Wings of a Wizard (Harry Potter x Winx Club x Fate Winx Saga Fanfiction)

Prisoner of the Dark Pt.3

A.N.: First of all, Happy late Thanksgiving to everyone!! I don't know about yall, but I'm already sick of eating turkey. Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeell, unless it comes in a sandwich XD. 

Secondly, I am unhappy to say that I've hit another writer's block. I'm torn between having the following quartet continue this AU trend or whether I just resume the canon episodes. I really could use some opinions on this, so plz comment, if nothing else, then to help me break out of my hesitation. 

(lmao, that got real quick)

Lastly, I'm hyped for what's coming up next. No spoilers, you'll see in the final part of this quartet, but it's something that I know many of you have been silently/screaming at your monitors for Bloom to finally meet. 

X - normal text

X - text where Bloom is not present

'X' - thoughts

'#$X#$' - Parseltongue

Warning: Angst, depression, teen drama, arguments, graphic fight scenes, mentions of blood

Chapter: : Prisoner of the Dark Pt.3: 

After a surprisingly restful night of sleep, I awoke to see Flora watering her plans again. "Morning Flora."

She turned a little, smiling at me. "Morning Bloom. How do you feel?"

"Better." I sighed as I slipped out from under the covers, and began to stretch.

"Stella said that you had another breakdown." She left the statement open-ended, a silent offer to talk or to escape.

Much like what Dumbledore had done.

I twitched before I pulled out my drawers and pulled out a new set of undergarments, a new top, and a denim skirt.

Kiko roused from his slumber, cutely peeking out from his little basket, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

I smiled down and pulled him out from his basket, cradling him to my chest, and nuzzling his cheek with my own.

Flora was watching us silently, waiting for me to speak.

"I--", I turned to her as I let Kiko hop onto my bed. "Have you ever lost someone close to you that you never knew, Flora?"

She shook her head, biting her lip.

"I have." My tone was charged with emotion. Hurt. Regret. Pain. Rage. "My birth parents and older sister--blood sister--fought in the last war in the Magix Dimension. A war whose every last detail, along with my entire realm has vanished, covered up by the Council of Light." I spat.

Flora gasped. "They wouldn't dare!"

"They did." I stared at her. "The man I went to see, he was my godfather, though I didn't know it until I met him. He told me everything."

Still breathing heavily, my shoulders rising and falling a tad more dramatic than usual, I wrenched myself away and pulled out my art supplies, seeking to escape.

"Bloom?"

I loathe myself right now. "What?" I ask, setting up a canvas and pulling out my coloring pencils.

Flora looks hesitant. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring it up and anger you."

I shut my eyes tightly. "It's--not your fault." My shoulders slumped. "I'm not mad at you, Flora, I'm just..."

"Frustrated? Annoyed?" She offered with a weak smile.

"Well...yeah," I admitted, even as I stuffed down all my feelings of hurt and anger. "I love my adoptive family, and I would do anything for them."

Flora sensed what I hadn't said. "But..." she prodded.

I took another trembling breath. "But...what if I had the chance to know them? The people who brought me into this world? Be held by them? Laugh, cry, share stories. Gossip, steal my parent's outfits? Or Daphne's. The older sister, who I was told jettisoned me to Earth." 

Flora gasped, her eyes widening. "That's how you ended up on Earth!" 

I nodded. "In the back of my mind, I've always been curious about my birth family. Who was I? Where did I come from? Where did my magic come from? Was I always named Bloom? Is the baby blanket I have something that my adoptive parents made, or is it an invaluable treasure from my home realm? Was I even from the Magix Dimension--just born on Earth? Or was I born in a realm that has since been forgotten?"

What happened to my realm? What happened to my people? What happened to Domino?

I shook my head, my tone trembling with pent up emotions. Sadness. Anger. "The questions I had only grew after Stella brought me here. All of a sudden, I went from being the odd fire fairy whose adoptive parents were uncertain if she came from the Amazon or the Warrior fairy enclaves of the White Circlet Fairy Kingdom to a fairy with a rare element and a powerful aura in a parallel dimension of magic and planets."

Flora either sensed my need for physical comfort or she really just had good mothering instincts, because she pulled me into a hug, pulling my body flush against her's. I rested my head on her shoulder. "I felt even farther from my private search than before. I sought to find Hagan, only for him to recognize me."

"Recognize you as who?" Flora asked in amazement. "He's a veteran and one of the most accomplished blacksmiths ever."

"I--the daughter of his best friend." My eyes fluttered shut. My heart squeezed, I was so close...I could admit it here. That I was a princess, daughter of King Oritel and Queen Marion.

I opened my mouth to say so, but I seized up again. My eyes watered, I just...couldn't. I can't.

The fearful voice in the back of my mind speaks for myself, 'No one can know, or I won't be safe. The Dragon Flame won't be safe. We'll be hunted.'

"Hey, it's ok." Flora rubbed my arms, and my trembles subsided. "Tell me when you're ready. I'll be here, as will the Winx."

I choked back a sob, weakly smiling. "Thanks, Flora. I just..." I shook my head, cutting myself off before I clamped up again. Heat built up behind my eyes and I tightly shut them. "When I'm ready, I'll tell you all."

I reluctantly opened my eyes to meet her's. Filled with so much understanding, sympathy, and compassion. "You all deserve to know, especially since I've done such an abysmal job hiding this from you, and I've pestered you all too much."

"It's not pestering if we want to help you integrate yourself into our world easier and better," Flora protested and hugged me tightly. "Whenever you're ready, we'll be here to listen."

We separated, and I awkwardly pulled a lock of hair behind my ear. My hands were fidgeting, and I needed something to do. Something to get my mind off of...all of this, lest I blow up. 

"Do you um...have anything I can sketch?" I asked awkwardly, tucking a stray lock of hair back behind my ear. "Like a plant...or a model or something pretty?"

Flora smiled, and her eyes lit up. "I got a Singing Periwinkle from my uncle yesterday when we pruning an Icicle Thorne Bush in the greenhouse. It's a pink flower with delicate stems and shimmering leaves."

I nod once, finding myself reduced to a limited vocabulary. It always happens after I have a bloody long cry or brooding fit. "That'll do."

We set up a stool in the middle, and placed the pot on top. I eye it, studying the rather gorgeous plant from multiple angles.

The Singing Periwinkle has four pink petals that curve, flowing up, and then down like a wave on each side, each petal a lighter shade of pink than the one before it. The stem itself was a sleek vine that wound down, like a small spring, with carefully curved leaves rising and falling, the ends tipped.

When it was watered, it would sing a musical melody that was a cross between something you'd expect to hear from an orchestra tune. Like the genre of classical music, with Mozart and others. 

It was a beautiful work of art, especially for Mother Nature.

"Um...Bloom?" Flora fidgeted. "Can...I..." she trailed off, looking at my canvas.

Realization hit me. 

It wasn't the first time Flora had cast my art supplies an envious look. And why not? Besides poems, gossip, and sharing the same bedroom (not that like you perverts), we had our differences. This could be another way to bring us closer as friends and make stronger bonds. Plus, it was nice having more things to do together. 

"Oh, sure." I pulled out the pieces and began assembling a second board. "Paint or watercolor?"

She bit her lip, her face flashing with gratitude. "Paint."

I nod. "Ok."

As soon as I tighten the last screw, Flora helps me to set the stand upright, and I place the canvas sheet in and fasten the clamps so it doesn't come loose.

I set small cups of paint, and several brushes on the tray once I fold it out and connect the supports.

I stood back to admire our work. Nodding to myself, I then went for two cups of water. When I returned, Musa was lounging in the living room.

"Morn'in." She mumbled, still looking tired.

"Morning." I set down the cups before I pulled her into a hug. What can I say, I just like hugs.

She smiled back as she released me, and I stiffened when I felt her probe against my shields. Naturally, I snapped up my barriers in reflex, jettisoning her probe out of my head. I was careful in doing so though, her mind was still weak. 

Giving her a smirk that was more impressed than annoyed, I waved my finger. "Naughty naughty, Musa."

She grinned sheepishly. "You were the one who told me that when using the mind arts, a little trickery is involved."

I tilted my head side-to-side. "Kinda. I was quoting Harry Potter there."

"Huh?" She looked confused.

"Nevermind." I rubbed my face, ignoring the fact that sooner or later, they're going to realize that a number of the spells I use came from that series. Still, we have six more movies to watch. Technically seven, since the Deathly Hallows was so big that they had to split it into two parts. "We need to continue that movie marathon ASAP."

She giggled at my self-annoyance, then glanced at the cups with a raised brow. "Thirsty?"

"Art," I said simply before hurrying back to my room with a curt 'later', too eager to give a full explanation. I haven't had much time in between random bouts of grieving and 'catch up on schoolwork' to draw, and I'm craving this. Just another escape route, one of my few comforts.

Plus, I haven't done a live recreation of a physical object in a while. Should be interesting, especially with the lighting and such.

Flora thanked me when I passed her the cup, and I set mine on the small ledge with my other paint supplies.

Frowning, I shifted the white sheet and then pulled out my pencils and erasers. I always do a light sketch before I actually paint, just to make sure that I can properly 'fill in between the lines'.

Flora opted for the latter option, just starting to paint. The perfectionist in me wanted to protest, but it was her work, so I let it be.

Pick your battles wisely, and know when there shouldn't be a reason to argue.

Biting my lip, I lean out, studying the angle I want to draw before I lift my pencil to the paper and begin.

Breathe in, breathe out.

My lines slowly form, each a unique piece that comes together to form a delicate and elegant puzzle of twisting vines, leaves, pollen, and flower petals.

Periodically, between drags and strokes, I glance at the flower, biting my lip before I decide to add in the vase it rests in.

Halfway through, I realize that the proportions are off, and I internally curse as I flip over and start again.

When I make another error, my palms grow sweaty, and I fumble with my eraser.

Why oh why can't I just do something right for once?

Flora looks at peace, her brush dipping up and down before sliding around the canvas with delicate, precise strokes.

If I could paint Hogwarts in all her glory, I can paint this. Focus Bloom!

Eyes narrowed, I lift my pencil again, touching it lightly to the paper, and begin the familiar motions, my breathing settling as I move through the familiar motions of crafting art. 

