Heart thumping with irrepressible force, Zeref waited with baited breath as Mavis became fully visible.
"A projection?" he asked when he was able to see her in all her resplendent fairylike glory, wearing her trademark frilly pink dress and a bright expression that almost made him certain he would encounter solid flesh if he reached out to touch her.
'Yes, it's called a Thought Projection. I fused it with my spirit and that way I'm able to use magic—well, somewhat—which is something I wouldn't be able to do with a mere Illusion.'
"Your magic power has grown stronger, but you're still using Telepathy because it burns less than speaking through your Projection," Zeref observed, impressed and a little proud of her accomplishments. Thought Projections normally took a wizard years to master, let alone project with limited access to magic power. Although her lips were moving in sync with the words she was speaking, he was still hearing them inside his head rather than externally.
'Yup,' she replied cheerfully, and the two stood observing each other for a moment. Onyx black eyes met emerald green, then Mavis broke into a little dance, twirling around and giggling before stopping to examine her hands and feet with keen interest. 'Strange as it sounds, I'd grown used to not having a body.'
Zeref was still watching her when she looked up and caught him staring, lips parted. Skipping over to him on impulse, she launched herself at his chest to throw her arms around his neck and succeeded, but was disappointed when they passed through his body and her attempt at a hug was thwarted.
'Huh. It's a bit weird, like being inside of one my Illusions,' she mused. 'I passed right through you.'
"Nevertheless, I appreciate the effort," Zeref said, regaining his wits and smiling faintly at her antics as she tried to clap her hands together and pouted. "Come, it's about time we got moving. We can cover more ground while we have daylight."
'Of course,' Mavis agreed, falling into step beside him. Looking down at her, he was reminded of the first time he saw her, over a decade ago. How far she had come since then, but she was still essentially the same, if not a little more grim from her experiences. He would've spared her the pain and suffering she had doubtless experienced if he could, but it seemed she had redeemed her innocence regardless. Those eyes that used to be gaunt and shadowlike were now bright and full of life once more, reflecting her newfound hope for the future.
Her lips were perfect, and he couldn't help remembering how it had felt to kiss them. At the time he'd been so overwhelmed with emotion that he hadn't enjoyed it properly. Admiring the expressions that crossed her face as they walked, he forced his gaze from her before he was caught staring again.
'Zeref, about your empire,' she began, bringing up one of her favorite topics.
"Yes?" he answered.
'What are the Etherious?'
"They are demons I've created using Living magic, in an effort to end my life."
'So they want to kill you?' Mavis asked with a gasp, her eyes widening incrementally in alarm.
Slightly surprised and warmed by her apparent care for his life, Zeref answered, "Not at present, no. They worship me. However, they would attack if I gave the signal, as they have in the past. Because none of them have been successful, I use the Etherious I still keep track of as tools to carry out my bidding." He paused. "They've caused many deaths in the past. That was not usually my intention. I wrote violence into their books, neglecting to take into mind the potential consequences in my lust for death."
'I see,' she said slowly.
"I have the resources to take care of you, Mavis. I will wake you, I simply hope it can be done before the baby's birth."
'Because if we fail, then we may never speak again.' She gave voice to the dreadful reality.
They were both silent as the implications of that statement sunk in.
"I won't fail," Zeref swore in a stronger voice. "You will awaken, and we will raise our child together."
Mavis had never heard him sound so determined before. Looking at the side profile of his face as he frowned slightly, she marvelled at the changes in him.
'Yes,' she agreed, the word an echoing of his resolve.
Raising a hand to his forehead, he massaged it as though he could rub away the pain in his skull. It was a gesture she had seen more than once, and she broached the topic to him. 'Does it hurt?'
His hand froze, and he lowered it back to his side as they walked. "It's nothing to concern yourself over. But thank you for asking."
She wished she could relieve the headache, which was likely the product of stress and thus the reason his supernatural healing abilities hadn't soothed it. Thinking in contradictory terms must exacerbate his affliction.
"Mavis, I was thinking about your magic power. A Thought Projection uses more of it than Telepathy. Will you run out?" he asked.
'I don't think so. It's grown stronger, and I wouldn't have created this form if I thought I couldn't maintain it,' she answered reassuringly.
Looking up to locate the placement of the sun, Zeref stayed on course as they walked on.
'I must say, your navigational abilities are incredible,' Mavis complimented brightly.
