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

Started January 08, 2023 by @Serpentess health_and_safety language

tune

The claw continued to rush forward toward Bloom, but it jolted to a stop as Stella created her light orbs. It shrieked again, the loudest sound it had made so far, and quickly shriveled and charred. It tried to keep moving, but pieces of it disintegrated into ash, immobilizing it. The burns continued to spread until only the claw itself remained.

The claw continued its pained wail, the tar drying and cracking, revealing actual bone beneath the tar. Then, it snapped in half, oozing tar. The shriek immediately died away, and the tar coating the claw disintegrated. All that remained after a couple minutes was a broken fragment of bleached bone.

Phalakros remained deeply unconscious, utterly unaware of Musa’s presence in his mind or the surroundings of his physical body. Luckily, he was too deep for dreams to find him. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean he could escape them. He’d have to go back through the dreams to wake up, and he would eventually. His weakened body would finish healing from the unnatural changes caused by the Alter-Ego surfacing, then he’d be waking up. It was only a matter of time.

(I didn't really want to draw out the transformation so… here lol)

Stella swallowed heavily, watching until the bone was the only thing remaining. After waiting a few seconds to make sure it wouldn't move or come to life again, she dimmed her light again, bit by bit, until it was gone. It was then that the girls realized Musa had collapsed. Aisha was by her side in an instant, Terra hovering worriedly behind her.

The water fairy studied her friend's face for a moment, then eyed the others determinedly. "We have to wake up Miss Dowling," she said firmly. "We have to heal her. It's the only way to fix all of this."

"But how?" Terra asked shakily.

"She already told us," Bloom answered thickly. "We have to use transformation magic."

Stella curled her fingers into fists. "How do you know we can?" she asked, glancing around at the other girls.

"There's only one way to find out," Flora remarked, still hiding her hand away in the crook of her arm.

Each of the girls closed their eyes and summoned their magic like never before. Bloom was the first, with fiery wings bursting from her back. Next, Aisha with water droplet wings. Terra and Flora had wings made of vines, and Stella's wings were made of pure light. Then, they each extended their power in a glowing stream toward Farah. The area was filled with a flash of light, and just like that, the magic was over.

Farah's body lay the same way it had been before the transformation of the girls, but it was notably different. Her hand and collarbone had been healed back to their natural states. The wicked scratches and claw marks along her body were gone, along with any trace of tar remaining on her form. Once the magic had retreated back into the girls, Farah's eyes flickered, and she gasped quietly.

"Headmistress!" the girls cried, surrounding her immediately.

"Girls," Farah groaned, sitting upright and holding her head. "A minute, please."

The Winx girls immediately backed up a step, each grinning wildly. But it was Aisha whose smile dimmed first. "Miss Dowling, Musa needs your help."

Farah was at immediate attention, and her gaze followed Aisha's pointed finger to the limp body of the young mind fairy. "Oh," Farah breathed, reaching toward Musa and gently cupping the girl's face with her hand. Her eyes glowed softly, and she inhaled sharply. She turned her head to look at the rest of the girls. "Please give us some space."

Obediently, the girls all backed up and formed a small group a few feet away. With that, Farah's eyes closed, and she began her descent into Musa's mind. But she didn't realize she was descending into Phalakros' dream.

Phalakros was savoring the blissful darkness around him, floating in a great expanse of quiet nothingness. It was wonderful. No dreams. No nightmares. Just peace.

It felt like hours had passed, when it had actually only been minutes. Then, something shifted. He was not alone.

He tried to sense what it was that had arrived, but he couldn’t tell. It wasn’t frightening, but nor was it familiar. Until he was abruptly ripped from the depths of the darkness, back out of the pool the skeleton hand had dragged him into not long ago. Then, it was frightening. Because, he was back in his chambers, or more accurately, a terrifying, tar-soaked replica of it. And, his own tar-covered hand held him.

“You thought you could escape? Wrong. The deeper you go, the closer you are to me. The more vulnerable you are to me. Like prized cattle ready for the slaughter,”the Alter-Ego purred, reaching forward to caress him with his other hand.

Phalakros whimpered, quickly ripping out of the creature’s grip and backing away. The Alter-Ego chuckled, a horrifying sound that was more gurgle than laugh.

“I can feel your desire to beg. Your need to run. Run, then. Flee from who you truly are.”

“I am not you!”Phalakros cried.

“Oh… yes, you are…”the Alter-Ego cooed.

The Alter-Ego faded, leaving Phalakros alone in utter terror. The walls then started to move, the tar starting to swirl and claw at his feet. He tried to scream, but he could only gurgle and choke as tar poured from his mouth. Lucitius help him!

Meanwhile, in the waking world, Phalakros’ body started to twitch. Tiny whimpers came from him occasionally as well. It was clear that he was having a horrible dream, but besides the little movements and noises, there was no other indications to show what it was.