I draw the stem, add in the petals, followed by the pollen center. Then the leaves...ensuring to shade liftly, and carefully mark out the areas that I intent to go back on with a second coat of paint once the first layer dries. 

I snap out of my focus when Flora calls, "Hey, Bloom. Have you finished?"

"Not yet," I reply, struggling to get back into the familiar rhythm now that the spell is broken.

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, then touch my pencil to the paper at the same time that Flora finishes.

"Done." She says with a satisfied smile, then glances at me. "Having trouble?"

"Focusing." I grit out, ignoring the chaotic bubble of emotions inside me. A cry of frustration escapes my lips when I realize the last curve I made for the vase is off.

Cursing, I move to restart, only for Flora to pull the white sheet away with a mixed look of mothering concern and worry. "Relax, Bloom. Take a few deep breaths. You're getting too worked up over this."

Deep down, I know that she's right, but I can't. Art was one of my escape routes from reality, short of fighting--which no one here seems to approve of, and it's not like I can just sneak away and start hurling fireballs in the forest nearby--or talking, and the latter is unavailable to me right now.

"No." I make to grab it back, only for her to pull it out of reach while holding me off with one arm. I could push her, shove her, use my magic to rip it out of her hands, and return it to me, but I won't. I respect her and like her too much to hurt my friend and my roommate.

"What have we walked in on?"

Our cheeks turn pink at the same time, and we turn to see the other three girls standing in the entrance, looking a mix of confused and amused.

"Uhh..." I trailed off awkwardly, even as Flora stepped back, my third attempt still in her grasp. Looks like I won't be getting that back right now.

"Hmph." Stella sniffed. "Any-hoo, look what I found from an antique shop!"

She pulled out a small Keepsafe box and pulled it open to reveal a golden-yellow gem with an orange outer metal and a bluish-white chain, similar to the color of Stella's scepter.

"Wow!" Flora and I gasped.

"What is it?" Musa peered into the box.

"If I'm not mistaken, it's a Solarian necklace." Tecna studied it carefully. "If you consent, I could work on a more intrusive investigation to determine the year and manufacturer."

"No need." Stella waved it off. "It's another family heirloom, one that's been passed around in the black market. One of the guards is friends with the antique shop's owner, and they passed along the news to me that another piece of our culture would be at the shop, and my father commanded its retrieval."

"Shifty politics." I turned my nose up, ignoring the girl's giggling.

"And while Stella was busy shopping for old trinkets." Musa teased, ignoring Stella's indignant squawk of "Trinkets!", "Tecna and I designed a brand new music player!"

She held it out, beaming. "The MP-10!"

I broke composure, my snort of amusement causing a flicker of annoyance in her eyes. "Sorry--not laughing at you, just the name is familiar." I snickered.

The girls glanced wearily at each other, half-expecting me to pull out a random name for an Earth joke or movie or something. "Another Earth reference?"

"It's the ID product number of one of the most expensive Optimus Prime figures." I shrugged with an embarrassed blush that gained knowing smiles.

Before Musa and Stella could start teasing me, Tecna spotted the page Flora was holding. "So, what did you two spend your morning doing? Art?"

"Well...we were." Flora cast a look at me.

A surge of emotions filled my breast, my fists clenching. Oh no she wasn't...

"We were drawing a Singing Periwinkle, but Bloom wasn't very happy--"

I made to swipe it from Flora, only for Tecna to swipe it from both of us.

"Let's see." Tecna flipped the page.

"No--" I cut myself off, just as she held it up for the others to see.

"Is it drawn with invisible ink?" Musa giggled.

"Or has it yet to bloom yet? Get it?" Stella teased me, missing the shaking of my shoulders.

Tecna's lip twitched. "Or perhaps, she found a deficiency in motor skills to create art?"

Oh, she did not go there! 

My irises flashed orange.

Flora paled.

"Enough!" I marched up and ripped the paper out of Tecna's hands.

Glaring at them all, I stepped back. "For your information, Tecna, I just didn't feel like drawing today." Lie.

"Calm down, Bloom." Stella tried to coax me into a more relaxed state--clearly failing. I was already emotionally unstable, and now the girls had prodded the sleeping dragon.

"Calm down?" I hissed, too riled up to listen, unaware that my magic was beginning to rise up and heat the air around me. "I am sleep-deprived, emotionally unbalanced, and I can't even find comfort in one of the few activities that I normally do perfectly!"

"Perfect is unachievable. Some standards are too high. It's illogical." Tecna said.

I glared at her. "Maybe for the emotionally retarted robot, but not for me."

Flora flinched a little, understanding the insult. Musa looked disapproving, but I was too angry to care. Tecna just looked confused, even as Stella's eyes widened.

My magic was swirling around inside me, no--out of me. Flames were starting to dance around my arms. "I've had a passion for art my whole life. Not only is it one of the few ways I could relax, but it's also one of the things that I'm best at, apart from being an 'Ignorant witchy know-nothing-at-all from a backwater magicless dump'."

Stella looks like she really wants to take back her words now, but I'm too deep into my rant to give her a second to interject.

"I haven't worked hard on building up my skill in this craft, for you--you to just insult one of my few selfish passions!"

I'm like a cornered animal, shifting on my legs, backing up. "Even my art professors went crazy over my work."

"Poor thing, did he recover?"

Maybe it was meant to be a light jab, a reproach, or just another tease because she missed the social cues. But Tecna's statement just rubbed me the wrong way.

Musa's snicker only made me angrier.

My irises don't flash orange, they shift to orange, and stay orange. Flames begin to dance in my hair, which starts to smolder. 

"Whoa." Musa froze.

Flora moves to wrap her arms around me, but I hold her back with a hand. "No."

"Bloom?" Stella looks a little desperate when she realizes that I'm starting to leave. "Wait!"

"No." I reach the doors and twist back, looking at them all from the corner of my eye, practically spitting fire. "I learn that my birth parents are dead. I'm struggling to be a good fairy in a dimension that doesn't want or like me. I'm stared at like I'm some kind of guinea pig, some new specimen that everyone needs to inspect and dissect. I have to deal with constant staring, snobbish brats, and fucking scrying spells. I don't want to deal with your childish insults too."

"Bloom--"

"Shut. Up." I snap, too angry to care who I'm speaking to, ignoring the guilt that pools up even as hurt flashes across Flora's face and Musa's turns angry.

"No, you shut up. Can't you see that you're being rude!" Musa snapped at me. "We were just having some fun."

"At my expense!" I hiss. "You of all people should know what it's like to discover that your closest family died. Should I make fun of you next time you miss class because you're too busy thinking of your dead mum?"

Musa's expression went through several emotions, shock, confusion, disbelief, terror, anger, and finally rage, but I was too angry and satisfied by the reaction my words invoked to care about the sore spot that I just prodded. 

I'd discovered that she lost her mother during one of our mind sessions, when I was testing her walls. I accidentally viewed her memory, although Musa didn't know it yet. She had been too focused on rebuilding her shields as I attacked to realize that one of my other probes had slipped through her defenses. 

"You should remove yourself from the situation and let tensions deescalate," Tecna said, her words in a monotone, but her eyes shining with her magic, her aura similar to the disturbed ocean waters of an incoming storm.

"Fine!" I growl, the sound low and guttal, more animalistic than human. "Since I'm hated by this dimension, and the friends I have are utter arses with zero sensitivity, I'll leave. Fairies my arse! Little Miss Magix and the zealous music addict can go back to their mutual hatred over a fucking feud that happened generations before they were ever born! And you. You think that everything has to be rational.  An emotionless nerd. But you, Flora." I hissed furiously. "You're supposed to be the empathic one. Instead, you just turned out to be a heart-breaking waste of space!"

The girl's eyes turned wide at the vitriol that spewed from my mouth, but I was already beyond the point of no return. I felt numb, watching as Flora flinched, Stella, Musa, and Tecna's eyes all glowing with their powers. "So fine! I'll leave! I know when I'm not wanted! I'll run back to Earth like the coward and liar that you all call me behind my back. At least the people there have the balls to say shit to my face!"

I barely register the thuds my feet make as I stalk out of the dorm, or the fact that I slammed the doors behind me.

With that, I'm gone.

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Stella stared at the shut doors in disbelief. A part of her expected Bloom to rush back in at any second, to silently break down and cry apologies, but after a minute, the only silence in the dorm's shared living room was Kiko's indignant squeaks, their tensed, labored breathing, and the ticking of the clock.

"That...happened." She said aloud, stunned. 

The silence doesn't last before Flora's heated expression turns on them. "You pushed her too far." 

Any hurt that had been previously shown by Bloom's aggressive tongue-lashing was hidden behind a neutral expression, thin lips, and narrowed eyes. 

Musa reared back, little music notes rising around her. "Excuse me?!?! Did I lash out because I was unable to use some sketch pencils today? Did I insult everyone here just because I felt like throwing a tantrum?"

"No." Flora's expression was hard, a stark and very unfamiliar contrast to the serene or happy expressions usually found on the soft fairy's face. "Bloom hasn't been in a good place, and you know it! She's having constant breakdowns because she found out that her origins ended in tragedy!"

Musa rolled her eyes, huffing irritably. She was furious that Bloom had mentioned something that even she didn't know she knew. "We know. Bloom had another cry, when doesn't she?"

"You will mind your tone." Stella hissed, her eyes flashing with her magic. Her knuckles turned white, the ring form of her scepter digging into her skin, but she welcomed the uncomfortableness of it. "Bloom's been struggling ever since she found out that her birth parents died, and she was choking through tears when she told her sister last night. Tears, Musa. Name the last time that Bloom actually shed tears for anything--and no, when the troll was crushing her doesn't count! Bloom never cries!!"

"I get that." Musa shifted, now looking a little uncomfortable. And regretful. But still firm, and unyielding on this. "But grief is no excuse for her taking her anguish out on us. You know it, I know it, and from the slight guilt that she had, she knows it."

"I can't disagree, but you were insensitive. You and Tecna." Flora pointed out, looking nervously at all three of them, as though she expected the others to explode as Bloom had. 

"Meaning?" Tecna's tone is laced with confusion. 

"Meaning that you were both rude and mean, especially inconsiderate," Flora said. "When Bloom gets sad, she either broods or gets angry. Or a mix of both. You don't really understand emotions well enough yet...and you Musa, you don't tolerate it, or overlook it accidentally." 

Musa crossed her arms, her expression unreadable. 