"Thank you," he answered modestly, and she was the focus of his gaze for a few seconds.
Lips parting as she stared into his eyes, she blushed slightly and darted her gaze off to the side.
"I've been traveling for centuries," he said, by way of explanation. "When I wasn't resting or researching, I was wandering the wilds. I suppose my travels are paying off."
...
As time went by, Mavis gradually grew accustomed to her immaterial body. After a few weeks spent mostly in worry over methods of revival, one day the couple stopped for the evening to settle down.
The past month had been a change of pace from what they were used to, with her ethereal form walking alongside Zeref, but he'd been too lost in the fears of his own mind to enjoy it as he should have. Her projection didn't fade into the shadows as the sun sank; instead, it shone with a gentle glow that allowed him to see her even in the dark. A beacon of hope just for him. He'd never felt alone since that day he'd found her in the forest, utterly abandoned and desperately depressed, her outward appearance mimicking his inward struggle.
Sitting cross-legged on the forest floor, he inhaled the musky scents of the forest and watched the dying orange-and-pink glow slowly fade from the western sky. The sun had been an invaluable compass to him, guiding him through the periods between the overcast days and ensuring he remained on course. Knowing the land fairly well helped, of course, but it'd been several years since he'd last passed through this area and it was good to have solid guidance.
Mavis was quiet beside him, appreciating the beauty of the sunset's last rays. Looking down at her small face, he was reminded of how they had sat like this a decade ago, discussing magic on a lazy August afternoon.
Her projection wasn't rounded with his child, and he was reminded to look down at the body in his lap to appreciate the sight of her growing stomach. He didn't know why he was drawn to her in this state, and as a whole. Steadily he fought off the opposing thoughts that flooded his being at any feeling of affection or trust. He wanted to break the curse and be with her. He certainly did not want to die, yet he found himself wishing for death and annihilation. Or perhaps he did wish to die and was merely telling himself the opposite as a subconscious means of confusing his curse, and in reality he was pretending to pretend that he didn't want to die in order for-
Trying to break his erratic train of thought, he focused on Mavis's beauty instead, resting his hand on the firm curve of her stomach and forgetting that she was watching his every move. In order to save her he would have to forget the value of her life. If he loved her, her would lose her. If he hated her, he would lose her. But at least she would still be alive, after he revived her. Or did he even want her to wake up? Ignoring the pain in his head, he muttered, "Stop. I know what I want, and you can't take it from me... I'll protect her, from myself if I have to..."
Suddenly his chest tightened and he needed air, his lungs rapidly struggling to draw shallow breaths of oxygen though it wasn't necessary for cellular respiration. His heartrate sped up as the fear of losing her caught up to him in a rush, and beads of sweat formed on his brow as his chest ached. The void stretched before him, centuries of darkness and sin whispering mockingly. How had he kept up the façade for so long? He was no savior, after all it was he who'd put the only person close to him in a coma in the first place. Who'd murdered countless innocents in his selfish bid for death...
Head bowed and eyes tightly shut as his hands came to his temples, Zeref didn't hear Mavis's familiar voice through his hyperventilation until the pitch of it was higher than the agonizing stream of thoughts in his head.
'Zeref!' It cut through his fears like a knife through butter, reaching the receptive part of him that loved her more than himself. 'Don't be afraid. It's the curse tricking you into believing you won't save me. The contradictions in your head are painful, I know, but they'll pass. Just focus on my voice...'
As she talked him through it, a gasping sob escaped his throat, and he clutched her form tighter to his chest as he allowed the voice of reason to wash over the illogical dilemma of his motives. The round firmness of her belly insistently pressed into Zeref's own stomach, a reminder of his fear and love, but he paid it no heed in order to bury his wet face in her hair and breathe in the familiar, soothing scent.
Mavis wrapped her ethereal arms around his hunched shoulders, murmering endearments to him and wishing she was awake to hug him properly. He could at least sense her presence, and her voice was useful as well, she reasoned. Few in Ishgar would recognize the infamous Black Mage right now, not that they had a decent idea of his appearance. His dark magical aura surged and whirled about them, a sharp contrast to his broken posture as he hugged her seemingly lifeless body. Not lifeless, she corrected herself, because even to a stray observer there would be no mistaking the obvious life within her.
