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annequinox · 6 years ago

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Traveling With a Lonely Immortal

Part 7/? [part 6] [part 8] Pairing: Zeref and Lucy Rating: T Word count: 7,427 Status: Ongoing

Summary: When Lucy is given a chance to save her mother, she takes it, unbeknownst to her that the cost will be leaving the Heartfilia family forever. In addition to that, she has to spend the rest of her life with the most evil mage of all time and accompany him until her last breath.

The world stilled.

For the briefest of moments, time stopped. Warriors and civilians alike paused, gazing towards the oceans that had quieted, their waves reeling back as if hands had pressed them flat. The trees hushed their rustlings. The drifting winds disappearing into static. Magic withdrew like it had accidentally burned itself. Ice and water fell. Flames smothered into embers.

As one, the world fell silent at the breath blown across the horizons. At the god that glared down at the earth.

For in that fleeting second that stretched for what seemed to be an eternity, a new being walked the lands. And she had paid a terrible price to do so.

But fate would not grant her another wish.

Not this time.

起

She awoke with an urgency, jerking upright and gasping for air like a fish out of water. The blood in her veins felt cold and foreign—almost as if she had been submerged in ice for far too long—while the magic beneath her skin thrummed with newfound power. It threatened to overwhelm her, and soon enough, she found herself clutching her head as the world tilted.

A moan escaped her lips. Whatever this was, it wasn’t here for mercy. It meant to bring her down.

The doors to her room were slammed open by an invisible force, and it was followed by the pounding of footfalls and ragged breathing. She did not need to look to know who her visitors were.

“Lucy!”

“Milady!”

She smiled a little, forehead creased with pain but still managing to look overall graceful. “Ah,” she whispered, “hello.”

Zeref shuddered like he was terrified wherein fact he wasn’t. Yet he withdrew into himself as if he had been struck, refusing to believe what was laid out before him. Despite the yearning to approach her, he couldn’t. His legs refused to budge from their position and his magic was lashing in unpredictable directions inside of him. He swallowed once, twice, before he managed to steady his heartbeat.

He met Lucy’s eyes evenly.

“Leave us,” he ordered his servants. The soft tapping of shoes filled the silence as the servants left, Invel trailing behind them and shutting the doors close.

Finally, they were alone.

“Hi,” he breathed, licking his lips. “Are you…”

“I’m okay,” she reassured him, her smile widening. “Come here.”

He flinched, fists clenching. “I can’t.”

“Oh, love,” she sighed and spread her arms wide. “Of course you can.”

But she didn’t understand. He was still the cursed mage and she was still Lucy. They were not any different. He could still kill her if he dared to approach and he did not, would not, risk her health or safety ever again for his selfish wants. Even if he wanted more than anything to hold her in his arms and lay kisses on her skin. Even if he wanted to do more than that, he would not.

Something evil was building up inside of him and he gasped.

“Stay back,” he warned her, feeling the rumbling inside his veins spread. “Lucy!”

He clutched his head, groaning when wave after wave of black miasma expanded around him. The curse rattled his very bones. Something inside him died more and more with every second that passed. What he failed to notice was the stillness of the woman before him—how his magic vanished at the touch of her presence.

When he came to, he was distinctly aware of being cradled against someone’s chest.

起

It was in the wee hours of the morning when he felt it.

In the middle of fighting and planning, he was—what most would dare say—normal. Well, as normal as a cursed immortal could get. For in those bits of moments squeezed in through bloodshed and manslaughter, he was simply a man in love. He was satisfied. And dare he say—he was happy at last.

The moon, though high above the palace, was absent to the human eye and blanketed by a sea of clouds. Thus, leaving the world in total darkness, broken apart by the rare appearance of dim lacrima-powered streetlights. It kept the room dark, so he could not really see anything, but he could feel her presence beside her. Strong. Unwavering. It was the only reassurance that he needed; the only reminder that this was real.

He found that he could not return to sleep. So he shut his eyes and relished the silence. It was not a dream, he reminded himself for the hundredth time. She had been saved from the curse. After four months of the dead quiet and the void that surrounded her bedroom, of months of self-pity and blood-curdling anger, she was back. Different, maybe, but back nonetheless. With the force of a thousand suns, she felt brighter than ever.

He still didn’t have answers. Though he supposed that was what happened when he had asked none at all and she had offered nothing but reprieve for the night. Still, the questions that crowded his mind were not his top priority. He didn’t know why they needed to be asked. He was grateful enough for her return and he wasn’t foolish to ask for more.

Zeref shifted over to his side, facing what he knew was his love.

Love. What a foreign word. But he was sure it was what he felt for her. There was no other word that could explain the warmth he felt whenever she was near. For the first time in so long, he felt deserving. Of what, he didn’t know, but that was she made him feel. He realized that it was odd how not even his conquests, immortality and glory brought him to peace. Nothing had made him feel right—only this.

Only Lucy.

And amidst his musings, he felt something sputter.

Startled, he jerked upright, propping himself up with an elbow as he surveyed Lucy’s aura. He squinted his eyes. There was nothing off aside from the greater magic that lit her very core. But other than that, she was still the same. So he searched harder.

Then there it was.

A flicker so small, he would have missed it if not for its odd color and appearance. Black and white, rotating around each other. A stark contrast to Lucy’s sun-colored magic.

It was barely bigger than the nail of his pinky. And yet he knew, with certainty, what it was. Who it was. What it meant.

And so he wept.

起

“Have you ever loved, Ankhseram?”

Silence followed her inquiry. Although her tone was light, there was an underlying motive for it, evident only by the small twitch of her right ring finger. The garden was quiet. Even the usual fluttering and flapping of the butterflies had vanished. It made her antsy.

Ankhseram hovered directly in front of her and cold onyx eyes bore into her soul. “I am many things, girl, but to be human is not one of them.” His perfectly stoic face rippled with the barest hint of ire. “To love is to be weak.”

The corner of her lips lifted slightly. She could tell bitterness when she saw one. “But you have loved before, Ankhseram,” she pointed out, amused.

He ignored her, choosing to remain silent though it was painfully obvious that the old god was brooding.

She couldn’t help but smile even further. “Tell me all about her.”

His enraged eyes snapped towards Lucy. “There is no her.”

She leaned back on her palms and watched the god thoughtfully. She wondered what kind of woman had bewitched the god of life and death. She must’ve been one hell of a goddess to do such a thing, and even more incredible if she had managed to endure his presence. But judging from the way he had reacted, she knew for a fact that whatever he had in the past had not ended well.

When she blinked, she found herself back inside the temple, seated in front of the same low table that had separated them not long ago. Two steaming cups of tea were placed on top along with the usual plate of dango. Across her, Ankhseram looked annoyed. He sat in the way he always did on her visits: one knee propped up and the other slightly bent on the floor. This time, the smile on her face was of genuine understanding.

She took one of the cups in both of her hands and it warmed the chill she hadn’t known she was feeling. She sipped gently.

The moment the cup touched the table once more, Ankhseram sighed. He looked even more irritated than before. Except now, she could see a hint of nostalgia and wistfulness in his normally blank gaze.

“Her name was Izanami,” he began, making a vague gesture with his hand to seemingly relay his story. “She is the goddess of creation and death, like I am, for we were meant to rule the heavens together.” His brow furrowed. She pretended not to notice his use of past tense. “I do not know if what we had was love. Like I said earlier, gods are many things, but to be human is not one of them. Although we knew what love was—we watched humans every day and saw what it was and how it affected their lives—the feeling was simply foreign to us.