"But..." Tecna waved her hands, likely in frustration of being unable to comprehend. "What does her emotional imbalance have to do with her reaction to our words? It was irrational to react the way she did to...teasing." 

"That's just it." Flora shook her head, green eyes piercing them with her gaze. "She was trying to find peace in one of her habits, but every time that she tried to work on her art, she found some imperfection that caused her to start over. It would be like if Stella had a bad day where she couldn't stop mismatching clothes--"

Stella gasped, pretending to swoon and faint at the idea of crossing clothes and designs that weren't meant to be crossed. 

"--or you Musa, being unable to compose lyrics that rhyme. Or you, Tecna, missing the correct keys every time you type on the keyboard." Flora explained. "You would get upset too. You'd be angrier if your closest friends started to tease you about it. To them, it was good fun, but to you, it was mocking and insulting." 

"Hence, she lashed out. I won't condone what she did, and I expect an apology from her--", her expression slipped, and for a second, the other girls saw hurt and something vulnerable flicker before her neutral expression was back, " --but I understand why she did it." 

The girls still looked unhappy with how Bloom had blown up at them, but now there was a dawning understanding in their expressions. 

"I...I've made a grave error in judgment," Tecna paused, looking shocked that she reached that conclusion. "I shouldn't have added more social attacks into the conversation." 

"Barbs." Musa corrected before she too winced, looking at the others in horror. "We fucked up, didn't we?" 

"Bloom did too, but I think we should wait until she cools down before we fix this," Stella glanced at the closed doors worriedly. "I don't want to try and make amends if she's still full of fire." 

"Literally," Musa muttered under her breath. 

They'd all seen the sudden flickers of fire wisping around her limbs and hair, the sudden orange rage in her eyes. 

"But...where did she go?" Tecna spoke up, now sounding unsure. Something that she hated feeling--this was all out of her element. 

She would definitely be sending her next report with a recommendation to make studying emotions an educational requirement for those who intended to interact with citizens of the other realms, to avoid something precisely like this. 

"Well..." Stella tapped her chin thoughtfully, "She doesn't have work today, first week and all." 

"Where would she go then...to escape from reality?" Flora asked, now frowning in thought. 

Tecna looked confused at the phrase. "Why would she try to break reality?" 

"She means avoid everyone, find some peaceful place where she can be by herself, Tecna. Flora, I don't know." Musa frowned. "I know that she frequents the library, but in her state, Barbatea is more likely to throw her out, assuming that she even stopped by." 

"We could try asking some of the others that she talks to," Flora suggested, her eyes lighting up as she snapped her fingers. "The Westley Twins. Maybe they know something." 

"True." Stella glanced out the doors again, then down at her foot, where Kiko was tugging on the hem of her dress. "What is it Kiko?" 

The adorable bunny squeaked before he hopped back toward Bloom and Flora's room. The girls exchanged looks but followed after him. 

The rabbit hopped up over stacks of items--likely placed by Bloom so he could hop onto her bed with ease--before he hopped to her suitcase and tried to open it. 

The girls exchanged bewildered looks before they helped the rabbit unlatch the locks and pull the case open. Kiko hopped in, rummaging through before he hopped out, a notebook held high over his head. He looked utterly adorable beneath it. 

The girls giggled before Stella gently took it as Kiko hopped excitedly. 

Tecna, Musa, and Flora gathered around as Stella flipped it open, landing on a page of a new drawing of an aged man with the badge of Magi School for Forgers on his shoulder crests. 

"Hagan." Stella's lips twisted between something sweet and something sour. "She went back to him." 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Radius leaned back, staring at the young fairy sitting across from him. "She is fond of her then." 

"From what I could tell." The lime-colored eyes shine as they meet his. "There was no deception, at least on her part. All of our own private messages were transmitted when we agreed to meet." 

Nova winced, referring to the fact that she was taking her role as a spy more seriously, and doing it behind her friend's back. But there was more at stake here than her feelings this time. The very balance of the Magix Dimension was at risk. A fact that her king had shared with her in private. 

Radius frowned. He had been doing that a lot lately. "Indeed. But there is more at stake than she realizes." 

Nova watched as he rose from his seat and began to pace, arms clasped behind his back. "What ails you, sire?" 

"Something that would change the very political spectrum of the Magix Dimension, if what I believe is correct." Radius's lips set in a line. 

Nova's eyes widened at the hint. He refused to elaborate beyond what he thought she needed to know, and this was strictly 'Need to know'. "Sire?" 

He shook his head. "Nothing you young one need to concern yourself with. I release you for the day, Heiress Flare." 

Nova bowed, then left his office with a swish of her skirts, the guards outside closing the door behind her, leaving Radius alone with his thoughts. 

Faragonda had sent him images of the girl who had befriended his daughter from the photographer who had been at the Alfean Gala, and he had fainted from shock (much to the alarm of his personal guards). There was no doubt about it, that girl was the spitting image of Marion, but with his best friend's eyes. 

While the Headmistress of Alfea might have her doubts and misgivings, Radius had none. He knew, knew that she was alive. That Oritel and Marion's daughter had survived. 

The only puzzle that remained, was how? How had she lived? Was it her sister, whose cooling body was found in a half-destroyed room in Sparx's castle filled with Dark Magic? Had she sent the baby to Earth, where the Ancestresses in their hubris would likely never search for her? 

If so, it was a bold plan. But, then that raised other questions. 

Such as, how, exactly, his daughter managed to befriend the Keeper of the Dragon Flame? 

How much control does she have over her powers? How much does she know about her home? Is she driven to uncover what has been hidden? How much of her parents is in her? 

Radius shakes his head, the weight of his crown suddenly feeling heavier. 

Too many questions, and not enough answers. 

There was no true way to know what Bloom (Fyre) Peterson knew of her royal heritage, but he doubted that her identity would remain secret for long. Unless those secrets were hidden by the Council of Light and the majority of the leadership of the major realms, information would spread. 

King Radius would not be the one to spread it, however. While he did not know what Faragonda was thinking, he could guess, and he did not like what he predicted. 

Hiding her heritage from the girl would be disastrous once it was revealed, but there was little he could do. He was the king of a sovereign realm, unofficially at war with a minority of Solarian barons, on top of his divorce from his long-loved wife, Luna (who became less like the woman he fell in love with every day), and the increasingly distance contact from the fairy that he had chosen as Solaria's representative on the Council of Light. He had his duties, and they took up the majority of his time. 

He sighed, before he moved to shift papers, and slipped the image of his best friend's daughter into his lavish clothes. Then he stood, ignoring the slight groaning of the chair as it was relieved of his bulky weight. 

Even if he could not be there to help the lost princess of Domino, he would keep her secrets. But, he intends to learn more. 

Much, much more. 

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When I arrived at Hagan's school, I flew up to his window. My tears were gone, but my eyes still watered, and I lacked the energy I had on our first visit. 

Luckily, Hagan returned to his office after his staff meeting, and only blinked once at my sorry state before he willingly embraced me, holding me as I crumbled and sobbed in his arms. 

Fifteen minutes later and I had recovered enough to move to the chair across his desk. 

"Here, tea will help." 

I took the cup from Hagan with trembling hands. "Thank you, Godfather," I said quietly. 

"You're welcome, Princess." He chuckled, then moved to sit at his desk. "Fortunately, I had the foresight of keying you into the wards during your first visit." 

"When did you have time to do that?" I broke out of my funk enough to ask in surprise. 

He chuckled. "Your magic clings to the pendant you made. It was simple enough to scan your magical signature from it. Therefore, my staff will be unconcerned since you will be registered as a private guest." 

Heat rose on my face at the silent jab at my lack of conduct. 

I cleared my throat. "Apologies, godfather. I...was going through a rough time, and didn't have my usual support group to turn to." 

His expression turned grave, knowing eyes wet with regret. "I shouldn't have burdened you so quickly. The loss of your family was something that you needed to be eased into." 

I scoffed, disagreeing with that on so many levels. The truth hurt, but it was far better to suffer under it's weight than to life a life of ignorance. "Better to rip off the band-aid right away, than slowly peel it back and let me suffer." 

Hagan grimaced. "Not the expression I would've used, but I do understand your position." 

I sighed, before taking a sip, and contained my expression at the hot flavor. I lowered my cup. 

"So, what made you flee to me?" He asked tiredly. 

I bit my lip, looking down, ashamed. "I...had a fight with my friends." 

His brows shot up into the fringe of his hair, likely not expecting that from me. "Truly?" 

I sniffled. "I was...hurting. My coping mechanisms for dealing with grief weren't working. They said some insensitive things at the wrong time, and I...I lashed out." 

I bowed my head, hiding my face so I didn't have to see his disappointment. 

"Oh, Bloom." Hagan clicked his tongue. "There is nothing to be ashamed of. Fights among teenagers happen all the time." 

"I should be better," I growled lowly. "Petty childish arguments are something that I should know better than to indulge in." 

I've lived longer than Hagan, fought in more wars than him. I'm not a child anymore, that point in my life passed. As did my time as a lovesick teenager. 

"Who would demand such?" Hagan raised his brow again. "You are a teenager, if not a child." 

My expression told him that was the wrong thing to say, but Hagan didn't backtrack. "You have your whole life ahead of you. I fear that the expectations you have set for yourself are too high, especially considering your...unique circumstances." 

I didn't agree. If anything, they weren't high enough. Taking a deep breath, I laid out my reasons for why I had to focus on the path ahead. "I have yet to locate Domino, or even research a way to break the Ancestress's curse. I've lost years that I should've spent training my magic and communing with the Dragon Flame, and the only excuse that I can offer was that I fooled around with nonmagicals while living with the fear of fairy hunters finding me." 

I choked back another sob. I really am a pathetic blubbering mess. "The last thing I needed was...was to cause a major argument with my friends." 

He sighed, his gaze turning knowing and sympathetic. "You are young. Your powers are still maturing. Give yourself time. Arguments with friends will happen, but you must focus on what comes after that." 

I bit my lip, thinking of what cryptic messages the nymph in my dreams had said. I have to set down my teacup when my hands start trembling again. "I...don't know if I have time, godfather." 

He frowned at me. "Meaning?" 

I drummed my fingers on the desk, using the energy from my anxiety to do something more normal. "Do you remember when I said that I saw Domino's current state in my dreams?" 

