hadn't lost all hope.

Zane was stirred from his thoughts by the laughter of children playing in the snow a short distance away as they made snowmen and snow angels. It looked entertaining. More entertaining than roaming the streets by himself. Zane decided to request their permission to participate.

He approached the other children, shoving down a slight bout of anxiety. There was nothing to be afraid of, they were nice children. He paused near them and cleared his throat. "May I join you?" he inquired.

At that moment, every one of them halted what they were doing to gaze at him. Zane was slightly perturbed by the brief moment of hesitation before one boy answered, "Uh, sure." The boy glanced around at the other children. "A few of us were just having a snowman building contest. You wanna make one?"

"I'd love to," Zane said with a smile, and the negative feelings began to dissipate. The snow crunched as he got down on his knees and began amassing mounds of snow. The others went back to their previous engagements, leaving him to construct his own snowman. Before long, he'd collected enough to pack it all together and smooth it out to form a base.

As he worked, he became so focused on the task that he forgot about the other children around him. And soon enough, he was rolling the smooth, round, topmost sphere onto the growing figure. When he stepped back, content with his work, he realized that, once more, those around him had stopped. He smiled and gestured to his completed sculpture. "Ta-da!" he said as he'd heard them say before.

"Wow!" they gasped. It was only then that Zane took notice of the considerably less impressive sculptures that they had made. Their snow wasn't nearly as smooth, and the heads were fit on so lopsidedly that they appeared as if they would fall off with just a breath of wind. A wave of embarrassment washed over him as the children 'oohed' and 'ahhed' at his perfectly smooth and symmetrical snowman. Perhaps he had overdone it and made himself stand out again. Not to mention that he had been so focused on making the perfect snowman that he had forgotten to communicate with his peers, to get to know them, and find common ground. Once again, he had alienated himself.

After they had all finished admiring his snowman, there didn't seem much point in continuing with their inferior attempts, and so the snowmen were quickly abandoned.

One girl turned to Zane and asked, "How did you learn to build a snowman like that?"

"I don't know," Zane admitted. "I do not remember learning the skills. There is a great deal about my past that I cannot remember."

He caught some of the children exchanging a look, one that he most often witnessed in adults. It was a combination of pity and discomfort. Perhaps he should not have brought up his predicament while they were trying to enjoy themselves. He endeavored to change the subject. "What shall we do now?"

"I dunno," one boy shrugged. "What do you want to do?"

Zane seriously considered this for a brief moment before a handful of snow struck the boy who had asked. The boy immediately whipped around, glaring. The assailant looked away, acting overly nonchalant.

With a good-natured smirk, the boy who'd been hit dropped down and began scooping up his own mass of snow.

"Ahh!" The snowball thrower shouted and fled, but he couldn't escape. Zane watched curiously as they chased each other around, throwing snow at each other, and within minutes, witnessed the rest of the village's children get swept up into the conflict until the street had erupted into a full-blown frosty war.

Internally, Zane was trying to convince himself that he should join. It looked like fun . . . sort of. At least, it looked like they were having fun, which was what Zane wanted, but he didn't see why attacking each other in this way was so entertaining. A few passing adults got caught in the cross-fire and shouted at the children for being so reckless.

Zane flinched when one of the icy projectiles hit him. He glanced around, but it was too chaotic to see who had hit him. It might have been completely by mistake. Zane kept telling himself that he should do something instead of simply standing there, but he just couldn't bring himself to join in. The idea of participating made him uncomfortable, but it also felt awkward to observe. So he decided it would be best to give up and leave.

He turned and walked away from the scene when he heard one adult whisper to another, "Look at Zane, at least he knows how to behave himself. Why can't they be more like him?"

Zane ducked his head and picked up the pace. No matter how hard he tried it seemed he always stood out in one way or another.

Making his way out of the village, Zane took refuge in the nearby woods. The white birch trees were leafless but weighted down with snow. They lacked the color and vivacity that most people associated with tress, and their stark wood blended in with their surroundings as they stood on the outskirts of the village, ever-present and ever-watching, hardly noticed. Zane sat down under one of the trees ignoring the snow packed among the roots. He drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs. And as he sat, he wondered: even if his family came looking for him, would they like what they found?

"Hello, Zane."

Zane's gaze shot up. He was surprised to see a shadowy figure standing at a distance in the sparse shade of the trees. Try as he might, he couldn't quite make out his features in the shadows.

"Hello. Have we met before?" he asked, uncertain. With his shoddy memory, it was possible he wouldn't recognize the man even if he could see him.

"No," the strange man responded. "But some would say I have a knack for finding young talent. But tell me, you seem troubled. Is there something wrong?"

Zane shook his head. "I appreciate your concern, but there is nothing wrong." It made him feel a little better to have someone worry about him. "Are you lost?" he wondered aloud, hoping he could be helpful in return.

"Lost? Hm. An interesting word," the man said, appearing to ponder the word. "Sometimes one has to be lost, in order to be found."

Zane considered this. Or, he tried to. But he couldn't figure out the intended meaning behind the man's words. "That does not make any sense," he finally concluded.

"Maybe one day, but not today," the man responded, still failing to say anything sensible. He looked to the village where the others could still be heard laughing as they ran in circles and threw balls of snow at one another. He turned back to Zane. "Why are you not with your friends? It sounds like you're missing out."

"They're not technically my friends." The man tilted his head, prompting an explanation. "I don't fit in with them. Everything I do is strange to them, and everything they do is strange to me. I think . . . I may be better off on my own."

"Ah," the stranger nodded thoughtfully. "I know exactly how that feels."

Zane gazed up at him with wide eyes. "You do?"

"Sadly, yes. Growing up, I was always singled out as the odd one; my brother and his friends could never understand me. I tried, of course, to get along with them, but my brother always pushed me away. I've been alone for as long as I can remember."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Briefly, Zane speculated whether he was destined to share the same fate.

"I don't think it's by chance that I came here today," the strange man continued. "You and I, we understand each other. But you should know that it doesn't have to be this way. You don't have to be alone. I have an opportunity that you may be interested in."

"What's that?" Zane asked, his curiosity peaked.

"I've been gathering a group of boys who are just like you, boys who were lost until I found them, who don't fit in. You would be able to meet with others who feel the same things you are feeling, people who understand you and who will accept you."

Zane was awestruck by the idea that there were other people like him. Could he really, finally make friends who understood him?

"This isn't just any group, though. We will be meeting regularly as I teach each of you how to fight."

"Fighting?" Zane frowned. What would he want or even need to know about fighting? The village he lived in was very peaceful, as was all of Ninjago.

The man nodded. "It's an important skill. Young boys ought to know how to defend themselves. Besides, the lessons require you to work together with others, encouraging team building. It's a great way to develop trust and friendship amongst one another."

Zane hesitated. He still wasn't so sure that violence would be the best means to make friends.

"I don't want you to be alone, Zane. I really think this would be a great opportunity for you."

It really did seem to be his only option if he didn't want to spend his days wandering the streets by himself, listening to the laughter of the other children juxtaposed with his own thoughts. Finally, he nodded. "I will accept your offer."

"Wonderful," the man said with a wide smile.

. . .

A/N: Before I end this chapter, I just want to say: Thank you for all your nice comments! You guys are so sweet, it makes me really happy to see you enjoying my story! It's also cool to see you all try to figure out what's going to happen XD