SUMMARY: Jellal has a dream in which his former, mind-controlled self appears to have a conversation with him. Soon enough, things get heated and the situation takes an angsty turn for the worse. Only a certain scarlet-haired mage can save him from his worst nightmares. JERZA is obvious, but the story is mostly a one-shot drabble about Jellal and his thoughts.
He appeared in his dreams. Or rather, his most-dreaded nightmares. He looked like him. He talked like him. It was him. Yet, it was not. The bluenette stared at the other persona, his face gaunt and his jaw clenched. Though the other was a reflection of the mage, he was still a stranger to Jellal Fernandes. He didn't know him. But it was the same face he's looked upon every morning. Although, something about the figure made him unrecognizable. Maybe it was the way he constantly wore a smug smile on his mouth. Maybe it was the cold and distant look in his eyes, the mischievous gleam that was so uncharacteristic of the bluenette. Maybe it was the way he talked, the neverending, pretentious drawl that accented every word he spoke. It was one of those things. Or, it was all of them. Every little detail the mage picked out only added to the deep hatred he had of his other persona.
"Well, well, well," the stranger spread his hands, an impish grin set on his face, "look who it is! The one and only, Jellal Fernandes. Or is it Mystogan? Are you still undercover, hiding for our crimes?"
The ex-convict stood rooted to his spot, dropping his gaze. His fingernails digged into the palms of his hands as he forced himself not to speak.
"How was prison by the way? Fun? I'm sorry I missed it," the alternate continued, taking a step closer to the fuming bluenette, "but jail time isn't really my thing."
There was still no response from the mage.
The character sighed, shaking his head. He turned away from the silent bluenette and started to pace back and forth. After a few seconds of somber silence, the other snapped his head back towards current-Jellal, his eyes boring into his. "You don't talk much, do you?"
Current-Jellal kept quiet, his fists still clenched and his eyes still studied the ground. He wanted nothing to do with this—this— monster! He was sure if he willed it enough, he could erase the very existence of this persona. He didn't trust himself to open his mouth. Or else, everything would spill out, and in the end, he would feel worse than he already did. He didn't trust himself to make eye contact. Or else, the pain would be too awful to bear. Jellal Fernandes shouldn't care about some character in his dreams anyway. It was frustrating to the mage that he was worried over some fake duplicate of himself. It wasn't like the persona could take over his being, or somehow escape his dreams and enter reality— could it?
"K-Keep away," the bluenette ordered, his voice slightly trembling. He put a hand out in front of him defensively. The mage tried to summon his magic, but he should have known that his dreams don't often work to his advantage. Upon watching the distressed wizard, the alternate-Jellal burst out in snide laughter.
"Have I really fallen this much? What a dull-minded, weak failure I've turned out to be!" he jeered, sneering at the bluenette. To which, the actual Jellal responded by hugging his arms, his expression twisted with pain. He wished the other persona would just shut up already. Every word that came out from his distorted twin was so revolting and ugly. The mage drew back, wanting to retreat within himself, not wanting to deal with the vile man. He chose not to invoke anything physical, for it was unnecessary to have a conversation with his alter-persona. That was just redundant. Jellal tried pinching himself, desperately trying to wake up. This was just a horrible nightmare, a horrible dream that he wanted to escape. There was a reason why he pushed the character far back into the recesses of his mind. Yet somehow, here he was. And it seemed as if he won't be going anywhere anytime soon.
The alternate double then strode towards the reclusive wizard, suddenly grabbing him by the collar. The bluenette braced himself for a punch. Instead of hurting the mage, the persona pulled the mage closer to him, until the impersonator's mouth was inches away from Jellal's ear. The replica then delivered his oral punch, his lips pulling into a mad grin as he started his monologue.
"How's our friends? Did they live? Aw, but poor Simon didn't, did he?" the condescending figure chuckled darkly. The poor bluenette was now trembling from head to toe. He could feel his heart wrench, making his whole body go cold. Soon after, the pools of tears would form. The mage swallowed nervously, his mouth going dry. However, he yet again gave no reply.
"And Erza?" the duplicate pursued, his voice adopting a mocking tone, further infuriating the bluenette. "Dear, dear, Erza Scarlet. How much do you think she's cried? Over our actions? Over Simon's death? And do you know— she still loves us! What a tragedy! How disappointing it must be for her, to know that we would only let her down over and over again."
