forum From Dark to Light, From Madness to Sanity (1-1, Closed, Mature)

Started January 08, 2023 by @Serpentess health_and_safety language

tune

Phalakros stared at her in confusion. She was trying to calm him? With magic? How? How was that possible? He knew of telepathy, knew far too much of it than he liked, but he’d never encountered the ability to ‘send emotions’ to someone.

He followed her gaze to the valley, and saw a wall of faint blue swirls. It was a massive illusion. Then, the woman shot a lightning bolt at the illusion, and it fell away. The destruction reminded him of Lucitius. Though… the buildings were still intact. Lucitius, in the very rare moments that he destroyed a city, never left evidence of its existence. He wiped the place clean.

Phalakros looked back at the woman, noticing how she avoided the sight behind him. Though, her words confused him. Otherworld? Solaria? Where was he?

“I… I am from the native realm of mine race. Yet, I have also lived on the realm known as Earth. I… I had found a Wild Portal, and was hoping to get home. Yet, I… I guess I got lost. I… I know not how to get back. Wild Portals are rare, and… and I have no way to get home on mine own. I…”he explained, becoming increasingly shaky as he spoke.

Farah felt his confusion at her abilities, and it raised yet another question in her mind. Had this man ever seen a fairy before? Did he know of the Otherworld's existence? Well, if he didn't before, he certainly did now. But he at least knew of the First World. That was something Farah could work with. But she hadn't the faintest idea what a Wild Portal was. The closest thing she could think of would be a gateway ring.

She watched him look across the landscape, studying the remains of the civilization before them. A new kind of ache filled her, one that she'd been burying deep down for years. It had all been awakened ever since the encounter with Stella, Aisha, and Terra in her office when she'd been told that Bloom had unleashed Rosalind back into the world. She'd gone down into the undercroft to check, and sure enough, Farah's former mentor hadn't been there. Her stasis had been broken. And now, after everything that had happened in the graveyard…

Farah inhaled steadily. "I believe I can help you," she began. "I've just lost everything dear to me, so I'm in a similar place to your predicament. My name is Farah Dowling. What's yours?"

Phalakros listened to her, wary but hopeful. It saddened him to hear her situation, even though he didn’t really know her. Though, at least she had a name. That proved she was real.

“I am Ph… Phalakros. And, if you were wondering, I… I was the bird you saw earlier. I am a shapeshifter, though I only have two forms,”he said timidly.

He turned away, fiddling with another feather in his hair. A moment later, he froze, his eyes locked on the cliff behind Farah. Black, shadowy claws scraped at the ground, then a demonic serpentine creature with tiny wings and beady red eyes climbed up and stood on its four feet. It grinned evilly at him, hissing like it had earlier.

“Leave me be. Leave me be!”he whimpered, backing away from it.

The serpent stalked toward him, still grinning with its black fangs, tar dripping like venom from its mouth. It wasn’t real. It was just another hallucination! But, those claws could inflict real wounds, and worse.

“Why do you not leave me be?”Phalakros cried, still backing away.

Farah's eyes widened a bit. "You are a shapeshifter," she murmured, studying him with awe. "I've never met one before. I've only read of them. That's fascinating…" She realized soon after that she was staring and looked away with a very faint blush of embarrassment.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to stare. I'm only very curious. How exactly is it that-"

Her gaze snapped back to him quickly as she listened to his whimper and fearful cries. She took a small step back, raising her hands slowly to show she wouldn't hurt him. But that was when the fairy realized that his gaze was locked on something over her shoulder. Hesitantly, she turned to look at what it was… and saw nothing. Farah frowned with confusion, narrowing her gaze and glancing around worriedly for what it was that was causing Phalakros so much fear.

After a moment, she had an idea. While she didn't like entering another's mind without their permission, her eyes illuminated silver-blue anyway, and she entered his head. Immediately, the creature came into her sight.

Farah's eyes widened, and she backed away from it quickly. "Phalakros," she whispered, feeling her heart beginning to race. "What is that?"

Phalakros nodded then blinked, a bit confused. She’d never met a shapeshifter? Most of the creatures Phalakros knew of were shapeshifters. There were countless examples of them everywhere! Or… at least at home. In this place, the Otherworld, it was possible that shapeshifters were more rare, or even nonexistent. He didn’t know though.

