Don: This miniseries owes its existence to my friend and co-author, Nox Barian. If you are not familiar with his work, don't worry, you soon will be, as this story serves as a prequel for an upcoming story he will be writing.
Nox: Noooooooo, this miniseries owes it's existence to MY friend and co-author, DonJusticia. If you are not familiar with his work, he's written quite a few gems! Yeah, that's right! I'm going to be the most humble writer here!
Don: NO I'M THE HUMBLER WRITER! In fact, I'M THE MOST HUMBLE WRITER IN THE WHOLE WORLD!
Ahem…
An earlier version of the story, "Ice Queen Cometh" can be found on his page in . It's quite well written, but the both of us, after gaining a bit more writing experience, wanted to redraft our respective stories after dropping them on . He PMed me one day, announcing his intention to rework his Yu-Gi-Oh Zexal fanfic, and that led to me thinking about one of my disappointments in the Zexal anime.
Nox: Speaking of great stories being rewritten! Go check out Don's redrafted story of his Yu-Gi-Oh ARC V fic, Signs of Renewal on AO3! It's really good, and totally not a disappointment, unlike the subject below!
That disappointment is Don Thousand, or rather, how this character was handled. Certainly, there is a lot of potential with having a powerful, godlike antagonist for the protagonist to struggle against, but raw power alone rarely makes a good antagonist. Don Thousand, unfortunately, had very little character, history, and motivation beyond, "I'm evil."
A Good Writer gets rid of things that don't work, but a Great Writer figures out how to make them work, and so, we asked ourselves, "How does one make a boring character like that interesting?"
The result is this.
Enjoy!
Chapter 1: Death in Paradise
Zophar, Rank One Prince of the Astral World, witnessed the death of an immortal.
The low-ranking prince held the astral child's hand and watched as his screams of pain faded with the dimming light of the little one's once radiant body. In moments, the light was gone. A dull husk remained of the once great spirit, only for the remains to quickly crumble into ash-like dust. Around Zophar, the astral's parents began to weep.
Zophar opened his mouth to speak, wanting to offer comfort to the mourners, but no words came. What could he say? That his spirit would find peace in the next world? This, the Astral World, was the greatest world, the pinnacle of existence, the place where every soul could reach its highest potential.
Or at least…it was supposed to be.
Zophar quietly exited the glowing dwelling place of the mourners and entered the luminous roads of the Astral World. The crystalline realm shone with pristine beauty and symmetry as it had always done, with even the lowest tier in which Zophar dwelt magnificent enough to delight even the most refined tastes of any earthly emperor. No mortal eye could detect any flaws in this immaculate realm. In every sense, the Astral World was the sole place where perfection existed.
So why then did the suffering continue?
The home Zophar visited was not the only one stained with death. Every passing cycle, dozens more Astrals fell victim to the same affliction which claimed the life of that poor soul. Their luminous bodies would dim and crack, and their screams would fill the air until all that was left of them was ash and sorrow for those who could do nothing but carry on. Zophar's heart ached with each victim and their loved ones, the prince taking it upon himself to personally visit as many victims as he could. Time and time again he spoke with them, held their hand, tried to comfort them-
…and watched them die.
Again and again, they suffered, they dimmed, and they died. In spite of his position in the Astral World, in spite of all his power and knowledge, he could never make it stop.
He looked up towards the higher tiers of the Astral World, up to the very top, where the noblest of them dwelt.
The time had come to turn to someone greater than himself.
…
In spite of being a prince, Zophar was still only a rank one Astral. His status as a leader permitted him to visit the higher tiers of the Astral World whenever he wished, but it did not prepare his physical body, which had failed to rank up for many ages. Even now, as he ascended the steps to just the second tier, he felt a strain on his muscles, as if gravity increased the higher up he went. Higher ranking Astrals who were used to living in that environment turned to stare at the Astral struggling up the steps. Many of them turned aside just as quickly. Zophar was not surprised. He did not look very handsome to most of the Astrals. His frame was scrawny instead of thickly muscled and he possessed neither magnificent garments nor a brilliant bioluminescent glow to cover it up. Still, he bore himself the best he could, ignoring their stares as he ascended into the next tier up.