Hagan flinched a little. "Yes." He leaned forward. "Do you intend to tell me?" 

"Yes." I nodded. "It was because of a nymph," I knew now how outrageous this sounded to an outsider after my discussion with the Winx. 

Hagan looked startled, but he caught on faster than I anticipated. "A nymph? As in, one of the nine?" 

I nodded. "Specifically Daphne, the supreme guardian nymph. She's been contacting me ever since I started really using my powers. Her calls at night became more frequent after I achieved my basic fairy form." 

He frowned. "You became more receptive to magic, and thus, her calls?" 

I nodded, biting my lip. 

"What does she say?" Hagan asked, looking more alert. 

"Something about me needing to go to Domino, to find her." I paused, then added, "Oh, and 'to remember'." 

"Odd." Hagan stroked his beard. "Very odd." He looked up. "You say that she has she been contacting you?"

"Yes. Consistently." I affirmed. "Weekly, actually, though less as of late." 

"Have you learned how to project memories yet?" He asked me. 

We can do that?? 

I blinked in surprise, then shook my head. "Uh no? I think that's advanced material, not something a freshman would be learning." 

"Ah," Hagan said, stroking his beard. "My mistake." 

"I have a photogram of her." I offered after another awkward silence. 

Hagan leaned forward, doing a terrible job of hiding his anticipation and eagerness. "May I?" 

I pulled out the holo-drive that Tecna lent me, and placed it in his wrinkled, strong hands. "Here." 

Hagan set it on the desk and activated it. 

A golden figure appeared within the image, a full 3D render. Her headdress, her mask, her curvy, tall frame. Her silk dress fell down, hiding her legs and heels. Her sash fell from both arms. Her hair grew outward in two elegant bunches, with her bangs pulled to the sides of her face. 

"Impossible." Hagan breathed in shock. "That--it can't--huh." His eyes narrowed as he looked at the hovering and slowly rotating image. "It cannot be." 

"What?" I wondered, leaning forward. "Do you know her?" 

"Know her?" Hagan looked like he wanted to snort, but refrained. "That's no nymph, Bloom." 

I was startled. "What do you mean? The Magi-Net had information on her and everything. Even Alfea's library had one or two things related to her." 

"But not on her." Hagan was sharp, he must've known about the cover-up. Shit, he'd want to know where I got my information. 

"Yes, that is correct." I ignored the sinking feeling in my stomach. 

Hagan sighed, pinching the skin between his eyes, looking as though he was bracing himself. "How did you come by this?" 

I bit my lip, wishing that I could melt into a puddle. "Uhhh, plausible deniability?" I tried. 

I squirmed under the might of Hagan's piercing stare. "I hope it was nothing...illegal." 

I hid my wince. Did Tecna's hack count as a crime? Probably. 

He sighed, rubbing his brow as he dropped this line of conversation. "Bloom, do you know what the nymphs are?" 

"Ghost that guarded things?" I shrugged. "Spirits with a purpose? Beautiful creatures who protect some sort of relic, power, or nature?" 

"Not quite." Hagan shook his head. "They're spirits who either have refused or cannot move on. They continue to exist, either because they are forced to, or because they have some goal that they have yet to complete." 

I froze, a spirit? Daphne was the spirits's name, what was her purpose? To guard the Dragon Flame? Or to protect something in Lake Roccaluce? Was it all just a big coincidence? 

"What purpose?" I asked hesitantly. 

"That is yet to be determined." Hagan frowned, then gestured to the device before me. "If I may ask, how did you come by this?"

"Tecna--a friend, one of my dorm mates--created it scanning psychic energy that was left after one of my dreams," I explained. "She made some algorithm thingy to make a 3D image...I think. I'm unsure. There was a lot of technobabble." 

Hagan couldn't contain his snort as he rose from his chair, and began to pace as I watched on nervously. "Psychic energy. But...for that..." he trailed off, as his eyes widened.

"Godfather?" I recognized his look, akin to Hermione when she realized something extremely important.

Hagan turned, looking me straight in the eyes. "The Nine Sacred Nymphs cannot contact just anyone, Bloom. As spirits, their spirits are strong, but their powers are diminished. A preserved memory of who they once were, a shade." 

Okay...that makes sense...

Seeing that I wasn't getting it, Hagan prodded. "They must have a link with them. A connection..." 

"A bond." I breathed out in shock, in realization. "But...I have no bonds." 

Hagan studied me. "You may not be certain." He said gently. "There is much you still have to learn, and feeling for the bonds that you share with others is one such thing." 

I shook my head firmly. "The only bonds I ever felt were the ones with my family. With Daphne, and Mari--Mother, and Ori--Father." I corrected upon seeing his look. 

He nodded. "Do you feel those bonds now? Are they intact?" 

Puzzled, I nodded. "Yes, but--" 

His eyes snapped to mine. "Not broken?" He asked, his voice filled with a surge of reverence and hope.

I shook my head in confusion. "Why, are they supposed to be broken when they die?"

He ignored my question, leaning backward into his seat, suddenly trembling. Surprise, grief, and astonishment flashed across his aged features. 

"Godfather?" I asked cautiously--had I just given him a stroke over something? What did I miss?

"Apologies, Bloom." Hagan straightened in his chair and brushed down his uniform. "I just had a...shock, is all."

"A shock?" I frowned, peering at him worriedly. "You looked like you were a few seconds away from a heart attack."

He winced at my bluntness, and I winced at myself. "That would...be a fair comparison, I suppose." His mouth curved upward. "Though I hope I can live a few more years without heart failure."

"Hagan!" I squeaked, restraining the urge to smack his arm. "Don't say that!"

He chuckled. "You acted like your mother then, but have your father's restraint. Marion would've slapped me for my quip."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "I can if you want."

He threw his head back with laughter and sorrow. "That silver tongue is both your parents'." He chuckled, wiping a tear. "The amount of trouble we got in."

I cleared my throat, bringing him back to the present. "What were you saying about the nymph?"

"Ah, yes." He had a strange look on his face. "Bloom, can you feel for your bonds right now?"

"Yeah...why?" I didn't see what my bonds had to do with the...wait a second.

I felt for the links I had to my blood family. All of them were dark. 

"What does it feel like?" He asks.

I stared at him, puzzled. "Cold? Lacking feeling?"

He shakes his head. "Not quite. You are merely brushing the bond's end, not feeling the bond itself."

Confused, I look at him. "What's the difference?"

Hagan takes a deep breath. "This nymph contacts you in your sleep. This nymph shares your sister's name. Feel for her."

Okay?

I try to do as he has instructed, feeling for the ends of my connection to the nymph...and I'm led back to the bonds. Or rather, a specific bond.

I found my bond with Daphne and prodded it hesitantly. There was no warmth or reaction; at least that I could tell.

Frowning in my mindscape, I press against it deeper, touching the connection itself. I gasp. It was slightly warm.

"It's warm." I breathed, then looked at him in confusion. "But a spirit is a ghost right? A dead soul that hasn't moved on?" 

At least, that's what I knew from Death. He had rather...destructive rants about the deceased when it came to souls that lingered beyond his reach for extended periods of time. 

"It depends on the 'death'," Hagan replied as he pulled back his seat and pulled out an old photobook from the shelf behind him.

"A spirit would technically be dead, thus, magic would nullify the bonds you share with your family." He set it down on the desk with a quiet 'thunk', dust rising up like a cloud.

Coughing, we waved it away before he peeled open the book, settling on a specific page.

"That's--not possible." I breathed, staring at the lifelike replica of Daphne the nymph.

But...

She's corporeal--her body that of a beautiful teenager nearing her prime. Her dress is golden, and the sashes are decorative accessories. Her hair is held up in an elaborate headdress, dividing her hair into two bunches, and pulling her bangs apart. Cyan-blue eyes shine brightly behind a golden mask that hides a soft button nose, along with pale pink lips pulled into a gorgeous smile. Flawless fair skin, and aristocratic cheekbones that I saw every single time I looked in the mirror.

Impossible. There's no way. 

"Is--is that--" 

"Daphne. Your sister." Hagan confirms. 

I shut my eyes tightly, suddenly aware of the burning feeling in my chest. Air. I need air. 

I breathe out, aware that I'm panicking--no, having a panic attack. It repeats itself like a mantra in my head, and I'm taking gulps of air like a starved fish to water. 

It's stuck in my head, the realization, my denial, playing like a sick loop in my brain and I can't shut it off. My guilt, my hurt, my out-of-control magic. 

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck! 

Uhh, quick, five things I can see. My hands, Hagan, the book, the photogram, and his desk. 

Four things I can touch, um. The desk, my skirt, the book, and the Project Hard-LITE disk. 

Three things I can smell--okay, right? My shampoo, Hagan's clothes, and the desk. 

"Are you alright?" Hagan moves toward me, concerned at how I'm leaning heavily on his desk. "M' fine," I mumbled, feeling my heartbeat fall back to safer levels. 

Merlin, and I'd gone and broken my streak. I hadn't had a panic attack since my last life, but there were a few close calls in this one.

My breathing slows, and I stare at the image.

But now, something else is rising. 

Anger. 

"You said that she died." I hissed. 

He winced. "For years, I believed so," Hagan replied. Waving his hand at the photo in the book, and at the photogram. "This...this proves otherwise."

"But--" I shook my head in shock, in disbelief, in denial. Anger filled me, and I had to restrain my inner flame from lashing out.

My tone fills with ice, a stark contrast to the visible heat of my aura. "Then..." I trailed off, frustrated and angry. "Why are you claiming that she is now alive? Dammit, Godfather! You're not making any sense. You said that she died." 

"She did." Hagan looked remorseful, either for the lie or because of the circumstance. "I saw her body myself."

It took serious mental strength, but I managed to prevent myself from slamming a flame-enhanced fist into his desk. He doesn't shrink under my enraged glare either. "Then...how. How is this possible?" 

"Daphne is more than just a fairy, princess." He addressed me. 

I gaped.  "You cannot be insinuating what I think you are." 

"Why not?" He asked me. 

"Because--because--well...I--you just can't." I shook my head in denial. 

"Daphne isn't just a fairy, Bloom," Hagan said heavily. "She is half-nymph, as are all fairies of Domino."

'WHAT!' My eyes widened, before my jaw dropped. 'I'm half nymph?!?!?' 