He shook his head as her apology. He understood why she was staring, and he was just shy by nature. There was nothing wrong in that.

As the serpent stalked toward him, Phalakros barely registered Farah’s movements. It moved around Farah, ignoring her as its red eyes glared at him. Though, a few moments later, something changed, and both Phalakros and the serpent froze.

Telepathy. The intrusion of another mind. It was wrong, so horribly wrong! And, very unwelcome.

Phalakros whimpered, shaking his head at Farah’s question. He couldn’t find the words to describe it, to explain what it was. In fact, he couldn’t even remember how to talk. No. No!

The serpent turned its glare onto Farah, viciously hissing at her. It then opened its mouth wide, tar oozing out in thick strings as gurgling words, telepathic words, came forth from it.

You do not belong here, Fae! Leave! Or watch your pet suffer!

The serpent then turned to Phalakros, and it growled. The sound seemed to echo loudly in Phalakros’ head, growing louder and louder with every terrified beat of his heart.

Phalakros cried out in pain, falling to his knees and holding his ears tightly. Maroon blood quickly started to ooze from his ears, and within moments, he was deaf to everything except the serpent’s growl.

Farah's eyes widened as the serpent turned to her and hissed. The sound, accompanied by the tar, was just plain terrifying. And the words sent a shock through her. It knew she was a fairy… it could see her as she saw it… it would hurt Phalakros…

At the last thought, she shook her head. "Please don't hurt him," she whispered before withdrawing her magic. The monster disappeared from her sight, then she could see the blood coming from Phalakros' ears. "Oh!" she cried, hurrying over to him. "I'm sorry," she whispered, gently placing her hand on his arm. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

A gurgling, mocking laugh was telepathically sent to Farah as she withdrew from Phalakros’ mind. The serpent clearly had no intention of heeding her plea.

Phalakros didn’t hear Farah at all, but he certainly felt her hand. He jolted and yelped, turning to face the thing touching him. He then stared wide-eyed at Farah, his bloody hands shaking in front of him as he tried to remember if she was real or not.

When he finally did remember, and when he noticed the serpent’s approach, he lunged forward and wrapped Farah in a tight, desperate hug. His entire body trembled horribly, and his ears continued to bleed.

The serpent’s growl only grew louder, and his head was pounding like it never had before. Why was it doing this? Was it trying to kill him now, after all the millenia it had haunted him?

No. I do not wish you dead. You are still mine. And, only mine. Your thoughts are for me to keep, not this Fae whore! Or… would you rather I take her, instead of you? Would that not be delightful? Ravaging her mind, like I have yours?

Phalakros whimpered, closing his eyes tightly as black, smoky tendrils drifted around Farah, reaching for him. Its claws brushed against him, caressing him, taunting him. It wouldn’t be long before they would be digging into his flesh and ripping chunks out.

Farah shuddered at the laugh that echoed in her mind. She debated going back, entering the poor man's mind again, just to fend the creature off. But no, she couldn't do that. It would likely end with Phalakros in immense pain, and she would never be able to forgive herself for such a thing happening.

She recoiled immediately as he jumped away from her touch. The last thing she wanted was for Palakros to fear her too. Farah only wanted to help him escape whatever demons were haunting him. But before she could back away further, he had lunged at her and was hugging her tightly. Her eyes widened, and for a moment, she stiffened in response to the touch. After a second, she took a deep breath and relaxed enough to wrap her arms back around him and return the gesture.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, gently stroking his back. "I'm so sorry."

Though she couldn't hear the serpent's words about her, she would be enraged if she could. However, she would also accept such a fate if the choice was demanded of her. It was the way she'd always been – placing herself in harm's way to avoid others being tortured for her sake. If Farah could bear the burden instead of another, then she would always accept it.

Farah held the man in her arms tighter. "Fight it," she urged gently, not knowing if he could hear her or not. The sight of blood coming out of his ears made her assume the worst. "I know you can. You're strong. Resist whatever darkness is tormenting you, Phalakros."

Phalakros didn’t realize that he’d surprised Farah, nor did he hear her apology, or anything else she said. However, he felt her start to rub his back, and it was something that he desperately needed. It was comforting, and reminded him of Synthia, the closest thing to a mother he had ever known.

When she tightened her grip around him, he took a shaky deep breath and tried to relax. It didn’t help much, but the more he focused on Farah, the quieter the growling became.

