Chapter Text
The rough surface of the unnaturally grown rock scraped Aisha's hand, making her wince and almost let go, the only thing stopping her from doing so the knowledge of the deadly drop below her. The lifeless underground cavern, which should have been plunged into the most absolute darkness, glowed instead with a horrible brown light that lacked any warmth. Not exactly light, she figured. It was more of a lack of darkness.
Wound or not, the climbing girl did not let go of the handhold. Withstanding the pain, she looked for the next foothold and gently pressed it before leaning her weight on it progressively. Once she was confident it wouldn’t give, she moved on to the next handhold.
Every muscle in her body screamed in pain. Blood rushed past her ears. The world was a blur.
But she was driven by fears greater than falling, and one of them included the creatures that would rip her to shreds if they found her.
Sweat streaming down her face like a waterfall, she tried to summon any remaining magic she may have left, but none came to her. The reverse mountain made it so that she wasn't sure if the next goal was close or not, but her movements slowed more and more the more time she spent hanging like this. No equipment, no safety measures, and no certainty she'd ever make it—this was too much for an amateur climber like her.
It was around the time her limbs started going numb, and her brain considering it may be easier to just let go, that she finally clasped her hand over a flat surface. The idea of solid footing gave her one final boost of strength that was just enough to push herself over the edge, and she finally came to a stop on a… balcony?
Indeed. A rocky balcony leading into the fortress, with pillars carved out of the mountain itself sustaining the roof above… or maybe the floor below? They were wholly undecorated, in fact they weren't even polished. They were purely utilitarian. And now that Aisha thought about it, this wasn't really a balcony, but more of an observation platform.
Breathing heavily, on the verge of passing out, the girl reached for her canteen and drank the last bit of water she held there. She slumped against a pillar, her chest heaving and her knees too weak to sustain her.
Rest was all she wanted.
But then, voices reached her ears. High-pitched, nearby. Familiar.
'Just a little more. Just a little more.'
Painful step by painful step, she pushed forth into the mountain, supporting herself against the wall as her knees trembled. The tunnel was dark, darker than the deepest oceans, but she saw dim light at the end of it. She slowly stepped forward. 'Just a little more.'
Soon, the voices came into hearing range.
"… and if we manage to converge, perhaps we'd be strong enough to break through."
"No, no way! Didn't you see what happened to the others? We wouldn't make it to the hallway! I'm not going!"
"You must have missed the things that occurred to the others who stayed. If we must choose a path, I say it only makes more sense to try to leave!"
"Oh, I don't know… If only a prince would come save us…"
Aisha stumbled into the room, making all of the tiny people in it yelp in surprise.
"A monster!"
"The phoenix!"
"AAAAAAHHHH!"
The nine tiny, fairy-like, big-headed people suddenly banded together and trembled in fear. Pixies. Aisha's eyes were instantly drawn to the one that'd been singled out. Of a slightly smaller size than her companions, wearing pink, and sleeping.
Her heart skipped at the sight, tugging her towards Piff.
"Wait, isn't that…?" The pixie at the front of the group said. Her long hair was tied into twin-tails. Chatta.
"Aisha!" Digit said, with her slicked black blue hair and wearing a number of gadgets she'd built herself, buzzling with electric excitement. "I always knew you'd come! My calculations are always right!"
The world slowly came into focus. The chamber Aisha had entered was lit only by the very energy field that held the Pixies prisoners. It was almost invisible when looked at directly, but if she deviated her eyes she could see its red afterglow, almost like an illusion. It was unnatural and being in its presence made her sick. How could the Pixies be this spunky when surrounded by it?
"Yes, I'm here… barely," the woman collapsed next to the cage, not even bothering to touch it. It was atop a stony pillar, and there was an identical one on the other side of the chamber. "W-where… where are the others…?" She asked, fearing she knew the answer.
The pixie with a bright magenta bob cut started crying uncontrollably at the question, and the others lowered their heads. That was about what Aisha had expected. She bit her lip and held back the need to cry. 'My fault. This was my fault.'
"I'm… I'm so sorry… To all of you… I…" she started, but she was too out of breath to finish the sentence, and too tired to even cry.
"Aisha…" Chatta flew closer to the barrier with a sad face.
Now was not the time to be lamenting. Aisha sucked up her grief and steeled herself, raising on shaky legs. "Any ideas on how to dispel this barrier?"
"It sucks up our magic if we try to touch it," Digit explained. "But I've calculated a powerful strike at exactly this spot on the pillar will create a perfect hole for us to slip out of."
Aisha took a good look at the spot and nodded. She had no magic left, though, so how was she gonna do it? "How powerful does it have to be?"
"Hmm… Well, I think if we all manage to converge our power, we could do it." The Pixie then turned to the others with a frown. "But they won't even try."
"It's too much!" Lockette said. "What if he catches us again?!"
Aisha blinked. "He?" she asked, frowning. "Who?"
"The Phoenix!"
This gave her pause. Prior to this, her assumption had been that the Trix were behind all of this, somehow having escaped the Fortress of Light. "T-the phoenix? That black beast guarding the caves?"
A shiver ran down her spine thinking of it. How it had swooped in at her the second she'd stepped into the caverns, taking her by surprise, sapping away all of her magic before she could so much as try to lift a barrier.
"It's not a beast!" Digit corrected. "It's Lord Darkar!"
"…who?" Aisha didn't recognize the name.
The blue haired pixie slapped her enormous forehead. "Ugh, you really shouldn’t have skipped all those history lessons. He's an ancient-"
"Bla bla bla," Chatta interrupted. "We don't have time for this! Are we gonna break free or not?"
The pixies nodded, and Aisha stepped back. The tiny fairies joined hands and started chanting in a low voice. Their bodies glowed with strength enough to be blinding, and when Aisha looked away a small explosion rattled the room. When she looked again, the pixies had carved an almost perfect hole at an angle through the pillar.
"Ha!" Chatta celebrated. "See? I always knew it'd work."
"It was my calculations that-"
"Let's go!" Chatta ignored Digit's complaint, but one pixie had gotten ahead of them.
Aisha extended her hand forward to catch Piff, who'd come flying as soon as the opening had been made, and as soon as they touched all the pain of hours of climbing and fear slowly seemed to recede in Aisha's aching muscles. She hugged her pixie with care, feeling like she would cry if she was allowed to stay like this for much longer.
"You're all out of magic, aren't you?" Tune asked, a primly-dressed, pink-haired pixie that spoke in a haughty tone. "We must help you, or we won't be able to escape."
"No, please. Even if you share your magic with me, I won't be able to transform. You're better off flying on your own," the woman rejected.
"I refuse!" Tune said, crossing her arms and pouting.
"We'd never make it on our own. We fly too slowly. The Phoenix would catch us in an eyeblink, even if we all went different ways," Digit shook her head. "Tune is right, our best chance is to give what little magic we have to you."
Aisha wanted to keep complaining, but before she could, Piff did exactly what Digit had said. She grew heavier in her hands—not by much, but noticeable to someone who was so used to carrying her around—and a fraction of magic came back to her.
Soon, the rest of the Pixies joined their younger friend, and with their magic combined, Aisha felt like she could maybe use weak spells again. Pixies didn't have a lot of magic, and even that wasn't very strong. The strongest Pixie was rumored to be about as powerful as young fairies, even younger than Aisha, so this was the best she could hope for.
