A/N: I'm back! Ok, this chapter is not as long as I thought it would be, but still pretty long. Sorry for the long wait, school is seriously trying to kill me through the lack of sleep. Thank heavens for the random long weekend we got a while back though! This fic I can safely say is definitely nearing the end, we only have one chapter left! And not sponsored but I really suggest you guys should bulk buy those tissues before that, seriously. I almost cried reading my chapter draft. Back to this chapter, the fic is starting to get less structured, and this chapter could be counted as a bit of filler, but still important ones for establishing character motivations. I tried my best to keep everyone in character, but I am human so I apologise for any OOC-ness. Something to note: warnings for a heavy panic attack ahead, though I promise next chapter will be sweeter to balance it a bit out. Previous warnings still apply. Without further ado, please enjoy!
Tecna'd finally told them.
She did so on her own accord, something she didn't really expect to happen, really. She'd always imagined that they would be none the wiser, not knowing until perhaps the very end. Or that somehow, she'd manage to get herself killed by the Trix or Valtor, and therefore literally taking her secret to the grave.
But that wouldn't have been fair on them. They deserved to know. To know that... that they hadn't had much time left with her. If any at all.
It had been a quiet evening, one of the few they had been graced with in the light of the upcoming battle with Valtor. They all knew that it was high tide in coming, but there were several uncertainties of which no-one had to answer to. When. How. Where. Whether... whether they would all make it through.
Tecna was wondering whether she'd even make it to the final confrontation.
A light current of electricity sparked from the tips of her fingers, a green sheen tinting her hands for a brief second before flickering out. It was as if her powers had been given a mind of its own. Or simply preoccupied with surviving. She knew how that could affect someone.
The others were all preoccupied with their own research or lack of thereof. Bloom, ever the resilient fairy, was diligently flipping through a list of activation spells, marking off those she deemed to be useful. Flora stood at her shoulder, a tired look etched on her face. They were the only two who weren't worn out from the long afternoon they'd spent doing the same thing. As Solarians say, "dust dulls the diamonds", or how recreation is necessary for efficiency; which was exactly why Stella had taken to an impromptu manicure session. Musa, unperturbed, was slowly drifting off with a pair of headphones on, only kept awake by Layla's constant nudging.
It's not that they didn't care, Tecna knew that. It's just that everyone was completely exhausted, drained from nerves and the knowledge of that they were completely blind to what was going to happen. Stella's manicure was in fact hopelessly lopsided, though the blonde seemed to not have noticed.
Tecna herself was no exception, fighting back the lull of sleep that dared to tug at the edge of her vision. She couldn't, wouldn't. Not when ice and frost were still lurking in the shadows.
It had been at this point where Flora looked up. "Are you alright, darling?"
What should she answer with? Yes, just a little tired? Or no, since I could quite possibly cease living at any given time with what little they know is happening to me?
It could have been seconds. Minutes. Hours. But all she knew is that she had taken too long to answer and that everyone was now staring at her.
"Yes," she bit back the truth, "yes, just a little..."
Tecna knew she had plenty of flaws, as did everyone else. She could be brash, cold, and a little ego-centric. But she had never been a liar. It just wasn't in her.
Musa made a little noise, an indiscernible emotion hinted in the notion, before pointedly turning to the nondescript wall opposite her. Even then, the disappointment that radiated off of her in waves was clearly noticeable.
"Is there something you're not telling us, Tecna?" this time it was Stella, a dash of betrayal in her voice.
Tecna didn't even know how she managed to splutter the words out. She didn't even realise she had sat up straighter, bracing herself for the onslaught of words that she knew were coming. Everything was a blur. Just... a high-speed reel of shock and worry, hope and faith.
How could they still have faith? After all this... Tecna remembered musing bitterly after hearing Bloom's words. We will get through this. She'd had lost hers three months ago.
They'd all eventually left when dawn cracked. Tecna herself had gotten up to freshen up when a lithe hand clamped on her shoulder, nails digging into the skin hard enough to elicit a small yelp.
"Sorry," a voice rang out softly, obviously weighed down by something unsaid. "I didn't realise how sharp my nails were."
Tecna whirled around to meet Stella's amber eyes, where conflict was waging war in her gaze. "It's fine. It didn't hurt," even though she could feel the red welts forming on her shoulder, "not really."