“If Otohime and Inari were the prime examples of perfect goddesses, Izanami was their exact opposite. She was a handful, her reputation reaching even the lowest gods and goddesses, how she had slipped a sleeping spell in Myōken’s meal and drew on his face afterwards.” His voice was light, and she imagined him laughing when he had heard of the incident. “Otohime and Inari were ruthless in their rule over their sovereign, and would usually team up to catch Izanami in her acts of mischief.”

Ankhseram paused to swallow, and he looked completely lost in a sea of memories, a thin film over his inky irises. He continued, “When Myōken arranged for us to rule over Earthland together, I was enraged. I was fine with anyone as long as it was not her. To make matters worse, this infamous goddess, whose tales had reached even the lowest depths of the oceans, had not heard even a single breath of me—not even my name. I wanted to change her, to show her who owned her and to teach her how to rule.

“And, as if our Creator had spited me, I had become entranced. No—bewitched is a more fitting term. We became partners in the name of trouble. Where she created havoc, I followed. I do not know. Something felt strange inside me whenever we mocked those above us, and beyond whatever mayhem we caused, I had grown to be fond of her.”

Ankhseram’s eyes cleared and they met Lucy’s evenly, a deep, forgotten sadness found within them. “You have to understand that I still do not know whether that was love. For one thing, we had never been intimate. She had only hugged me on rare occasions, and I had only been able to kiss her on the back of her hand—that was as far as she knew. Sometimes, when she was sleeping to cure her boredom, I would kiss her on the brow and it was all I could ever do.”

She cleared her throat, apologizing quietly for interrupting and then asked, “Were gods not… I don’t know.” She felt as uncomfortable as he looked. “Did you not get intimate with others?”

He chuckled. “Oh, we did. In fact, Okuninushi was well known for his carnal desires. He bedded a different woman every night and they were all mortals. Only once did he bed a goddess, a newborn deity named Akai, and she had burned all of his clothes off in resentment once she had heard of his reputation. After that, he stuck to the mortals.” He cupped his chin thoughtfully. “Last I heard though, he was courting Suseri and was facing the wrath of her father.”

Lucy laughed lightly. “I don’t know about you, but gods and goddesses seem human to me.”

Ankhseram curled his lip at her. “Do not even compare us to your ilk, girl,” he threatened, narrowing his eyes at her. When he saw that she was unaffected, he sighed, waving away his ire. “Returning to the main point of this tale of mine—I had finally accepted Izanami as my equal. She balanced me out, and I was ready for the ceremony. Only I… I had not known that she was feeling differently.”

“Oh no,” she breathed, and he smirked.

“Oh no indeed,” he echoed, chuckling forlornly. “However, first you must understand the rules of our world. Though I am the god of life and death, I am not the only god. When the position is of high power, it is usually the strongest god who gets it. Some are lucky, like Otohime. She had no competition when the position opened up and so it was given to her.

“Unfortunately for others, they have plenty of rivals, and once they have lost, they will be given the choice to become either a minor god or to turn into familiars.”

Lucy frowned. “That’s a little sad… don’t they get another chance?”

Ankhseram shook his head and swiped a dango off the stick with his teeth, chewing soundly. “If they are lucky, they can rule other territories. Edolas is one of them.”

“They are truly a different world, huh. I’ve heard about it from Zeref only once.”

“It is quite dull compared to yours. They have no magic, but the world itself is much more beautiful.” He licked the syrup off his fingers. The action was so silly that for a moment, she thought of the life growing inside her womb, to which he noticed and promptly stopped his childish actions.

Leaning back on his palms, he continued, “Izanagi was one of the many rivals I had, but he was fresh from the Creator—quite popular with the goddesses, that one—and had not much experience on how to rule. So he was not high among the list compared to, let us say, this guy named Ryuuji. That one was tough.

“Anyway, he was not that special. But he had the potential that many of the other gods did not have, so I was wary of him,” Ankhseram paused and drew in a slow steadying breath. She wanted to reach across the table and squeeze his knee for comfort but—knowing the god—he would only get mad at her for doing so. She kept her hands pressed against her thighs.

“On the day of the marriage ceremony, Izanagi came to sit on the front seats. And he had not really done anything. No, he was there to attend. But when it was Izanami’s turn to deliver her rites, she had gone quiet.” His voice dropped to a mere whisper, his face haunted. “There was this sinking feeling in my chest when she held my hands, kissed my cheeks, and murmured an apology in my ear. On that same day, on the very altar where we were meant to be united, she announced that she was carrying the child of Izanagi.”

Lucy’s breath caught in her throat and she froze, staring wide-eyed at the terrifyingly lonely god of life and death, her heart heavy.

“So you see, spirit mage, I am unaware if I have ever loved,” he concluded, leaning his cheek against the palm of his hand. “But anger is the emotion I am most acquainted with, followed closely by pain and lastly—by betrayal.”

起

The battlefield was gruesome like the taste of his magic on her tongue.

It was unfamiliar. Brighter. Hotter. Yet it made itself at home inside her very bloodstream, tingling with the aftermath of a burn. It was odd, she realized, how easy it was to manipulate the foreign magic inside of her as if she had always been born with it. Even odder how it did not really fall far from her original magic. But despite the resemblance, it felt wrong. Alien. Somewhat violating. She wondered if this was what Zeref felt like for four hundred years—if this was the consequence he paid for trying to revive his beloved brother.

A blast of wind met her wall of white magic, the force of the clash whipping her golden hair back and away from her face. It made her grit her teeth. She clenched her fists and swiped an open palm to the right, delivering a soul-crushing blow to the center of the mass.

Shouts and screams filled her ears. She felt genuinely sorry for them. Though even if she wished she could be at the other side of the war, she would remain at this side for eternity. There were things she had come to understand at some point in her state of sleep that gave birth to whoever she was now. And some of those things weren’t entirely morally acceptable. Some could be. Some were. Nevertheless, she was reborn, if she had to put a name to it.

This time, she was truly just Lucy. The lover of the strongest mage of all time. Soon-to-be mother of who could possibly become even stronger than his or her father.

She was not afraid of the unforeseeable future.

But she was afraid. Of who she had become. Of the unknown price she had to pay to arrive at this point. She hoped it would not be too great. But she knew that to hope so was futile.

Her attack was retaliated by a barrage of earth magic, slab after slab of hardened soil erupting in a crescendo toward her, surrounding her from all angles and casting a long shadow over her still form. She breathed an apology for what seemed to be the hundredth time.

The supposed cage shattered with a blast of magic, radiating from her body like rays of light, piercing through the soil without hindrance as if it was nothing but a flimsy piece of paper. When the unearthed ground came crashing down, so did bodies. Many, many bodies. Buried alive beneath the soil. Separating the mages as they scrambled away from the chaos.

When the rumbling stopped and the field was quiet, she sent her magic into the ground from her feet. Hundreds of flowers and leaves and trees sprouted from where the bodies had died, vines crawling over the ground and up tree trunks, petals stretching towards the sky.

The aftermath of her magic tasted like burnt toast on her tongue. One that she could never wash away, no matter how much juice she tried to drink.

She stepped away from the battlefield and found herself back at the palace, surrounded by the darkness of the halls and the quiet of the walls. She sighed and laid a hand on her stomach. Felt the life growing inside of her.

She smiled warmly when another hand covered hers, and she did not need to look to find out who it was.

As one, their magic erupted like oblivion. And at once, it vanished like a snuffed out flame.