If she could only recharge, but something inside this hateful cavern stopped her. She wasn't sure how, but she felt no magic inside this place, so if she ran out again she'd really be sleeping at the bottom.
"Alright, everyone come here," she ordered, grabbing everyone with both arms, save for Piff, who climbed all the way up her arms and jumped into her hood. Aisha had never worn a hood on her head, she kept them exclusively for this purpose.
Having regained some magic, it felt as though she was less tired than she really was. Even if it was only an illusion, she took a hold of that feeling and pushed herself to her feet. She had no idea of the layout of this abyss, but she did know the only way off was a single shaky bridge below. Or… well, maybe not? There had to be a backdoor, maybe on the top… base… ceiling? Of the reverse mountain.
Up or down?
"Lockette, you-" Aisha paused, realizing there was no point in asking.
"Yes?"
"Nothing." Damn it, she should've stopped the pixies.
Enough wondering, the creatures of shadow were gonna find them if they kept this up. Aisha stepped out of the chamber and, knowing there was no exit to her right, ran left. Her steps echoed along the stone walls, and every one of them made her wince, though whether it was with pain or with fear of being heard she didn't know.
Soon, she had to use some magic to light her way. She came to a fork, and she cursed this drab, dark place, completely undecorated and unmarked. It was horribly efficient at getting you lost, as Aisha had proven by running around for hours without end to try to escape the beasts before she decided to climb up the outside.
"Go left," Lockette said.
"I thought you didn't have any magic," Aisha pointed out, but she took the path without hesitation.
"I don't, but I wouldn't forget the path we were brought in through," the Pixie explained.
Aisha smiled. Of course.
She kept following the pixie's instructions, and after crossing seemingly endless corridors that all looked the same, they reached a set of stairs. However, the girl skidded across the floor and quickly put out her light, hiding behind a corner.
"What is it-" Chatta started.
"Shut it," Aisha ordered, putting a finger over her mouth. Her sweat suddenly turned cold as she sharpened her hearing.
Clickity-click. Clickety-clack.
Slowly but steadily, the sound of claws approached up the stairs. Aisha stopped breathing, and the Pixies sensed her terror, because they stopped squirming and pressed closer together.
The hallway wasn't in absolute darkness anymore: There were windows next to the stairs, and the muddy not-light of the cavern slipped in. Aisha stepped a bit further behind her corner, wondering if she even had the strength to take out one of the creatures of shadow. She'd learned to purify them in Alfea during the Trix's attack, but with what little magic she had…
Clack.
The sound of the claws stopped with a sharp, loud final step. Aisha's heart raced so fast she was sure the creatures had to be hearing it. But she still slowly peeked around the corner, needing to know its shape to at least be prepared to fight it.
Only, it wasn't a creature of shadow.
Tall and spindly, easily twice as tall as Aisha, the thing standing in front of the stairs was humanoid. But its spindly limbs and spiked joints, its skeletal wings, the sharp beak, the black fire dancing on its head… whatever the thing was, it clearly didn't belong. A sense of pure wrongness emanated from it, even more so than from the creatures.
But the worst part were its eyes, flashing yellow, blue and purple; swirling colors pierced the darkness and nailed on Aisha.
She didn't have time to think. She didn't have time to consider the consequences or plan for the future.
Her reaction was as primal as that of an animal: She ran.
Fear. Fear was known to her. It had been next to her all her life, in various forms. She believed she was acquainted with it; like an old friend she could talk to.
Oh, how mistaken she had been.
It was unclear how her limbs kept moving, or why. There were no sounds of pursuit, no sign she was being chased. And yet, she knew. Like a sixth sense, the feeling of being watched stayed with her. Somehow, the thing knew where she was and was coming after her.
Clickety-clack.
Clickity-click.
As though the thing had read her thoughts, Aisha heard its steps echoing through the corridors and hallways, the bouncing of sound making it impossible to pinpoint how far behind her it was. It was entirely possible that had been the first steps it had taken.
Turn after turn, the reverse mountain never changed. Narrow corridors, doors that led to empty chambers, endless darkness. Was she lost? Was she going in circles? Nothing but stone and stone and stone surrounded her. Was this even a real place? Was she dreaming? She couldn't feel her limbs, she couldn't hear her steps, her breathing, not even the rush of blood through her ears. Absolute silence, complete and utter nothingness, making her wonder if she'd gone deaf.
Clickity-click. Clickety-clack.
Aisha stopped.
Before her, as she turned, a light was revealed. A light at the end of a long tunnel. This had to be it, this… there was no other way. She couldn't stay here anymore. All she could do, all she could hope for, was to find a way down from wherever that exit led.
She resumed her run and finally reached…
The same balcony she'd entered from.
'Ok, that's good, it means I can climb down from the same place I came up, right? I just gotta find the right holds and-'
The bat of wings. The slicing of air. In an instant, the gloom glow of the cavern turned black, blocked by a massive flying creature made of pure black fire. A screech pierced the silence, so strong and horrid that Aisha bent over in pain, almost dropping the pixies in her need to cover her ears.
The Phoenix, the thing that had sapped her magic.
But for the first time, she saw its eyes up close as it swooped nearer. A swirling mass of yellow, blue and purple.
'Oh no,' she thought, instinctively stepping back.
The phoenix slipped through the space between pillars, spinning, turning on itself, folding its wings. It became nothing but a ball of darkness and flames for a moment, but then, its wings opened again, and standing right before Aisha was the spindly figure that had been back at the stairs. Its beak somehow twisted into a mask of displeasure, its eyes narrowing, their colors mixing and mingling until they became a uniform golden glow.
"Foolish fairy," he spoke, his voice like a thousand pained screams, "you can barely stand. Let go of the Pixies and I may yet make your end a painless one," he extended a hand with long, needle-sharp claws.
"Ain't gonna happen," she spat, baring her teeth and turning around, ready to run back into the maze of the mountain.
But she hit something with her face.
Her brain had to take a moment to comprehend why she'd face-planted into nothing but darkness, but as she took a step back, she realized the darkness was moving. Two massive creatures walked out of the hallway, creatures of pure black, writhing and growling. One of them had a back made out of endless sharp needles that constantly shifted, growing and melting and growing again in an endless cycle of creation and destruction. The other was a long-necked disgusting being that looked like a worm with legs, a maw on its head with endless teeth spinning like sawblades but making not a single noise, horrid spit oozing out of it and hitting the ground before somehow moving and rejoining the main body through its feet.
"Your nonsensical bravery is getting tiring." A second later, Aisha was pulled to her feet by her head. She screamed in pain as the sharp claws of the Phoenix squeezed her, and his hand moved in an impossible contraction to get her to face him. His eyes showed nothing but hate and disgust for her. "I could squeeze the life out of you without an effort, but that quick of an end would be too good for one that has insulted me such as yourself," he declared. He squeezed again, and the pain was finally more than Aisha could take. She dropped the pixies in reflex, reaching up to try to pry free the phoenix's claw, to no avail.
"L-let me- go-" she demanded.
The Phoenix, impossibly, smiled. He took a single step towards the cavern, his long arms being more than enough to dangle Aisha over the edge of the balcony. "As you wish."
"AISHA!"
"NO!"
The Pixies' cries of desperation faded as wind rushed past Aisha's ears and she tumbled through the air like a ragdoll, her tiredness quickly catching up to her. As she saw the bottom of the cavern approaching, she wondered if she'd even get to experience her death awake, splashing against the floor and becoming nothing but a…
Was that… a river?