Up on the third tier, the strain on Zophar's body increased, the rank one prince finding it hard to even breathe the purified air of this level. As before, the higher Astrals looked on Zophar's frail rank one body with a mixture of curiosity and distaste. Yet again, Zophar continued onwards, knowing he had ten more tiers to climb after this one.
Four, Five, Six, Seven. Upon reaching the eighth tier, Zophar leaned against a glittering golden rail to catch his breath, but the air in the glorified tier burned his relatively impure lungs, so he found himself first sucking in a breath to hold in his cheeks until it cooled before opening his throat and letting the air inflate his lungs.
"Are you…lost?"
Zophar looked up, exhaling, as a thickly muscled Astral soldier with wings approached him, the angelic being's gold and white armor glowing like a star.
"No, thank you," Zophar panted, trying his best not to make a scene. "Just resting, that's all."
"And what brings a rank one such as yourself to the eighth tier of Astral?" the soldier questioned.
There it was. The question. Well, perhaps there was no way of avoiding it. Just by ascending the tiers, Zophar had placed himself firmly in the public's eye. And in this case, perhaps it might be good to gain a larger audience. More eyes might mean more Astrals taking notice of the plight of his tier.
"I have business…with Eliphas…on the thirteenth tier," Zophar panted.
There were gasps of astonishment from the onlookers. The soldier furrowed his brow, considering.
"You will not make it up there," the soldier replied. "You need to rank yourself up to at least the fourth tier before you can even attempt such a thing."
"I am… a prince ... and Eliphas… is my brother," Zophar panted. "I will not be denied."
"This is not about permission," the soldier replied, shaking his head. "I'm saying you physically cannot make it. Look at you. You're barely holding your body together in this tier. How will you manage to even stay conscious five tiers higher? I am of the fourth rank and even I face difficulty performing my duties in this tier, much less making visits to the thirteenth.
"I will manage," Zophar replied. "Please. This is important."
"Important or not, I am telling you, you will not make it," the soldier sighed. "Please, for your own sake, return to your tier and work on ranking up. I'm sure someone as persistent as you could eventually succeed in the metamorphosis. You'll become Rank Two in no time, and it won't be long after that before you even match my rank."
Unlikely. Zophar had been stuck in the first rank for so long, he'd lost track of the time. And even if he managed to rank up…
"My message cannot wait," Zophar replied before sucking more of the oppressively hot air into his cheeks.
"If such is the case, I can deliver your message," the soldier offered.
Yes, to a bureaucrat who would take that message and file it away to be read much later, if at all. No, if this was to have any impact, he would need to speak with Eliphas face-to-face.
"If I continue climbing," Zophar asked, "will you stop me?"
"Well…no…but-" the soldier stammered.
"Thank you," Zophar quickly replied. "Then I will continue on my errand."
He forced himself to stand straight before taking a quivering step forward, jaw clenched as he forced more of the burning air through his nostrils.
"Numeron Dragon…" the soldier muttered to himself, "WAIT!"
"I have no time to wait," Zophar gasped, not wanting to lose his forward momentum.
"Let me, at least, fly you to your destination," the soldier sighed. "If you are so desperate to secure an audience with Eliphas, then don't break your body before you can even speak with him."
Zophar paused, not expecting this answer.
"That is…kind," he replied. "I think…yes…I would appreciate that very much. Though…up in the higher tiers, wouldn't I be too heavy for you to carry even with your wings?"
"Unfortunately, yes," the Astral soldier replied, flexing his angelic wings. "But I have a companion who can help us make the journey. I will call him now. Wait here."
The Astral soldier raised his fingers to his lips before whistling loudly. In the distance, Zophar heard a rush of wind before an immense Astral dragon with a white body and golden wings descended from the sky and landed nearby. Zophar squinted against the light of the dragon, recognizing the creature as a powerful rank ten being. Most of the other Astrals on the eighth tier scattered at the appearance of the magnificent creature, though the dragon only regarded them with passing interest. Calmly, the soldier approached the dragon, speaking to it. The dragon snorted once before lowering its body, allowing for easy mounting. Zophar was amazed. Dragons were marvelous creatures, and a rare sight in the lower ranks. In fact, the lowest ranked dragon he recalled seeing was a single aggressive variant in the third tier. Rare would a dragon of Astral allow a rider, and rarer still would they allow someone with a striking difference in ranks. Taking Zophar by the hand, the soldier led the rank one prince up the dragon's back before holding tight to the prince as he patted the dragon's back. In reply, the dragon spread its wings before taking off into the air with tremendous power. As they ascended, rapidly, Zophar felt the pressure on his body increase, as if someone were rapidly pouring cement on his skin. Struggling to stay awake, he decided to make small talk with the generous soldier.