After a few moments, the serpent went from growling to viciously hissing at him. Any second now. Any second and it would attack. He would bleed, agony would shatter his focus, poison would eat his veins.

But, Farah was holding him. She was powerful, like Lucitius. She was trying to comfort him, like Synthia. And, so far, she’d proven to be an ally. And, most of all, she was one of the few people Phalakros knew that could actually see the creatures that haunted him.

Lucitius and a family friend, Kyliin, were the only others that could, and they had saved him from the actual creature that had given rise to his hallucinations. Farah, though, might be able to save him from the hallucinations themselves, something that the other two had repeatedly failed to do. If so, then maybe Phalakros would finally be able to sleep peacefully again.

Farah felt Phalakros trembling in her arms, taking a shaky deep breath and trying to relax. She continued to gently rub his back and hoped the action was as comforting as she intended it to be.

Still unsure as to whether the man in her arms could hear her or not, Farah began to hum softly. It was a song her mother used to sing to her when she was very very little. Farah didn't remember much of her mother – she'd died when Farah was young – but the song had always remained with her, though she had no idea why.

Suddenly, so suddenly that Farah almost released her gentle hold on Phalakros, a blinding pain shot through her neck. Farah cried out loudly and squeezed her eyes shut as tears instantly formed in them. She tensed immediately after, gritting her teeth, and clutched Phalakros tighter while she winced.

Farah's pain tolerance was relatively high after everything she'd been through in her life but this… she'd never felt this before. And she was about to pass out if the agony didn't go away soon.

Farah’s continued rubs were definitely helping. Phalakros was glad that she was still doing them. Though, he was unaware of her humming. The blood oozing from his ears was only now slowing to a stop.

Though, he immediately noticed when Farah tensed and held him tighter. Something was wrong. By the skies, did the serpent attack her? How? Why?

Phalakros straightened, looking at her with great concern. What was wrong? How could he help? He didn’t know any healing spells, and he didn’t know anything about this place or any of its medicinal plants and whatnot. How could he help her? Would he even be able to? Oh, why did he feel so useless?

The serpent started laughing at him from nearby. It was a cruel, mocking laugh, and one that tore at Phalakros as much as his own doubts. He wanted free of the torment, of the terror. But, he didn’t know how. Just like with Farah. He didn’t know how to help her. And, both bothered him immensely.

(Okay, so… sorry this is so fucking long 😅 But you get even more of Farah's trauma… you're welcome!)

Farah closed her eyes tightly and winced. The pain was blistering, and it was coming at the worst time of all. Why couldn't it wait until she'd been able to help Phalakros with his own demon? The fairy gritted her teeth and forced herself to swallow. Then, in an instant, she was somewhere else. Though, without her knowing, the scene before her eyes was only a memory replaying in her mind. Her physical body was still at Aster Dell with Phalakros.

The graveyard before her was in a wooded area and quite beautiful, but the beauty of it all was stunted by the presence that was approaching from behind Farah.

"You buried them," a female voice said. "How noble."

The voice and its owner were far too familiar for Farah's liking. Still, she responded simply, "Well, it seemed fitting, seeing as they were clearly human at one time." Farah paused a moment then turned around. "But then you knew about them, didn't you?"

The sight of the woman greeting her was a sight Farah had hoped to never see again. Yet Rosalind's icy blue eyes, stark blonde hair, and military-like clothes all faced the younger fairy as real and painful as the memories she triggered in Farah's mind. "I did," Rosalind answered easily while nodding. "I did."

"Are there more out there?" Farah couldn't help but ask.

Rosalind smirked. "Shit ton." With that, she lowered herself onto an old, iron bench at the edge of the graveyard's clearing. Her smirk faded into a deceptively sweet smile as she patted the space next to her as an indicator for Farah to sit. The younger fairy only stood up straighter and even lifted her chin a bit higher in the air as she looked anywhere but at Rosalind and the bench.

"Oh, God. Don't pout, Farah," Rosalind quipped in a way that she probably thought might sound teasing. When Farah made no move toward her, Rosalind sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'll let you in on a little secret. Just this once." Against her will, Farah knew Rosalind had caught her attention. So she listened as her former mentor spoke.

