She doesn't see him for four months.

It's strange; Bloom has never been scared of going to a particular place. Even Cloud Tower, anxious as it's made her on certain occasions, isn't a place she's afraid of going into (at least when it's not being actively taken over by the Trix). But she finds she's scared of going to London now. It's a ridiculous idea; the city itself is huge, with so many people and places to go it seems impossible to run into someone by chance.

But that's exactly what Bloom's afraid of. Because in what feels like not long at all, London has become a second home to her, maybe even more than Magix or the palace on Sparx. Few people recognize her, mostly because she has no reason to be there and partially because they're too busy with their own lives. She likes the mixture of old and new buildings she comes across, the sushi place near Waterloo Bridge, and the Pret a Manger she visits so frequently the baristas are starting to remember her. And she likes -

The thoughts usually stop there, along with a hard pang in her chest.

She liked.

Bloom avoids London. Even though part of her screams to go back.

"Can I ask you something?" Bloom says one sunny afternoon as she and Daphne are in her room, flipping through fashion magazines so her sister can catch up on the latest trends.

Daphne sets the bright pink booklet aside. "Of course."

"Why didn't you say anything before?" Bloom says, clarifying when she gives her a questioning look. "About Baltor. You visited me on Pyros, and you said how dangerous he was, but you never told me he killed you."

Her sister goes a little pale, but after a moment sighs. "It...wasn't my proudest moment. Any of it. And I figured if it was lost to time, that wasn't a bad thing."

If more of my past was lost, I considered it a good thing.

Bloom shakes her head. "I just wish I would've known."

Daphne smiles, and reaches out to squeeze her shoulder. "It wouldn't have changed anything. You already knew what Baltor was capable of, and I didn't want to put more pressure on you."

It seems like such a logical reasoning, and it annoys Bloom. And not just because this was the second time she'd heard it in as many weeks. Why didn't anyone want to tell me this?

"Hey," Bloom's head snaps up, and Daphne's giving her a concerned look. "Baltor's gone, okay? You shouldn't waste your time thinking about him."

She doesn't trust herself to respond, so she turns back to the magazines. "So, I hear cardigans are in right now."

Bloom is so used to breaks from school being only weeks at a time. She used to hate them when she'd first arrived in the dimension; there was barely a summer or winter vacation before she had to go back to classes. But now, when she could use the distraction of school, is when Faragonda assigns the longest break in Alfea's history.

"I think we all deserve a good, long rest in light of recent events," she had said at the end of the year assembly. It was the only part Bloom had paid attention to; it had been two days after her duel with Baltor, and everything felt like slow motion. "Not to mention the following year will be an anniversary of my taking over as your headmistress."

Flora had to elbow Bloom so she remembered to clap.

"With such an occasion," Faragonda had smiled out at the crowd. "This year's summer break will be three months instead of one. Not only to prepare the festivities, but to upgrade out West Wing housing. For our long-term students involved in advanced studies."

Everyone had been ecstatic, even Bloom at first. Time to reconnect with Daphne and her parents would be a welcome distraction. But barely half the break had gone by before Bloom found herself wishing for the boredom of school to keep her mind occupied.

"I can't believe you miss school," Roxy chuckles when Bloom visits her at the Frutti Music Bar. "Classes are insane - we deserve a break."

"Oh we deserve it," Bloom smirks, taking the strawberry smoothie Roxy passes to her. "I just didn't expect to be bored out of my mind."

"Not digging princess lessons?" Roxy asks, and Bloom has to laugh. "I'm pretty happy there's no requirement for me to take Tir Nan Og over from Nebula someday."

"I'm not a princess type - you know that."

"Sure you are. Maybe not in the fancy ball gown, what-fork-goes-with-what-course way, but in a more diplomatic way." The nature fairy holds up a hand before Bloom can protest. "Not politics - that's another story. But you have a clear head. You get people to listen to you, and each other."

"Besides," Roxy continues with a grin, "some of us don't have friends to visit in England on a regular basis."

Bloom's stomach drops. "Got me there."

When she leaves, Roxy gives her a bottle of an expensive looking alcohol. "Give that to Baltor when you see him next, okay? We've been taking bets on this group of college kids who keep coming by...sadly, I've been defeated."

She barely manages to smile. Bloom wants to ask - she desperately wants to ask what Baltor's been like around Roxy, but she's not ready for the barrage of questions that would follow. "No problem. I'll pass it along."

The bottle sits in her closet on Earth, behind several pairs of boots.