Before she could make sure of it, all faded to black.
Everything faded to white.
Bloom covered her eyes at the brightness as she stepped into Stella's room, wondering who in hell needed this much light for anything ever. "Stella?" She asked into the white void. "Are you here?"
"Oh, Bloom!" Finally, light levels came back to normal. Bloom blinked and allowed her eyes to adjust, looking around the familiarly messy room, with its pink everything save for the purple carpet, which was practically hidden beneath the heaps of clothes strewn around. "Welcome!" Stella greeted, extending her arms.
Her blonde hair flared behind her, loose and shiny as always. She was trying out a long red dress that was quite beautiful, but something about it didn't quite suit her. Maybe it was the vertical lines on the skirt—it made her legs look too long, disproportionate.
"How… how did you manage this?" Bloom asked in a mixture of surprise and fear. "We arrived here last week, there's… There's no way you've built up this much mess in such a short time."
"Well, there was the date with Brandon, so I had to look for a dress, then the Winx Hangout at Asle's—I can't believe you've still got hours in that ticket—and tonight's the Start Of Year Ball! Brandon's gonna come, and so is everyone else! I have to look my best, Bloom!" Stella explained with a nonchalance which bespoke she considered this to be completely rational.
Bloom opened her mouth, but then thought better of it. There was little point in even trying to discuss these things with Stella. "Alright, sure. Listen, it seems something went wrong with the lighting system, they're asking light fairies—you included—to go help charge some of the spare magitech lamps."
"Ugh, can't they understand I'm busy?" Stella complained, pouting.
Knowing her friend, Bloom understood Stella wouldn't move until she found something suitable. Scanning the floor for garments—a skill she'd developed thanks to her own messy habits—she quickly found a few discarded pieces that she quickly picked up through levitation. She made them float to her and pushed with her powers, subtly altering them, mixing them, letting the magic flow from her core to the fabrics until she was left with a beautiful orange and blue dress, complimentary colors that were accentuated with some darker brown strips that decorated the sleeves and the waist, which would both help ground the dress and also match with Stella's eyes.
"There," Bloom offered it to the princess. "What do you think?"
Stella turned the thing around a few times and pressed it against her body whilst looking at the mirror. Her eyes widened with surprise and joy. "Bright lights, Bloom, this is incredible!"
Bloom allowed herself some satisfaction and smiled. "Having the power of creation has its advantages," she bragged.
"I'm starting to consider whether I even need to go shopping anymore- HA! Like I'd ever drop my hobby," she joked, twirling one last time before putting the dress on her bed. "Alright, I'll go help."
"Thank you."
Stella walked out after changing, but Bloom was already on her way out by then. She calmly traversed the lively hallways of Alfea, with their smooth beige walls and light green floor. Colorful paintings were spread out evenly so that one could always have something to look at, and many pedestals with flowers or busts of important fairies of history stood in between them.
"Oh, Bloom, there you are!" Tecna cried out for her as Bloom stepped into the main hall, a massive chamber at the very entrance of Alfea, high, with enormous pillars of beautiful design. The Techno-Fairy, on the upper level, was connected to a machine of a design far more advanced than anything Bloom had seen before. The energy her friend was getting from it was such that her short magenta hair waved lightly. "Did you hear my calls?"
"Calls?" Bloom cocked her head. "No, I just came because you'd asked me to earlier."
"Rust, it must mean my calibration is off," she said, annoyed.
"Do you… need any help?"
"The best help I can get right now is to be left alone. This top of the art technomagic, and it's quite hard to integrate it with the systems of Alfea. I'm half certain I fried some lights earlier."
"Oh, that was you," Bloom said. Tecna glared at her. "S-Sorry, I'll leave you be." She waved and left as fast as possible. Tecna didn't get worked up over many things, but technology was a one-way ticket to passion for her.
She walked out, waving her hand at new and old faces as they greeted her. She wasn’t sure of who'd had the time for it, but there were videos of the Trix's attack on Accademia, and apparently, the most famous of all was a compilation of Bloom's moments. She was now something akin to a celebrity around the universe, though she didn't have to deal much with it at Alfea.
Or, she hadn't had to, until last week. The influx of first years had been insane, easily making up for all the fairies that had dropped out after the war. Bloom was glad for that, but-
"B-Bloom!" A girl she'd seen a few times around her this last week finally approached her, eyes gleaming. "I-I was a p-part of the defense of Alfea l-last year, though I wasn't yet a student, I- I was there when you saved us!" She explained in a trembling voice. She looked like a wet puppy.
Bloom smiled. "I didn't save you. Everyone did their part!"
She wasn't being humble. She couldn't have done anything on her own. But history seemed to have a tendency to pick a single figure to elevate to hero status regardless. It wasn't something Bloom was particularly comfortable with.
"W-would you give me your autograph?" The first year asked, offering Bloom a magic pen and a paper.
"Sure," she said, taking the pen, infusing it with her magic, and writing her name on the paper. The magical ink left trails of fire that didn't spread, and Bloom handed it back to the girl, who seemed on the verge of fainting with excitement. "But I don't think it's gonna be worth much."
The girl nodded and scampered away with a gleeful giggle, and Bloom noticed she was blushing hard. Her friends teased her as she rejoined her group, and all of a sudden the redhead realized this may not have been just about her being a hero at all. It was quite hard to accept, sometimes, that she was good-looking too.
"Look at you, breaking hearts on every branch," Flora's voice surprised her. Bloom turned to see her brunette roommate carrying a big plant above her head. It looked like… a blue tulip, maybe, though the petals had strange swirly patterns to them, as though someone had carved them.
Bloom blushed, feeling a bit self-conscious. "I'm not used to all this attention. What are you doing?"
"Helping with the flower arrangement. This is a-" Flora said some scientific name Bloom couldn't even begin to make sense of, and her translator didn't try to either "but a more colloquial term would be Violet Water Petal. This specimen specifically is quite unique! See those patterns? They usually only get them when they're close to dying, but this one got them right after blooming! It's considered an incredibly good omen, and I found it fitting to be the centerpiece of this year's ball."
"It's beautiful." Bloom nodded. She sniffed the air, trying to see if it had any scent. It was a sweet fragrance, perfect for a perfume. "It smells amazing, too."
"It's odorless," Flora said with an awkward smile. "I think that's just my perfume."
"Oh," Bloom scratched the back of her head. "You smell nice, then?"
Flora chuckled and entered the school, leaving Bloom to stand around awkwardly near the gates. She sighed, stepping out into the courtyard.
With a centerpiece of a beautiful fountain, Alfea's courtyard was quite scenic. Multiple dirt paths cut through a lavish garden, and beyond it, the double iron gates of the school, beyond which waited the endless forests of Accademia. The trees closer to the school were considerably thinner and younger than the ones some ways off, thanks to the attack of the Trix last year, but Flora and others had joined forces to bring most damaged areas back to a state where the ecosystem could comfortably take it on its own.
She considered taking a walk down to the gates, but there was little point to it. A part of her wanted to transform and to fly high into the sky—she hadn't transformed in like a month and a half at this point, with vacations and the little need for it at their current classes—but she knew she had to be more responsible than that with her powers.