"There's a legend. It's a thousand years old. That's how old the Burned Ones are, by the way. They were soldiers from an ancient war. The legend is about the magic used against them. It created them. It's powerful. It's primal." Rosalind paused for a second. "The Dragon Flame. It burns inside our changeling friend."

A realization set off inside of Farah. "So that's why Bloom was able to transform so easily," she murmured.

"With my guidance, yes," Rosalind supplied. Farah had to hold back from rolling her eyes. Her former mentor always gave as much credit to herself as she could. "The Burned Ones never stood a chance."

Another realization sparked in Farah's mind. This one made her far angrier than the previous one. "You let Burned Ones into the school to test her? Risked the lives of countless students?"

"There's a war on the horizon," Rosalind immediately retorted. This time, Farah did roll her eyes. "The Burned Ones are nothing compared to what's coming. I fear you lack the composure to lead the next generation into it."

Farah couldn't help but laugh as she heard Rosalind's words. It was what she'd been waiting for. "And there it is," Farah mused. She made her way over to the iron bench and sat down on the opposite side, making sure that there could be no point of contact. Rosalind watched Farah's movements like a hawk. There was a generous amount of space between the two fairies before Farah continued speaking. "Once I stepped out from under your shadow, I saw a world full of light. Turns out this place isn't miserable." She sighed and studied Rosalind's face. "It was just you."

Rosalind seemed to have been waiting for something like this to come up, just like Farah had been waiting for her mentor to tell her that she wasn't good enough. "What a shame Queen Luna doesn't agree with you."

The words came out so quickly and cleanly that it took Farah by surprise. The soft, half-smile that had been on her face was immediately replaced with a cold, stony expression. None of that deterred Rosalind, however. And she continued speaking.

"I was planning to threaten her with exposing her role in the cover-up at Aster Dell, but, apparently, she's been mad at you for some time," Rosalind remarked with a smile in her words. "Something about her daughter and Ricki? Dreadful name. Anyway, she agreed the school could use a change. I have a feeling most of the faculty will fall in line when I walk through the doors." Farah stiffened at once. Her friends. Saul. Ben. The Winx girls. She had to warn them somehow. And it was as if Rosalind could read her mind.

"Ben will certainly keep quiet for the sake of his children. Saul would have been a problem, but he'll be on trial for the murder of Andreas. Sorry, attempted murder. Poor Andreas. It couldn't have been easy to stay in hiding for so long, but I needed someone to raise Beatrix, in case you were wondering who was working with me on the outside," Rosalind explained. Farah was shocked. Andreas was alive?? And Beatrix… Beatrix was the one who Farah had suspicions about since the start of the year. All the drama with Bloom had distracted her. Farah obviously been right, but there wasn't any time to consider that now.

"So, now all we have to talk about…" Rosalind cooed, inching closer toward Farah, "is you. I think you should take a sabbatical… Head to the mountains… Take a break. You've worked so hard, Farah-"

Farah immediately stopped Rosalind's motion by blocking the older fairy with her arm. She took a deep breath to steel herself. What Rosalind had just told her meant that Farah's entire world was upside down. Not one thing would be as she left it at Alfea when she returned. A cold, hard finality accompanied her next words. "I am the headmistress of Alfea." She stared Rosalind down, not breaking eye contact as she added, "And there's no way I'm leaving the school in your hands."

With that, Farah rose to her feet and began to walk away in the direction of the shallow graves she'd just made for the Burned Ones that Bloom had killed. But she was stopped by Rosalind's relaxed voice from behind her. "I know that." Farah straightened, hearing Rosalind stand up and slowly walk toward her. "The rest of the world might believe it." Rosalind stopped. "And if they don't…"

This was bad. Farah wanted to turn around, but suddenly she found that she couldn't. She quickly called her magic to her, just a second before Rosalind did. But when Farah's eyes turned grey instead of silver blue, she knew that her former mentor would not take Farah's betrayal lightly. Just after the thought passed through her mind, Farah felt herself being lifted up until she was hovering in midair about three feet off of the leaf-covered ground.

"What the fuck are they gonna do about it?" Rosalind finished, waving her hand in a quick, fluid motion. That was when Farah's neck was snapped. Rosalind let her former protégé hang in the air for a second before letting her drop limply back to the ground. She then used her magic to command the dirt. The earth swallowed up Farah, burying her and growing simple white flowers on top of her grave.