She wondered how a person could be so broken and yet powerful, apparently alive yet dead inside. He was an enigma. Perhaps the secret to breaking his curse lay in his emotional death—death, breaking the curse...suddenly excited, Mavis froze as an idea came to her, flitting around the edges of her consciousness like an illusory butterfly, barely out of reach. Seizing it triumphantly, she burst out, 'I think I just had an idea about how to revive my body!'
Sufficiently calmed enough to be coherent, Zeref lifted his head from his hands wearily. "What?" His young voice was filled with the tiredness of one who'd exhausted all known formulae and was still unable to solve a problem.
Forgetting to withdraw from her embrace of his shoulders, she went on excitedly, 'It just came to me, but I'll try to explain it. When I fell into a coma, my consciousness was separated from my body. Hence the reason we're able to communicate. It's a wild theory—but ever since I formed this Projection, it's been lurking at the back of my head.'
Eyes wide now, Zeref followed her train of thought, reaching the conclusion he feared she was leading up to before she could voice it.
Lips unmoving as she spoke telepathically, she rushed on, 'If we were able to destroy my Thought Projection, then my consciousness could possibly be forced back inside my body, breaking the coma and reviving me! If only I'd seen it before, but I think-'
"Mavis," Zeref interrupted, his stoic voice betraying little of the calamity within. "If your theory were true, what method of magic do you possess that could destroy a Thought Projection? It's a delicate matter and exceedingly difficult to succeed, if I remember my studies of the magic form correctly."
'That's the part I was getting to. Remember the Law spell you taught me all those years ago? While I was remodeling it to remove its side effects I discovered two more forms of it I could make, stemming from Primordial magic. I named them Fairy Sphere and Fairy Glitter, and along with Fairy Law they form three of my former guild's Grand Magic Spells.'
"I must say I'm impressed with your work on Law," he commented, the inventor within interested that she'd found a solution to the consequences of such a spell. He'd never bothered with it. "But go on."
'I think we could use Fairy Glitter to destroy my Projection.'
"A caster-type magic? How would it be able to damage it when it can't connect with substance?"
'My theory would only prove correct if damage can be received by my ethereal form, my spirit as well as Projection—the two are fused, so one cannot be damaged without the other taking a hit also.'
"How would that not prove dangerous for your spirit? Unless it would only serve to force it back into your body-"
'-which I think it would,' Mavis assured. 'It's an outlandish hypothesis, but we'll never know until we try it. I say the risks are worth the reward.'
"Not if the risk is your eternal slumber," Zeref intoned quietly. "We'll find another way."
'Zeref, in under three months my consciousness will be gone indefinitely, if we don't do something.' Mavis tried to be reasonable. 'Either way I'll be lost to you. This may be our only hope.'
"It may not work," he said kindly, too kindly, and she tried not to wince at the raw note underneath his tired exterior.
'Nonetheless, it's worth a try.'
"Very well," he said reluctantly, "Tell me more about this spell."
'It concentrates and combines the light and power of the sun, the moon and the stars, and its purpose is to vanquish the existence of foes. It's stronger than even Fairy Law, so I have faith in its abilities.'
"Foes?"
'Anyone the caster temporarily targets,' she rectified.
"I assume it requires a higher amount of magic power to cast than a lower level spell," Zeref noted, pointing out her inability to cast it.
Picking up on what he meant, Mavis said, 'Of course, and because it's an offensive spell I still wouldn't be able to use it on myself, silly goose.'
"I was leading to the conclusion that I'll have to use it," he said quietly.
They were both silent for a moment.
'Yes, you would. I could teach you,' Mavis affirmed determinedly.
Two questions warred for dominance in Zeref's head, one of whether she would be hurt, and the other of what he could do with such power. Too tired to chastise himself, he asked, "You would give me such a weapon?"
'I trust you,' she said simply. 'And even if I didn't think you had far more powerful spells in your repertoire, I don't believe what people say about you. I've seen nothing in you but a desire to be kind, and I understand your conflicting thoughts as if they were my own.'
"You don't know what I'm capable of. The extremes to which my curse drove me in the past...the world has always rejected me, but only because of what I've done to it. The wrongs I've committed." Struggling to find the correct words, the usually articulate mage fell silent.
'I've committed crimes as well,' Mavis said gently, as though to remind him of a usual oversight.