The slightest hint of a smile lit up on Stella's face, however, it disappeared as fast as it had appeared. "You don't have to lie to me, y'know. I know that I'm not exactly the nicest person to be around and that I'm pretty much a shallow b–"
Tecna cut her off. "Is this about the water star trials?"
Blinking, Stella started as if she had forgotten all about it. "No, no, it's just that– I know I, um– ugh, why is it so hard to say this?" she let out a lengthy exhale, crossing her arms in the process. "I'm just... I'm sorry."
"Wait, what?" Tecna blinked hard, making sure she wasn't missing anything glaringly obvious. As far as she remembered, there hadn't been any unsolved grievances between the two of them recently, nothing unsolved at the very least. What could she have been apologising for?
"I'm sorry for ever calling you too uptight, too 'uncool', too... too serious I guess. I'm sorry for not laughing at your jokes or basically whenever you tried to cheer us up. I guess... I'm just sorry I didn't appreciate you enough."
"Stella..."
Stella made a sound that suspiciously sounded like a repressed sob. "You have every right to call me shallow, stupid, vapid, someone who just doesn't get people. Like, if I were you I totally would call me that. I took you for granted, and I should have never ever done that."
A slight pause. "I know– I know I have never been the best of friends with you. And it was so stupid of me to not tell you just how," another suspicious sniffle, "how good of a person you are before all this."
This whole exchange was so out of Tecna's comfort zone that she had absolutely no starting point where she could even begin to address what Stella was saying. She knew exactly how much it was costing the Solarian princess to say this. Unbeknownst to many, Stella was actually quite a reserved person, keeping her deepest feelings for only her closest confidants.
Tecna really didn't know what else to do but gather Stella for a hug.
"I'm," Tecna finally found her voice again, "I'm sorry too, Stell."
What exactly was she sorry for? For not accepting her friend as she was? For not appreciating her enough? For not having much more time left with her?
No. Tecna was sorry for all three.
But somehow, even with everything in front of her, she wasn't afraid. She knew that Stella'd, they'd be right there, by her side.
"Yes, mother. I'll be sure to mention it to her. I cannot guarantee anything, mother." Pause. "Yes, I know that this will be good for Andros' interplanetary relationships but this my friend we are talking about mother! I will not force any burden of guilt on her, especially with all she's done already. May I propose that Chancellor Gails speaks with the head commissioner to sort all this? Yes, I know that–"
Tecna realised too late that that conversation had not been for her ears. She had no place within the political atmosphere of Andros, no matter how interesting it was with the whole dual committee background. Although, she might need to start being more involved, especially due to the whole Zenithian-Androsian talks going on.
Yes, the tensions had indeed somewhat simmered over time, but there was still a lingering feeling of charged air whenever the two realms met for the bi-weekly peace talks (or battle plans, courtesy of Valtor's threat). Layla herself had been subject to many questions from nosy reporters in Magix, much to her chagrin. Another reason why she tried not to step out on her lonesome.
But the fact was there was still tension. The next Zenithian Solstice was coming up, and although Tecna was looking forward to seeing her family again, she knew that it would hardly be a quiet affair due to–
"Hey, Tec."
Layla had evidently finished her conversation with her mother on the holophone and had unfortunately caught Tecna right outside the door of the common room.
"I wasn't eavesdropping, I swear on–"
Layla shook her head. "It doesn't matter. I was looking for you, anyways."
Tilting her head slightly to the left, Tecna got a good look at Layla. The conversation with her mother must have rattled her, judging from the hesitance in the way she held herself.
"My mother called to discuss the Zenith-Andros political relationship. You probably already know... things aren't looking too good. On top of the whole Valtor situation, our economy is suffering. The aid that Andros received from Zenith has been all but cut off."
Zenith took great pride in their own reputation, Tecna knew that. But she didn't know that they would stoop as low as this, to deny aid to a struggling country. Yes, national pride was important but what about compassion? The very fact that a Zenithian had chosen to... well, save that realm should have been enough to ensure that the notion was kept.
"What happened?" What had changed Zenith's mind? The fact that Tecna was for all intents still not a full-fledged member of society weighed heavily on her mind. Her family lacked the connections for access to the state. This proved to be ironic as Tecna did end up sharing a dorm with three other princesses. However, the fact was that Tecna clearly was missing a line of the equation.
