A/N: What if Judal hadn't been defeated by that blow? What if, instead of his fate of living like that, he became trapped? First Magi fanfic! ^_^
Trapped… A prison of my own making… it's my own fault. My fault. Is it really so wrong, seeking ultimate power? If only I had turned back, if only I'd never let myself be pushed this far... He tried to turn his head from its bent, blank gaze; tried to move his shoulders, his hands. Tried to move his broken, battered body, forcing his will to make his body get up off the floor. Can't move… A searing pain shot through him suddenly, making his throat burn with a silent scream, eyes stretched wider than they already had been as he stared at nothing, everything, the abyss. A prison of ice and darkness: a reflection of his heart. Damn it… Another surge of pain, stronger this time, and he found his voice, his howls of anguish echoing around the empty space.
Darkness… so beautiful, so empowering, so… weak. How can it consume all, and yet waver and fade in the presence of light? What's more, how can I get out of here? Judal tried to scowl, to frown, but in the end, it was the same excruciating result. Sighing heavily with an effort that burned his lungs and made his ribs hum painfully in his chest, the dark mage fell into a fitful sleep among the cooling darkness, fluttering shards of ice stinging his face.
Judal… Judal, it is time for you to awaken…
Slowly opening his eyes, the mage realized he was on his back, arms crossed over his chest. The worst of his remaining wounds were small burns perpetually aggravated and soothed by the sharp cold beneath his bare back. I'm… healing, I suppose. Can I move?
He turned his head, lying his cheek against the ice platform, smirking triumphantly as a sick sense of pride overcame him, filling his body and mind. The next thing he knew, he'd thrown himself to his feet and was lithely circling the borders of his floating prison, forgetting the pain in his taut shoulder muscles to morbid curiosity as he stalked to the edge on all fours and lay low on his stomach, peering into the abyss below.
With a playful grin that only crept up one side of his face, he swung an arm through the air below him, half expecting to scoop up a handful of darkness like sand or water. Instead, a tiny thunderstorm raged, sparks of purple lightning shocking him, coursing through his forearm and raising all the fine hairs in a rippling wave of static. Judal shivered, feeling uneasy, stunned, and insanely infantile; he didn't like it one bit.
"Lightning…" the voice he heard was his but not his own. How long have I been here? Clearing his throat, the dark mage once again attempted his incantation.
"Lightning, once and would be mine, return unto me my power." He flexed his palm towards it, earning another painful zap and he flinched, mentally cursing himself. "Grant me the means to remove myself from this prison of my own design. Lend me strength to aid in the achievement of my former greatness.
Return yourself to my control. Lightning, I command you!" When nothing continued to happen, he let his head droop, closing his eyes as a surge of despairing emotions that he wished he didn't possess – that he'd forgotten he had, buried deep within him – threatened to swamp his senses. Releasing the tension in his outstretched arm that, too, went slack, swaying through the storm of its own accord. Desperate now, he kept his eyes shut, squeezing them tighter as he fought the sense of failure that had suddenly welled up and threatened to overpower him.
"Please…"