"H E L L O?" Musa's voice suddenly reverberated through every bone of her being. "I DON'T KNOW IF THIS THING IS WORKING. TESTING. TESTING. ONE. TWO. THREE." Her voice was coming from the speakers of the school, and it was so loud that Bloom saw everyone else cover their ears. "OH, IT IS? TOO LOUD? SORRY, TESTING THE SOUND SYSTEMS," she continued making Bloom wish she'd lost her eardrums.
After a few tense seconds, it looked like she wouldn't be back, so everyone relaxed.
"OH RIGHT, BLOOM, IF YOU'RE HEARING THIS, COME TO THE AUDITORIUM."
Trying to ease the pain in her ears, Bloom massaged them without much success. She decided it was better for the health of everyone's hearing if she hurried to answer the summons, so she hurried her step and dodged further requests for shaking hands or autographs with as much grace as she could without seeming rude.
The auditorium was a room as you'd expect it to be: Rows of seats going down step by step towards a center where many things could be set up, from special classes to shows. In this case, there was a small scenario built, multiple instruments set up, and a girl singing to herself.
As Bloom walked down the stairs, the song of her friend reached her in full, and its sound enraptured her. She felt as though she were floating dow- No, wait, she literally was floating. As though the air itself had become a mattress, each of Bloom's steps seemed slightly bouncy and soft, like she imagined walking on clouds would feel.
As she approached the bottom, she was walking about half a meter above the ground. Just enough, in fact, to be able to step onto the stage without a problem.
"Oh, Bloom!" Musa finally noticed her. Her black-bluish pigtails had gotten longer over the past few months, and now reached down to her shoulders. She'd expressed a desire to make them long down to her waist, though there was still some way to go for that one.
As soon as the song stopped, Bloom lost her magical footing. If she hadn't been on top of the stage, she'd definitely fall and trip. Even as it was, she stumbled a bit.
"Woops," Musa grabbed her arm to stop her wobbling. "Sorry about that, still fine-tuning that part."
"What was that?" Bloom asked.
Musa smirked. "Think I've spent all vacations doing nothing? Noise no!" She stepped back and tapped her microphone—which was remarkably similar to the ones Bloom was used to, given how advanced Magix was in terms of tech.
"So you've been practicing?"
"Something like that. I'd say it's closer to experimenting. For example: Older songs tend to be more effective, but only if they were popular. Modern songs I can use, but if they're not well known, a lot of people won't be affected by them. Ancient cultural chants are the most effective, but their meanings are usually simple and don't give me a lot to work with. What you just heard was 'The Flight', by Hourglass Sixty. It's their most popular song and it goes back about a hundred years. Almost everyone in the universe has heard it! It's about the desire to fly—the singer and composer was a sorcerer that never managed to do it on his own—and with my music, I can make everyone who listens lift off the ground!"
Bloom blinked. "That's amazing," she said in disbelief.
"I know! But if I put too much magic into it, well, people are gonna go too high and trip, so… probably less than what I just used."
"I am just a single person, though."
This gave Musa some pause. "Hmmm, maybe, I didn't account for that…"
"Do you need help?"
"Huh? No, not really."
"Uhm…" Bloom hesitated. "Then why am I here, again?"
"Oh, right! Here," Musa handed over a small silvery box. "I heard Tecna's having some trouble connecting to the main systems of the school. It may be because I took that…" she smiled apologetically.
"B-but why me?"
"Well, I… know you're not doing anything else, and we're friends, so… sorry."
Bloom took the box. Well, this was doing something, she supposed. "I'll take it. The song was beautiful, too. Can't wait to hear it in full!"
She climbed out of the auditorium and made her way back to the main hall, offering a very upset Tecna the box. A single look at it was all she needed to realize why her attempts had been failing, and Bloom feared she was gonna strangle Musa in her sleep tonight.
Leaving the upset android to her machinations, Bloom realized that now she was truly out of ideas. A lot of fairies were helping for the preparations for tonight's ball, but she hadn't been offered any jobs. Maybe she could just go up and make herself a dress. She'd grown a lot more adept at using her transformation magic, and though the finer details she still made by hand, she knew with a few more years of practice she'd be able to create whatever design her brain could come up with in the blink of an eye.
Would that be positive or negative? If her passion was trivialized, would she lose it?
Thoughts too deep to be having them before lunch.
Still, she'd already picked what she was gonna wear tonight, so there was little point in wasting time like that. Therefore, she decided that nobody would be upset if she took a break to go do some research at the library. As she walked, she reached up to her necklace, fidgeting with it out of habit. The small medallion, made of solid gold, showcased the blazon of the Sparks. It was the symbol of the Royal Family of Domino: A four-pointed golden star upon a field of green and red. The center of the star was decorated with a fire ruby—which was just a ruby with a slight hint of orange, which made it almost look like fire under the right light.
It had been a gift from Daphne. She'd explained its meaning: The star for the brightness of the royal family, the green for the green fields of Domino, and the red for the bright red hair of the first Spark. The ruby, of course, meant to represent the Dragon's Flame, the power that had created Magix, a fraction of which Bloom carried with her.
"Feeling lots of feelings there," another familiar voice caught Bloom by surprise, and she turned to see the local witch: Mirta, with her short maroon hair, a single lock dyed blue. "I'd ask how are you feeling, but why are you feeling tends to be more useful to me," She joked, her smile a warm as always.
"You're not on duty, you know?" Bloom reminded her.
"Can't well leave a friend in trouble, can I?" She retorted. Since joining Alfea, Mirta had helped students deal with their emotions in many ways. With Avalon on leave due to the damage he received during the Trix's attack, she'd become sort of the replacement counselor. Or, rather, she'd become the counselor. Avalon had never quite gotten that title. Despite her youth, Mirta's empathic abilities made her one of the more mature people Bloom had known, especially in managing emotions.
"I'm mostly feeling a bit out of place, since all my friends are helping with the preparations, while I'm not," Bloom explained. "Also thinking about my family and all of that."
"I see," Mirta lifted a hand. "Would you like a curse to help?"
She'd learned to deliver 'curses', but they held positive effects on one's mood, like helping you focus or relieving stress. Most people considered them blessings, but the mechanics between the two things were different—curses fed on one's own magic, while blessings fed on the caster's. Regardless, Bloom shook her head. "I'm ok, just gonna read for a while."
Mirta nodded. "I'll leave you to it, then," she smiled again before leaving.
Bloom kept fidgeting with her necklace as she reached the enormous doors of the library, and slowly made her way down the wide stairs, the trip taking a minute or two.
Alfea's library was big. So much so that it was impossible to see the walls standing at the center, as they got lost in the light and ambience. Rows upon lines of shelves upon stacks of books stretched in every direction, and Bloom knew full well most of these books were actually rather badly organized. It came with the experience of having spent some time here organizing it herself after some shenanigans last year.
She walked on the greenish carpet and sat at the lonely tables of the center of it all, and then, in a clear voice, she called for books. "Domino. History. Culture."
The echo of her words was far louder than it should have. Which was a good thing; it meant the library had heard. Soon after, a couple dozen books came to her. Bloom sorted out the ones she couldn't read from the ones she could, save for a pair of them that were written in Dominian, and sent those she found useless back to their places.
She opened up the one she'd taken home with her during vacations: 'Cultures Extinct and History Unveiled, Volume 4: Domino, the Frozen Kingdom.'
