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fandomweekly2025-07-05 12:35 pm
badly_knitted) wrote in fandomweekly2025-07-05 12:35 pm
Entry tags:
[#265] Trickery And Ancient Magic (The Fantastic Journey)
Theme Prompt: #265 – Trickster
Title: Trickery And Ancient Magic
Fandom: The Fantastic Journey
Rating/Warnings: PG
Bonus: No.
Word Count: 999
Summary: The travellers would have been better off if they’d listened to Willaway and avoided the carnival.
In retrospect, they all should have listened to Jonathan’s misgivings about the place, but Scott had been so excited at seeing the carnival, such an anachronism on the island, and Varian himself had been… curious, having never seen one except in history books. The compromise he’d suggested, to take a closer look on their way through the zone, had seemed safe enough. The carnival had appeared deserted, the rides unmoving, abandoned metal skeletons against the sky…
Only, it hadn’t been as deserted as it had first appeared, and that first meeting with the man calling himself Marcus Apollonius should have alerted Varian to things not being quite as they seemed. To a certain extent, it had; the man had known too much about them, who they were, the times they were from, and they weren’t just educated guesses, they were entirely, uncomfortably, accurate.
Still, Varian had allowed Scott’s eager enthusiasm to override his own common sense and Jonathan’s ever-present unease. The carnival barker had tempted them with answers to their questions, and there hadn’t seemed to be any harm in entering the funhouse. Some of it had even been enjoyable, right at the start; the slide had been a new and entertaining experience, but the mirror maze had not. Something had been lurking there, a shadowy presence that had made Varian wary, as he perhaps should have been all along.
It had been one trick after another, almost since they’d first set foot in the carnival, everything designed to draw them in, trap them in a place where no escape seemed possible, and separate them, using Scott as bait, so the rest of them would have to search for the boy.
Apollonius of Tyana, hiding in plain sight. Not the great magician’s distant ancestor, but the man himself, trapped on the island, in that zone, for millennia. He couldn’t leave. Unlike Varian and his travelling companions, he couldn’t move from zone to zone, seeking Evoland and the portal that could return him to his own time, but he desperately wanted to. He was willing to do anything to escape his exile, and having increased his powers over the centuries, he believed he could do it, believed he could take someone else’s body to house him as he made his escape. He’d almost succeeded.
But he’d underestimated the rest of them, thought he could fool them easily, taking over Jonathan’s body, pretending to be the man they’d become accustomed to travelling with; to Varian’s senses, something had been… off. Nothing he could have put into words, but something about Jonathan had felt wrong. Perhaps Varian should have figured it out sooner, he wasn’t as focused as he might have been, part of his mind still dwelling on Gwenith’s death, but still, he’d kept pushing, questioning, until Apollonius, becoming frustrated, had given himself away. The magician had pushed back, striking out with his powers, driving Varian back with a wall of flame, tossing him aside as if he weighed nothing, then making his escape, back into the funhouse.
Perhaps Apollonius had believed he didn’t need the rest of them, that he could send them away and make the journey by himself, but Jonathan was one of them, and Varian had no intention of leaving a friend behind. Just because he was a pacifist, opposed to physical violence, didn’t mean he couldn’t still fight, when necessary, to save a friend’s life. He simply did so using the power of his mind rather than his fists.
What Apollonius had done to Jonathan, taking control of his body and mind, was perhaps the worst crime someone in Varian’s own time could commit, and he was not going to let that stand. Besides, his own mental powers were at least the equal of Apollonius’. He would drive the magician out of Jonathan, whatever it took. He had no intention of losing someone else he cared about!
And still the tricks continued, Apollonius and his cohorts using their knowledge of the funhouse to send them around in circles, searching the magician out, tracking him to his lair, the place of his greatest power.
There followed a battle of minds, and of wills. Varian was thankful that Jonathan was smaller, slighter, not a fighter himself. It made him easier to pin down, to restrain, even as Apollonius conjured visions of Gwenith, dying in the flames, calling out to Varian to save her. It was difficult, near impossible, for him to ignore those images, her pleas for help, striking as they did right to the raw grief he tried to keep hidden from his friends, but he couldn’t let himself be distracted, not when he could feel Jonathan slipping away. As much as Varian and his travelling companions might want to know the secret of Evoland, a man’s life was too high a price to pay.
Good did not inevitably win out over evil, especially not in a place like this. But this time evil, finding itself caught between Varian’s implacable determination to save a friend and Jonathan’s desperate desire to live, could only surrender, and Apollonius was forced out. A few more minutes, and Varian might well have reached the limits of his strength; as it was, he felt drained. But Jonathan was alive, already complaining, and Apollonius had lost his chance at escape.
All any of the travellers wanted now was to put as much distance between themselves and the carnival as they could, preferable by passing through into the next zone before they found somewhere to camp for the night.