Farah gasped, coming back into her body from the vividness of the traumatic memory. She'd died? Then how was she here? In an instant, the pain from her neck vanished, and the fairy turned her attention to Phalakros, not realizing that she'd unintentionally been casting her memory into his mind the entire time.

"Phalakros," she whispered. "Are you alright?"

(Lol, you’re fine. I had known… from research, lol… that Farah dies, but now I know how. And, damn)

---

Phalakros continued to worry about Farah, until she seemed to project a memory of hers into his mind. He watched it all, temporarily consumed by it like Farah was.

The moment this Rosalind woman snapped Farah’s neck and buried her, Phalakros let out a shriek of horror. He saw her gasp, but when he heard her start to speak, he unconsciously teleported, a cloud of dense black smoke left behind.

Phalakros reappeared on the edge of the cliff and yelped again. He hadn’t even realized he’d teleported until it was already done.

“By the skies, why must they taunt me? First, ‘tis being endlessly stalked by black serpents. Now, it is talking to corpses in a land I do not even know, with no escape. Trapped. I am trapped. Lucitius, where are you?”Phalakros whimpered.

He continued to stand at the edge of the cliff, staring down at the water without actually registering it. His entire body shook and his skin was a sickly pale hue from the shock of everything around him. He wasn’t even aware of his surroundings anymore.

(Yep… watched the scene for the first time at 3 am after binging the entire first season, and cried for literally 15 minutes straight after.)

Farah jolted at the shriek of horror from beside her. Had the serpent demon attacked? What had happened while she was distracted? Was her new companion alright? She was about to repeat his name when Phalakros's body was consumed with black smoke and vanished. The fairy's eyes were huge. She couldn't believe what she'd just seen.

But then, she heard a yelp and turned in the direction of the cliff. There he was, Phalakros. Farah stood up, and her eyes glowed. She called to her air magic to advance her hearing and was shocked by what she heard. He thought her to be a corpse. There was no way that was possible. Farah was very much alive and in her own body. In control of her thoughts and words and magic. So what had happened between the graveyard and now? And who was Lucitius? Phalakros's family? A friend? Some kind of deity?

Slowly, Farah approached the man and cleared her throat to make her arrival known. She didn't want to scare him. "I'm sorry if I startled you," she began softly. "Are you alright? Can I help you?"

(Oof)
(Also, hopefully this isn’t too confusing)
(Hopefully Farah will forgive me, lol)

---

Without realizing it, one of Phalakros’ hands moved up to caress a feather in his hair. He still stared blankly at the ocean landscape, visibly shaking. Though, as the moments passed, a dark grey liquid started to ooze from the flesh around his claws.

He heard Farah’s voice as if it was from a great distance. Her words were so quiet, so sweet. Part of him wanted nothing more than to break that sweetness apart, a part of him that was getting stronger as the other part fell deeper into a blank state.

Oceans. Birds. Paradise. Peace. That’s what he wanted. What he needed. Could he ever find that? Or was he doomed to the life of a slave? Tormented by demons of the darkest form?

Phalakros looked up at the sun and saw only a void, a black hole that was slowly devouring the sky. It wasn’t actually happening, but, in another reality, another Plane, it was normal. No light existed in that other place. It was lovely.

Black ichor oozed from one of his eyes at the sight of its beauty. Of its horror.

“Help me,”he heard himself saying, but he wasn’t afraid.

No, he was ecstatic. He wanted to be free. He wanted to bring more of the blackness. Let the Void devour this world, this Plane! Let the arm of the Tar Plane feast upon the living, that its inhabitants might have more fun!

“I beg you!”

Phalakros coiled, covering his eyes at the horrors. The beauty was terrifying! He couldn’t take it anymore! He wanted the light back! He wanted the sun back! He wanted home, safety, clarity! Anything to free him! Anything to free it!

Phalakros lowered his hands to look at them, to see the ichor oozing from under his claws, staining his hands black. He froze momentarily at the sight, his hands shaking horribly, then he screamed at the top of his lungs.

Farah became worried when she noticed blackness coming from one of Phalakros's eyes. She continued to approach him, glancing up every now and then to try and see what he was seeing. Nothing. She saw nothing.

Her eyes quickly trailed back down to Phalakros as he spoke his plea. He didn't sound frightened, but Farah knew better. When one wasn't in complete control of their mind, the tone of someone's voice didn't matter. Their words did.