The book was spectacularly well researched. It spoke of all facets of society: How the low classes lived in comparison to the high classes, economy, dress codes, gastronomy. It spoke of historical figures from Domino, of events, of its calendar and even curious facts.
And on her other hand, Bloom opened up the exact same book, but written in Dominian.
She took her necklace off and set it on the table, tapping its red gem in a specific pattern and then speaking a single word: "Daphne."
The gem glowed intensely for a few seconds, and then a fire erupted from it. The gem itself wasn't magic, but it did have an enchantment. One that Principal Faragonda herself had given Bloom.
"Greetings, dear Bloom," Daphne said through the flames. Her masked face danced with the fire, but even through the waving image, Bloom could always feel her the love her sister had for her. "Is it time for another lesson?"
"I have free time and nothing better to do, so yes," she smiled. "But first, how was your day?"
"It's been short," Daphne explained. Bloom lifted an eyebrow. "Morning came around two hours ago."
The redhead chuckled. Ever since meeting Daphne, she'd gone back to Domino with some regularity. She'd retrieved a few things—money, some old clothing Daphne had offered her, the necklace—but the real reason had been to try to keep company to her dead sister. After being stuck in complete solitude for three thousand years, Bloom figured she deserved to have someone talk to her. But the trips to Domino were arduous, and the Planetstorm made teleporting risky, even if one less Planetstorm meant it was more accurate than it had been in the past.
Faragonda's communication spell, then, was a life saver: Anchored on Daphne's ghostly essence, the communication could even pierce through the magic interference of the planetary storm that encased Domino.
"Ok, so here's this word I'm having trouble with—I see no direct translation to it on the text, it almost feels like I could skip it and nothing would change," Bloom explained, raising the book with her finger pointed at it.
Daphne narrowed her eyes and read. "Ah! Well, that's because it has no direct translation to a lot of languages. It's more of a filler word used to string two sentences together," Daphne said. "But it was archaic by the time I was born, so whoever wrote that must have done some serious—and slightly misguided—research. You can consider it akin to commas? Or maybe a dot," she explained.
"Ah, that explains it!" Bloom nodded with an excited smile, the doubt finally vanishing.
As often happened, Daphne looked very satisfied.
Bloom had no hopes of ever being able to bring back Domino's culture to Magix. But she wanted to learn as much as she could. She wanted to know of her heritage so, when she managed to fix the planet, there'd be something resembling what Domino used to be waiting to be reborn, like a phoenix from the ashes.
Oh, that too. Bloom wished to fix Domino. She'd do it even if she had to personally break the Planetstorm with nothing but her bare hands.
Hours of pages flipping followed, paper scrapping against paper and the soft voices of Bloom and Daphne the only things breaking the oppressive silence of the library. Losing one's sense of time was quite simple down here, and Daphne's sense was attuned to Domino's time, so it wasn't too useful for Bloom.
"Oh, this." Bloom pointed at a pair of pages in the book. "The writer speaks of several mentions of 'Seals' in ancient Dominian writings, but says that it doesn't make any sense, because Domino never actually had any of those. They never used those to close letters, thanks to the advanced magic they controlled. He theorizes they may have had an extremely short period where they created seal-adjacent methods to guard written information, but that even if that was the case, the way these writings spoke of said seals was strangely ominous. Maybe they weren't related to writing, and were just magic seals? But he failed to find mentions of something like that when studying Domino's magic culture," she explained. "Any ideas?"
Daphne closed her eyes, humming as she thought. "I don't think I've…" she paused. "Maybe I have, actually. It sounds mildly familiar. Perhaps I studied some of it during magic classes. My memory is no better than yours. I've kept mine for over three thousand years, but I believe that's simply because there's nothing new to add to it while being stuck here for so long."
"Hmm…" Bloom hummed too, but she didn't have any ideas.
A focused silence fell between the sisters for a short while, which was broken when the fire that projected Daphne's face started to dim. "Oh, it appears we're at an end of the conversation."
Bloom nodded. "Seems like it. I'll try to come visit as soon as I have a few more extra days. Maybe for the day of the rose? I'd like for you to meet my parents, some day."
Her sister nodded gracefully. "I'd like both of those things very much. Have fun at the party, dear Bloom."
"Bye Daphne, call you later," Bloom waved and put a hand over the fire ruby, cutting the connection. The gem could be recharged with some of her magic, but it'd be back to normal in about a day anyways. While Bloom didn't call Daphne every day, she made sure to communicate two or three times a week at least. She was very conscious of the fact that her sister had literally no-one else to talk to.
It was the least Bloom could do, after Daphne had sacrificed everything for her.
As she thought about this, an idea struck her. She cleared her throat and spoke. "Seals. Domino." She waited for a few seconds, but nothing happened. "Uhm…" what other things could she try? "Seals. Domino. Ancient." Again, nothing. "Seals. Dominian. Spark."
Nothing was working. Of course, looking just for seals was futile, it was too generic a term. Though, now that she thought about it, the book didn't say the seals were Dominian, just that Dominian writings mentioned them. So… ancient seals seemed right. But what else?
Well, maybe Bloom was a bit judgmental of her culture for what she was about to try, but there was always one uniting thread to almost everything related to Domino she'd ever read.
"Seals. Ancient. Dragon's Flame."
This time, a dozen tomes arrived. They were indeed ancient, with yellowed pages and not made of paper. But as Bloom eyed the covers—she couldn't read the languages, but she'd already learned many of the numerical systems used in Magix—she quickly realized they were dated after the fall of Domino.
'Alright, just one more try, if not… maybe I can ask Faragonda,' Bloom figured.
"Seals. Ancient. Dragon's Flame. Date: Pre-Fall of Domino."
For a second or two nothing happened, making Bloom start to give up on the idea.
Then a cold breeze washed over her, and a cold shiver carved its way to her bones, making her frown and stand. It was a strangely familiar sensation, and one she had thought she'd never feel again. Her hairs stood on end around her body, and her entire posture was tense, fight-or-flight triggering inside her body as she prepared to transform at the slightest hint of danger.
"What are you doing?!" A high-pitched, familiar voice startled her. Bloom jumped away from the table, looking down at the tiny Pixie now standing atop her pile of books. Concorda, the librarian, with her blue robe and funny pointy hat.
"S-sorry? I was just asking for some books and I felt-"
"Some books? Young lady you just asked for some deeply forbidden knowledge! I know not how or why you know that combination of key-words, but never use them again!" The small woman's anger would have been worrying, if not for the fact that it was also deeply confusing.
"I- I don't get it. I was just… doing research."
"Well stop your research! The knowledge you seek is not for mortal hands, not even the Vessel's!"
Surprised by the forcefulness of Concorda's voice, Bloom came to the conclusion that whatever it was she'd accidentally asked for was something she should likely leave alone. "Alright, alright. I'm sorry. I promise I won't do it again."
Concorda instantly relaxed, acquiring her more normal attitude. "Good, that's a good girl. Are you finished with these books?"
"Uh, for now, yeah."
"Good," she clapped a couple times, and all the books on the table flew away. "I'll be back in my office, in case you need me."
Bloom nodded weakly as she saw the pixie go.
Wait. She had an office? Was it doll-house sized or…?
Sky tugged at the collar of his suit and gulped, growing nervous as the transport lowered closer to Alfea. The bare, grey metal around him was calming, usually, but he remembered how last year's ball had gone and had decided to make up for the lack of dancing.