火

“Zeref!” Natsu yelled in fury, eyes filled with rage, staring at his brother that stood in front of Lucy. “Why are you doing this?!”

Lucy glanced at her lover and saw him smile sadly. “My soldiers wish for glory.”

“That’s stupid!” The ice mage barked back. He stood behind Natsu with a woman, one who was water itself. Lucy noticed the intimacy by the distance of their bodies.

“You aren’t completely wrong,” she said at last. She felt the attention of more than a dozen mages snap towards her and she resisted the urge to hide—she was no longer that girl. “But understand this: our family is like yours. We have our own stories to tell, people to protect, and we will stop at nothing to do that. What makes us different from each other is that we do not belong here. We were born with the fate to be shunned, to be feared, to be given the power that could rival the gods and be cursed for it.”

She felt Zeref reach for her hand and squeeze gently. She squeezed back. “They want a place in this world. They want more land for their families, to control the very people who had cursed them for being so different in the first place.”

“Why this way?” the redhead asked quietly like she understood where they were coming from. “Can it not be done peacefully?”

Zeref frowned. “You are naïve. The world isn’t as bright as you think it to be.”

“But it is!” Natsu growled, taking a step forward. So did Zeref. “You can just try to be nice! To atone! I don’t know… Just not this!”

The older brother chuckled. “You speak as if you know exactly who you are and what life entails, Natsu.”

“That’s because I do!”

“No, you don’t.” Zeref’s eyes turned cold, his smile disappearing behind the mask of a cold emperor.

Lucy felt a chill walk down her spine.

“Do you even know who you are, Natsu?” he began slowly, like a predator aiming for the kill, stalking its prey that remained oblivious to its threat.

Natsu scoffed. “What kind of question is that? Of course I do!”

“Really?” Zeref drawled, brow arching. “You know where you came from?”

Lucy saw the confidence in Natsu’s eyes waver ever so slightly, beginning to unravel at the seams.

“Who your parents were?”

Zeref took one step forward. Natsu stepped back.

“Where you were born?”

One step forward. Another step back.

“If you had any siblings? A sister, maybe?” His voice was cruel. “A brother?”

Natsu fought back even though he was inching further away from Zeref. “What does that have to do with anything?” He argued, teeth baring with the intention of biting back. “Even if I knew, it wouldn’t change anything!”

Lucy felt pity for him then. Pity for how much he did not know. For the lie he had been forced to live all his life.

Zeref was not so merciful. “Oh, it changes things, Natsu,” he told him, smiling coldly. “It changes everything.”

And it would.

“Because, Natsu…” he trailed off, and in an instant he was upon his brother, eyes boring into him.

“I am your brother.”

火

First, there was disbelief.

The silence that washed over the crowd of both enemies and allies alike was deafening. Almost as if a fire had been doused by water and there was only steam and smoke, suffocating and hazy. Lucy wondered who would re-ignite the extinguished flame.

“Y-You must be joking.” It was the ice mage that spoke, for Natsu was frozen in place, held captive by the chilling stare of the strongest mage in all of Earthland. “H-He can’t possibly be…”

Zeref cocked his head to the side. “Ever wondered why you couldn’t ever cross some runes?” he questioned, his tone light and innocent though he was far from it. “Why your memories first start in front of a dragon, and not at home?”

“He was too young!” another mage shouted. “Of course he wouldn’t remember.”

He ignored them. “Where did the dragons go, Natsu?” He smiled listlessly. “Did they truly vanish?”

The ground cracked with the force of his magic. “Or perhaps… did you?”

Natsu finally snapped out of it, whirling around to look at Zeref; to see the truth for himself. “Cut the crap!”

“In reality, Natsu, it was not the dragons that vanished on the seventh of July.” The anticipation could be felt through the air.

“It was you.” Zeref felt Lucy reach for him through their link. He ignored her. “You and the other dragon slayers. I, along with the help of another mage, had you and the rest of the slayers teleported four hundred years into the future, on the seventh of July, year X777.”

Somewhere in the crowd, there were gasps and shouts of protest. Someone was crying. People were shocked to the core and certain lives were changed forever.

Lucy vanished and reappeared beside her lover, laying a gentle hand on Natsu’s shoulder. She whispered low enough for only him and the other dragon slayers to hear, “I’m sorry.” She pressed her lips into a tight line. “When you were young, you died along with your parents because of a dragon that attacked your town. Because of grief, Zeref…” she paused, swallowing once, “your brother studied the dark arts so he could—so that he could revive you.”

“But you weren’t really revived, no,” Zeref cut in with a tired tone. “You were reborn into something purely of my creation.”

Lucy allowed him this chance to speak the tale, settling for squeezing her lover’s shoulder.

“You are the strongest demon I had ever created,” Zeref said without hesitation. He sounded bitter. “You are E.N.D., Etherious Natsu Dragneel, whose sole purpose in life is to kill me, your creator.”

The quiet was so loud that Lucy felt the need to cover her ears.

“Well, Natsu?” Zeref taunted, tilting his head back. “Does it still not change anything?”

Natsu stumbled away from them and screamed.

火

Then there was denial.

Lucy willed down the urge to step in front of her lover. Natsu breathed heavily, wide eyes cast on the ground as if he was attempting to be swallowed whole. She could almost hear his heartbeat.

“No,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “No, no, no, no, no!”

Zeref asked quietly, “Do you hate the idea?”

“Bullshit!” Natsu cried, falling to his knees. “I’m—I’m Natsu Dragneel, and my only father is Igneel.”

Lucy stiffened. “Natsu—”

“I don’t—I have no other family but Fairy Tail!”

She felt her lover’s magic tremble and she acted without thinking—in moments, before the first tendrils of ink left the veins of her beloved, when the ground began to shake, she turned to face Zeref’s brother. An apology struggled to rein free at the back of her throat. Heat crept down the length of her spine.

With a breath, she burned like the sun and their enemies fled from her rays.

火

When Natsu came to, he was cradled against the chest of someone warm and unfamiliar. He opened his eyes to the sight of glowing skin, framed by the darkness of the evening sky that was blanketed by a sea of clouds. Strands of gold blew gently with the wind.

“Don’t worry,” she assured him, a ghost of a smile on her lips. “You’re dreaming.”

“Who are you?”

She allowed him to sit up before she spoke again, eyeing him calculatingly. “You don’t remember?” she said, bemused. “Well, it was seven years ago. I don’t blame you.”

It was impossible, he thought to himself, for him to forget someone he had met before. He remembered every person’s smell. However, nothing in this world—or dream—smelled of anything. He narrowed his onyx eyes, squinting to see her better but everything was hazy, like something was covering his vision.

“Luigi?”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “Close enough.” The mist in his eyes cleared up. “It’s Lucy.”

Suddenly, he was back in Tenrou Island, seven years into the past and they were both standing on the exact same place where the brothers first met after four hundred years. He was sent spiraling down into a pit of forgotten memories. Of the house. Of his parents. Of his supposed brother taking care of him under the heat of the afternoon.

Then there was the aftermath. He was no longer human. The world was no longer black and white but many shades of gray. He saw Igneel and another woman—who looked exactly like Lucy but not quite— talking to him and handing him a scarf. A blink later and they were no longer anywhere to be found.

He looked up and found himself back in the forest where he woke up to find Igneel gone.

“Why are you with him?” was the first thing he asked. He didn’t know why. There were other more pressing matters to ask this woman about, but he had to know. Zeref was—his brother was…

“Your brother is not as bad as you think he is, Natsu.”