"But...nymphs are different from fairies." I protested, throwing my hands up in exasperation. "They're completely different creatures!" 

Hagan chuckled. "Perhaps, according to Earthen's lore. But this is not Earth, this is the Magix Dimension. There are such things as cross-species, you know."

Understanding dawned on me, and I realized just how much I still confused my past life with this one.

"Oh," I said dumbly, the realization that I'd been ignoring my undead sister sending me for a loop of insanity. 

Hagan watched as I experienced the whiplash of my emotions. I'm stunned still as I shoot between grief-hate-rage-anger-regret-fear-hope-rage-hope. 

"But--But...how!" I think he's made me short-circuit my brain. "I hear her dying scream! How could she have survived the witches?" 

Hagan looked grim. "Bloom, she didn't." 

I waved my hand, focused on the more important problem. "I know." I swallowed back the pained screech I yearned to unleash every time I spoke or hear that my own flesh and blood was dead--again. I clarified, "How did her spirit survive?" 

Hagan looked like he aged another two decades. "She didn't. If her spirit remains, but her body decays, then she must be bound to existence against her will." 

"A curse." I gasped, coming to the conclusion Hagan likely had the moment he learned of Daphne. "She's cursed?" 

I cupped my hand over my mouth, aware of my weak, trembling tone. 

I wanted to scream, mentally reconfiguring how this was going to set me back, and what I needed to do to rearrange my priorities. If Daphne is out there...and is alive, I will find her. I will save her soul. I will bring her home, or...peace (although the latter would make me cry). 

"I need to get to Domino." I decided firmly. 

Hagan was startled. "Why there?" 

"Because that's where she's calling me from," I said, the puzzle pieces clicking together. I shifted as I felt the Dragon Flame keen in agreement. 

Hagan frowned, worry lines creasing his brow. "Bloom...there is no way to get to Domino. Not anymore." 

I gave him my hardest stare. "What do you mean, exactly?" I ask with a head tilt at the end of my question, making this seem more like an interrogation. 

If Hagan is affected by my Hit-Wizard tactics, he doesn't show it. "In their infinite wisdom--", oh yes, he's definitely bitter and has opinions about them, "--the Council of Light ordered that all portals to Domino be sealed off, to prevent the curse that impacted their planet from reaching out and corrupting other worlds." 

I opened and closed my mouth before I burst. "That's so stupid!" Hagan raised his brow at my outburst, and I flushed red. "Apologies." 

He sighed, "It is understandable, considering your position, Princess. You have every right to be mad, to rage at the world that failed you before you were allowed the chance to live. Whose mistakes you will likely pay for for a long time." 

I shivered at the title, feeling the power it held over me, as well as the pleased rumble the Dragon Flame gave when Hagan addressed me. 

But still...he blamed himself. It wasn't his fault. 

"You didn't fail me," I said softly, meeting his eyes. "The generations who came before me did what they could. Even if I could've fought alongside you all, I doubt I could've made a difference for the fates of most." 

Hagan snorts. "Keeper of the Dragon Flame she is, and claims that she could do so little. The Dragon Flame gives you access to abilities the rest of us could only dream of." 

I flushed pink, okay, I might've understated my abilities a little. A lot. 

He chuckled at my embarrassment, then glanced at another photo in the book. I followed his gaze and gasped as I realized that it was a royal couple. 

Fiery red hair held in an elaborate headdress with striking brown eyes. The chrome sheen of a knight's helmet rested atop the head of a man whose cyan-blue eyes practically glowed with intensity. 

I forced my jaw to unhinge as more painful emotions swept through me. "Is that...are they...?" 

Hagan smiled sorrowfully. "Your birth parents, yes. They would be proud to see the fledging young woman that you've become. And they would certainly approve of your...bluntness." 

I blinked in surprise. Considering the reaction of everyone in my school, that wasn't the response I'd been expecting. "Wait, really?" 

"The Kingdom of Sparx was held to a higher standard than any other kingdom." Hagan's tone shifted to his 'lecture mode'. I found that it gave him more of an uncle vibe. "They held their secrets close, but I was privileged to witness many of your people learn how to defend themselves from an early age." 

"Their kingdom possessed a power that was revered, feared, and desired by many from every realm both heard and unheard of. So, they learned to fight. They had a drive to master as many forms of fighting as possible." He waved an imaginary sword. "And they were the sole realm that sacrificed their dignity to fight as dirty as they dared. Words, weapons, armor, even truths. They stated what was on their minds, they held no regrets over what was said. They despised lies, and upheld truths. It was common for them to question existing truths as well." 

"Wow." I breathed in awe. I liked the sound of my people the more I learned. "Will you tell me more, Godfather?" 

"No, not today," Hagan said, and I sagged a little in disappointment. 

"May I ask why?" I inquired. 

Hagan smiled. "The day is waning, and I believe that you have friendships to mend, Princess. Nothing is more treasured than the bonds of those we hold close to us." 

I stiffened at the reminder that I'd fled from the Winx after blowing up at them. His mention of bonds also reminded me of the open wound that was my sister. "I...know. I will, make amends." 

Hagan gave me a piercing look. "If you fear your friends, are they truly your's?" 

I hesitated. "It's not that...they're not my friends. They...they are. I just..." I trailed off, uncertain of how to put my nauseating storm of emotions into words. "I can't find myself able to trust them with my heritage. The weight of secrecy is mine to bear, and yet, they are aware of its existence, just not the fine print." 

His gaze turned sharp. "Your identity as the last princess of Domino." He hummed, then muttered to himself (though I heard it), "Yes, I can see why you would fear such knowledge being spread." 

Hagan shook his head, then pushed up from his chair using his knuckles and took my hand. "I apologize, Bloom. You carry scars from your escape." 

I flinched, he hit the sore spot right on the nose. Scarily accurate, knowing what I feared, and the cause of it. "Can you blame me?" I ask weakly. 

"No." He shook his head, somehow sounding and looking bitter, but nowhere as depressed and broken as he had when I found him. He did look better overall, but I guess when you learn that the last link of your friends is alive and is reaching out to you, you will feel better. "You are wise to fear the Ancestresses. Their evil is something that will leave scars that will take eons to heal, even after you and I are gone." 

He hesitated, then added gently. "But you should not fear them, fear their capabilities, yes. But by letting your fear of them take hold of you, you give them far more power than they deserve." 

"Or haven't already stolen like common thieves." I hissed, the Dragon Flame mournfully growling inside me for all of the magics and realms that had been lost before I had been (re)born. 

"That too." He nodded, looking angered for a moment before breathing heavily. "I have acquired a cell number. You can use it, to contact me." 

His lips curved upwards with amusement. "As all your generation loves to do." 

I mock-scowled at him, but gratefully accepted the slip of paper that contained his number. "I'll add it when I get back home," I promised, glad that we now had a more permanent and far easier method of communication. 

He nodded, then hesitated again. His eyes searched my face. "Bloom, on the subject of your sister, I ask that you do not go looking for Domino, and her by extension." 

I flinched back, hurt that he would ask such a thing. "Why?!?" 

He sighed. "Because, when the Ancestral Witches placed their curse on Domino, they didn't just curse that world, they corrupted the very fabric that holds it together." 

I froze, remembering our discussion about magic sources, their connection to their realms, and the Dragon Flame's unique connection to Domino as its source. "What do you mean?" I asked in a weak whisper, my knees shaking even though I had no weight upon them. 

"All worlds are inherently Light," Hagan explained in a resigned tone. "But, there are creatures of the Dark that cannot cross into the light, imprisoned within eternal shadow. The Great Dragon ensured that even during night, there would still be light. But when the Ancestresses cursed that world, they corrupted the very barriers that prevented those beings that should never see the light of day from marching upon Domino." 

My eyes widened, now understanding what he meant when he said that no matter the amount of soldiers they had, it was always a slaughter. 

A beep on his desk drew our attention. 

Hagan sighed, glaring at it for a moment. "It will soon be the evening dinner." 

I blanched, already? How is it that my visits with him (even though it was only two, I was starting to see a pattern) saw entire hours fly by? 

"My apologies, Bloom." Hagan sighed again. "I must return to work." 

I pushed up from my chair, ignoring the haze of emotions swirling inside me. This trip had been comforting, painful, and reassuring, all in one go. 

I can't abandon Daphne, not if her spirit is still out there, somewhere. 

Neither can I bring up the topic and ask him about weapons and becoming an apprentice of sorts. That will have to wait until next time. 

For now...I have to return and apologize to my friends. Tecna and Musa, even if they poked fun at me, didn't deserve my hurtful words. Neither did Stella or Flora, who had taken my side. 

Merlin, I'm such a rotten bitch. 

"I understand, Godfather," I said, unable to hide all of the disappointment and bitterness from my voice. 

Hagan nodded solemnly, then I was pulled into what could only be called a bear hug by the blacksmith. 

I clung to his strong frame, trying my best not to cry again. Merlin knows I've done enough of that to last a lifetime. 

"Be strong, Daughter of the Fire," Hagan murmured. Then he added, "I will scournge around, and see if I cannot compile a small book of photos of your family. You deserve to have a piece of them close--closer than I." 

Love and hope fluttered in my breast. "Thank you, Godfather." I beamed at him, my chest hurting with the weight that had been lifted from my shoulders. 

I doubt that he has any idea how much that offer alone means to me. 

He smiled. "May the Dragon watch over you." 

I returned the phrase, then glanced at the open window. In a flash of swirling fire and volatile magic, I was back in my fairy form, with sparkling blue fabric, wings, and gold. My aura settled around me like a nova of power. 

"Farewell, Godfather," I said formally, practicing my etiquette. 

"Farewell, Princess." Hagan smiled in approval. 

I looked at him once last time, then took off, heading back for home. I stood out against the landscape a shining orange glow intermixed with sparkling blue, speckles of gold, and fiery hair. 

The wind rustled through my hair and beat against my face. My wings fluttered at crazy levels of speed. My miniskirt danced a little in the sudden breeze. 

As I drew closer to the portal, I moved in, my heeled boots touching the ground first, and then I stopped flapping as gravity took back over. 

I walked through the portal confidently and came out on the other side in Gloomy Wood Forest. 

I glanced around the dark trees and decided that I'd walk part of the way back. I needed to figure out my apologies, and not go with any impulsive thoughts. These were my friends that I'd hurt, and I would do my best to think over what needed to be said, and how much groveling I'd expect to do. 