It was more than unbearable. The persona of himself was so disgusting. It was vicious. It was vulgar. It sickened his stomach. He wanted to block out the words the alternate said, but, like a deadly dagger, it pierced at his eardrums, forcing him to choke down every word. God, wouldn't someone stop it? This had to be the most insufferable nightmare yet. It was enough to drive him off the end. It took all of his willpower to just stand there and take its insults and cruel taunts.
"You know what was the most fun for me?" the duplicate drawled on. Then, his voice went quiet. "Seeing the trust in her eyes as we planned to stab her right in the back."
That was the final straw. Enraged, the bluenette grabbed the alter-Jellal by the shoulders and threw him to the ground. He then stumbled away, gasping for air. His hands were shaking. No, his entire body was shaking with anger. With his face red and contorted, he began to shout hysterically.
"YOU AREN'T ME! YOU WILL NEVER BE ME! I WOULD NEVER HURT ERZA LIKE THAT. YOU ARE A MONSTER AND I HATE YOU!" The floodgates of his mouth spilled open, emptying his innermost thoughts that he had tried so hard to control. His voice was cracked and raw, but there was no use stopping now. He had to say it. He had to say it all, or his mind would burst. "I WISH YOU NEVER CONTROLLED ME. YOU DESTROYED MY LIFE. BECAUSE OF YOU, I— I— I'LL NEVER BE WITH ERZA! IT'S NOT FAIR! IT'S NOT FAIR!"
There. He had said it all. With the few words that tumbled out of his mouth, it summarized the thoughts he would never share out loud. In that moment of his childish tantrum, his vent was a cry for help. He was so alone. It was pathetic and disgusting to think that only his evil-persona would be the only one who would understand. After all, they were one in the same, weren't they? Minus the mind-possession.
The persona witnessed all of this, the bluenette's blow up, his animosity, with the most amused expression. At the end, the duplicate merely laughed and got to his feet.
"Amazing!" the replica simpered, a crazed look in his eyes. "Why do you always refer to me as a different person? You're so naive! We've always been the same. I'm not some 'evil twin'! You're just too afraid to admit it! You are me. And I, you."
"No," Jellal muttered, his eyes misty. He dropped his gaze to the floor once again, exhausted from his outburst. "I'm not. I can't—I can't be you. That's not true."
"But I am!" the other countered, putting his hands on his hips, strolling towards the worn-out wizard once more. "I am what could be, what almost was. Stop living in denial, Fernandes, did you think you were really mind-controlled for the whole time? Get your head out of the clouds; it's time you stopped allowing yourself that excuse."
The bluenette was mentally and emotionally drained. He heard his other character talk, his words banging inside his head. He was in no state to argue. Still in a daze, the mage wondered if what the alter— no, himself— said was actually true. It was possible. The venom in the other-Jellal's voice was tearing into him slowly. It was discreetly shredding his being, his soul, his mind.
"This is why you have to let go. What are you actually going to achieve with your so-called atonement? Where are you going in life?"
Jellal had wondered this before, but when the duplicate said it, it sounded so convincing and true. Maybe he should listen. Ever since he had regained his memories back, he pushed these questions out of his head. He knew that one day, he would be forced to revisit them. Somehow, it was almost calming that his alternate-persona was saying them for him, instead of himself digging up the painful memories. Like a bandaid, it was like ripping it off all at once to check if the wound had healed rather than peeling it off agonizingly slow.
You're too far off course for redemption. There's no coming back. It would only make sense to continue down the dark path you headed for originally.
The replica of Jellal had vanished. However, it was still here, seeping into his conscious, binding the bluenette and the persona together. It crawled around in his head, jumbling his thoughts around. Already bruised and battered, the mage simply let the other run its course.
Why would anyone want to be around you? You've sinned too much.
Jellal didn't know if this was his alter's words or his own. He couldn't tell the difference anymore. It was funny, no matter how much the bluenette hated the evil-duplicate of himself, it was bewildering to think that they had so much in common. The wizard was now convinced that the look-alike and him were exactly the same. Why should he bother fighting himself? It would be less exhausting to just stand and listen.
Discard your cares and emotions. They have never helped you.
With that statement, a jolt went through Jellal's body, stupefying him. He looked up, but there was no one there. It was too late. The words molded into his mind, forcing him to decide what was right and what was wrong. But he didn't know. What was the right thing to do? What was considered wrong? The voice in his head was almost… reassuring. Out of the recesses of his cluttered thoughts, this one voice stood out above all the rest. It was confident. It was logical. Wasn't it? It gave him relief to his overwhelming headache.