"Not like me," he insisted in a voice that was nearly a whisper. "All your sins were involuntary. Many of mine were not. But the worst part is that I want to do it again, and again. I love violence as much as I hate it."
'That is the curse's lie. You're a good man, Zeref. I know you are!'
It was dark, but he looked up to search the eyes of her Projection and smiled sadly into their bright depths. She was too innocent to conceive of guilt in someone else. She didn't know the lengths to which he would go to find peace, the crimes that he had committed and was afraid of repeating. Feeling a familiar pain beginning to press into his temples as the troubled thoughts rushed through his mind like a river that corroded the shore which contained it, he sighed.
Mavis looked at him, face full of compassion as she watched his inner struggle. He had hard times like these, she'd discovered. Some days he'd be as peaceful as his curse would allow him to be, while others he would replay the conflicting thoughts in his head over and over until she could see that it ached with sheer tension. It was worse when he denied the motives and wants opposing his own. He wanted to love her, and yet was pushed to hate her. But she knew his true desires, and would behave accordingly—if he ever turned to the darkness, she would perhaps be the only one who understood what he really wanted, the only one to see the pain beneath the cruelty. Her brow smoothed, the answer to her dilemma all too obvious.
Having made up her mind, she looked at his downbent head and said brightly, 'So, when do we start? You shouldn't use it until after the baby's birth, in case it doesn't work and also because my curse is practically nullified while I'm in this state and I don't want to run the risk of harming him.'
Zeref was silent as he weighed the risks. "If it's a transferable magic, then you'll need to give it to me upon our arrival in Alvarez, so it won't fade before I have the opportunity to use it," he acquiesced reluctantly, though the possibility of her death weighed heavily on his mind.
Though he was more than willing to break his self-made rule prohibiting all use of magic, his hesitance lay in the risks of using such a powerful spell on his last link to Mavis—her spirit—but if it was a means of revival then it would seem he had no choice. He'd never been stumped on a magical issue like the question of how to revive her body before, but then again perhaps he'd lost his touch. It had been an indeterminate amount of time since he'd last used and studied magical properties, after all.
The years of confusion and self-hatred had eaten at him until the decisions he made weren't really his own, sudden flashes of inspiration proving to be a regrettable impetus after the damage was done and his conscience was in shambles. There was one thing he could see through the smoke, however. One goal, and that was to have Mavis. The only one who understood and loved him, who'd shared the same trials as he had. He would do whatever was necessary.
'...I'll give it to you upon arrival then,' the subject of his thoughts was saying, sounding a bit relieved. 'And you'll test out my theory. It may be our only hope.'
"I assume it's compatible with Black magic?" Zeref asked, and her head cocked curiously.
'You use that type outside of Ankhseram's curse?'
"Yes," he answered, quietly. She wouldn't judge. "It's quite useful, and I've had a proclivity towards it since the early days of my youth."
'I'm surprised I never asked you about it before,' Mavis said, sounding a bit puzzled as she remembered the days when he had been her teacher. 'It makes sense, somehow.'
She was sitting on the ground with her feet in front of her, the way she usually sat, a no-nonsense look on her face. Zeref reached for her hand and gently brushed it; though it was immaterial, he could feel a bit of warmth from her ethereal body. She looked up at him then, her expression softening as her cheeks stayed the same pale color. He knew she'd be blushing now, if she allowed it to show on her Projection. "Don't hide it," he said, his voice almost a whisper.
Leaning forward, he closed his eyes and kissed the place her forehead would've been, savoring the warmth against his lips. When he opened them to gauge her reaction, he blinked in suprise—Mavis had lifted her face a few inches higher, and it was her lips he'd kissed. He could see that blush now, a warm glow of red spreading over her face as she held contact with his eyes for a few seconds, then glanced away shyly.
That night as Zeref held her physical body close, he sent a silent prayer to the gods above that Mavis's theory would work.
They were running out of time.
A/N: Zeref losing his regard for human life out of love for humanity is a sad contradiction, for the conclusion negates the motive. I always felt sorry for him, God only knows what goes on inside his tortured head. The reason Mavis wasn't thinking quite so contradictorily as Zeref before she fell into a coma can be explained by the amount of time she had the curse, I think. The longer one has it, the more it corrodes their sanity. And of course, now that her consciousness has been separated from her body the curse's effects are broken, except for immortality.
Thank you for the reviews! I read and appreciate all of them, of course.