(Got it! :))

Farah ventured into Musa's mind, searching for whatever was keeping her unconscious. Soon, she found her way into Phalakros' mind instead. She hadn't realized how in-depth Musa had gone. Going this deep without practice was dangerous, so Farah made to slip consciousness into Musa's mind and body. But as she was preparing to, she found herself yanked from the murky black depths by a bony hand.

A sharp bite of fear surged through her, and Farah channeled it into Musa instead. The younger fairy's presence was pulled from the dream without a second more to spare.

Then, Farah focused on Phalakros. She was a more established presence in the dream than Musa had been, and while Musa had only been able to watch, Farah had the ability to interact with the dream's components. But for now, she pulled back from the amount of exertion she was pouring into this. With a horrified expression, the fairy watched the encounter between Phalakros and his alter persona. This was going to be more complicated than she thought.

Once the wicked being had vanished, a new terror sprung to life. Tar swirled around Phalakros and even filled his mouth. Farah crossed the room and took his face gently in her hands. "Phalakros," she said firmly and calmly. "Look at me. Focus on me. You need to wake up."

–

Musa gasped and jerked to consciousness again. Her friends supported her as she stood, her legs trembling. The dream still lingered in her own mind, and her eyes locked on Farah's body with her eyes closed and face calm and focused.

"What happened?" Aisha asked gently. "What did you see in there?"

"You don't want to know," Musa answered hoarsely.

Phalakros continued to gurgle and cry until he felt hands on his face. A faint blue shockwave radiated off of him, but it didn’t seem to affect anything, least of all him. He then jerked away with a shriek of terror, falling onto his ass and hands. He crawled away desperately, his eyes not recognizing Farah.

He also had yet to realize that the room was clean. Even Phalakros was clean. The moment Farah had touched him, the entire landscape had returned to the peaceful, tidy room Phalakros’ chambers had always been. Unfortunately, Phalakros was too focused on Farah to notice.

“H… How are you here? Y… You cannot be real. Th… This… You… Why…”Phalakros stammered, trailing off in frustration at his uncoordinated tongue.

His thoughts, though, were not so uncoordinated. They filled the room. Doubt. Terror. Loneliness. The need to be free, to understand and be understood. And, the need to finally tell reality from dream, and dream from nightmare, because he didn’t know which he was in now.

Phalakros stared at Farah in wary silence for a bit, then seemed to decide that she wasn’t a threat.

“H… Help me. I cannot do this anymore! I… I must escape this… It. I must! Too long have I been tormented. Too… too long. I beg you! Even if I must die, I have to be free!”Phalakros pleaded.

Farah remained steady as Phalakros jerked away from her and scrambled backward. Her eyes softened with worry and empathy for the man. He was so so tormented. She wanted to help him desperately.

Phalakros may not have noticed the change in his room, but Farah certainly did. She took her eyes off of him for only a second to glance around. Seeing the complete absence of tar, she breathed a sigh of relief before turning her gaze back to him.

“I am real,” she assured him gently. “But you are only dreaming.”

His thoughts populated her mind as well, since she had slipped from Musa’s into his. Each struck her as plainly as if it were her own thought. And she just about started crying as she processed them. This man was in so much misery. She had to help him, despite her own needs to reclaim Alfea from her former mentor.

Farah let him study her and deem her harmless. She wasn’t, but she was harmless to him. Slowly, she approached him and knelt beside him. Being this close, the tears glistening in her eyes were visible.

“I want to help you,” she assured him gently. “But you must wake up.” Making sure everything she did was visible and slow so that she wouldn’t startle him, Farah lifted her hand into sight and carefully brought it beside his temple. “Will you let me wake you?”

“H… How do you know? Dreams are reality too! Reality is sometimes only a dream, only a fiction in our minds…”Phalakros whimpered.

Phalakros flinched as Farah approached and kneeled. He saw the tears in her eyes, and it finally clicked in his mind that she was real. He was always the one who had tears in his ears. And, now Farah. What was she, if not real?

He watched her warily as she spoke and lifted her hand. He moved away slightly, unsure if he wanted to dare her offer. What was the ‘waking world’ like? The nightmarish lands of his Alter-Ego? A place where the sun turns into a void? Water? Tar?

“I… I do not know. I…”he stammered.

He whimpered and curled up, rocking back and forth. In that moment, he seemed very much like a lost child. And, even though he didn’t say anything, his thoughts of needing comfort filled the room.

Farah was well-versed in dealing with panicked people. More often than not, it had been panicked fairies with magic on the fritz. This wasn’t… simpler, per say. But it was less complicated than dealing with runaway magic at the same time.

“I am a mind fairy,” she replied calmly. “I promise you that what you are experiencing is entirely a dream. I only wish to help you escape the nightmares and terrors that plague you.”