What's the point in your punishment? You could be so much happier.
Worse, the voice sounded like it was telling the truth. The words were now scraping in his mind, sending him into shock. There was so much pain. He brought his hands to his hair, grabbing fistfuls of it. He felt so feeble and weak. A strangled cry escaped his throat, but he barely heard it. The voice was at a full-blown volume, dominating his ability to think for himself. It was bellowing in his ear, and he couldn't stop it. Somehow, he knew this was wrong. This was wrong. But why did it feel so good? He hated these words. But he loved it. He wanted the voice to stop. But he wanted it to keep going. Jellal Fernandes was in complete discord.
You used to be so much more. You had power.
It was as if two fronts had formed inside his head, brawling each other. Everytime they collided, it sent the mage into mind-numbing agony. His mind was emptied, leaving only the two opposing sides clashing together. It was all too much. He needed to end his suffering. He needed it to end now. The only way out was to comply with his voice. He had to obey.
So much power.
This time, the words didn't just form in his mind, but became words that came out of his mouth. The buzzing in his head had stopped. The voice had died down. Everything was calm and barren in his conscious. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Dropping his hands to his sides, he looked straight ahead, only to find a mirror that presented itself before the bluenette. With glassy eyes, he focused on the mirror. His vile, evil twin appeared to be trapped inside the glass. The bluenette waited for the duplicate to start his torment all over again, but instead, the other just stood in silence.
Suddenly, he realized the persona in the mirror was merely his reflection. The smug smile. The cold, calculating look in his eyes. The mischievous gleam. It was the revolting aura that surrounded him all along. And he hated it. It was the revelation he had been dreading to discover. But finally, it was here. All these years he had pushed it away from himself, living in denial, finally resurfacing.
A bubble of delirious laughter escaped from his throat. That was it. He had gone completely insane. He must have been. His mind broke, his soul broke, his entire being broke. The only thing that wasn't wiped from his mind was his fatal flaw. His fear of being weak. The bluenette had always feared of being powerless, of being defeated. The only way to extinguish his weakness is to gain power. That was all that satisfied him. He needed more and more. And when that wasn't enough, he'll continue to lust for more power. His greedy desires made up his entire being. He needed nothing else. There was no need for anything else. He would do anything for power. Nothing and no one would be able to stand in his way. That was his destiny. That would quench his neverending thirst to fill up the hole inside of him.
Jellal continued to stare at the mirror. The stranger in the reflection was becoming more familiar to him with each passing second.
tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.
It was all so much easier. All those years of atonement wiped away in the matter of a few seconds. He wondered why he hadn't thought of doing this sooner. It was all so obvious.
tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.
He told himself he was happy. He felt so elated; it was astounding to see that this had been the right path all along. In fact, there was no need these so-called "paths". That was pathetic. He needed no path to define him, for he would overpower everything and all.
tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.
Without warning, an invisible force pushed him into the mirror. Instead of colliding with the screen, the mage fell into warped glass. The world vanished. He was swallowed into the nothingness.
tick tock, tick tock, tic—
He was plunged into oblivion. He could feel the darkness consume him, wiping away what was left of "Jellal Fernandes". His morals, his hopes, his past— they all diminished as he fell. This was the final destination. He had no reason to fight against it. It was only a matter of time. There, drifting in the darkness, he could find peace. He would hide in it; it would take away his pain. He didn't want to fight anymore. He didn't want to suffer anymore. He had forgotten how good it felt to just not care about anything. The bluenette closed his eyes, embracing his destiny.
"I know the light within Jellal."
Taken aback, the mage opened his eyes. He was sure he had heard a voice. He looked around, scanning his surroundings. All the bluenette could see was darkness. Perhaps it was just his imagination, the leftovers that straggled to wash away from his mind.
"Such beautiful scarlet hair! Why don't we call you 'Erza Scarlet'? It's the color of your hair. That way, I won't forget it."
His body tensed. That was his own voice. But where was it coming from? And that word. "Erza Scarlet". It sounded familiar. The name radiated of warmth and consolement. He scoured into the deepest corners of his conscious, desperately seeking out any memories that connected with that name.
"It's your words that gave me courage. They became my light that would guide me towards the right path again."
