A/N: The idea for this fan-fiction came from my work on DeviantART. You can find some wallpapers and artworks relating to scenes from the story in my gallery through the link in my profile.

Note: This story is not a conventional winx fic. It does not follow any particular events of the original series. Do NOT flame this story because it experiments with a different pairing. This fic is the very first fic one to use a Helia/Icy pairing so don't flame it 'til you read it. I'm a fan of Flora and Helia as much as the next person (read my other fics if you don't believe me) but please give it a chance.

To my friends on DeviantART – Welcome to the fic I hope you like it :) if you don't have a ff. net account you can still tell me what you think in the box at the end of the story as an anonymous reviewer if you want to :)

This story will contain elements of Drama and Fantasy though more Drama. I didn't want to put this into the 'Romance' category because, though it includes some elements of romance, I didn't want it to be stereotyped with other so called 'romance' fic's on this fandom.

All errors are mine, enjoy.


Warning: This chapter contains dark themes, violence and references to blood. You have been warned.


The Shard

A Winx Club Fan-Fiction

Written by Chrissiemusa

I do NOT in any way, shape or form own the Winx Club, it belongs to Iginio Straffi and I am not making any money out of this fan-fiction.

Chapter 1

The Mysterious Stranger

Magic had the ability to do so many things; to attack or defend, to protect or wound, to turn some of life's trivial tasks into exciting feats of demonstration, and make the tedious ones as simple as clicking your fingers. But there was always a limit to magic, to its abilities, to how much it could help or hinder, and if he had the ability to collect all of the universes magic and put it towards one task, he knew that it still would not be strong enough.

Magic could heal, magic could kill, but it would never bring the dead back to life.

And that was all he wanted, for he had lost his future the moment his true love had passed from this world and into whatever lay beyond the veil of death. His future, his happiness, all of it had been so swiftly taken from under him he didn't know what to do, where to stand. He felt like a plate on a table just after its cloth had been pulled so vigorously it made it float. But he didn't break on the table, or hit the floor and separate into thousands of tiny pieces; he was stuck in limbo, stuck standing like a statue in the pouring rain in front of the grave of his fiancé, his life, his wife and his future… Flora.

She was so full of immense beauty, compassion and care towards others. She always had time for those that she loved and those who needed help. He could never understand why he, of all people, had been blessed enough for her to fall in love with. He knew he didn't deserve her, she deserved someone better, someone who could have protected her more, kept her safe and secure and, most importantly, alive.

But it was already too late, and no amount of replaying that night's events over in his head could help him, could stop him feeling the pain slowly stabbing his chest, pushing deeper and deeper into the pumping muscle until it gave out. He would have felt pain, he reasoned, if he truly was being stabbed in the chest, but he couldn't feel a thing. He was numb from head to toe.

The water slowly sliding down his head and face, his skin and clothes becoming saturated with the deluge falling from heaven - he didn't feel a single drop. His friends had tried to help him, had tried to reason with him, tried to tell him that it wasn't his fault that she was dead, that he had done everything he could have to save her. But he didn't believe them, because there was always something he could do, there had to be something he could have done. If he had a tape recorder that could play, rewind or pause time, he'd go back and do what he had to.

He'd tried everything, seen wizards and witches, met elders of distant tribes to discover the secrets of life, death and time travel, but they all told him the same thing… nothing could be done. So now he stood, staring at the red rose in his hand that he planned to give Flora for Valentine's Day. The rose that, ironically, he had spelled for eternity so it would stay fresh, alive, without blemish and never lose its perfume - yet another use for magic that could never help him.

Kneeling down in the soaked earth he read the tombstone before laying the rose against it. It sat beautifully, bright red against the darkness of the cloud covered world below, like Flora's ray of light in his world of darkness.

And that world of darkness became even scarier when he heard a groan to his left. Helia lifted his head and searched through the rain, trying to identify other shapes among the angels and statues. "Who's there!" He asked.

Snap!

His head whipped left as he stood to his feet, noticing someone leaning against a tree in the shadows, away from the moonlight gently shining from above. "Hello." He spoke uncertainly before they fell to the wet ground with a thud.