"Haven't you been dating for like… a few months already?" Brandon asked him. The fact that he'd chosen to wear a loose suit instead of a formfitting one only made him look even more massive than he already was: A head taller than Sky and twice as wide, the squire and bodyguard was a wall of a guy. Nobody could deny he was handsome, though, with his short brown hair and bright eyes to match. "Relax already!" He slapped Sky's back with so much strength that all air left the prince's lungs.
"Ha, yeah, something like that…" Sky said after regaining his breath. Brandon was missing the context, though. Bloom had sort of said she wanted to try things out, and they'd done… basically nothing, since a week later she'd gone back to Earth for all of vacations, and Sky was not owner of a dimensional jumping artifact or tech.
"Dude, don't be so nervous. Listen, you just walk up to her and say 'Good night, my lady' with a smooth tone, everything falls into place after that," Riven chimed into the conversation. Instead of wearing suits, like Sky and Brandon, Riven had worn a long robe half-wrapped around his body, its deep red color accentuated with purple trims. It made him look like a cultist, in Sky's opinion, but that was formal clothing in his home planet. Not that he could ever look formal or fancy with his stupid hair, which he always stylized in spikes that added an entire head of height to him.
"Yeah. How's your relationship with Musa going, again?" Sky asked with a deadpan.
"What do you mean?" Riven asked narrowing his eyes.
What a clueless guy. "Nevermind. Let's just say I'm not too keen on taking your advice here," he said, shaking his head.
Riven shrugged.
"Being in a relationship sounds like a lot of trouble," Timmy commented.
"Yeah, like you're not here to spend all night chatting with miss android anyways," Brandon teased.
Timmy pushed up his glasses and blushed at that. "W-well, maybe, but me and Tecna are just friends." He said. The overdone slicked-back hairstyle he'd chosen for tonight, however, said another thing entirely. He'd worn so much hair gel that his light orange hair looked white under the reflection of the lights.
"Whatever you say. Just have fun," Brandon nudged him. "Next week we start classes for real and… Ugh." He shivered at the thought, with good reason. Third year training regimes were said to be twice as harsh as second year's. And knowing their teachers, it didn't sound like an exaggeration.
Finally, the transport landed with a loud thud, and the transport shook slightly before the massive ramp lowered. Outside, a sea of fairies waited, already waving excitedly at the Specialists.
No, not only fairies. This year, Witches had been invited too. Though from what Sky knew, most had rejected the invitation.
As the specialists stepped off the transports, Sky looked around, feeling slightly nostalgic about the situation, almost exactly the same as last year. Only, this time, the group of girls waiting for Sky's team was complete. The five members of the Winx waved at them from near the school gates.
"Hey, get here faster!" Somehow, Stella's voice broke through the murmur of the crowds around them.
Sky's eyes were drawn to Bloom, and he smiled widely when he realized how beautiful she looked. Her hair up in a ponytail, she'd worn a dress of a design he already knew to be Dominian, a dress that when not-worn looked to have too much leftover fabric, but that was adjustable, folding under the arms and behind the neck before being carefully tucked with a sash, and a long, loose skirt that reached just below Bloom's ankles, nearly touching the floor.
It was of a striking electric blue, with accents of gold. She'd even worn a golden tiara reminiscent of her fairy form. The only discordant feature was her necklace, which she never took off.
"Bloom, you look amazing," he said as soon as she was within earshot.
"Thank you. You're looking handsome yourself," she said, patting Sky's own lavender suit and smiling at him.
They stared at each other for a tense second in which Sky felt his heart accelerate. He wanted to lean down and kiss her so bad-
"Hey, that's Bloom!" a voice from the crowd startled them.
"What, where?"
"Oh my god there she is!"
Bloom's and Sky's faces froze for a second as they both realized that those transports had been full of first year specialists that had never seen her before. And now she was a celebrity on a universal scale.
They couldn't react in time before a sea of fans surrounded them.
Stella and Brandon were pushed away from the rest by the current of fans that rushed to surround Bloom. They only stayed together through holding hands, but before they realized it, they had been forced into the school and separated from the rest of their friends.
"You know; I was Miss Magix last year! Sure it was a messy thing and Lucy got all the attention, but I'm kinda offended no-one's recognized me like that," Stella complained, pouting.
Brandon squeezed her hand and stood to face her. "You'll always have my attention, my lady," he said.
Stella almost burst out laughing. Some of his corny lines could be smooth, but most were about this level. Which meant, not very good.
The two of them knew this, of course. It was part of the fun. "Oh, how sweet," she said in an overly dramatic tone. They smiled at each other for a second before someone else pushed them again, interrupting what would have been their first kiss of the night.
"Hey, watch where you're-" Stella turned with an annoyed face, but paused as she saw who it was. A witch wearing a surprisingly tidy suit, with long, dark-green hair, a hooked nose and a prominent chin. Her unfortunate face had been made even more unique by the addition of thin lightning scars going across it, a grim reminder of her fight against the craziest witch in the dimension. "Oh, Lucy! Didn't think you'd come."
Lucy blinked, as though she hadn't realized they were there. "Hmm, oh. It's you, Stella," she looked around instead of at them. "Good to see you and all that."
Stella rolled her eyes. It was evident she didn't mean a single word of that. In fact, she didn't even seem focused on the conversation at all.
"Mirta's at the infirmary," Stella informed.
Lucy instantly turned her eyes to her, looking worried. "What?! Why?! Did something happen to her?!" She lunged at Stella, taking her by the shoulders and shaking her.
"No!" Stella pushed her away. "Take a sunbath, girl! She's on standby because she figures a lot of people are gonna get heartbroken tonight, that's all."
Lucy visibly relaxed. "Sorry for that. Uhm… Bye," she instantly walked towards where Stella had pointed.
Brandon stepped up next to her again. "Witches, huh?"
"I know we're supposed to no longer be rivals, but I can't stand them," Stella agreed, shaking her head.
"Anyways, when's Musa's conce-"
Stella jumped and clasped a hand around his mouth. "Shhht! We don't use the C-word!" Brandon's brow furrowed. "She gets really self-conscious about it, ok? We've just been calling it a performance."
"O-ok," Brandon nodded. "But she's nowhere nearby…"
"She's got incredible hearing, remember? Better not risk it. Now come on, let's go eat something and dance, it's not until later," she said, taking his hand and dragging him towards the food tables.
Musa wasn't dressed for a party, but for her performance. She wore baggy pants, an outrageous jacket, and she'd put on a beanie, hiding most of her hair under it. She currently stood in what shouldn't have been an awkward silence with her boyfriend, and yet, it was.
"So… Wanna dance?" She asked.
Riven shook his head. "I was training until not that long ago, I'm beat," he said. "Don't let me stop you, though."
Musa had to hold back a sigh.
If she had to put their relationship into a single word, she'd probably use 'Complicated'. They were, technically, dating. But they rarely went on dates, since Riven was obsessed with training, and vehicles, which would have been fine if he was a bit more attentive when they did get to spend time together.
Musa understood this was how he was. She didn't want to change him, but it was hard to believe, sometimes, that he liked her back. He hadn't even asked after her performance later tonight, or made a comment on her attire, and rebuffed every attempt Musa made at conversation.
"You know, you could stand to gain if you spoke a bit more," Musa said.
"I have nothing to say," Riven explained.