Then he was crying out and recoiling. Farah was at his side in an instant and before she could stop herself, her eyes changed colors and she entered his mind. What she saw was terrifying.

The sun wasn't a sun, but a deep, empty void of black. It was swallowing up everything, and it wanted Phalakros too. Farah wouldn't let that happen. She called to another aspect of her magic – light – determinedly pushed back against the wicked darkness.

Phalakros’ immediately stopped screaming when he felt the intrusion of another mind. He whipped around to see who it was, recognizing Farah, but in two different ways. One side was glad that she was there, the other side was enraged.

Then, the light… the seering, burning, boiling agony of Light. Phalakros shrieked, a hand going to his darkening eye, where the agony was worst. He then turned to attack her with his other hand.

Unfortunately for him, Phalakros was standing on the very edge of the cliff, and his turn caused one of his feet to slip. He lost his balance, then he was falling, staring up at Farah in a strange mix of terror and fury as he plummeted to the ocean below.

Before he could remember to morph into a bird, Phalakros crashed into the sea. It terrified him even more as water filled his nose and mouth, taking his air, consuming him. Just like the Fiend had done, the original parasite that had taken over his body before Lucitius and Kyliin pulled it out. And, now, the remnant of the Fiend was surging forward.

It feasted on his fear, and drew strength from water, something akin to its natural environment. Tar oozed out of every scale and orifice, covering him, bathing him. His eyes turned completely black, the burn from Farah’s intrusion healing. It was free, and it was angry.

Phalakros’ dark Alter Ego easily swam upward, then morphed into a raggedy vulture dripping with tar just before breaching the surface. It shot upward, speeding toward the cliff where he’d fallen, speeding toward his target. Farah.

Farah faced Phalakros as he turned to face her. "Phalakros," she began, but she stopped when she noticed his stance. He was going to attack her. But before he was able to do so, he slipped from the edge of the cliff. Farah's eyes widened, and she rushed over to the edge to try and save him somehow. However, she was too late. He plunged into the water, and Farah's eyes immediately began to tear up.

It was just like her to not be there in time. Rosalind was right. Farah hadn't been ready for this. There was no way she'd make it back to Alfea and be able to overtake her former mentor.

But just as she was about to turn away from the cliff, she saw a black form shooting up out of the water. She backed up quickly, having no idea what it was, and created a protective barrier in front of her just in case it was violent.

The vulture sensed Farah’s magic creating a shield around her, and an eerie grin curved its tar covered head as it came over the cliff and launched at her. It morphed into Phalakros’ true form, but his entire body was still smothered in tar, with his black eyes and evil grin remaining.

He slammed hard into the barrier, watching as it flickered from the impact. Then, he simply latched onto the barrier with his claws, actually gripping the barrier, and an inky substance oozed from his touch and into the shield, corrupting it. He then licked the shield with his blackened tongue, which was also much longer than it should’ve been.

“You cannot keep me away forever. You cannot protect him. You cannot protect yourself. I know you now, Fae. I know your scent, your heart, your face. Soon, I will also know your body,”he growled, his voice heavily accented by the gurgling of tar in his mouth.

The shield disintegrated from his corrupting touch and he leaped forward, tackling Farah. He stared down at her with sadistic glee, droplets of tar dripping from his body and charring whatever it touched on Farah, especially her clothes.

“I have met few telepaths in mine time with Phalakros. I must say, you are the most delightful of them all,”he purred with his gurgling voice.

He then kissed her.

Farah's heart raced as she saw the being that had come up from the water. A sickly blackened vulture with tar dripping from its wicked body. But as it appeared and launched itself at her, the bird morphed into the man she'd just seen topple over the cliff's edge.

"Phalakros?" Farah whispered. It was him, surely, but his eyes were black and there was something sinister about his expression. Everything about him seemed darker. "You're not Phalakros."

The fairy cried out in surprise and staggered back as he slammed hard against her barrier, so much so that her naturally steady magic wavered. Her eyes were wide as he grabbed her barrier and did away with it with his wicked touch. Now that her protection was gone, the darkness seemed to press in on Farah even more, and she steadily backed away from whatever being it was that had replaced Phalakros.

Her eyes narrowed at his words. They made her wildly uncomfortable and reminded her far too much of Rosalind. Thinking of her former mentor made Farah even more mentally weakened. She needed to force Rosalind out of her mind.

