Winx Club: Dark Magic (Season 4)

VIII: Plots and Schemes

"Gantlos," Ogron hissed, "Again."

The lead Wizard watched his companion use another dark spell on the elderly sage in their captivity in the abandoned realm of Shadowhaunt. Since escaping from the Omega dimension just two days ago, the Wizards had all felt Duman's absence like a gaping hole, and knew they would need to get him back. It seemed that the Wizard from Andros, Nabu, had trapped Duman in Oblivion. Escaping from the Omega dimension -a frigid place designed specially to keep even powerful magic users hidden away for good- had proved enough of a challenge, and only after three long months of attempting spell after spell had the three Wizards finally managed to break out. Yet Oblivion, from the way the sage they were interrogating had described, was going to be nigh impossible to spring Duman from. Oblivion was saved for creatures too dangerous for even the Omega dimension to handle. It was built to be a sort of magical vacuum: once someone found themselves pulled in, there was no way to reverse it. 

But Ogron refused to believe it was that hopeless. 

As much as he hated to admit his fondness for anything, he did value each member of his team to a degree which he would never be able to confess to them, and he would surely silence them if any one of them accused him of such a thing. All that to say, he needed Duman back. They all did. So they would find a way to spring him from the hellish prison that was Oblivion, even if it threatened to claim all of their lives. 

Gantlos' latest spell reached its end, and the sage looked positively mortified at the experience he had just endured at Gantlos' hands. "Speak," Gantlos ordered, kneeling an inch away from the sage, his voice void of compassion or sympathy for his victim.

Shaken and pale as a ghost, the sage stumbled through a fear-induced explanation: "Oblivion is impenetrable. T-there's nothing powerful enough to break the forcefield. No one alive today could possibly manage it." 

Anagan growled in frustration, shaking his head furiously as he paced behind Ogron. "This is hopeless."

"There has to be a way," Gantlos muttered, though he didn't seem entirely convinced of his own claim. 

Ogron paused for a moment, carefully considering the sage's words. "You said that no one alive today could possess the power," he alleged. "Was there ever a time when someone could do it?"

The sage glanced nervously at each of the Wizards, his entire body trembling uncontrollably.

Impatient and upset, Gantlos snapped. "He asked you a question!" he roared.

The sage jolted with terror, then launched into a panicked answer. "An ancient band of dark magic-users organized a successful breakout centuries ago," he stammered. "But their powers died with them; no one inherited their dark gifts. I didn't lie to you: no one alive today could do what you ask."

"What were these dark gifts?" Ogron asked.

"The Heart of the Abyss was one," the sage recalled. "Another bore the Phoenix' Strength, and the final one boasted the Eternal Dark."

Ogron and Gantlos exchanged knowing looks. 

"Well then," Ogron grinned slyly, "it seems you were mistaken in claiming that no one alive today could possess the power necessary."

The sage looked upon Ogron with confusion. "Whatever do you mean?"

"There was one surviving descendant of the Eternal Dark," Ogron mused. "And we stole her power years ago. The Eternal Dark is ours."

The sage seemed utterly perplexed. "That's... that's not possible... the Eternal Dark was destroyed centuries ago. No one has witnessed it since, and-"

"Well, think again," Anagan chuckled, finally stopping his pacing. "Looks like things are finally working in our favor."

"Indeed," Ogron nodded.

Gantlos rose to his feet, leaving the sage behind him. "Great. Let's get out of this place and go get Duman."

"W-wait," the sage called quietly, causing Gantlos to look over his shoulder at the old man's pathetic life form crumpled on the cold ground. 

"What?" Gantlos snarled. 

"You won't be able to break your friend out, even with the Eternal Dark." 

"You're lying," Anagan said. "That's not very wise, considering what we could do to you."

"No," the sage protested. "I'm not lying. If you indeed found an heir to the Eternal Dark and stole her power, you only have a fraction of it. The three dark gifts I mentioned are bloodbound: their power resides in their hosts."

Gantlos' eyes met Ogron's. "It would explain why we could never harness the same power that the fairy did on her first try."

Ogron grumbled. "So what must we do to obtain this power?"

"You can't," the sage refused. "Only the descendant of the Eternal Dark can wield its full might. You will need her help if you are to free your friend from Oblivion."

"No," Anagan immediately interjected. "We are not teaming up with some fairy. No way."

Ogron ignored the Wizard's objections, running it through in his head. He looked to the sage. "And this is the only way?"

The sage nodded quickly. Desperately. Too afraid to be conjuring up lies as complex as this. 

"Wizards," Ogron sighed, clenching his fists. "It appears we are heading to Earth."