She's still angry - still very angry at what happened. But the more time that passes, and the longer she thinks about it, the more Baltor's excuses make sense to her.

It's of course the day she finally breaks and goes back to the coffee shop on Picadilly, a week before school starts. Bloom sits in her favorite spot - a leather armchair by the window, sketchbook in her lap and a pencil tapping against her chin, debating how best to draw the sun's glare hitting the windows when she sees a figure emerge from the store across the street.

The pencil falls from her hand.

Bloom has to double take to realize yes, it's Baltor she's staring at. She almost doesn't recognize him without the jacket, but in the midst of summer it's no wonder he's not wearing it. His hair too, is shorter than when she last saw him - not by a lot, but it ends at the middle of his back. There's a bag on one arm, and a book in his hand.

She thinks about an invisibility spell, but knows it would be easily picked up, so she angles the sketchbook to cover her face, watching.

Baltor flips the book open, stepping out of the way of the swarms of people walking down the street. Bloom sees him stop, look around, and then back down at the page. In the back of her head, she feels a tingle; a sign that a spell is working nearby.

A large gust of wind blows the door to the coffee shop open, with such a force there's a sound of drywall breaking. Bloom looks across the street and sees the same happening to the store Baltor stepped out of. And the man in question smirking. A group of teenagers pass by, and when Bloom can see again, Baltor has disappeared.

"You alright, love?" one of the baristas asks, coming over to pick up a magazines that'd blown off the table. "Bit of a scare, eh? Wasn't supposed to be windy at all today..."

"Sorry." Bloom shoves the sketchbook into her purse and stands. "I have to go."

Weather magic. One of the most difficult types to control, but also the most dangerous. Few light-wielders had the skill to control it - witches and dark wizards were normally better suited. And if Baltor has access to something like that, who knows what he's planning…

Across the street, Bloom can sense the remaining energy of a transport spell. It's starting to get weak, but there's enough that she can ride the magic trail.

She darts behind a stone pillar holding up the storefront, says a string of words, and vanishes.

At the point where blinking would bring the world into view, Bloom only sees darkness. Magic - magic that isn't hers - builds up around her, and after a minute, hits her with searing pain. She can't even scream before she feels something pushing, and Bloom lands on her back in what appears to be a dense forest.

She struggles to catch her breath, fighting the searing pain in her neck and shoulders. The feeling of disorientation leaves quickly, as if whatever attacked her was done.

Bloom stands, letting magic build up in her hand. That, at least, seems completely unaffected. She looks around the foliage, fighting the sense of familiarity and trying to seek Baltor through the Dragon Fire. If he had just gone through the same thing, he couldn't be too far away -

"Is everything alright, Bloom?"

She turns sharply, and finds herself face to face with the Major Fairy of Justice, giving her a look that isn't exactly critical, but certainly isn't friendly.

"Sibylla." Bloom takes a breath, letting some of the tension ebb out of her shoulders. "Oh my gosh, you scared me."

The older fairy inclines her head. "My apologies. I felt the cave retaliate against an entry, and came to see who it was. Imagine my surprise."

"The...cave did that?" Bloom asks, but as her eyes adjust she can see it; the entrance to Sibylla's home that she stepped through a little less than a year ago.

"It has its own magic built in; natural, from the Earth itself. I'm sure it's the same as other planets bestowing power onto its inhabitants."

"Or taking away." Bloom thinks of Shadowhaunt, and the terrible draining feeling as she stepped through its caves with Stella, Sky, and Layla. She shakes her head. "I didn't mean to upset it. Actually, I didn't even know I was coming here."

Sibylla raises an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"I was...following someone. Checking in."

"On Baltor?"

Bloom inhales sharply. "You know?"

"I've known of him for quite a while. The Wizards believed the mere knowledge of his existence was a bargaining token." The smile on her face is unfriendly; such an uneasy sight it makes the hair on the back of Bloom's neck. "I spoke with him in the days that followed their defeat, and came to the conclusion he was not a threat. Since then, he has been assisting us."

"Assisting? Assisting how?"

The older fairy shrugs, pointedly ignoring the hardness in Bloom's voice. "Spell collecting, mostly. Nebula thought it was a good idea to collect what ancient magic we could, start to build a timeline of magic here. But other than that...translations, occasional sparring matches."

Bloom tries to wrap her head around it; Baltor spending a year working for Sibylla. An entire year she knew nothing about. The tense feeling in her chest comes back. "You know he has an entire collection of books in his apartment, right? If they were meant for you -"

"I am aware," Sibylla cuts her off with a raised hand. "Of course if the books do not aid us, Baltor is more than welcome to take them. I have no qualms with him - slowly - rebuilding his powers. Especially since most of their dark tendencies are gone."