Hurrying forward Helia got to his knees and turned them over. She was a beautiful young woman. Her skin was pale and face painted with a strange bright blue, slowly damaged and broken by trails of crimson blood that seeped from the wound on her head and traced down the side of her face. What appeared to be fresh cuts and wounds on her shoulders, arms and legs bled fresh, ruining the white canvas of her skin. Her usually long white hair was mattered with a mixture of mud, leaves and blood, and he had absolutely no idea who she was or what she was doing out here so late at night. Though, he supposed, others would have been wondering the same thing about him.

Carefully he placed one forearm under her waist and the other under her knees and lifted her off the muddy grass, droplets of water dripping off her body and back to the floor where they belonged. Stepping over the rocks he made his way to the main path and past rows and rows of the dead, heading for home.

Though he had considered leaving Linphea behind him for good, he had ended up deciding against it. Flora had always been there for him, he was the one who failed her. So why should he forgive himself and run away to some far off planet or magical dimension to escape the guilt? He could never forgive himself.

Reaching the small two bedroom home that he and Flora had planned to share together he carefully fished the keys from his pocket and balanced the mysterious woman on his shoulder before kicking it open and making his way inside. He walked to their spare bedroom and carefully lay her on the sheets before removing his soaking wet, and now blood and mud covered jacket. He ran to the kitchen and took a bowl, some water and a cloth into his hands before returning and taking a seat by her bedside, carefully wiping the blood away from her face and arms. He started with the laceration to her forehead and wrung the cloth in his hands, turning the water that was previously clear to become rather pink.

Next was her shoulder, then upper arm, both of which looked particularly nasty. He moved down to her elbow which looked like she had fallen onto and wiped the dirt and mud before noticing something on her left wrist. Taking it into his hand he turned it over and saw a tattoo. It was small, delicate, and shaped like a six pointed star, though some ends were not entirely joined properly. Then he noticed something…strange.

The mark itself was black but one particular triangle was white, and looked like it had been badly burnt into her skin. Just as he placed his thumb over it to inspect the damage her arm retracted and a foot hit him square in the chest. Helia smacked the ground with a bang, the chair rolling to its side and bowl of water upturned and shaking. Its wrangled tones getting faster and faster as it teetered uncontrollably on the floor.

He tried to get back to his feet but she was already over him, on all fours, her hands tightly clasped around his neck. Desperately he clawed at her fingers to relieve the pressure before pushing his knees under her stomach and pushing upwards.

She clutched her painful abdomen when the tattoo mark on her arm started to glow a luminous white. Helia had no idea what to do but quickly realised he didn't have to do a thing. With another thud she hit the wooden floorboards, and was knocked out cold.

Taking several quick and deep breaths Helia leant against the far wall and looked to the ceiling, wondering what the hell he had gotten himself into before tilting his head to the right and looking at the unconscious being before him. She was breathing, that much was certain, and the worst of the lacerations had been cleaned, though he wasn't exactly looking forward to having to dress them as well. Carefully he got back to his feet and walked to her, before kneeling and inspecting the tattoo. This time he knew better than to touch it, but he had absolutely no idea what it was.

He had read about ancient magic during his time at Red Fountain school for Specialists, where he first met Flora. She had attended Alfea and the two grew rather close until they graduated and he proposed. But he had never read anything about magic marks. Most of the ones he had heard about were four or five pointed stars, or those that could be used as a form of communication device. But never as…well…as whatever it was.

Carefully scooping her from the floor he lay her back on the bed and covered her lower half with a blanket, not bothering to try and remove her knee high black boots for fear she'd rouse and try and kill him a second time, possibly succeeding in her task. He paused at the door and turned to look over his shoulder one last time before urging his lips to ask the one question he was begging to know an answer to. "Who are you?"

And that one question started a series of events that neither of them could possibly have predicted. She was running from her past, he had lost his future, and whatever unknown force had brought them together, was also prepared to tear them apart.


A/N: Thanks for reading and please review if you'd like me to continue.