He went deathly still. “How so?”

And so she told him the story of how a brave girl, whose sole purpose was to find a way to make her mother live, was saved by a lonely boy that was lost in the sea of time.

神

“What happened to them?” Lucy quietly asked, for once wary of the brooding god before her. She hoped she was playing her cards right. “If you’re our god of life and death… what about Izanagi and Izanami? And who’s—who ended up being your partner?”

Ankhseram craned his neck sideways and there was a loud pop. “Izanagi and Izanami ended up ruling some mortal realm after its previous god of creation was banished for committing a grave crime,” he explained, shrugging and pretending to act nonchalant. “As for me, I do not need anyone to rule with. I can do well on my own.”

Lucy couldn’t help but lift a brow. “And that is evident by…?”

“Are you not thriving?” the god argued, glaring at her. “All was well until that brat appeared.” He sniffed. “He is the only mistake in this world.”

She bristled. “Don’t say that.”

“It is the truth.”

“Well, maybe if you had a goddess to help govern over your land, your people would have understood the concept of life and death better,” Lucy snapped, close to hissing.

Ankhseram’s nose wrinkled with ire and he narrowed his eyes at her. “Watch your words, human. You are still in my home. I can do whatever I please with you and no one will ever know.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared even harder, all feelings of sympathy and understanding seared to ashes, leaving behind only determination. “I pity you, Ankhseram,” she told him, “you have loved and was left at the altar, in exchange for what? A world to rule, sure, but in the end, it’s Izanagi that has a goddess to depend on and to be depended on. And you?”

The words burned in her throat but she didn’t stop even for a second.

“You are the remains of a love that never was.”

神

It was anger that he felt the most. Anger for the family he had lost because of a past he could not escape. Anger for being fed a lie his whole life. Anger at the world for being what it was—for giving his brother eternal misery when all he ever wanted was to have his family back.

Fire clashed against ebony wisps. Natsu struggled under the weight of Zeref’s magic. If his sole purpose in life was to kill his creator, then why was he so weak? Why was Zeref pushing him back, and why were his friends falling to the ground at Lucy’s feet? He wanted to know what the world wanted. Were they merely playthings for the gods to alleviate their boredom? Was he meant to suffer for the crime his brother committed?

He wanted to know.

“I’m sorry, Natsu,” Zeref said quietly, his eyes sad. “I wasn’t able to protect you.”

Red and orange flames licked along Natsu’s fingertips, fist connecting to his brother’s jaw. The force made his arm tingle, all the way to his shoulder and up to his very soul. He swallowed hard. “You killed Gray’s teacher.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You killed so many people.” Natsu struggled to breathe. “Because of you, Erza and Jellal were enslaved by your worshippers. Children died because of you!”

Zeref kept dodging though he wanted nothing more than to be hit. Unfortunately, years of fighting left him on autopilot, and his body involuntarily avoided all of his brother’s attacks. He hated it. “I didn’t mean for all of that to happen, Natsu,” he tried to explain. He wanted to be understood. “I’m sorry.”

But Natsu was having none of it. “You turned me into a demon!” he shrieked, and he hadn’t realized how much it hurt to finally say it out loud. To accept who he truly was. “You deserve nothing! Not your worshipers. Not your soldiers.” He pointed to the golden-haired maiden that made flowers bloom from death. “Not even her!”

It was Lucy that caught his second punch. “Natsu!” she reprimanded, eyes ablaze with fury. “He did not want to be glorified.”

“And I did not want this!” Wide chocolate eyes met the gaze of someone who was becoming lost. “I did not—I… I just want to be me.”

And Lucy did not know what to tell him then. She pursed her lips and turned to her lover.

Zeref’s lip was bleeding. He had never looked so torn before, not even when they first met at Lucia. And it saddened her how human he looked. How young. Gone was the four-hundred year old mage that was feared by the world. What could only be found was a lonely boy in the middle of a war he had started in pursuit of happiness, to fulfill the wishes of the people who accepted him, and to live a life that would be bare of pain. Caught in the mess he had created a long, long time ago.

Lucy understood it all the moment she had woken up from her slumber. It was not easy to be Zeref. He had loved his brother dearly. Hence why he had attempted to bring him back from the dead no matter the cost, not knowing that it would be this—to face his brother after centuries and to be denied happiness from the one person that had been the reason for it all.

The gods were cruel. She hated that the heavens could look down upon them all and judge them when they were simply born to survive. Lucy wanted to rest from all the fighting. She wanted her beloved to finally laugh without worrying about tomorrow. She wanted time to reset, and that was why she understood him. She could read his mind. His thoughts circulated around the ‘what ifs’. The probability of joy if he had done things differently. If he had dragged his family out of the town before the dragon attacked. If he had insisted on living a life without his brother.

But she also knew that if he had done so, they would have never met, and she would have never saved her mother. She would be all alone with a cold father and a big house, left to wander the world with other mages in hopes of forgetting the pain.

Lucy smiled at Zeref sadly. “You are still you, Natsu,” she said without looking at the dragon slayer. She held her lover’s gaze evenly. “And your brother is still the strongest mage of all time.” She reached for his hand and squeezed it tightly. “Whoever we are—it won’t change. Even after all that’s happened. Even when you’re not really who you thought you were—it doesn’t change who you are.”

“Lucy?” Zeref murmured, confused and at the same time proud. Her eyes twinkled with delight.

“So fight for your family,” she continued on, turning to face Natsu at last, “and we will fight for ours.”

The silence that followed after was interrupted swiftly by the rush of their magic, both dark and light alike, as it swallowed the crowd in a dreamless sleep.

神

A month and a half later, they were finally getting sick of it all.

“The west’s all clear,” Lucy said by way of greeting, shutting the door behind her and shrugging off her cloak. She hung it on the rack before she headed to the closet for a change of clothes.

The war was longer than they had originally planned. And Lucy kept telling him this, how it wouldn’t be wise to keep the countries fighting when they no longer needed to continue with this charade. Not only were they wasting their manpower, they were also running out of land. All of it was being replaced by the plants that bloomed out of Lucy’s magic, and soon enough, they would need to work on rebuilding the majority of Ishgar.

Though Fairy Tail had not shown themselves since the incident, their soldiers were anxious. She could not really blame them. Even she was wary of Ishgar mages, and they especially had to look out for one called Natsu Dragneel.

Lucy seated herself at the edge of their bed, taking off her shoes and massaging the soles of her feet. She groaned at the relief.

“We’ve been debating about it for a few days now,” Zeref spoke up from his spot, propped up against the headrest. An open book laid on his lap. “The vote to stop the war ended with seven to five in favor of achieving victory.”

She sighed and felt the need to rub her temples. “Let me guess, Irene led the campaign?”

“Not really a campaign but…” there was a hint of laughter in his voice, “yes, she did.”

“I don’t think winning the war will matter at this point though.”

He fell silent.

“I mean no offense.”

“No, you’re right,” Zeref assured, shaking his head to dismiss her incoming apology. She pouted slightly. He chuckled. “It’s one of the points I raised earlier. Many of the countries in Ishgar are already willing to surrender and to be under our rule. The only problem is that most of these countries are mage-less. The Spriggan 12 want Fiore and Pergrande.”

Lucy’s eyes widened in surprise. “Pergrande hasn’t surrendered yet?”

“More like, we haven’t paid them a visit yet,” Zeref replied. “I haven’t had the time to and I won’t allow you to go alone.”