"So what is…your name?" he asked.
"I am called Vytas," the soldier replied.
"Were you born here, or were you reincarnated into the Astral World?" Zophar continued.
"I had a life on Earth before I was reincarnated here," Vytas replied. "Most of that life, I can't remember, but occasionally I have dreams. Much of what I see is difficult to understand, but I believe I used to be a ruler of some kind in my old life, perhaps a King or an Emperor."
"An emperor," Zophar mused, "interesting. Did you have a dragon in your past life? This dragon? Is this why a Rank Ten would allow a Rank Four to ride him?"
"Erewhon lets nobody own him," Vytas replied, fondly rubbing one of the dragon's scales. "I don't remember if I knew him in a past life, but he has always allowed me to approach him, in spite of our rank differences."
"He must see something remarkable in you," Zophar murmured, voice beginning to strain. "As noble as you have been to me, it would not surprise me if you were of equally great character in your past life. The Astral guard must be proud to have someone like you in their ranks."
"Must they?" Vytas questioned. "I've hardly noticed. In Astral, only rank is important. I've managed the fourth tier, so I make a tolerable soldier. Nothing more. But I suppose that doesn't matter. I can climb higher in the ranks. I'm aspiring to the fifth tier right now and I hope to one day make it even higher."
"How well does your body handle the metamorphosis?" Zophar whimpered, voice barely a whisper as the heavenly air seemed to turn into a thick jelly rather than a meager gas.
"No more questions," Vytas grunted, "We're entering the twelfth tier. One more…tier…to go. I…will need to rest…after this!"
Zophar weakly reclined his head, feeling his eyelids droop. Vytas had been right. He was being carried, leaving the dragon to do all the work for him, yet even still, he felt like he was dying from exhaustion. It took everything he had just to stay awake.
An impossibly bright light prevented Zophar from nodding off to sleep as they finally landed on the thirteenth tier, the highest tier in the Astral world. Vytas heaved Zophar off the dragon, the poor soldier panting just from that bit of exertion, but he managed to set Zophar gently on the ground rather than drop him.
"Who goes there?" a feminine voice questioned before a soldier with crystal white hair and blue armor approached them, regarding the two with a stern face. Taking a quick look at her uniform, Zophar could see that she was of the sixth rank.
"Oh, it is you, Vytas," the rank six soldier sighed after examining the soldier, "What brings you all the way up to the thirteenth tier with this…?"
"Captain Zedikah," Vytas replied, managing to lift himself up to salute, "I have delivered this prince to request an audience with Eliphas."
"A rank ONE prince?" Zedikah questioned, affixing Vytas with an icy glare. "Did you not stop to consider his condition, or what might happen to you should he die under your watch?"
"Believe me," Vytas grunted, "I tried to persuade him to turn back, but it is not my place to turn aside a prince, even one of the first rank."
"Be that as it may," Zedikah sighed, "look at the poor thing. Is he even capable of holding an audience with Eliphas in his current state?"
"I…will manage…" Zophar choked.
"No you won't!" Vytas and Zedikah shouted in unison, before looking at one another.
"I had to at least bring him here," Vytas explained. "If I hadn't carried him, he would have destroyed himself. He was already in the eighth tier by the time I met him, and just about to collapse from exhaustion."
"Well hopefully he can see why we discourage rank one Astrals from visiting the thirteenth tier and go back where he belongs," Zedikah replied, folding her arms.
"Unlikely," Vytas sighed. "He's dead-set on speaking with Eliphas for whatever reason. Wouldn't even let me take a message."
"I…will not…go back…until…" Zophar gasped, unable to finish his sentence.
"See what I mean?" Vytas asked.
"Well we can't let him stay here," Zedikah protested.
"Take me…to Eliphas," Zophar demanded, losing patience as the pain increased.
"I am not some beast of burden!" Zedikah snapped. "If you can't even stand on your own two feet, don't expect me to carry you."
Zophar reached out with his arm. The mere act of lifting it felt like he was pressing against 100 lb weights. The arm fell heavily to the ground and Zophar pulled his limp body forward, cracks forming on the surface of his bicep.