"It's not really what happened but more of what didn't happen. Andros – my family – completely brushed aside what happened after the memorials were finished, more so after we found you. Zenith noticed and made an announcement that was broadcasted across the web... and they decided to withdraw soon after."
Tecna'd seen the announcement, but at that time thought nothing of it. As the realm responsible for the creation of the said network, they'd often make global announcements for updates and the likes (which now Tecna realised were actually thinly-veiled propaganda). The most recent one, dated the 15th of November, spoke of how "technology's memory is infallible".
Realms above. Some divine force must be keeping the two realms apart. Or maybe it was just Valtor's influence that kept the realms at bay.
She replayed Layla's words in her head before a phrase stood out to her. After the memorials.
"Wait, Layla, what memorials?"
Layla froze. Tecna noted that her eyes briefly darted to a non-descript shell hanging near the entrance, one that Tecna hadn't noticed before.
Shells were the means of communication with the beings of the Sea within Layla's realm, which held significance in itself for the Sea was viewed as a revered place for spirits. Tradition dictated that one communicated with any departed for at least a week, to dispel any restlessness that may have remained.
The shell was spelt a hazy blue and hung by its tail on the side of the entrance nearest to Tecna's room.
"Oh."
They'd thought Tecna had died. Layla, Musa, Flora... all of them thought that she had died, died in the fall or the actual sacrifice or shortly after she (miraculously) ended up in the Omega.
"You all– you all thought I was dead."
She shouldn't be surprised. Hell, even she thought that– when she first made the decision to, to sacrifice herself. She could understand the news outlets, the royals. They hadn't been there. But... she'd– it never really hit her. That they had truly thought her dead. Thought that, while she was fighting for her life.
Had she been the one in their shoes, she would have thought the same. It was simply illogical to think otherwise. With such impossible circumstances, the chances would have been incredibly slim. Virtually zero. But to have been the one lost, the one left for dead...
Glacial chills clutched her. A sorrowful howl slithered through the caverns, mourning for the lost.
Layla was saying something, words forming in rapid bursts of... Morse? Is that what Bloom had called it?
A hand grabbed hers.
"Where'd you think you're going?"
The glint of steel, reflecting off the cascade of light. The eyes that bore into her reminded her of coffee, bitter black horrid liquid that scalded her on a hazy morning. She hadn't had coffee in so long. Bloom used to bring some from Earth for them.
She stumbled forward, body tipping over like a blade of grass – figments of her imagination, for nothing that beautiful could ever exist in a world so cold– caught in the wind. The transmitter clung on feverishly in her grasps, as if it were the one scrambling for purchase, for something, for hope or for the light or for the desperate echoes to live live live–
It was a dissonant chorus of voices, male and female entangled together, rising and falling to the beat of her hammering heart, somehow motivating and hopeless at the same time.
Hot pain lashed her back, bringing forth a silence to the horrible damned voices that pushed her to run and save herself and survive to live to live and everything was too bright–
She could no longer distinguish the voices around her. Friend or foe, hells Valtor could walk up and she wouldn't even be able to tell.
She was just so tired.
Someone was taunting her, slamming her hand to the ground in an attempt to soften her grip on the device that had the last feeble tether to a world where she was free to live. She was bleeding somewhere, that she could still tell even through her blurred vision – from tears or from exhaustion? – through the warmth that trickled down.
"Tecna? Hey. Can you hear me?"
How'd they known her name? Tecna. One she had worn with such pride. Tecna Vitalia, the girl who could move worlds if she thought of it. Who embraced emotions, flourishing despite the fact that she had little experience reigning them.
Who died closing the Omega Portal.
She was just a ghost, wandering the depths of the Omega attempting to avenge the person she used to be.
"Sweetie, hey. You're safe with us."
Flowers. She'd be damned if the Omega actually had a blooming memorial somewhere. What could survive in all this ice?
Broken souls.
She'd stopped bleeding, or she was just so drenched in blood that she couldn't tell the cold air from her skin. Or it was the fabled warmth of the Great Dragon when it wrapped around you as it guided you to the Golden Kingdom.