"...Oh."

She raises an eyebrow again, but this time it's more friendly than condescending. "I see the two of you are not speaking, presently. Or getting along, based on the cave's reaction to you."

Bloom feels her cheeks darken. "No. Not particularly. I don't suppose he's told you why."

"He has." The admission catches Bloom by surprise. "He brought it up to be before your sister's deposition - and I was forwarded the deposition, as the Major Fairies here are keeping up with the dimension's events. It was as he told me it occurred. For the most part."

"Most part? What'd he leave out, trying to kill me?" Bloom can't help her cold tone, the way she automatically crosses her arms.

"Decidedly not. He left out the romantic implications - or that your sister possessed them. I wasn't upset by it. Or," Sibylla gives her a look. "Not nearly as upset as you."

The calm tone in her voice is slowly driving Bloom insane. "So that's it then? You're just...fine with it?"

She sighs, almost disappointed. "Of course not, my dear. I am...disappointed. But I also was not surprised. Something of that nature, given his dark magic and levels of influence -"

Bloom throws her hands up in frustration. "Everyone keeps saying that! That I shouldn't be so angry Baltor did it, given his track record. But I am! It's been awhile since the Wizards attacked Tir Nan Og; are you still mad at them?"

Immediately her stomach tightens in embarrassment, but to Sibylla's credit she doesn't give Bloom a dark look. Instead, her expression becomes thoughtful. "I believe there is a difference," she says finally. "Between Baltor and the Wizards. When offered a chance of forgiveness, Ogron and his men wasted it. Baltor has seemed to take his opportunity and make the best of it. But to answer your question; yes. I am still angry. I will likely continue to be angry for a long time. And I can either let that control me, cloud my judgement, or I can work to move past it. I choose to do the latter."

The anger building in Bloom's chest dissipates. "You make it sounds so easy," she mutters.

A hand rests on her shoulder. "I fear my relationship with the Wizards was far less complicated than yours."

Bloom blushes, refusing to meet her eye. "I...I don't know what to think about my relationship with Baltor. In any sense."

"Then perhaps you should take some time alone and figure that out. Not for your planet, not for Baltor, but for yourself."

Bloom shakes her head. "What if I don't like the answer?"

"You may not. But at least you'll know the answer."

Sibylla lets her shoulder go, and steps back. "I must return. Of course you are aware of the rules of the cave -"

"Only those with good intentions can enter." Bloom sighs and looks back at the opening in the rocks. "I didn't come here to be nice, so it threw me out."

"Yes. But unless you plan to come back in the near future, you shouldn't have an issue. You will not need to run the trials again."

It's the first piece of good news she's heard all day. "Thank you. And tell the cave...well, sorry, I guess."

"I believe it knows, but I appreciate your sentiments."

Bloom takes a deep breath. "Sibylla. If I can ask, what's your opinion of all this? On us?"

The Major Fairy pauses, and turns back to look at Bloom. "My abilities have shown me different visions, or pieces of them. For better or for worse, you and Baltor are connected. Much more intensely than two people who share the a magic source normally are. There could be many reasons behind it; that you both operated on virtually opposite ends of that power, or that for almost a year, you were the only two accessing it."

Something in her tone makes Bloom's heart speed up. "Which do you believe?"

"I'm not sure. But I do believe letting that connection die out would not be in either of you best interests. That doesn't mean you need to become romantically involved...but it is not surprising you've been led to that point."

All she can do is nod. "Thank you."

"Of course, dear. It's always a pleasure."

Sibylla turns and walks away, not stopping again. Bloom watches her go, rubbing at her temples as she feels a headache coming on. But instead of dispersing the tingling, the feeling in her head gets stronger.

Bloom looks up. Sibylla is just inside the cave, her head bent talking to someone just out of view. The feeling in her head gets more intense, and after a moment she knows what it is. Her stomach drops.

She should stay. She really should stay, given what Sibylla had just said. But insteads Bloom says the words of a transportation spell, keeping her eyes on the cave as she does so. Sibylla reaches out to the person she's talking to, and then turns and walks inside.

A figure starts to emerge, and the last thing Bloom sees before she disappears is a booted leg.

In light of recent events, it doesn't feel right posting this chapter without addressing them. I chose London as a setting not only for previously mentioned reasons, but also because I've visited many times and it holds a special place in my heart. I stand with it residents, and offer my sincerest condolences to them during this time.