It was only right, after all. 

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In another region of Magix, high in the air where the winds were far more rebellious and near-suicidal to be around, the Trix stood at the very top of Cloud Tower's tallest tower for their final, and most humiliating detention. 

Beatrix growled out, "This has to be our worst punishment yet." 

Isobel privately thought that she didn't have the right to complain as much as she did. Their sister was the one on the ladder attempting to clean the weather vane without magic. That was truly the worst part about this punishment; the lack of magic use. 

That, and the entire school knowing about their punishment. 

"I will never live this down," Beatrix growled. 

"How about you focus less on whining and more on holding!" D'arcy shouted over the high winds. "Any second I'm likely to get blown off!" 

"Not on my watch." Beatrix's insanity flashed in her expression for a second, something that allowed Stormy to shine through the unstable witch. 

Isobel scowled. "Maid's work. So demeaning." 

"It would help if you two would hold this steady!" D'arcy snapped when the ladder swayed again, and she tightly gripped it, holding on for dear life. 

Had they simply been allowed to fly around, they could've been done in five minutes. But no, Griffin was the worst kind of bitch, and used humiliation to make lessons sink in. 

Something that the Trix believed themselves immune to once they achieved their standing, but now, they knew better. Not even they were safe from her ire. 

Even once they re-established themselves (and they would), they would still have to walk on eggshells around the headmistress. 

D'arcy rubbed the rag over the weather vane as hard as she dared. The thing was volatile enough without her needless scraping. The last thing she needed was for it to draw in a lightning spike when she was touching it. 

Fortunately, Beatrix was on alert, able to sense them moments before they happened. 

"These things are chipping my nails," D'arcy whined. 

"Deal with it, D." Isobel's frigid tone wafted up to her ears. "We're not going to cry over spilled milk like fairies." 

D'arcy scowled down. Her cuts were healed, but her anger still simmered. "Like you don't put the same amount of time and care into your beauty as I do." 

Isobel sneered, but it lacked her usual bite. 

Beatrix let go of the ladder at the same time that a strong gust of wind slammed into the tower. 

"Hey--would you hold--it TIGHTER!" D'arcy's complaint became a scream as she, her bucket, and the ladder fell to the left. "Hey! Get me down!" 

The dirty and soapy water in the bucket splashed onto the small balcony, and all over Beatrix, who yelped in surprise, then anger. "My clothes! This filth will take ages to get out!" 

"Sister, that filth is just soapy water." Isobel's tone lacked pity. "But keep your distance all the same. I don't feel like getting wet." 

"Do you want to scrub dirty water from your skin?" Beatrix snarled. 

"Just shut up, and give me a hand--" Isobel cut off, when D'arcy shrieked as her fingers slipped, and she desperately tried to grip the slippery slope of the roof, but was unable to get any grip. Her eyes widened, she was nearing the edge, and if she used magic, one of Griffin's spies would snitch, and they'd get something even more humiliating. 

"D'arcy!" Isobel yelled in surprise, reaching out impulsively, but unable to grab her. 

Beatrix spun when she heard her sister's panicked shout, then summoned a storm cloud under her own power that effectively blew D'arcy over the edge, but back in their direction. 

"Got you!" Beatrix's expression was twisted in victory, floating her sister over to her, the remnants of the windstorm she summoned dying down, back to natural levels. 

"You're going to get us in more trouble," Isobel commented but didn't sound upset. 

"Screw Griffin," Beatrix knashed her teeth. "I don't see her sticking her neck out here, and the coven comes first. She can go to hell." 

Isobel nodded approvingly. 

"Set me down!" D'arcy demanded; as she was still hovering several feet above. 

"Oh, right." Beatrix released her power, and D'arcy fell on her ass. "Ouch!" She hissed in pain, since she landed on the side of her butt. "You snake! You did that on purpose." 

"Oh hush, D." Isobel snarked, arms crossed. "Just be grateful that you're alive." 

"It would have been a nasty--" Beatrix cut off as another air current swept past the tower, but this time there was something off...or rather, odd, in the air. 

D'arcy was still rubbing her sore bum as she got to her feet. "Nasty what? Fall?" 

When Beatrix didn't respond immediately or use sarcasm, Isobel took notice. "What is it, sister?" 

Beatrix frowned, taking hold of the winds again to preserve the smell for her to sniff, her predatorial instincts taking over. "There's something familiar...in the air. A fragrance...something that I've smelt before." 

Isobel and D'arcy exchanged a confused look. 

"What do you smell, exactly?" D'arcy asked, already coming up with plausible conclusions. 

Beatrix was sometimes more beast than woman, due to her upbringing with Marc Wolves. She had many of the instincts that alphas prized, and one of those was her enhanced sense of smell. 

Much like her ability to navigate with ease (she had maps of star charts in her dresser), Beatrix could also isolate and identify scents easily. Once she met someone, she remembered their unique scent. 

If she was picking up a different scent than one that she commonly was around--Cloud Tower's staff and students--it could be any number of people they've interacted with or battled against in Magix City. 

But for her to pick up a scent here? Is this close to Cloud Tower? The place where residents of this realm intentionally went out of their way to avoid? Who could be so foolish (or ignorant), as to willingly pass through here? 

Beatrix sniffed the air again, then her eyes widened. She spoke at the same time D'arcy mouthed the name of their current target. "Bloom." 

Isobel's eyes widened a little before they narrowed. The drum of anticipation and victory beat in her breast. "Where is she?" 

Beatrix sniffed the air again. "She's close, very close. And...flying." 

D'arcy turned to her coven sisters, hungry for revenge. "If she's alone, now is our chance for revenge." 

"Yesss." Isobel purred her desire for vengeance empowering her magic, manifesting their auras. "Now is the time to remove the last obstacle in our path." 

Beatrix clenched her fist, lighting dancing on her fingertips. "This time, we'll ensure that she has no friends to save her." 

"And without their precious leader, the Winx will be easy to defeat," D'arcy smirked evilly. "Then, Princess Soleil will fall, and the Scepter of Solaria will be ours!" 

"And with it the Dragon Flame!" Isobel hissed with glee. 

The three witches burst into mad cackles of laughter before three malicious glows of icy blue, dark purple, and blue-purple-magenta light flared at the top of the tallest of the winding, twisted towers. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I'd finished my plan. I'd sneak into Alfea's kitchen first, and bake them apology snickerdoodle cookies. Not even my own sister can resist them, that's how good they are. 

Second, I'm going to apologize, and explain why I lashed out. They need to know why, I know that I would. I just hope that they won't be too resentful of me, but I'm internally bracing for the next couple of days of isolation. 

Something that Hogwarts taught me well; when they don't like you or are upset with you, they'll shun you. I know now that's not how things really are, it's just teenagers acting out and being mean, but I don't know any better sometimes. 

Merlin, I really am a pessimist. 

My wings flutter and the warmth of my magic dances around me, almost possessive as it clings close to my skin, a trail of fiery sparkles left in my wake. 

The sky is blue, the clouds rumble in the distance, the silence from Gloomy Wood is alienating, yet comforting. 

It allowed me to be alone in my thoughts, and now, the silence is only broken by the sound of the rushing winds and...thunder? 

I pause in my flight, hovering as I glance warily at the distance clouds that are always around Cloud Tower, the massive structure like a looming fortress in the distance, a towering bastion of darkness, with thunderstorms raging around it. 

I shivered, noticing how dark the sky was becoming. Odd, but not exactly unexpected. 

This area, around the portal that led to Hoggar was south of Cloud Tower, near the dark looming mountains, upon the closest the school for witches was based out on. The storm clouds had a tendency to expand a little, then retreat, almost like breathing. 

According to my research prior to my trips here, storms like this were not uncommon, but none of the accounts that I've read have suggested that they form so quickly. 

Almost like there was a driving force behind it's formation. Magic, or someone--

Pain explodes in my bare abdomen, lightning dancing over my skin and petrifying me. The sudden lightning blast knocked me out of the sky and into the dirt. 

I grunt when my back collides against the hard ground, wings twitching irritably from being flattened. 

"Oh, I'm going to feel that tomorrow." I groaned, feeling my back muscles protest as I pulled myself onto all fours, then up to my knees. 

Looking up reveals the culprits behind the rogue lightning bolt. My heart sinks. 

So much for the hope that it was just a random lightning strike cultivated by bad luck. Then again, this would be worse. 

"Shit," I mutter as I stumble to my feet, glaring up at the three floating witches, each with their own auras, more prominent than the last time we fought. 

"Shit indeed, pixie." Icy addressed me with her usual frosty demeanor. "That is what you just ate." 

"What do you want?" I demanded, angered by their random attack. Well, not random, it was no coincidence that they were here in the same area of the Gloomy Wood as I. 

I paled. 

Wait, how long ago did they see me? Were they tracking me? Following me? Could they have known about myself and Hagan? How much did they know? How much did they overhear?  

"We want many things." Darcy sniffed, her brunette locks billowing in the wind. 

My wings twitch as I take steps back, preparing to take flight. 

"Such as?" I prod, stalling them as much as I can. 

"Oh, just a certain ring, which you've been keeping from us for months!" Stormy snarled, looking rather insane today. I guess that's what happens when you don't use Sleekeazy on that greying frizz. 

"Sorry, but I'm not in the habit of letting anyone steal from my friends." I retort as I shoot into the sky, now hovering across from them. 

Icy sneered. "Too bad, junior fairy. We're going to take what we want, like it or not." 

"I don't think so." My fist clenched and surrounded itself with fire, I was not about to let them go after Stella again. 

"No?" Darcy sniggered. "What are you going to do? Stop us?" 

"Yes!" I snapped impulsively, unaware that they had been waiting for this answer. 

"Well, little pixie, we can't have you interfering with our plans anymore." Icy sighed dramatically, as though this was a great travesty. 

Warning bells were going off in my head, and my eyes widened as I realized the foolishness of my actions. I'd effectively isolated myself with the argument this morning, and I'd left the safety of Alfea. And now, I was within their range. 

Alone, and outnumbered. 

Fuck me. 

The Dragon Flame roared within my breast, giving me a new surge of courage. I plastered a brave expression on my face, glaring heatedly at the three witches, whose negative energy emanated from them like slimy, oily tendrils in the air. 

"What, are you going to beg for me to back off?" I taunted them as I rose to my feet. 