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “I’m not going to pop any time soon, love.”

“You’re seven months along.”

“And he’s not growing until I allow it. I’m keeping him in there unless I say so otherwise.”

He looked amused. “You’re like Irene.”

“Bran said that too.” She crawled over to snuggle against Zeref, smiling contentedly. “So it’s true then? She has a child?”

He nodded absentmindedly, turning half of his attention back to his book. “Yes. Although, I’m not sure if she knows where she is.”

“Erza Scarlet has a striking resemblance to Irene,” Lucy told him excitedly. “You think…?”

Zeref glanced at her sideways and smiled. “She is, but I don’t think Irene knows it yet. Or she could be refusing to face her past. Technically, Scarlet is four centuries old. Irene defied time itself just by having her in her womb.”

“Sounds complicated.”

“Nothing in the Spriggan 12 isn’t.”

Lucy laughed in agreement and sighed contentedly. Placing a soft kiss on the crown of her head, Zeref wrapped an arm around her shoulders and asked, “How about we pay a visit to our favorite rulers?”

神

Ankhseram’s eyes alone could bring her to death’s door.

Lucy swallowed thickly, sweat sliding down the side of her face though the inside of the temple was bitingly cold. She did her best not to look away.

He regarded her coldly. “You want to live alongside the brat,” he stated, and she did not question how he knew. She already knew how. “The price is not small, spirit-mage.”

If this was his way of scaring her—and simultaneously avoiding the topic of his old love—it did not work. Or perhaps it did, if her twitching fingers wanted to protest. But it wasn’t as horrible as she had expected it to be. If anything, this was almost pleasant. It meant he was willing to lay out the terms.

So Lucy lifted her chin. “Give me your worst.”

His stoic face twitched for the briefest of seconds, and she felt victorious, knowing that she had irritated the god to give her what she wanted.

神

“Ah, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Lucy beamed instantly. She felt better seeing the two rulers in front of her. It gave her comfort knowing that there were still people above her, and the idea that she was at the top—that she was to rule alongside Zeref… it was enough to send her stomach churning. She wasn’t used to all of this.

Not long ago, she had merely been a daughter. Then a girl. A simple woman that had wished for a simple life.

Life, it seemed, had different plans for her.

Zeref’s smooth diplomatic voice interrupted her train of thought. “We are here to make an offer,” he began, and simultaneously, the two rulers’ eyes lit up with interest. “Well,” he paused, chuckling, “more of a negotiation really. A compromise?”

Lucy pursed her lips. “Zeref…”

Laughter graced his voice. “Most of the countries have surrendered and agreed to remain under our rule,” he explained, unwavering and rightfully fearless. She wanted to roll her eyes. “However, Lucy and I decided to give you more benefits than the rest—that is, if you agree.”

The king leaned his chin against his knuckles, stern eyes regarding the two mages pensively. “And what makes you think we will?”

The swish-hiss of the queen’s gown filled the momentary silence before Lucy answered, “That’s because Pergrande will remain its own country. You two will still be its acting rulers in return, while we will be Earthland’s Emperor and Empress.” Ah, it still felt wrong to say that. “There will be an influx in produce. More trade routes will open and it will remain the trading capital of Ishgar.”

“Furthermore,” Zeref added, “you will receive a higher percentage than the rest of the countries and we will provide aid and protection around the clock. Meaning, I will send over a third of my soldiers to add to your Royal Guard. Taxes will remain the same, but it does not necessarily mean a bad thing. The trade between countries should give more than enough for the people, and they are given free pass to enter and leave the other countries if they wish so.”

Isabel clasped her hands together on her lap. “Even Alakitasia?”

“Especially Alakitasia.”

The king hummed and rubbed his chin. “What is the condition?”

Zeref threw a glance at his lover and she nodded, taking the wheel. “In return, your mages are to be at our disposal. All the guilds will answer to us. They will come to the front lines once we have need for them and aid in other external affairs—when necessary. However, we will not pay them any more than what you are paying them. The most we can give is to offer residence in Vistarion and a position at the Imperial Guard.”

Her lover folded his arms across his chest with a lift of his brow. “I believe that is more than enough? Pergrande will be prosperous, and your mages will not have to worry much about Alvarez not paying them more than usual.”

“It is a good offer indeed,” Isabel commented softly. “But I would like to know—why?”

Lucy and Zeref looked at each other, and they both smiled. She turned to face the queen who had once helped a lost girl, and the gentle sighing of Isabel’s skirts brought back memories from the very first day. She remembered the ache in her chest; the helplessness. Everything unpleasant but—

“This had been our home.”

—there was nothing to regret.

神

She was in tremendous pain.

It felt as if her insides were being picked apart; bones shattering and re-forming into something that was not her. But no sound would leave her throat, and her mouth remained open in a silent scream.

“I will grant you your wish under two conditions,” Ankhseram drawled, his voice echoing all around her. “First, you are to void your contracts with all of your spirits.”

She could not see him.

“You will never wield another key for eternity and the heavens shall shun you for it.”

A gasp left her lips at the scorching heat that traced the pathways of her blood.

“As for the second condition…”

His fingers found her chin, lifting it ever so slightly so she could drown in the endless swirling black of his eyes.

He smiled coldly. “You will see for yourself…”

It was the last thing she heard before the flames devoured her.

There are three kanjis in this part.

昇 - rise 火 - light 神 - god

a/n: I promised myself I'd update with 10k words but the things that needed to happen were already okay so... anyway, I've been having trouble lately deciding how long this story would be. I already said this was the second to the last, but there are supposedly TWO MORE. So, it should end with chapter 9, if I'm not mistaken. I wanted to end the war in this chapter but... it didn't seem right, hence why I decided to add another chapter. Who knows, I might just make it until Chapter 10, but I was deciding for the tenth chapter to be a special where I tell the tale of Ankhseram. I love him, tbh.

I didn't write the Spriggan 12 because they were always out on the field for Lucy to talk with, but they will appear in the next chapter, especially Brandish and Irene. What Lucy has is supposed to be a curse as well, so it will be revealed in the last (or maybe the next chapter) why. I hope this was satisfactory enough. I really worried over the details in this one. You can tell which parts had me the most excited to write about and which ones bore me, but that's for you to find out at least.

#traveling with a lonely immortal #fairy tail #zeref x lucy #fanfiction #lucy heartfilia #zeref dragneel #annequinox #part 7