She observed him steadily, and she watched as his own eyes studied her. Farah didn’t flinch away. She remained firm and unwavering, allowing him to look over her and provide whatever reassurance he would need.

As he moved away, Farah paused her motion. She didn’t want to make him more skittish. So she waited a moment as questions rose in his mind.

“The waking world is unlike the horrid worlds of your mind,” she explained quietly. “I swear to you, I would not mislead you. I will keep you safe as best I can. Taking you to somewhere dangerous is the last thing I wish for.”

As he curled up, Farah’s heart broke for him. She gently rested her hand on his arm, giving him time to accommodate the feel of her touch before rubbing his back gently. “It’s alright. I will protect you, Phalakros. Your misery pains me deeply. I only want to help you, if you will allow me to do so.”

Phalakros eyed her warily when she mentioned she was a mind fairy, but he’d never heard of one, so likely neither has his Alter-Ego.

“Truly?”he asked quietly.

She stayed still for him, letting him observe her at his leisure. That was definitely not something the Alter-Ego would’ve done. It would’ve tried to manipulate him, soothe him, or otherwise convince him that it was no threat. This… Farah… She was not the Alter-Ego. He knew that for certain now.

“You sound like Lucitius…”he breathed, a hopeful hint coming into his voice.

He flinched at her touch, but he slowly calmed. Then, when she started to rub his back, the tension there finally started to subside. At her words, he cautiously nodded. It was a risk, in case Farah wasn’t actually Farah, but he needed out. He was utterly desperate for escape. And, Farah was currently the best option he had.

Farah smiled reassuringly. Her eyes even shone briefly with pooling tears for this poor man who had been so manipulated and used. She knew what it was like. At a time, she had been that way too without even realizing it. But those memories had resurfaced recently, and as much as Farah was struggling to pin them back down, she tried even harder to do so for Phalakros' sake.

"Yes," she answered. "Of course."

Whatever Phalakros saw in her that proved she was not another imaginative darkness from his brain, Farah was glad for it. Her words were true, and he was beginning to see that. How horribly had he been deceived before to have the intense need to validate another person? She didn't want to know.

The fairy was unaware of who Lucitius was, but she could tell but the emerging hopeful tone in his words that it was a good thing to sound like him.

Farah noticed his flinch and easily adjusted. She knew the touch would be startling at first, but that was why she paused to let him accommodate it.

His nod filled her with relief, and her eyes changed color once again. Immediately, she began battling away the darkness of Phalakros' mind. Her magic was weaker than it normally was, and using it so excessively in her current state was only going to drain her more. But she didn't care – Farah needed to free this tortured man from his mind. It was a brutal yet delicate process as she backtracked the wickedness of the dream to find the light of consciousness. When she did, the result was instant.

The headmistress gasped and came back into her body with a start. The Winx girls all quickly backed up to give her space.

"Miss Dowling?" Bloom asked.

Farah was too distracted by looking around for Phalakros to answer for the moment.

“Yet… h… how…”Phalakros trailed off, realizing that Farah was right, but not quite. Yes, he was dreaming, but not just any dream. It was a nightmare. One he’d had many, many times since that horrible incident that had created the Alter-Ego.

“Dream from nightmare. Nightmare from reality. Reality from dream. The cycle continues even now,”he mumbled, whimpering.

He appreciated her pause, and found yet another clue that Farah was not the Alter-Ego. It wouldn’t have paused. It wouldn’t have acknowledged his boundaries or his flinch. It also wouldn’t have kept up the guise for long. Once touching him, the Alter-Ego couldn’t resist the urge to overtake him. It was instinct for it. The innate need to consume and assimilate. To spread itself like a disease.

Phalakros watched as her eyes changed color again, cautious but curious. Then, the battle began and Phalakros immediately curled into a ball, whimpering as Farah’s attacks provoked the Alter-Ego. Tar and darkness blocked their entire way, threatening to swallow them whole. Phalakros even started screaming and whimpering, though he didn’t even realize it. At one point, the Alter-Ego appeared in-person and tried to scratch Farah, but the pair moved past it before it could reach her.

As they emerged from the pool of tar and into Phalakros’ original sanctuary in the dream, their surroundings blurred into nothingness. Then, Phalakros woke just as Farah returned to her body.

He burst awake with a gasp, teleporting a few feet away from Farah. His arms instinctively curled defensively around himself, and small whimpers escaped him. He then looked around, realizing where he was. It was daylight, outside, near a cliff of some world he did not know. People were close. Locking wary eyes on the group, he slowly recognized each one, recalling that they had all helped banish… it. Though, Farah was the one he knew best, so she was the only one he was willing to trust. But…

“You… You have healed. Yet… your… your wounds…”he gasped quietly, warily.