"NUMERON DRAGON!" Zedikah exclaimed, scooping Zophar off the ground. "STOP! Just…stop!"
"I won't…stop…" Zophar panted. "If you…take me back…I will climb…the steps…again."
"You're mad," Zedikah sputtered, a look of horror on her face. "Prince or no, I have a duty to protect the people of Astral, even if in your case it means protecting you against yourself!"
"And what of…my people?" Zophar rasped. "Will you let more…of them die?"
"Die?" Zedikah questioned. "Have more rank ones been climbing themselves to breaking?"
"No," Zophar barely managed to reply.
Zedikah, more confused than ever, looked to Vytas for answers.
"I have heard…whispers, in the fourth tier," Vytas confirmed. "Apparently there is something of a…problem…in the first tier. Astrals who break before ranking up even once."
Zedikah stayed silent, eyes drifting to Zophar as she looked at him with concern.
"You have…your duty…I have…mine," Zophar rasped. "Please…"
Zedikah exhaled with resignation.
"Very well, I will take you to him," she replied. "But if you pass out, I must take you back."
"I understand," Zophar sighed, resisting the urge to let his relief lull him into rest. His mission was not done. The greatest battle lay ahead.
…
It had been a long time since Zophar had last spoken with his brother, Eliphas. The two had grown further and further apart in both distance and familiarity as Eliphas continued to succeed in the most noble of Astral pursuits, ranking up. Now Eliphas was the high prince of the thirteenth tier, and Zophar could barely recognize him.
A god loomed over him now, his visage like the surface of the sun in midday. Zophar had to avert his gaze from the sheer brilliance, but there was nowhere in the great palace that was any dimmer. The oppressive atmosphere of the thirteenth tier pressed against his body even heavier, Zophar not only feeling exhaustion, but shame in the presence of this superior being. What right had he to stain the glory of this holy place with his filthy existence? How had he ever mustered the gall to even think of coming here without even making an attempt to rank up?
Zophar mentally shook himself. No, he had tried to rank up many times, but every attempt ended in a bitter failure. He had not been presumptuous in his decision to make this visit. He had no other choice. His guilt was merely an effect of the tier's inherent perfection, causing anything lesser to see its own imperfection with stark clarity, like a black stain on white silk. But as imperfect as he was, Zophar knew his cause and it was noble. He would not abdicate his responsibility to his people for the sake of either Eliphas's dignity, or his own.
Zedikah held Zophar up while Vytas discreetly fetched an ornate chair, which would have made any earthly king faint from astonishment, for him to sit upon. As supremely comfortable as the chair was built, Zophar could not help but feel like he was smearing the seat with muck as he touched it with his feeble body.
"This is an odd visit and a distasteful one at that," Eliphas intoned, voice reverberating with perfect pitch and harmony. "Though it is the right of every Astral to traverse any part of the Astral World as they wish, it is customary for each Astral citizen to seek one's personal betterment before traveling to higher realms, lest their very being be consumed by glories for which they remain unprepared. Tell me, Zophar, what reason, or more likely, madness, has caused you to blatantly disregard our ways?"
Zophar swallowed before forcing himself to squint and stare into his brother's face. The light burned his eyes, but he refused to turn away.
"Brother," Zophar rasped, ashamed at how weak and unclean his voice sounded, "I come requesting your aid."
"Aid?" Eliphas questioned. "What aid could a rank one prince of the lowest tier require from the thirteenth? Is the second tier not closer?"
The barbed rebuke stung Zophar, but he knew not to be shaken. This was not a matter that could be settled by a lower tier.
"Only you, brother, can help us," panted Zophar, struggling to breathe. "You alone have the power, knowledge, resources, and authority. I have reached out to the other princes already. Not even the rulers of the second tier will give us aid. To them, the first tier is a hell they've just managed to escape. They have no desire to turn back and give succor to their fellow Astrals."
"And what is this crisis that has driven you to such desperation?" Eliphas demanded.
"A…sickness, has taken hold of many of my people," Zophar rasped. "Every cycle, more and more citizens of the first tier suffer pain in body and mind until both fail and they die. I have no power to help them, nor the means to effectively study the problem. I ask for your aid in this, if not to cure my people, then to at least grant me access to the high archives of the Astral World under your jurisdiction, that…I…might…research…a…cure."