But while she was distracted with her past trauma, the being that was now Phalakros had completely disabled her barrier and leaped at her. Farah's back hit the ground so suddenly that her head also whipped back and she began seeing stars.

"Shit," she breathed and struggled against his grip holding her down. The fairy didn't notice the tar dripping on her clothes until a droplet landed on her cheek. When it touched her bare skin, Farah flinched away from it. "Release me," she commanded sharply.

His next words threw her off again. What did he mean? Before she could even process his words, he was kissing her. Her eyes widened, and she tried to twist away. Did he really think that she'd be willing to do this? She felt the darkness in him, and she was determined not to fall into it.

He gave a gurgling chuckle at her question, grinning wider when she realized that he wasn’t Phalakros. He fed off of her surprise and fear. It made him stronger, made her weaker. He loved this!

He stalked her for a moment before he had tackled her. He always loved a chase, but this woman was more powerful than most. He knew of only two others of her strength, and he hated them with a vengeance. He wouldn’t let Farah get as close as they had to killing him.

Sensing her weakening mind, he reached forth with his own, sticking a telepathic claw into the edge of her mind and hanging it there, too close to her thoughts to be comfortable, but not close enough for her to easily unhook it. He would use it later.

He then laughed at her when she landed on the ground, smelling just a pinch of blood from the back of her head. Lovely. She was even lovelier when she flinched and snapped at him. Farah thought she had control. She didn’t.

“Feeble commands will get you nowhere, Farah,”he mocked her.

He easily moved with her as she tried to twist away from him. After holding the kiss a moment longer, he lifted away from her now tar covered lips to inspect her throat. He snorted in disappointment.

“If only you were Ahkrethian instead of a Fae bitch. This would be much simpler. Yet, I have dealt with worse things,”he grumbled.

With a cruel, gurgling snicker, he sent the tar on his hands to lengthen his claws, temporarily revealing the bleached scales of Phalakros’ hands before fresh tar covered them. Then, with his longer claws, he started to scratch Farah, starting with her arms, and working his way up to her shoulders and chest. The scratches sizzled and Farah’s blood mixed with his tar. Maybe, if he scratched her enough, the mixture would give rise to something new. He hoped so. It would be so much fun to have a companion to spread more pain with.

Farah's eyes widened as she felt his presence enter her mind. His claw was concerning, and again, Farah was left in an uncomfortable position. She needed to put her wall back up and strengthen her mental defenses again. She hadn't realized how tight of a grip Rosalind had on her mind until Farah had seen her former mentor again in the graveyard.

The creature's laugh was wicked and foul. Farah fought back against his hold as best she could.

"My word is not feeble," she shot back, narrowing her eyes as he mocked her. "Get your hands off of me!"

She hated that his lips stayed firmly on hers as she tried to pull away. It reminded her too much of times when Rosalind had forced herself on Farah and not listened when Farah told her to stop. Though it was somehow worse when the kiss was broken. Farah could feel the tar he'd left on her lips, and she immediately tried to spit it away. She felt disgusting with it on.

As he grumbled, Farah took the opportunity to pull harder against his grip. She had to escape this. And then he began to sink his claws into her skin, scratching her arms until his tar and her blood met. Farah cried out in pain. "Stop!" she demanded, gasping for breath. "Stop!"

More of her traumatic past played through her head as the gashes reminded her of the Burned One's claws that had once attempted to scratch her too. Farah's rage and anger were building amidst her previous fear and anguish, leaving the mind fairy with a chaotic swirl of emotions that she didn't dare to channel. It would be too much, and who knew what would happen if she released it all.

But suddenly, a memory that felt far away slipped into her mind. It was her mother, before she died, hugging a much younger version of Farah as the child cried in her arms.

"I can't do it," Farah had said. "I just can't. I'm too sad. My magic won't work."

"Nonsense, darling," Illiana assured her daughter. "You don't always have to be happy to use your magic. To unlock true magic, you must make peace with all of your emotions. The reckless joy of the positive and the despair of the negative. There is beauty and power in both, my love."

With that, Farah snapped back into the present and, narrowing her eyes, called to her magic. Her eyes turned silver-blue, and hovering orbs of soft light began to surround the pair. She would fight the darkness. She would not give in. She had to make it back to Alfea.