"I know. But that’s not really the point," she said. "I want to talk with you."
He turned to face her, taking in the words. His expression had a slight change—Musa thought it was understanding. "Oh. Sorry, I'm too aloof for my own good at times," he cleared his throat. "I, uhm… can't think of anything to speak of, but if you're still up for it, I can take you on up on that dance?"
Musa smiled and felt some level of relief. At least he wasn't that clueless. "Fine, but I better hear you scream later tonight."
"Scream?"
"At my performance."
"You have a performance?" He looked shocked.
Musa frowned. "I've been talking about it all week! How can you n-"
Riven started laughing, and Musa realized she'd been teased. "Sorry, sorry, couldn't resist. It's in… an hour and a half, right? I'll be there front and center, being so loud people won't even hear your singing."
"I guess I can accept that," Musa nodded, pretending to be harsh. "Come on, let's go dance."
Riven allowed himself to be dragged to the dance floor.
Tecna found little enjoyment in dancing. She understood the idea behind it, but dancing for the 'joy' of it was maybe still outside of her grasp. Musa loved it, and the others had fun with it, but she had a better time standing back and watching her friends having fun while she chatted with Timmy.
"So, this year I'll get a permit for requisition of Specialist Grade-C Equipment," the boy explained. He had combed his hair back with about forty percent more hair gel than needed. Tecna wondered if it was due to inexperience or some other reason. Certainly not cultural; Tecna had studied the history and multiple cultures of his home planet before.
"I'm aware," Tecna nodded. "Red Fountain has decided to always keep a supply of it on-site despite the danger, after the Trix attacked."
"Yep! So it's also that much easier to get access to it. I won't have to wait weeks for it to arrive after I get the permits!" He sounded excited. "Some of those tools would have been incredibly useful during the war, but thanks to the communication issues we couldn't access it." He shook his head. "And tech Specialists also get access to the Red Fountain funds for experimentation and development. I think I'll keep upgrading my Timmy Gun. Probably won't get anything as good as the equipment I'll be able to request, though."
It made sense. Red Fountain's Vaults contained some of the highest end tech and most dangerous artifacts of the dimension. As such, it was hidden from the world in a corner of the universe no-one knew about. Particularly after Saladino's disappearance, the higher echelons of Red Fountain vowed to never again allow such disgrace to fall upon them.
Speaking of, Tecna could see that some of the older students were gloomier than the rest, rocks of stillness against the sea of dancing students—and Knut, the big yellow ogre, who'd gotten a free night off janitor duties. They moved less, chatted only among themselves. They had an air of seriousness to them, of being on edge. Many of them were those that hadn't been able to graduate last year, those who had helped with the Saladino searching efforts and had lost months of school. They seemed to consider it a personal failing to have lost their director like that.
"You know? Lately, you don't simply stare anymore, you… scrutinize," Timmy said, breaking her focus.
"Excuse me?"
"Like… When you look around you, you get this thoughtful look, and your eyes narrow a bit," he said. "I'm not sure if something like this can happen to you, but… is there something on your mind?"
Tecna paused. She hadn't realized she did that. Which was unusual, she normally had complete control and awareness of all of her body functions. Though she supposed that it was possible her ever evolving programming was slowly starting to incorporate quirks or habits…
"I don't think so," she admitted. She then reached up, gently tapping Timmy's shoulder and brushing off some hairs that had stuck to his suit. A second later, his face got slightly pink. "Oh, excuse me, did I hurt you?"
Timmy blinked. "Tecna… I…" He looked to the side. "I'm flustered."
If she looked through her databanks, it was not the first time Timmy had done that. In fact, it seemed to have become more common as the months advanced. But reasons for flustering like that were numerous. Perhaps he was prone to having colds and fevers?
Her thoughts were momentarily interrupted by a girl accidentally dropping her drink nearby. She was mortified, but a witch—or so Tecna assumed, due to her dark, ripped attire—decided to, in an uncharacteristic moment, clean that with a snap of her fingers. Maybe witches had learned a thing or two in the last half year.
"I feel like I'm missing context," she finally stated, going back to her conversation with Timmy.
Timmy chuckled. "It may just be me being a big coward, but I… think it'd be better for you to figure it out yourself," he explained with a nervous smile.
Tecna frowned. "You're no coward, Timmy," she said. "I have plenty of evidence for it."
He smiled, his eyes gleaming with something Tecna couldn't quite read. "Maybe I shouldn't be surprised, but you manage to impress me every single time we meet, you know that?" He said in a softer voice.
Tecna smiled with some pride. "Well, that's just a show of my ever-evolving growth," she declared.
Timmy nodded. "Hey, I know you don't like it much, but… would you care for a dance?"
"I suppose I may gain a greater understanding of it through experience," she said.
Timmy offered her a hand, and Tecna took it while examining what style of dancing was best for the music currently playing.
Flora smiled and swayed her head at the sweet sound of Musa's voice. When Faragonda had offered her this chance, the Music Fairy had been a nervous wreck, as she preferred to make music than to sing herself; but since figuring her voice was her most powerful weapon, she'd started to use it a lot more. She couldn't pass up this chance.
Now, all those in attendance at the auditorium—it wasn't full, since most people had stayed at the party, but at least half the seats had been filled—floated a few centimeters off the ground as Musa's magic flowed through them. No-one was left indifferent, and how could they? It was a great song and singer.
This year had started off pretty well for Flora. In the months of vacation, Palladium had kept taking care of the forest, so coming back had been a nice surprise. On top of that, the Winx had been granted a rare privilege: To keep their rooms. Normally, you were moved around from year to year. It wasn't that big a deal, but Flora had a lot of memories tied specifically to her room. Talks with Bloom, everything that happened with Mirta, that one time she'd been growing some snapping vines that almost dragged Stella into the closet…
Musa's song finally came to an end, and the audience was put down slowly back on their places. Clapping and cheering followed soon after, and though Flora had arrived late and was near the top of the auditorium, she could still see her friend getting flustered and surprised at the attention. A figure that stood out in the front row was the spiky hair of Riven, who had stood and was celebrating as though it was the best performance he'd seen in his life. Maybe it was, to be fair.
Not soon after, with the show over, the audience started their way back to the ball. Flora stood still, watching them pass by, slightly uncomfortable at the sheer amount of flowers carried around. Flowers cut for the sake of looking pretty, instead of naturally grown by specialist mages or scientists…
She sighed. It had only been a week. She needed to readjust to the world outside of Linphea.
Her powers had grown stronger over the past half year, for good and bad. Under the guidance of the teachers at Alfea, she had learned many things. Specifically, she'd put a lot of effort into being able to manifest her power without the presence of physical plant life. Plants created from scratch were not truly alive, and as such, Flora didn't feel recoil when they inevitably got torn up.
Of course, she'd failed to learn to sieve herself. To disconnect from wider nature and to shut off the pain of the world around her.
In truth, she wasn't even sure she wanted to. Whenever she tried, a deep feeling of wrong and guilt overcame her. How could she do that? Nobody paid attention to plants. To snapped branches and cut roses, to mowed grass and stepped-on dandelions. Nobody but her.
Maybe that wasn't the only reason she didn't want to, though. After all, someone dear to her had said this was a strength, not a weakness.
"Damn, we're late."