Varian made a mental note to pay better attention the next time Jonathan voiced his misgivings. Willaway might be a pessimist, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was always wrong, just as Varian’s own innate optimism didn’t mean he was always right. Maybe in time they’d find a workable balance between the two of them, Fred’s impulsive nature, Scott’s youthful enthusiasm, and Liana’s all-encompassing compassion for all living things. It was something to work towards.
The End
Only, it hadn’t been as deserted as it had first appeared, and that first meeting with the man calling himself Marcus Apollonius should have alerted Varian to things not being quite as they seemed. To a certain extent, it had; the man had known too much about them, who they were, the times they were from, and they weren’t just educated guesses, they were entirely, uncomfortably, accurate.
Still, Varian had allowed Scott’s eager enthusiasm to override his own common sense and Jonathan’s ever-present unease. The carnival barker had tempted them with answers to their questions, and there hadn’t seemed to be any harm in entering the funhouse. Some of it had even been enjoyable, right at the start; the slide had been a new and entertaining experience, but the mirror maze had not. Something had been lurking there, a shadowy presence that had made Varian wary, as he perhaps should have been all along.
It had been one trick after another, almost since they’d first set foot in the carnival, everything designed to draw them in, trap them in a place where no escape seemed possible, and separate them, using Scott as bait, so the rest of them would have to search for the boy.
Apollonius of Tyana, hiding in plain sight. Not the great magician’s distant ancestor, but the man himself, trapped on the island, in that zone, for millennia. He couldn’t leave. Unlike Varian and his travelling companions, he couldn’t move from zone to zone, seeking Evoland and the portal that could return him to his own time, but he desperately wanted to. He was willing to do anything to escape his exile, and having increased his powers over the centuries, he believed he could do it, believed he could take someone else’s body to house him as he made his escape. He’d almost succeeded.
But he’d underestimated the rest of them, thought he could fool them easily, taking over Jonathan’s body, pretending to be the man they’d become accustomed to travelling with; to Varian’s senses, something had been… off. Nothing he could have put into words, but something about Jonathan had felt wrong. Perhaps Varian should have figured it out sooner, he wasn’t as focused as he might have been, part of his mind still dwelling on Gwenith’s death, but still, he’d kept pushing, questioning, until Apollonius, becoming frustrated, had given himself away. The magician had pushed back, striking out with his powers, driving Varian back with a wall of flame, tossing him aside as if he weighed nothing, then making his escape, back into the funhouse.
Perhaps Apollonius had believed he didn’t need the rest of them, that he could send them away and make the journey by himself, but Jonathan was one of them, and Varian had no intention of leaving a friend behind. Just because he was a pacifist, opposed to physical violence, didn’t mean he couldn’t still fight, when necessary, to save a friend’s life. He simply did so using the power of his mind rather than his fists.
What Apollonius had done to Jonathan, taking control of his body and mind, was perhaps the worst crime someone in Varian’s own time could commit, and he was not going to let that stand. Besides, his own mental powers were at least the equal of Apollonius’. He would drive the magician out of Jonathan, whatever it took. He had no intention of losing someone else he cared about!
And still the tricks continued, Apollonius and his cohorts using their knowledge of the funhouse to send them around in circles, searching the magician out, tracking him to his lair, the place of his greatest power.
There followed a battle of minds, and of wills. Varian was thankful that Jonathan was smaller, slighter, not a fighter himself. It made him easier to pin down, to restrain, even as Apollonius conjured visions of Gwenith, dying in the flames, calling out to Varian to save her. It was difficult, near impossible, for him to ignore those images, her pleas for help, striking as they did right to the raw grief he tried to keep hidden from his friends, but he couldn’t let himself be distracted, not when he could feel Jonathan slipping away. As much as Varian and his travelling companions might want to know the secret of Evoland, a man’s life was too high a price to pay.
Good did not inevitably win out over evil, especially not in a place like this. But this time evil, finding itself caught between Varian’s implacable determination to save a friend and Jonathan’s desperate desire to live, could only surrender, and Apollonius was forced out. A few more minutes, and Varian might well have reached the limits of his strength; as it was, he felt drained. But Jonathan was alive, already complaining, and Apollonius had lost his chance at escape.
All any of the travellers wanted now was to put as much distance between themselves and the carnival as they could, preferable by passing through into the next zone before they found somewhere to camp for the night.
Varian made a mental note to pay better attention the next time Jonathan voiced his misgivings. Willaway might be a pessimist, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was always wrong, just as Varian’s own innate optimism didn’t mean he was always right. Maybe in time they’d find a workable balance between the two of them, Fred’s impulsive nature, Scott’s youthful enthusiasm, and Liana’s all-encompassing compassion for all living things. It was something to work towards.
The End
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Sorry for the long ramble, I am just addicted to the show again.