Stormy's angry expression shattered as she snarled. "To hell with this!" 

Ignoring her sister's warnings, she hurled a stream of lightning at me. 

I leapt to the side, rolling away from the impoding ground that had previously been beneath my feet. Dirt and grass flew through the air. 

I winced--that would not have been fun to get hit by. The Trix weren't messing around either, it seemed that they too had been holding back. 

Stormy hurled more lightning, but this time my wings fluttered--and I soared above the second lightning strike. She grew angrier and angrier as she kept missing, hurling more bluish-violet streams of crackling energy that I narrowly dodged--getting better and better as her concentration slipped more and more. 

At this point, it was child's play to dodge--her attack was predictable and required line-of-sight accuracy, something which was compromised by her animalistic fury. 

"Frothing already?" I taunted some more. "How about we spice things up!" 

Fireballs the size of dodgeballs appeared in my hands. I flew higher, before hurling them, only for the Trix to dodge--even Stormy. 

Fine then. 

I created and hurled more, balls of fire exploding against trees instead of witches. 

Double fuck, if Flora doesn't kill me for this then Gaia definitely will. 

Narrowing my eyes, I avoided a psionic attack before hurling fireballs one after another--my anger growing and my heart sinking as every blast seemed to miss them by an inch. 

I really need more target practice in Griselda's class. Hitting flying targets is less fun, and far harder than it looks. Even worse when you're in a life-or-death situation that depends on your aim! 

My wings beat as I ascended higher, hoping to trick them into rushing me and eating fire for their efforts. 

To my annoyance, they seemed content to drift below me, hovering around like sharks waiting for their prey. 

"What's the matter?" I taunted. "Afraid of a little wind?" 

Orbs of darkness flew at me a second later, and I dodged those too. 

Icy's glare somehow became frostier--apparently now deciding to get involved. "Stay still pixie!" She yelled at me as she held out her hand, a whirlwind of ice and frost flying at my face. 

My wings beat faster as I shot above, and was struck with a beam of dark energy, courtesy of Darcy. I was just fortunate not to be on the ground, so she couldn't use her illusions to trick me, since I still wasn't strong enough to see through them. 

I arched through the air, then summoned my flames to my fists, but continued to let them build until they were the size of medium-sized boxes (but more rounded). 

The Trix's eyes grew wide as I fed more power into my hands. 

"Impossible!" Stormy exclaimed. "No one can hold that much power in their hands!" 

"Says you!" I countered smugly, before unleashing twin flamethrowers of searing heat that the Trix failed to completely dodge. 

What I didn't expect was this: 

"Dark magic convergence!" They hissed in unison, a shield comprised of all three powers forming around them. 

I increased my power--hoping to take them out with one blow--and watched as the flames billowing from my fingertips burned brighter. 

It didn't take long before I felt their magic buckle under the impact of my power--their shield starting to crack. 

Then, the shield was launched straight at me, slamming into me with the full force of a baseball in a home run. 

"AH!" I hissed, feeling my hands swell--possibly something was broken too. 

The Dragon Flame's power surged through me, and I guided the healing properties that he generated into my hand. A soft orange glow enveloped my whole appendage before dying down--oh thank fuck, that felt so much better. 

My distraction had allowed them to regroup, and the Trix unleashed several attacks, forcing me to keep on flipping in the air, dodging, and unable to turn and fight without getting struck by one of their spells. 

I ducked down into the trees, hearing their spells take effect behind me. 

I soared up, the wind whistling in my ears and blowing loudly on my face. I finally arched down, screaming, "Lava Flume!" 

Heat exploded from my body downward, and I was rewarded with screeches of pain and soft wails filled the air, like a broken melody. 

I cut back on my power, but still held it ready, the Flame eagerly awaiting my command. 

When the smoke cleared, I saw my enemies, and their sorry state. 

Stormy's frizzy hair had smoke coming off of it, and Darcy was frantically patting herself down to smother the flames that were trying to eat away her purple catsuit. Icy had been caught in the middle and was covered in reddening and peeling skin, not to mention her clothes were blackened and cacked in soot. 

I stared in shock at Icy's wounds--I hadn't meant to maim them!--then in disappointment. I hadn't even blown them out of the sky! 

"You...you!" Whitish-blue irises narrowed into furious cat-like slits. "I'm going to blast you into an atom!" Icy screeched, her eyes shining with hate. 

"Fuck me," I muttered in dismay as whitish-blue light gathered around her body, like the inside of Godzilla's mouth before he unleashed his radiated lightning breath. 

Frost and ice exploded outward in every direction, coating the trees in a heavy blanket of snow. I screeched as I was blown back by the furious icy gale. 

Snow and ice surrounded me, forming a meteor that dragged me down to sodden earth with an ear-splitting 'CRASH'. 

I groaned in pain, my body numbed and tired, feeling weak from the ice's proximity to me. "Ice," I mumbled to myself as I struggled to melt it off of my body, my body shining orange as the Dragon Flame allowed me to use more of his power. "Why'd it have to be ice?" 

Steam hissed, frozen water turning into droplets that hissed into vapor around me. 

It was at this point that Icy fled down, laughing at my predicament. "Too cold for you, pixie?" 

"What do you think, Trixie?" I mocked, my wings becoming a blur as I launched myself off the ground into the sky. 

Darcy and Stormy hovered to flank Icy, but left enough space that they could scatter if I attacked again. 

Dammit! 

When Icy opened her cape and unleashed a storm of ice daggers, I decided to counter them with my own. 

"Flaming Steel!" I shout; my magic forming dozens of daggers behind me, flanking my position. 

Icy freezes in surprise, eyes wide as I direct them forward, and the daggers slam into the ice spikes, turning them to harmless steam upon impact. 

"You--you beat another spell!" She said, sounding a mix of shocked and angered. 

"How do you keep doing this?" Darcy demanded in outrage, since Icy was too busy choking on her rage, too astounded at another spell being countered so easily, and Stormy was frothing from the edges of her mouth in animalistic rage. 

The grin I gave her was all Marauder. If I had a top hat, I'd be tipping it to her right now. "Family spell, tough luck, bitch." 

"That's it! Prepare to be blown away, fairy! Twister!" Stormy conjured a tornado directly in my path. 

Smirking, I dove into it and proceeded to suck out all of its heat. As the winds died down and the cone collapsed, a storm of raw, negative energy slammed into my body and sent me flipping through the air, my wings beating rapidly as I waved my hands around wildly, trying to reorient myself. 

'CRRSH!'

'CRACK!' 

'CKRK!'

'CRRSSRSSH!'

I hissed in pain, my arms, thighs, and gut bleeding in several places from where tree branches collided with my body. Everything hurt, my nerves numbed and tingled from the negative energy that hung around me like an ugly cloud. 

If I didn't have super-healing abilities, courtesy of the Dragon Flame, I would probably have a few broken bones. As it was, I think a few ribs were bruised, and the bones in my right hand were definitely cracked again. 

Oh joy, Ofelia's going to have a field day when she gets her hands on me. Probably is going to make good on her threat to finish me off when I return with more injuries. 

The thought was morbid and startling enough for me to realize how grim the situation was. I needed to stall them long enough to hit them all with another fire beam spell. The only issue is that now they're attacking me from all sides instead of hovering together. 

Before I could plan such a maneuver, I was blasted into the ground again, this time by Darcy. 

I shoved a clump of dirt off my shoulder and brushed some more off my miniskirt before I rose, ignoring my bleeding lip. 

"You don't look so good, pixie." Icy's tone could have frozen a ballroom, it was that cold and uncaring. 

"Funny. I was about to say the same." I smirked up at them. "You three look like you walked out of a goth stripper's club. Dance naked on any poles lately?" 

They didn't understand what the first crack meant, but they clearly knew what the latter two were, as all their faces screwed up in anger. 

Me and my big mouth. 

I yelped as beams of ice, lighting, and darkness were hurled and aimed at me for about a minute. 

I rather (un)gracefully dodged, arching, and spinning out of the way of vicious attacks that would hurt if they hit. They didn't stop coming either, I'd really ticked off the Trix this time. Every spell missed me by a hair's breath, and some had come so close that I'd faltered mid-flight, coming lower and lower to the ground. 

Theoretically, I could flee to Alfea, but after I ran my mouth, there was no guarantee that the Trix would stop their pursuit. I'd have to take them down, on my own. 

I gulped at the idea since I'd never successfully beaten them alone before. I had only managed to roughen them up, then the Winx would exhaust them so that by the time I was back on my feet, I could end the battle. 

"Next time I'm feeling bitchy, I won't take it out on the girls," I muttered to myself as I dove back beneath the leaves, the tree above getting burned before a massive chunk of ice appeared around it, encasing it. 

I sped into the forest, cursing my sudden pathing, which took me further away from Alfea and closer to Cloud Tower. 

The Trix pursued, hurling magic at me, uncaring about the damage they were dealing to the surrounding area as long as they were able to hit me. 

I swapped between the trees, making their shots go wide. 

"It's useless to run, pixie! There's nowhere for you to go! You won't escape us this time!" Icy shouted behind me, and I shivered at the almost hungry pitch of her voice. 

Darkness touched trees, leaves, and grass, which started to kill them, the grey-borderline-dark-magic sucking up the plant's magic and slowly forcing them into unhealthy and unnatural states of decay. 

Ice petrified the grass into clusters, no longer able to sway, imprisoned in their last motion. More ice-coated trees, sometimes striking multiple in their wake. 

I dove around a tree, avoiding another lightning bolt, which caused a tree to explode into flames. 

Glaring back at them, I reached out and smothered them before they could do any more damage. 

"Gaia, protect the green." I requested to the air--something I should've done a while ago. 

Within moments of my request, the air felt heavier, and the magic felt...richer. Something brushed against my shields, not trying to force their entry, but to assure me of its presence. She was here--Gaia was watching. 

Her presence filled with hope; I wasn't alone, not anymore. 

I was ripped from my thoughts when a blast of ice caught me from behind and knocked me out of the sky. 

Sky and ground became a blur as I slammed into the dirt and kept rolling, barely able to stop my cry of pain as my wings were pressed into positions that they shouldn't be. 

Finally, mercifully, my body collided with the side of a tree and I slumped to the ground. 

Groaning in pain, my vision slightly hazy, I saw the Trix hover over me, laughing madly. 