Flora blinked. Speaking of fallen leaves, she turned to see Mirta, who had just entered the auditorium. She noticed Flora and smiled, waving. Next to her was Lucy, who didn't seem as affected by missing the show.
Thorns, bad moment to be reminiscing. She'd figure out what Flora was thinking. Empaths weren't mind-readers but the Elder Trees knew they came pretty damn close.
"What'd you think, Flora?" A new voice saved her. Musa had walked up to where she was.
"It was an absolute joy," the Nature Fairy confirmed, smiling from ear to ear. "Your voice is gorgeous, and when I was lifted off the seat I was really impressed."
Musa was taken aback by the glowing review, visibly blushing. "G-geez, Flora, you know how to make a girl happy," she said with a chuckle. "I'm glad you liked it."
"Makes me wish I'd been here," Mirta also had gotten closer. "Sorry for having missed it. Easing the pain of rejection of a dozen people took a while."
"I should have asked you to make me less nervous," Musa said. "I planned to dance around more, but my legs were so shaky…"
They started chatting about the show, and Musa even gave another demonstration of her song, making all of them float for a moment. Besides Lucy's remark of 'witches can do that without help', it was clear they'd enjoyed it.
Finally, Riven ran up to them. He had been down there picking up flowers people had thrown at Musa, and he offered them to her. Musa hugged him, kissed him, and waved to them as she took him back to the dance floor.
Mirta watched them go with a thoughtful look. "What is it?" Asked Flora.
"Private stuff," the empath said with a knowing smile. "Can't go around sharing private feelings like that."
"I guess it's for the best," Flora nodded.
"Are we just gonna stand around in this empty auditorium or…?" Lucy asked, her impatience evident.
"I mean, it's not like we were doing anything else," Mirta complained. "Unless you wanna dance?"
"Pfft, dancing," Lucy snorted, but then she paused. "But if you wanna do it…"
Mirta rolled her eyes. "Alright, let's go. What about you, Flora?"
Flora looked down. "I think I'll see if I can rescue some of the flowers still down there," she said. It wasn't a lie—lying to Mirta was futile—but she also wasn't being completely honest. Still, Mirta, pretended to take her at face value and walked off with her not-quite-girlfriend Lucy.
With a sigh, Flora walked to the bottom of the auditorium. She wasn't sure she still liked Mirta, but some lingering feelings definitely resurfaced every now and then. Still, it was in nights like these ones, where everyone was paired up with someone else, that she really felt a bit out of place. Bloom and Sky, Stella and Brandon, Musa and Riven, even Tecna and Timmy were a thing in their own way. Flora didn't normally value herself based on her relationship status, but she did wish she could have someone like that now and then.
Oh well, for now, she'd pick up the flowers and-
A shiver ran down her spine. Like a bad omen, strange energies reached her from all the way outside. The voice of Nature growing uneasy, the presence of strange magic. Flora paused, purposefully extending her senses, meditating. It was possible this was related to some witches being out on the woods, but there was something deeper going on.
Maybe she was being paranoid, and this was nothing. Maybe it was just the memories of how last year's Start-of-Year Ball had gone, with the Trix kidnapping Bloom. Regardless, wary, she decided to go tell her friends about it, hoping it was nothing to be worried for.
The forests around Alfea held bad memories for Bloom, especially during the night. But Flora's bad feeling wasn't one she was going to dismiss, no matter how nervous she was.
"Are we sure we should be out here?" Stella asked.
"It's ok, we warned Faragonda this time," Bloom said. Plus, things weren't like last year. She could now transform and was the most powerful fairy of her year. In fact, she was more powerful than even the fairies of the year above hers, but those had experience and other advantages on their side.
Still, with Faragonda watching over them, Bloom felt a lot less threatened. Not that there should be anything to be threatened by. The Trix were tucked away in the Prison Monastery of Roccaluce, the Fortress of Light, presumably to be either reformed or never seen again.
Bloom didn't have high hopes for the former.
"Wait," Flora made them pause. She closed her eyes. "It's… on the bridge."
"The bridge?" Musa asked.
"Yes."
Everyone grew tenser at the thought. The same place where Bloom had been taken, and where she'd originally given up the Scepter of Solaria to the trio of evil witches.
"I propose transforming preemptively, as to avoid being caught off-guard," Tecna suggested.
"Wait, maybe they don't know we're here," Stella said. "We could try a sneak attack."
"They?" Brandon asked. "You don't think…?"
"It's too big of a coincidence," Bloom said. "We don't know if the Trix have escaped somehow, but… Better safe than sorry."
Everyone lowered their postures, starting to walk more carefully. The boys prepared their weapons, though they didn't unsheathe them—holocrystal glowed faintly—and the girls readied to transform at the slightest hint of trouble.
They closed in on the stream that ran close to Alfea, and Bloom could feel her senses sharpening with the sheer anxiety she felt, the idea of once again facing the Trix making her blood rush and her heartbeat spike.
But as they broke into the clearing, the faint light of the crescent moon was barely enough to reveal there were no witches in sight. In fact, Bloom saw absolutely nothing around. The bridge, the trees, a bunch of rocks-
Wait. There were no rocks here.
And those 'rocks' appeared to be breathing.
Before she even processed the information, Bloom was already rushing forwartd, extending a hand and lighting a fire to reveal the figure lying next to the water.
"Shade," Stella mumbled from behind her. Bloom knelt next to the soaking wet figure, ignoring the fact that she was ruining her dress. She hesitated before touching her—it was wrong to do such things—but she noticed the poor girl was trembling. With some care, Bloom cradled her, and soon her friends were behind her.
The girl's clothing, beyond just wet, was torn apart in more than one place. Some holes and tears looked like they could be accidental, but others were clearly cuts. And her face had thin scars around it, as though someone had pressed a bunch of knives to it. Bloom moved her hair out of the way, the girl's dark skin having grown pale at the cold she felt, despite temperatures being quite nice.
Wait… her face…
"That's the hovercycle girl!" Stella recalled.
"She was here during the Trix's attack, she helped us!" Musa added.
"What was her name?" Flora asked.
"L-Layla?" Bloom tried to recall. "I think that was it."
As though in response to the name, Layla's hoodie suddenly glowed. Bloom peeked inside it, revealing the pink-dressed baby Pixie inside, trembling too. "A fairy's bonded Pixie is only one," Tecna remarked. "So yes, this is indeed the very same fairy who has helped us before. But what is she doing here? What could have happened to her?"
"We need to get her to the infirmary, now," Bloom finally snapped out of her surprise. "Stella."
"On it-" Stella approached, but at that moment, Layla coughed.
Everyone paused as she slowly opened her eyes. They lacked light, and the lids barely rose halfway, but they seemed to find some focus on Bloom's face. "A… Anna…?"
"Layla, are you ok?" Bloom asked, but there was no clear acknowledgement that she'd even been heard.
Layla mumbled again in a coarse voice. "I… don't want you to… go…"
"I'm not going anywhere. Hey, stay with me. Hey!" It was a futile effort, for Layla's eyes closed again. "Stella! What are you waiting for?!"
"Right, sorry," she rushed over, taking Layla and Bloom. "Is Mirta still at the infirmary?"
"It's likely," Flora said.
"Good enough for me," the princess nodded.
Bloom felt the familiar sudden lightness of being carried away as pure starlight, and for a split second, she almost wished the Trix would've been waiting for them at the bridge, instead of a hurt girl.
Who was Anna, anyways?