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ariestarfairy · 6 years ago

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who did it better

It’s the age-old debate, granted I’m a little bit late to the party but my thoughts are not. It’s the Who Did It Better? Sailor Moon Edition! The epic battle of moon versus moon! Now keep in mind no matter what I say it is just an opinion, I don’t expect everyone to agree with it, this is Sailor Moon after all, not science. Disagree but be civil alright? Before I start this I was watching Sailor Moon Classic and reading the Sailor Moon manga roughly side by side. When I say I was reading the manga I mean not the manga that you know as manga but little comic book versions that were done chapter by chapter. I want you to also know that I was watching the Classic dubbed version and the errors in the dubbed version translated to the comics as well so at least it was consistent. When I watched the Classic subtitled version I was also reading a better and truer version of the manga (and it was actually a manga) alongside it. So why bother telling you this? I want you to know that my assessment of Sailor Moon Classic and Sailor Moon Crystal are not coming from a place of 90s nostalgia. That’s what a lot of people tend to argue in these debates, and because Crystal follows the manga for what it’s worth I can’t be accused of having that 90s nostalgia for Classic. So let’s break down the categories. Story Art Music Mythos Character likability Character development Ability/Power Growth Pacing I think I have hit most of the categories that tend to come up in a lot of these debates so let's go through them one by one. In terms of story, Sailor Moon Classic takes this category. The reason why Classic takes it over Crystal has everything to do with the fact that Crystal’s story is little more than a regurgitation of the manga and not a very good one. I’d almost rather read the manga for the extra bits that Crystal leaves out, it might not seem important but those little bits add up when telling the story of Sailor Moon. The first story arc of Crystal was already rough, but it turned into a dumpster fire when they tried to execute the Shitennou romance with the Inner Senshi. Classic told it’s own story and I think the execution overall is much better, Crystal felt like it was all over the place, especially in the first two seasons. The third season was better by miles, but it tripped out of the gate when it should have come sprinting out of the gate making it feel like a weak cash grab. No doubt it is, much like it’s shounen brother Dragon Ball Super. In terms of art Sailor Moon Classic also takes this category. Okay so it is not always consistent and it is not up to present-day standards, but that would be an unfair comparison. Sailor Moon Classic came out in the 90 and Sailor Moon Crystal came out in the 20-teens. They ought to be judged based on the standards for their own time right? If I judged Classic against the manga then yes the manga would win, but this is anime vs anime here and the quality for Crystal was just far below what it should have been, the inconsistency is way more jarring than in Classic, and the CGI transformations were cheap and they took me out of the moment. Even season to season they have a hard time staying consistent with the animation, granted season 3 was again an improvement over one and two, but my understanding is that there will be more changes with season 4 (the movie releases). For the music category, Sailor Moon Classic takes it yet again. The only thing I like about Sailor Moon Crystal as far as the music goes is some of the orchestrated stuff, I think that is better than Classic, but overall none of the songs are memorable, none of the transformation music is memorable, most people immediately think Moonlight Densetsu when they think of Sailor Moon and I can honestly say that there was maybe one song I personally enjoyed from Crystal and that was Eternal Eternity. The rest of the OP and ED songs were just forgettable honestly. In the mythos category, finally Sailor Moon Crystal takes it home for the win with the help of the manga because I did think the mythos in the manga was handled better than in Crystal, but Crystal tried. We actually understand our enemies, we know their history, we know their real motivation. Just looking at the first arc of each story as an example in Crystal we learn that Beryl wasn’t just some evil entity without a cause for the sake of being one like in Classic. We understand why she was so enamored by Endymion, where it wasn’t really clear before. She was a witch from Earth who was in love with Endymion and heart broken when he fell in love with Princess Serenity. We learn that the Shitennou were once loyal to the Prince Endymion, but their minds were poisoned against him. We get to see the darker side of Serenity’s anguish over losing Endymion. And one thing I liked was when they actually went to the moon in order to learn all of this history as opposed to being ejected into a different dimension by Kunzite which was just strange. I also like that we learn that all of the Senshi are princesses in their own right and get their powers from their respective castles and they have their own gowns which are awesome and I hope to one day see in Crystal. So congrats to Crystal and the manga by extension for the mythos. For character likability, Sailor Moon Crystal also takes this category (Crystal might be catching up). For whatever reason so many characters in Classic had their personalities altered to either extreme levels or shitty levels. Mamoru was a total dick and I can see why so many people dislike him, the Classic version of Mamoru was a real jerk especially in season one where he would make fun of Usagi’s weight and he was just borderline verbally abusive...well maybe not borderline, he was. Mamoru in the manga and in Crystal would never talk to Usagi or anyone that way, he may have teased her, but he was never cruel to her and you could see that he loved her much more in Crystal than you can see it in Classic. Usagi, don’t get me wrong I love Usagi, but it’s almost like she reboots every season, just about. We see her grow in one season and she’s just as immature, childish, and insecure in the next season. She’s far more mature in Crystal, even though she is clumsy and a bit of a crybaby at times, though when she grows she grows. Rei is just a straight up bitch in Classic and Chibi-Usa never stops being annoying, the only seasons I liked Chibi-Usa in were the seasons when she wasn’t there. She’s so much better in Crystal and in the manga, she and Usagi have a stronger bond and they care more for each other, and Chibi-Usa does what she can to cheer Usagi up as well. They are not opposing forces as much as they are in Classic. Michiru and Haruka are also woefully changed from the Crystal and manga version. In Crystal they want to work with and to the same ends as Sailor Moon and the others, Haruka desperately loves her princess and you can see how heartbroken she is when she can’t save her or when she fails her (especially in the manga). In the Classic they treat Sailor Moon and the others like they are in the way like they have to earn their respect, they often have different agendas from the Inner Senshi, and they come off as double agents too. Character development. Sorry, I have to hand this to Sailor Moon Classic, this is what I was dreading with Sailor Moon Crystal and anyone who has read the manga and is being honest with themselves should agree that the characters in Crystal and the manga are very much underdeveloped. Their histories, their personalities, their quirks are watered down and when you think you’ve gotten to know one character half a dozen more characters pop up to push them to the back burner. The Inner Senshi are quickly pushed aside when the Outer Senshi show up and you have even more Senshi show up in later arcs that the only characters you really get to know are Usagi, Mamoru, and Chibi-Usa. The others barely get a moment to shine. Ability and power growth goes to Sailor Moon Crystal. I always felt like the other Senshi were constantly lagging behind Sailor Moon in abilities, power growth, and transformations in Classic whereas they grow when Sailor Moon grows in Crystal so we get to see more abilities, transformations, and powers. Even Mamoru gets to be badass in a way that he wasn’t in Classic with his roses, he gets Tuxedo La Smoking Bomber which is pretty badass looking in spite of the name. Pacing is a tie! The pacing is pretty shitty for both of the shows, we can all agree on this much I think. Sailor Moon Classic was running alongside the manga so it kind of had an excuse, it had to have fillers so the manga could catch up. Still, it was stuffed with fillers, some of them I liked and they were fun, some of them were unnecessary and added nothing. Sailor Moon Crystal blows by really quickly, so fast you feel like you don’t get to know the characters very well, you don’t get a flushed out story, in fact, pacing contributes to the reason why Crystal fails in other categories and it kind of has the manga to thank for it. The Overall Winner is! Sailor Moon Classic!

#sailor moon #sailor moon crystal #sailor moon classic #moonvsmoon

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womanwiththepoppytattoo · 5 years ago

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“Codependency” is bullshit

7.26.20

I pulled the blog down for a while. I also deactivated my Facebook account. If I could have found a large rock to hide under, I would have. Why? Because I shared this blog, this very personal blog where I expose all of my pain as well as my most important thoughts, with a few people I thought might understand, might appreciate it, might care. Most of them didn't care enough to read it. The ones that did, (metaphorically speaking) backed away from me slowly.

Grieving the loss of a child is extremely isolating; no one really wants to understand. Add in the complicating factors in my case, and what you get is an experience so far off the charts that literally no other human on Earth can understand what I'm going through. Or, so it seems to me at least.

And I know my writing is not perfect. My thinking is not perfect. Maybe I'm insufferably self-important or self-righteous. Maybe I'm actually delusional. When you speak your truth the way I am doing here, you make yourself vulnerable to all kinds of judgments. Nonetheless, speaking our truth is the most important work we can do.

In recoiling from the rejection of the people I was trying to connect with, I also lost my connection to Rey, my connection to the universal consciousness. When we put up walls to protect ourselves, they keep out everyone and everything. This is not the first time I have felt my connection to Rey dissipate. It happens sometimes when the bad memories overwhelm me. But I have come to understand that it is not that he is not there, it is that I am not receptive. The "interventions" occurred because I was receptive to them. There is no transmitter, there is only a receiver.