A sharp tang filled the air, one that felt somehow... somehow purer than the chill. It felt open, free, welcoming. So unlike the secretive cold, the one that held its viciousness under false pretences.
"You're at Alfea. Just take a deep breath, no-one's going to hurt you. It's going to be okay, sweetie."
Flora?
Her voice felt real.
Should she trust her?
Allies were becoming a foreign concept to her.
A fantasy. Perhaps in another life, another time, they existed. People who weren't out to maim you. People who would rather leave you be instead of going out of their way to kill you. Loyalty. Love.
The longing of a lingering soul.
But it felt warmer. Like the sun had risen. Like the night had given way to dawn.
Slowly, she realised her heart had softened its frantic pumps of adrenaline. Not entirely calm, but gentler. The soft rhythm of a hymn.
A pair of eyes were still boring into her. But these were different. Soft green emeralds that spoke of the serenity that had seemed so out of reach.
"...Flora?"
The... girl? Woman? in front of her smiled softly. Sincerely.
Tecna blinked.
And it all came crashing down, blown apart by slightest flutter. She crumpled into Flora's arms, not really sure of who she was or where she was or hells, even when it was, but suddenly Tecna felt at home, home where everything was safe and where no one was polishing a blade ready to stab her in the back–
She trembled, the sting of Dragon-knows-what kept at bay only by Flora's hands, crumbling bit by bit like ashes blown in the wind. Like melting ice.
And the tears broke free of the dam, surging with abandon.
"I knew I never should've brought it up, I'm so sorry!"
Layla burst through the door, a flurry of activity balancing a cup of tea precariously on a tray. Even from her vantage point at her bed Tecna was able to see the liquid sloshing, spilling a tad over the side.
"No, it was my fault to react so..." Illogically, irrationally, the first words that sprang to mind after years of suppressing her emotions, "so harshly."
Because what was the point of living emotionless?
Layla didn't seem to hear, setting down the tea on Tecna's desk. Turning her face to an undescriptive wall, she heaved a sigh. "After everything you've done for my realm, this is what I repay you with. A cup of damn tea."
"It should have been me. I know it should've. I am the princess of Andros, for Dragon's sake. And what do I do? I let one of my best friends almost die–"
Silence. The words took on another meaning, one where the both of them would much rather ignore.
"You are an absolute hero to Andros. And what does the Androsian council do? Milk your sacrifice for all its worth! It's such a disgrace," the last word was practically hissed, hatred clear in her words.
"And when we found you! They erased you from the news. Oceans above, it was like it never happened. In all honesty, Andros deserved what Zenith did."
"No," Layla looked up, the anger subsiding slightly. "Zenith's wrong."
"They both have a common enemy: Valtor. What's the point of denying allies aid?"
"No offence, Tec, but you know how bull-headed Zenith is." One of Zenith's many great assets, yet fatal flaw at the same time. That characteristic made sure nothing got in the way of progress, but also blinded the realm to compassion and second chances.
"And that was what I was gonna ask you. My mother thought it would help if Andros used some of its fund to erect a statue of you near the island, as a... commemoration."
"...Me?"
"You're a hero, Tec. More noble and brave than all of us put together. And that should never be lost to history. I'm so sorry for being too much of coward–" Tecna wanted to protest, but Layla cut her off. "No, I am. I'm so damn sorry for making you go through all that and how this is the only thing I can do for you."
Tecna hoped that she would be able to see it.
"You don't need my permission, Layla."
"Tecna Vitalia!" Musa's voice was raised, pitchy, as she slammed the door to their shared room. "I cannot believe that you haven't been telling us anything, you idiot!"
The last time Musa had truly been angry was when the Trix attacked Alfea. Her eyes had given Bloom's dragon fire a run for their money, the azure practically smouldering. It was as if a short circuit had exploded, charring the rest of the world around Musa and the victim of her fury.
Musa advanced on her, and Tecna could now see that her shoulders were trembling, her stiff stance cracking. It was no matter to her, as Tecna clutched the tablet closer to her chest. "I haven't done anything wrong!"
"It's not what you've done," Musa's voice grew shriller still, "it's what you didn't do! How you never told us, told me, hells told Timmy about– oh, I should have noticed– but with everything, you're our friend Tecna! Don't–"
"I'm okay on my own, you guys have Valtor to worry about." And that was true, as mass extinctions were far more important than a single fairy's mental health.