Zophar's voice degenerated into a hoarse rattle near the end before he practically exploded into a painful fit of violent coughing. He would have fallen out of the chair, were it not for Zedikah and Vytas moving to prop his body back up.
Eliphas regarded Zophar with a somewhat softened expression, but when he spoke, it was with the stoic formality of the god he had become.
"I am familiar with this thing you have spoken of," Eliphas intoned. "It is not a sickness as you have previously thought, but a…weakness. It is the privilege and duty of every Astral citizen to seek their own personal progression by ranking up to higher degrees of perfection. Many progress while others…do not."
Zophar tried to speak, to protest that IF Eliphas had known all along then WHY hadn't he helped them, but his voice came out as a ragged squeak. Acting quickly, Zedikah handed Zophar a pristine tablet and stencil for him to write with. Working slowly but carefully, Zophar instead composed a simple message.
Will you help us?
Eliphas sighed before slowly shaking his head.
"Ranking up is a personal matter. No Astral can perform this work for another, any more than a mortal creature from Earth can grow for another. I am sorry, Zophar, but there is nothing to be done. The Astrals of the first tier must work out their own progression and ascend into higher tiers, or there is no place for them in Astral."
Zophar grit his teeth. He wanted to write more, to protest more strongly, but the pain was just too much. The tablet slipped from his aching hands before falling to the floor with a clatter.
"I suggest you concern yourself with your own progression," Eliphas intoned. "It would bring me much joy to have you here by my side, sharing in my glory rather than burning in my presence. As it stands, for your own sake, I must ask your escorts to return you to your tier."
He turned from Zophar, hands clutched behind his back. Without a word, Vytas and Zedikah lifted Zophar from the chair before rushing him out of the palace and off the thirteenth tier as fast as they could. Zophar stayed awake for only a few more moments before passing out.
He had failed
AAAAAAAND SCENE!
Ending A/N: Thanks goes to EpsilonTarantula for helping greatly with Zexal lore…such as it is. On that topic, there are a few things which are important to cover.
Canon Zexal, unfortunately, would often leave us with either no answers or vague and even contradictory answers in regard to certain world-building questions. This is not unique for Yu-Gi-Oh as a series at large…but it gets very annoying for anyone seriously trying to engage with the story, much less write something based on such stories.
Therefore, expect certain liberties with the lore to be taken. It almost feels like it need not be said, given this is fanfiction, but I think it's only fair to give you all a sense of the scale of departure from canon lore for this series, so you can all go in with the appropriate expectations.
The series this is connected with, "Ice Queen Cometh" is a rewrite of Zexal, which alters some aspects of past events. Most of the canon cast of characters will have their personalities and histories more or less the same, but there will be some exceptions to this, and Cathy will be the most important character, without flaw or weakness to mar her perfection and full galleries of magnificent fanart with which to commemorate her undisputed place as best character forever and ever and always don't me.
Nox: Don't listen to Don! He doesn't know what he's talking about! Hashtag Rio Best Girl! Hashtag Anna Second Best Girl! I refuse to believe the Ice Queen or little miss pain train would ever come in second to a girl who uses a litter box. Yeah, I said it, Don! FIGHT ME!
Don: This means WAR!
Ahem…
As for this specific story, expect lots of fan liberties to be taken with the Astral and Barian worlds, the history of the numbers, the nature of Astral, and the origin of Don Thousand. As stated before, Zexal canon left a lot of these topics quite vague, so this story is pretty much telling the whole story itself. Naturally, not everyone will like some of the fan answers to these questions, but I hope the story, at least, holds up in terms of its internal consistency and becomes an enjoyable one for you, my dear readers. As a prequel, I intend for this series to be relatively short (hopefully 12 or fewer chapters) but of course, plans can change. Hopefully you all enjoy the ride. Thank you for your support.
And now, let's get some comment engagement with the following Questions of the Chapter:
Question 1: In addition to Zophar, we get to meet two other characters, Vytas and Zedakah. Do you recognize who the latter two are? If so, WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON!?
Question 2: What do you think of the depiction of Zophar and the Astral world? You likey? Dislikey? Offended to your core?
We look forward to reading your responses. Stay tuned for the next chapter.
This is NOX and DON signing out!