He grinned as Farah’s eyes widened. She could feel his link to her mind. Good.

“You are feeble. And, no. You are mine, until I deem you mine no more,”he said with a snort.

He sensed her hatred and disgust, chuckling at her. She was helpless to him. She was his victim, and she would know true agony before he was through with her. Though, her attempts to escape were getting annoying. Mortals were always annoying.

“Why? Why should I stop for you, for anyone? Pain is pleasure! Pain is life! And, I am only beginning with you,”he retorted.

He continued to feed on her fear, moaning in euphoria as it became a chaotic mess of fear and rage. It was always fascinating to have a spicy meal.

He continued to scratch her, leaving wounds all across her chest and down to her abdomen. Once he reached her belly, he paused, pawing at her belly, studying it. Maybe he could find a way to get a new companion after all. He just had to figure out a way to start it. He was a half-dead parasite, not a man.

He froze when her eyes turned colors and he met her gaze with his own, rage growing on his face. Orbs of Light appeared around them and he screeched at her.

“You think your pitiful Light will help you? Let me enlighten you then. If you hurt me, you hurt your precious Phalakros! Kill me, and you kill him,”he snarled.

He then stabbed a claw into her belly, tendrils of ichor spreading through her body, seeking a host, regardless of what organ, or organs, it found.

At the same time, he used the claw he’d set in her mind and sent forth a muddling wave of dark fog. The claw itself slowly moved forward, eating away at anything it touched, specifically targeting happy thoughts and memories.

Farah's fingers curled into fists. "I am not yours," she hissed in response to his claim.

For just a moment, Farah froze. What he'd just said… Rosalind had spoken an identical version of those words after the completion of Aster Dell.

His euphoric moan broke her out of her stupor. He hadn't stopped scratching her. Farah was unsure what his intention was, but she didn't want to find out. "You're sadistic," she snapped.

Then he stopped at her belly, and for a moment, Farah got a reprieve. She tried to catch her breath and stable her emotions as best she could even as her other wounds stung painfully where the evil, corrupted tar touched her skin and blood. "Stop touching me."

Farah winced at the news. However, she refused to give in to this creature's taunts. And she had no intention of killing him – not yet. She would be figuring that out whenever Phalakros resurfaced from this demon taking his form. And with that, she fixed him with another icy glare and used her magic to increase the light. "Get out of my head," she demanded.

But that was when his claw plunged into her. Farah instantly closed her eyes and screamed with agony. Her pain only grew when she felt the wickedness inside of him begin to spread to her.

No… no, it couldn't end this way. She'd survived her former mentor's abuse and attempted murder only to die on the cliffs of Aster Dell at the hands of this devilish creature. If only she could call out to Saul. But he wouldn't be able to do anything, even if she could reach him. He was in jail for the attempted murder of Andreas. Rosalind told her in the graveyard, assuming Farah wouldn't live longer than their exchange. So who could she reach out to?

His claw in her mind began its wicked work as well, consuming her mind and breaching her memories. It was sucking her happiness away – she felt it. But before it could overwhelm her, Farah sent out a psychic communication. She could only pray that the other fairy would receive it and come to her aid in time. And that was even if she believed Farah was still alive.

He chuckled,”That is what you believe. Not for much longer though.”

He grinned when she froze. He’d hit a nerve. Lovely!

A gurgling laugh burst from him at her words. She was only realizing his sadism now?

“Of course I am! All of mine kin are!”he cackled.

“No,”he immediately replied, deliberately touching her more, and adding a little more claw into his touches.

He hissed when she increased the light, small bits of tar drying on his body before being covered by fresh tar, the agonizing process repeating over and over. His eyes also started to burn, ichor oozing from them. In retaliation, he slashed at her face.

Her scream brought him great joy and he burst into a fit of cruel laughter. Her pain was glorious! Her body a refreshing change to the limited, frail thing that was Phalakros. Oh, if he could only move to Farah. Unfortunately, he was bound to Phalakros, down to their genetics and deeper.

But, he could make a new entity, or try to at least. Farah would make a lovely host. All of her organs were healthy, untarnished by another parasite’s grip. Good, very good. She would be easy to consume. Easier if she would just give up. But, oh well, some victims were more stubborn than others.

He heard her cry for help and snickered.

Yes, call someone else. Call another victim. I have not fed in centuries, millennia even, he telepathically cooed.