"Okay?! Okay doesn't normally –doesn't rationally since it's your favourite word– breaking down at the slightest mention of that horrid place. We could've, I could've–"
And Musa launched herself at Tecna witch such a force that knocked the breath out of her.
"I can't lose you. Not like her. I can't." her muffled voice was completely devoid of anger, all the hatred evaporated. "I need you, Tecna."
"You have Layla and the rest of the girls," and her voice wobbled too, because how does one keep her composure at a moment like this?
"But they're not you. None of them was there for my first days at Alfea. You were the first one to encourage me to pursue music again. The first to actually sit down and listen to me play that song I wrote about my father. None of them could ever..."
"I–" no apology could ever begin to mend the cracks. So Tecna let the rest of her sentence trail off, cut off prematurely.
One of the last untainted memories Tecna had of that day was of Musa. Before their group split up, the two of them had faced each other, Musa in her Enchantix and Tecna in her Winx. Clenching a fist over their hearts, they'd nodded silently before making their separate ways. Come home, by the purity of our song. I'll return to thee, thine melody. An old Melodian gesture for good luck. Musa had done it with her since the Battle for Alfea. She had been surprised that Tecna knew the gesture.
Another instance she remembered was the blurry form of Musa, face etched in indescribable pain. The burn of the negative charge had almost been too much to bear, yet Musa had battled through it to see her. Fighting for the slightest chance to save her.
Musa released Tecna from her grasp, instead choosing to thread her hands together. "We could still try. Zenith would be willing to–"
"No, Musa." She would not become Frankenstein's monster. Zenith was the realm of progress, that is true, but it was also the realm where the lines between biotic and abiotic blurred. Tecna herself was not purely organic, in fact just a little over seventy percent organic, the minimum required for her to still be able to support magic.
Her mother had called her a few days ago, frantic voice tripping over the words for the first time in her life, over an experimental treatment she'd concocted with the rest of her co-workers at Zenith's General Hospital. They could try to save her, she had said, but that would require her to be strapped to machines for months on end. Tecna had interrogated her mother further, and she had reluctantly mentioned that it was not guaranteed to work, either.
That would mean she would have to watch, immobilised yet fairly safe, watch as her friends charged into death's lair. She would be leaving her friends for death in exchange for the faint sliver of life.
The Specialists, the few guys who actually entertained her boyish interest of mechanics, treating her like equals. The Winx, the people who she would trust with her life. Musa, her closest companion. And Timmy, Great Dragon, the one who understood her the most and would never ever abandon her for himself.
She could never betray the people she held dearest.
"I can't just let you all face Valtor without me. No. You guys are my world, and what good would it be to live in a world without you all? I am coming with you," and her tone left no space for protest, "and that is final."
But this Musa, a fairy just as stubborn as her and with twice the amount of determination. "We need you too. Hells, we need you just as much as you need as and we could never just let you go straight in certain death. Please," and she was sincere, pleading for the light of hope to not flicker off, "just... we would never be the same."
"No. I'm coming, whenever it may be, and no amount of words can stop me," tilting her head, a defiant glint shone in her eyes as she met Musa's gaze. "I'm going to help you defeat Valtor or die trying."
Musa was silent. An uncommon occurrence, and a dangerous one at that. But she spoke up, sorrow heavy on the light tone that had once been home to a symphony of notes.
"I would," she swallowed, as if she were forcing the words out against her will, "I would do the same."
Tecna was not going to question the logic behind her actions, for she knew had the situation been reversed she would do the same.
It's funny how they'd always try for the fleeting things that were far out of reach.
A/N: Lots and lots of headcanon-ing going on, especially for the political atmosphere. But on another note, seriously, go out and buy the tissues. Don't say I didn't warn you. At this moment in time I believe you won't have to wait nearly as long for the next chapter, so expect it in a bit less than a month. Please review, they make the world go round (and cheer up this writer)! Thank you all for reading until here and I hope you have a wonderful day!
(P.S. Playlist link is still up on my profile, but again, not necessary! Just if you really want to make yourself cry next chapter, I guess. I swear next chap is going to be more fluffy, promise!)