Rey's spirit is always with me; I am the one who must tune in to him. So last night as I lay in bed, I repeated over and over again, "I love you Rey." And in offering love, I opened myself up to receive love, and I did receive it.

So, today I am back, writing here again. Because what I need to say is too important to keep to myself. I was given what I was given for a reason.

I am going to dive in and talk about something I feel very passionate about. In fact, one of the reasons I feel so isolated is that I can't find a therapist I can work with because they are all so brainwashed by this particular ideology that when you reject it, they have nothing else to offer. I am referring to the ideology of "codependency."

There is not much that upsets me more than someone suggesting that, because I was the victim of a narcissist, I must be "codependent." A codependent is, according to the mythology, a pathetic creature who lacks self-esteem, self-love, and emotional independence, and who is bossy and controlling. This is a dogma that has taken hold of both the mental health profession and the subculture of survivor support groups. I have always instinctually rejected this ideology, but the only book I have found that validated my thinking on this was Attached by Amir Levine and Rachel Heller. With some determined Googling, you might also find the occasional blog post, like this one. Overall, though, there are too few voices standing up against this toxic ideology.

I understand where it comes from. In the mental health profession, you can only fix the person in front of you. You can't fix society and you can't fix the abuser who doesn't want to be fixed. But what if the way we are "fixing" the victims is actually perpetuating myriad social problems, both the obvious and the not-so-obvious?

The version of the ideology of codependency that has spread through popular culture suggests that those of us who allegedly suffer from this malady have an unhealthy dependence on someone in our lives: we are addicted to an unbalanced relationship. But what is an addiction? It is not simply a dependence. We are dependent on oxygen, food, and water, and we do not call these addictions. Addiction could reasonably be defined as an unnatural dependence on something that substitutes for a real need. And connection to others is a real need. In fact, it is the one that we are usually using addictions to cover up.

We are all, to some degree, some of us more than others, starved for connection. We are surrounded by other humans, but the disfunction of our culture keeps us from being able to connect to each other except under certain special circumstances. This is especially true for introverts. So, when, after years of starving, we finally find this connection with someone, of course we grab onto it and we fight for it with everything we have.

One of those special circumstances is understanding: meeting another person who uniquely "gets you." Rey and I understood each other. In spite of the differences in age and background, we had a lot of important things in common. Of course, narcissists understand everyone: a very high degree of social intelligence is part of their pathology. Empaths - which is what I am - understand everyone too, in our own way. It is the same intelligence, the same need for connection, the same signals interpreted by different receiving equipment. But even beyond this, there was a predestined feel to our relationship that evoked nostalgia for me right from the start - he just felt like a piece of my soul. And I can only guess, based on his behavior, that something similar happened for him. I ignored a lot of "red flags", but, at the same time, I perceived him more truly than anyone else. I am the only person close to him who was not surprised by his death and who has not been surprised by anything anyone has told me about him since. I may be the only person who really understood him; and that is, of course, the reason why he was so uniquely cruel to me. The narcissist cannot stand to see his true self reflected back to him in the eyes of another, even if that person accepts and loves him. But avoidant people, including narcissists, need connection too, even if they are incapable of accepting it. They are driven by this need and by their own vehement rejection of it. Were it not so, they would just be simple con artists. I can't deny Rey screwed me over financially to an embarrassing degree, but he actually could have exploited me much more effectively and intelligently, and not ended up on the street, sleeping in other people's cars, if he had not been tripped up by his own emotions.

My point is, connection is a universal human need. We are not designed to be islands and meet all of our own emotional needs; nor are we meant to engage in only transactional relationships. Even if you reject the spiritual element, this is obvious from an evolutionary point of view. Humans evolved in small, tribal groups. We did not have millions of people to choose from: we were stuck with the few people we had for life. We did not have the luxury of cutting broken people out of our lives. We had to fix our relationships, and we had to fix each other; this was a necessity for survival. This is what we evolved to do and it is what we are supposed to do. Our modern culture tells us this is unhealthy; that we should have boundaries and only worry about ourselves. That we cannot fix anyone else. And, for this brief moment in history, this last part is true; because the narcissists and other broken people today have an infinite number of new, unsuspecting victims to choose from, so they have no motivation to change their behavior. But this does not mean that empathy and unconditional love are pathological; it does not mean that putting up walls to protect ourselves from each other is natural or healthy. It is not. The empath is not broken; society is broken. And we are all paying enormously high prices for this brokenness, whether we acknowledge it or not.

The codependency paradigm is a symptom of what I call our society's toxic individualism. The implications of toxic individualism are visible in literally all of our social problems. This is why I cannot be silent about it.

For now, I will leave you with a quote from an important book I just finished reading, One Mind by Larry Dossey, M.D. If the metaphysical aspects of my writing appeal to you at all, I recommend this book.

My message is that there is a way of recalibrating our collective response to all of these problems - a move that then permits a cascade of solutions to fall into place. This approach requires rebooting our ethical and moral stance toward the earth and toward one another. It is about changing channels, redialing our basic concepts of who we are and how we are related to one another and to the terrestrial crucible that sustains us. I believe that the concept of the unitary, collective One Mind, a level of intelligence of which the individual minds of all sentient creature are a part, is a vision that is powerful enough to make a difference in how we approach all the challenges we face - not as a mere intellectual concept, but as something we feel in the deepest way possible. As Hesse said in the prologue to Demian, "I have been and still am a seeker, but I no longer seek in stars and books; I have begun to listen to the teachings my blood whispers to me."

#one mind #toxic individualism #narcissistic abuse #codependency #grief #attachment theory

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doctorwhonews · 8 years ago

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The Third Doctor Adventures Volume 3