Again, his voice sounded out of the nothingness. In contrast to his other voice, these words felt repeated. He had said this before. It had came out of his mouth. He was sure of this. He had forgotten about his "path" and his "light". He was convinced that this "Erza" was his light. It had to be; every time the name touched his lips, a yearning, yet discreet passion for it touched his heart. Then, he remembered he discarded all thought of paths. Why did he need one? The path he previously traveled was too painful to endure.
"The worst pain is… the pain of losing your light."
There it was again! Not his voice, but Erza's. The bluenette remembered now. The strong-willed voice could only belong to Erza Scarlet. Suddenly, a flash of a redheaded mage appeared in the deep recesses of his subconscious. Immediately, he seized the image, securing it in his head. He remembered. He remembered. Her scarlet hair. Her brave smile. Her hard eyes that melted anyone held by her gaze. Yet despite that hardness, her heart was full of overflowing affection for the ones she loved.
Abruptly, after saving the image of the scarlet-haired sorceress, more flashes of memories poured into his mind, overwhelming the mage. Some were sad. Some were frightening. But some were happy and light heartening. The majority of them involved Erza Scarlet. Every time a memory of Erza paraded by, it put a smile on his lips and a sentimental feeling in his heart. The mage was positive that she had to be someone special. She had said that the worst pain is the pain of losing one's light. That came as a shock to the blue-haired man. He was so sure that he could take the easy way out, hiding inside the darkness, shutting out the blinding light. However, Erza claimed the opposite. Although not entirely convinced yet, Jellal felt a strong devotion towards the redhead, wanting to appeal to her belief.
It was then that the bluenette realized the darkness was too dark. It was suffocating him. He gasped for air, only for it to come out in bubbles. He felt like he was underwater and he was the one slowly drowning. The mage flung his arms upward, grabbing at the empty space. He needed to get out. He had to escape the hellish oblivion. The darkness felt so thick; it was nearly impossible to move. The more he struggled, the more the darkness enclosed around him, immobilizing him.
"Live, and grab the future in front of you."
Jellal's eyes widened. With Erza's statement, a newfound strength surged within him. He was buzzing with energy. He grabbed and clawed at the nothingness with a frenzied pace, grunting with effort. At last, he could see the mirror, the hole which he fell into. Somehow, he was rising out of the darkness. The bluenette was almost there. He realized he had to make it— not for him, but for her. Despite his determined will to leave, the nothingness ascended at a horrifying speed. It was catching up to the frightened wizard, who promptly doubled his climbing pace. It became harder to move. The air thickened around him, almost becoming solid. His arms and legs felt like lead and the mage could feel his stamina draining away. Crestfallen, he wondered if this would be the end of his plight.
"Being alive… is a sign of strength!"
That's right— he was alive! He poured the remaining amount of power he had into his arms and reached out, gripping the edges of the mirror, pulling himself out of his oblivion. He gulped down a satisfying breathful of air. The bluenette collapsed on the ground, coughing violently. Although being tired, he choked out a triumphant whoop, laughing in relief. He half expected the voice to come back again, or worse, his alternate persona, but they were nowhere in sight. Admittingly, he felt loads better. When coming out of the dark, he felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from his heart.
He then struggled to stand, wincing as he did so. His body ached all over and his mind was still a cluttered mess. The mage checked himself all over, making sure he was all intact. To his favor, it was. His memories were all left intact as well. Jellal Fernandes was whole again. But it wasn't himself that he had to congratulate. He owed his success to a certain scarlet-haired wizard. Her words served as his constant reminder to stay on the right path. Erza was his drive, his simple push to keep moving forward. In fact, he already could feel the shame churning inside him, sickening him. He wished those repugnant thoughts had never crossed his mind. He cursed himself for being so petty and low, for giving up that easily. The mage then made a silent pact with himself to never turn into that kind of coward ever again. He would be strong, just like Erza.
It was so typical of Erza Scarlet. The blue-haired mage would always end up being saved by her, in reality or otherwise. She was just that important to him. Her words and actions had saved him, and he could only do so much in return. To make up for hurting the redhead in the past, he would need to atone. The path of redemption was the only way he could ever live with himself. And, it made Erza happy, which was all Jellal wished for her. When he would wake up, he would wake up with a smile on his face, full of content. For the first time in days, he could wake up with a sense of closure. He knew what he had to do. He could discard all his fears and his selfish needs because in the end, they would all be fulfilled by Erza. If he continued to stick on the right path, surely, he could catch up to the scarlet-haired mage, and they would finally be able to join hands, walking down the path of light together. It was fate. This was his true destiny.