"It's over, Bloom." Icy sneered. 

"There's nowhere left to run," Darcy added as she shoved her brunette locks to the side of her face. 

"It's time to finish you off!" Stormy finished, her hands glowing with balls of lightning. 

I pushed myself up, my body straining from the abuse that it was put through. 

I could feel every bruise, every cracked rib and bone that was broken. My hip was in agony--definitely busted. It hurt to breathe--hopefully I don't have another punctured lung. 

My torso and skirt were matted with blood--my blood. My wings weakly fluttered, but I doubted that I'd be able to take flight for another minute or so, not with how numb they were. My healing only worked so fast. 

I glared defiantly up at them, striking as I took note of their injuries. 

Stormy's hair wasn't smoldering, but she definitely had a lot less on the right side than on her left. 

Darcy looked fine, and I couldn't help but wonder if that was an illusion or not. I was knee-deep in the dirt. 

Icy shifted uncomfortably even as they hovered in the air, and I knew that I'd been able to hurt them, even if I hadn't beaten them. 

Third-degree burns are painful, I'd experienced them multiple times as Harry Potter. Blackened clothes and skin, some parts (like her arms, neck, and parts of Icy's face) were red and raw, the skin peeling in some areas. I could sense the heat on them, clinging to her wounds like dark magic to cursed objects. 

Of the three, Icy seemed to be affected the worst. Obviously, because she'd been hit with one of the more powerful spells from the Dragon Grimoire, but also because we were polar opposites. 

Still hadn't stopped them from pounding me into the ground. 

"It's over, little pixie." Stormy snarled, the smoke coming off of her hair and catsuit looking rather ironic with her frizzy grey hair and the lightning dancing around her body like she just got electrocuted cartoon-style. 

"Do you ever stop sounding like a broken record?" I grit my teeth as I musted up my strength, healed enough from my battering that I could rise to my knee and not wince. 

My magic gathered around my wrist, then extended out past my hand, enveloping it as flames launched forward, the Dragon Flame allowing me to guide its shape and form into a wall of destructive energy, and a shield. 

"You don't know when to give up, do you?" Darcy clicked her tongue, sounding annoyed. 

"Don't you think you've tired yourself out yet?" Icy mocked. A surge of anger swept through me. "You've spent too much energy trying to stop us. But know that we'll get the ring, you can't prevent us from achieving our goals." 

"You will try. You will fail." I said, intentionally making it sound like a promise. 

Icy floated higher, even as I rose to my feet. "Sisters, I think it's time we acquainted Bloom with nature." 

"I agree." I so did not like Darcy's knowing smirk. 

I estimated another twenty seconds before my wings wouldn't hurt and I could fly, although my back would feel very, very sore. 

"Any last words, pixie?" Stormy asked in a baby-miming tone so eerily similar to Bellatrix Lestrange that I burned in rage. 

My hair lit itself on fire, and the Dragon Flame was writing in my breast, feeding from my growing frustration, annoyance, and anger. 

Fire coiled and danced around my limbs, and ash swirled among the breeze. The heated gale raised up my hair, and over my chest, it began to glow orange as I grew closer to snapping and closing all control. 

All it would take was a slip, a temporary lapse of my control. All I'd have to do was let the reins fall to my internal companion, and bask in the heat and might of the Dragon Flame. 

I'd feel an intoxicating rush of power, the rushing wind in my ears, the feeling of invincibility, and my enemies slain at my--NO! 

I can't, I won't go down that path again! I embraced it once, never, EVER again!

Besides, I couldn't risk him, not like this, and not here. Not ever. 

Slowly, the orange glow receded from the golden opal over my heart, the Dragon Flame returning to its place inside my core. 

Icy was watching me warily, while Darcy appeared to be puzzled about something. Stormy just looked hungry for more blood. 

"No more games, Bloom." Icy declared. 

Something was building in the air, it was thick, oppressive, like a heavy soup. I sensed vile intent, my instincts screaming that something was coming...but what? 

The Trix's irises all changed their colors, turning from their own color to a sickly purple-black. 

"Sal-crua-rit-tre!" 

"Sal-rut-nre-ifi!" 

A bloody chant. A ritual. 

"No," I whispered in denial, realizing that they were going to use a fucking DARK ritual. Just to beat me? Are they insane? 

"Raging winds, tie up the female brood..." 

"Sal-crua-rit-tre!" 

"Sal-rut-nre-ifi!" 

I gathered my powers, balls of fire forming in my hands, only for a gust of wind to come and rip me up, trapping me in the air, suspended with my arms bound to my back. 

I fluttered my wings despite the pain, but was unable to break free from Stormy's grip. 

The air felt foul, and every breath felt harder. I felt like I was tasting ashes in my mouth, like there was dirt rubbing against my skin. 

"Remove her scent, null traces of blood..." 

"Sal-crua-rit-tre!" 

"Sal-rut-nre-ifi!" 

I gasped as the subtle scents of my body shampoo vanished. Even as I struggled, the bemused part of my mind thought, 'Really? They're that worried about me being found by smell???' 

Then I realized that they had just made it so that I couldn't be tracked through blood. Uh...what the fuck???

"Divide the wood of nature and Earth..."

"Sal-crua-rit-tre!" 

"Sal-crua-nre-ifi!" 

That doesn't sound good...are they going to bury me alive??? 

"Craft a hole to shove her girth..." 

"Sal-crua-rit-tre!" 

"Sal-crua-nre-ifi!" 

Excuse me?

I may be bound, but I wasn't out of options. My hands were tied behind my back, but if I tilted them, I could get an angle on the witches. 

I twisted, hissing in discomfort as the bonds tightened, but at last, my hands were positioned right at the Trix. 

Fire exploded out of my palms, flames shooting outward like an impressive flamethrower, soaring towards the three dark figures like the screaming engines of jets. I held nothing back, letting all my pent-up anger, frustration, confusion, joy, grief, and sadness fuel my powers, even though it was starting to hurt as orangish-yellow flames--hotter than anything I'd ever used before--blasted toward the heart of my enemy. 

Only to bounce off of the darkness that was gathering around the floating bodies. 

"Impossible." I breathed in shock. For my powers to be nulled that effectively meant that they were using seriously dark magic. 

Oh fuck no. I'm in trouble. 

The coils squeeze tighter, and my breath hitches as pain explodes in my body, and I buck in a silent cry of misery. 

"Bury her deep within nature..." 

"Sal-crua rit-tre!" 

"Sal-crua-nre-ifi!" 

"And imprison her for her crimes against us!" 

Dark magic surged towards me, and I desperately tried to void the attack by gathering my power and unleashing it in a raw wave of magic. 

It worked...for three seconds. 

The Trix all moaned, their bodies trembling as they became conduits for negative energies that spurned past my feeble defense and slammed into me. 

"Gaia, warn the Winx!" I cried out before I doubled over in weakness...then in pain. Negative energies swarmed over my body like a raging army of fire ants, enveloping me like Venom, consuming me until that destructive, corruptive power lay just over my skin. 

I tried to summon my Flame, but not even a glow of the Fire of Life could penetrate this barrier. 

My world was dimming...spinning...I no longer had control. I no longer could fight...sapped of my strength...overwhelmed by sheer force. 

Sickly purple clouds surrounded me, and I was trapped in nothing...suddenly vulnerable and broken under their power. My head swam with confusion and fatigue...I couldn't break free...

Another headrush of pain exploded behind my eyes, and this time I couldn't contain the scream of pain. My body contorted and spasmed, my nerves screaming as though they were set on fire. 

I bit my tongue to stifle my screams, and instead tasted coppery liquid in my mouth. 

I coughed up blood and my body began to shrink against my will, my fairy form flickering, before sparkles surrounded me as the Dragon Flame receded deeper inside, burrowing into my heart, and my fairy form vanished in a light show of sparkles. 

My jaw was torn open and my screams continued. The pain ate me up, like a parasite from the inside out. 

My throat went hoarse, and with it, the faintest of coherence returned amidst the writhing ocean of agony that sought to drown me. 

"No..." I was shocked as my own power abandoned me, turning to hide. My voice was lost in the tumble of darkness, which would soon be followed by my consciousness. I was bitter as I realized it; I was nowhere near able to defeat them on my own. 

Fighting one last time through the growing haze, even as my sight abandoned me, and my limbs hardened inside, slowly turning into unmoving wood, I hurled my power into my last, futile hope for salvation.

My final cry was lost as I fell into the darkness...

unable to get out...

unable to fight back...

unable to...

to...

to...

Without hope, and with negative energies sucking away the last of my strength...my resistance crumbled, just as my face finally was sealed in my prison. 

It became too much. It became unbearable. Purple swam in my vision before eventually everything turned dark. 

And I knew no more. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

A sole star burns bright. Brighter than any other light that has attempted to pierce the dark clouds that cover the sky like a thick blanket. But that is not it's intent. For it bides it's time, gathering its strength. 

Deep within the ruins of a great castle lies the fallen dead. Further in is the last sign of sentience anyone would expect to find beneath the avalanche of snow and ice, hidden inside of the ruins. 

Deep within the catacombs is the nymph that has given those aware of her existence in Magix a headache. 

Her golden, transparent body sways, the pain but a slight annoyance that she ignores, single-mindedly focused on her goal. Perhaps that was her mistake. 

She pants, her powers swelling. Not much longer now...

It comes, so quickly, so fast, and so desperate, that she is overwhelmed yet again. 

'DAPHNE! HELP ME!' 

She is bowled over, as though the words that slam into her mind have a physical push that hurls her spirit through the wall. 

She reorients herself the moment she recovers, and finds the end of her sister's bond, burning bright for a moment. 

Joy fills her before fear takes over. If she had blood, it would run cold. 

That had not been a greeting. That had not been a plead. 

That had been a desperate cry for help, a begging wail for aid. 

Daphne's eyes shined with her limited Flame. She found the end of her bond and hurled her power into it, her life, her soul. 

Protective rage surged in her breast--whoever made her sister scream for help like that would pay dearly. 

In blood. 

Words that she yearned to say finally burst from her golden lips as her eyes shined with determination and fury. 

"I'm coming, little sister." 

A.N.: Apologies for the delay in uploading this. I'm busy finishing up my ten-page essay as I write this. 

Also, sorry not sorry for the cliffhanger lol, Bloom will be back next week!