Latest Review: Written By: Nicholas Briggs, Andrew Smith Directed By: Nicholas Briggs Producer: David Richardson Cast: Tim Treloar (The Doctor), Katy Manning (Jo Grant), George Watkins (Delralis), John Banks (Jickster), Amy Newton (Elaquon), Robin Weaver (Arianda), Iain Batchelor (Adam Rigg), Robert Hands (Major Hardy / Crewman), Richard Derrington (Commander Burton), Ian Cunningham (Sinko / Ronson / Lieutenant), Jake Dudman (UNIT Radio Operator) and Nicholas Briggs (The Daleks) Released by Big Finish Productions - August 2017 With much of Big Finish’s annual Doctor Who content becoming inevitably geared around taking advantage of their recent acquisition of the New Series licence, from The Lives of Captain Jack to The Diary of River Song to UNIT: Assembled in the past year alone, classic fans of the TV series – and indeed its accompanying audio storylines – might reasonably begin to worry whether the 1963-1989 Doctors will plummet down the agenda, to the point of them rarely warranting a look-in beyond the odd multi-Doctor crossover. Quite to the contrary, however, as well as continuing the escapades of Peter Davison, Colin Baker and Sylvester McCoy’s incarnations via their Main Range along with William Hartnell and Patrick Troughton’s in the Early Adventures saga, the studio has reaffirmed its commitment to Jon Pertwee’s ever-wise, ever-courageous and ever-defiant version of Theta Sigma this Summer. Enter The Third Doctor Adventures Volume 3, the latest edition in an ongoing series of boxsets showcasing the incandescent Tim Treloar’s captivating take on the character in the late and great Pertwee’s absence. This time around listeners can expect both a flavour of the new and the familiar from scribes Nick Briggs and Andrew Smith, their dual, standalone four-part serials combining shades of Who’s recent and distant past with innovative new conceits to form a potent concoction of wonder and adrenaline-fuelled action. While certainly not without its notable blemishes, particularly in the first half, Volume 3 is all but guaranteed to sate the appetites of long-running Pertwee aficionados as well as diverting its path just far enough from the beaten track of nostalgia to avoid intimidating newcomers either… “The Conquest of Far”: If we consider the two serials presented here as a wedded couple of sorts, their marital ceremony spanning the set’s sizable 5-hour runtime and the presents offered up at the reception conforming to that age-old saying of “something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue”, then Briggs’ opening salvo unquestionably fills the first and third of those criterions. Much as he avoided plumping for the traditional “…of the Daleks” syntactical structure when titling the piece, the man best known for voicing Skaro’s finest in the New Series has crafted a classic invasion story centred on Davros’ creations to kick off proceedings, one set just moments after Series 10’s Planet of the Daleks (1973) to boot. En route back from giving their archenemies a rather frosty reception on Spiridon, the Doctor (Treloar) and Jo Grant (Katy Manning, as bumbling but endearing as ever throughout Volume 3) soon find themselves inadvertently tumbling to the planet Far instead, ready to face another onslaught from the Kaleds’ final mutations with the Earth Alliance’s begrudging assistance. If nothing else, it’s certainly a premise which would’ve felt right at home in Series 10 as surely was Briggs’ intent, as would the motley band of human and alien resistance fighters with whom they work and vie to ascertain the likelihood of their – and indeed any Far resident’s – survival against the near-insurmountable odds of liberating a near-fatally weakened planetoid. Unfortunately though, while “Far” gets off to a compelling enough start, soon splitting up our intrepid time travellers – as has so often been the case in the great Who serials – to meet the various factions living under Dalek tyranny on Far and teasing the Daleks’ nefarious purpose for the long since conquered world, events soon become rather predictable, leading to the same inevitable sacrifices and pyrrhic counter-plays for which the show’s invasion sub-genre has become so irreversibly known over the last 54 years. Try as they might to reinvigorate proceedings with their energetic, psychologically tormented takes on the wearied, warring rebels tasked with overthrowing the Dalek regime, supporting stars like George Watkins, John Banks and Amy Newton – among others – struggle to bring much depth to one-note players, each of whom’s sole purpose is seemingly to progress the rather mundane plot above all else rather than undergoing any thematic personal journey. Even Briggs himself sounds as if he’s on auto-pilot as he voices Who’s most iconic foes, a fault again perhaps of his own creation given how little his script experiments with them – surely episodes like Dalek, Asylum of the Daleks and Into the Dalek have proven it’s possible to break the invasion, base-under-siege or interplanetary scheme mould? If Big Finish plans to continue rolling out stories featuring the Thals’ mortal enemies with such rapidity – between The War Doctor, The Churchill Years and Order of the Daleks in recent months, we’ve had more than our fair share of overblown, galaxy-threatening plots – then they’d best consider how to innovate upon such tired narrative structures for the characters, or perhaps give them a well-earned break as Steven Moffat did in the 2011 TV run. Thank goodness for Treloar and Manning then, both of whom ensure what’s otherwise a disappointingly by-the-books first half for Volume 3 remains thoroughly entertaining listening regardless. Whether it’s the former channelling Pertwee’s immense authority and unyielding sense of hope, even in the gravest of circumstances where all chances of success appear lost, or Manning endowing Jo with an admirable aura of bravery, even when inside she’s clearly as terrified by the events of “Far” as any other player, the two wholly capable lead stars sizzle both when they’re sparring off one another and when they’re desperately attempting to ensure their quest to rid a planet of Dalek tyranny once more brings the least possible collateral damage. “Far” marks an uneven start to the boxset, then, one which stays afloat thanks to its lead performers’ stunning turns – not that we should be surprised by this point, admittedly – but doesn’t come anywhere close to matching Third Doctor classics like The Time Warrior or Carnival of Monsters owing to its near-complete lack of imagination and narrative innovation. “Storm of the Horofax”: Whereas Briggs opted to draft the safer – ironically, given its scale and its surprisingly inferior quality – of the two serials comprising Volume 3, Andrew Smith takes anything but a conventional route, rounding out the boxset with the far more understated yet resultantly far more successful “Storm of the Horofax”. Not dissimilar to “Far”, this riveting four-parter does pay homage to story elements from past Who serials both classic and modern, withInferno, The Time Meddler and even the cracks in time arc from Steven Moffat and Matt Smith’s first televised run of the series in 2010 springing to mind on various occasions. But if “Far” struggled to surprise, simply imitating what had come before without innovating upon the achievements of its hallowed predecessors, then Smith’s Earth-bound tale presents a model template for Briggs to follow should he hope to avoid making similar mistakes next time around. Every instalment of “Horofax” presents one of the aforementioned past conceits in a refreshing light which reinvigorates the serial at precisely the right time, with the story serving at once as a mystery, an invasion-driven thriller and an intimate personal drama but never seeming tonally disparate either thanks to the subtle yet elegant manner with which Smith weaves together his divergent plot threads. Just as key to its success beyond the constantly subversive script, though, are Manning and Counter-Measures star Robin Weaver, the latter of whom plays a time-travelling psychic whose powers and hidden secrets threaten to play havoc with the Earth in both its physical and evolving temporal states. “Horofax” sees the pair strike up a refreshingly unpredictable dynamic, developing from sympathy to spite to supreme terror for reasons this reviewer shan’t spoil, not least since half of the joy of experiencing a brilliant romp like this is doing so with all of the major surprises intact. Better yet, Manning doesn’t need Weaver to play off in order to tug at the listener’s heartstrings either, some of her fraught exchanges with Treloar’s Doctor towards the latter stages of the play transporting Jo through a powerful emotional gamut unlike almost anything we saw the character experience on-screen in the 1970s. As ever, all this isn’t to say that Smith doesn’t have scope to improve his Who contributions further should he return for Volume 4 or indeed as he presumably continues to write for Big Finish’s various other ranges. While Weaver’s at first tantalisingly restrained quasi-antagonist grabs our attention within just moments of her debut, once her true intentions become clear towards the second half, Arianda’s motivations for her actions seem difficult to trace, with the about-turn she performs of course inevitable – every serial needs its threat, after all – but also lacking the beneficial psychological context or backstory which might have lent her the depth of classic villains like Davros, the Family of Blood or the Master. Listeners won’t soon forget Arianda, that’s for sure, yet it’s tough to envision the Doctor truly fearing the prospect of her potential return either. But tossing its minor characterisation issues aside, “Horofax” nevertheless excels at providing both the quintessential Third Doctor experience that fans of Pertwee’s early ‘70s era will have come for as well as the revitalising shocks in which “Far” came up so sorely lacking. Despite “Far” getting proceedings off to a disappointingly unambitious start, with “Horofax” Smith has ensured that both diehard Pertwee devotees and newcomers looking to explore the Third Doctor’s era should come out satisfied, ready for another slice of 1970s – or should that be 1980s? – action in the not-too-distant future. Oh, and one more thing: stop, don't move! http://reviews.doctorwhonews.net/2017/09/the_third_doctor_adventures_volume_3.html?utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=tumblr

#THIRD DOCTOR #BIG FINISH #{s{BFTheThirdDoctorAdventuresVolume03}}

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