S1E13 "A Great Secret Revealed"
Mid-fall was marked by its bonfires.
Lake Roccaluce's perimeter was set aglow almost every night, bringing fairies, witches, and specialists to its graveled shores. The weekend before fall break, Bloom and her friends sat on logs and ate their way through three bags of marshmallows. Metal skewers dipped in and out of the flames past sunset.
"Now, you see-" Timmy mumbled. Flora, Musa, and Tecna sat near him. "With proper technique-"
Graham crackers and chocolate in one hand, he slid his toasted marshmallow between them. He then admired his creation, turning it around as the girls quietly clapped. Fascinated, Musa grabbed enough materials to make one herself.
"Behold..." He grinned. "...the marshmallow sandwich!"
"S'more."
Timmy looked up.
"On Earth? Where Bloom's from?" Stella said. She and Sky were tightly wrapped in blankets. "They're called s'mores."
Timmy gave her an incredulous look.
"Really?" He asked Bloom, who sat nearby.
On the quietest log of the three, Bloom and Brandon toasted separate marshmallows in silence. He'd lent her his jacket, which she appreciated, but found unnecessary. Bloom nodded in reply, while Brandon kept a watchful eye on his skewer.
"Aww man..." Timmy sulked amongst the giggling girls. "I was gonna get a patent and everything..."
"Um." Flora viewed his uneaten s'more, watching as chocolate dripped towards the ground. "I think it's melting."
"Shit!"
He quickly stuffed the entire thing into his mouth, groaning as he chewed through the pain. Tecna helped Musa assemble hers, and with an excited thumbs up, she devoured it and groaned just the same.
Timmy felt his burned tongue. "Earthlings are masochists."
Stella laughed, blowing off the smoldering marshmallow that was brought to her lips. She then gestured for Sky to open his mouth, who gladly accepted the offering.
Bloom managed a giggle as well, but it quickly faded once she saw Brandon's face.
A strange dynamic had emerged between them-periods of endless humor and light-hearted teasing, followed by stiff behavior on Brandon's part. Hot, then cold, or friendly, then distant. The most notable change was the sudden hardening of his facial expression, which bore an uncomfortable resemblance to how it did at the Black-Mud Swamp. It made him seem upset, and following precedent, suggested she'd done something wrong.
Light from the bonfire casted wild shadows across their bodies. Bloom had gathered enough courage to speak, expecting to receive a dismissive one-liner in return. Still, something needed to be said-she'd hate to spend the next seven days feeling uncertain.
Bloom side-glanced.
"Are you okay?"
Brandon's head dipped in her peripheral vision, now angled towards the ground.
"I'm alright." He said, though Bloom had already predicted the words. "How are-"
"Good." Bloom curtly replied.
Brandon looked at her. The cold expression had begun to crack, starting with the return of his watery eyes. Abandoning his current thought, he removed the skewer from the flames and watched the smoke wisp off his near-burnt marshmallow. After blowing on it an excessive amount of times, he placed it into his mouth.
She also removed hers, which by then was cragged by charred black sections. The taste was a bit off, and the texture was grainy, but it was still satisfying nonetheless.
After placing fresh marshmallows on their respective skewers, the silence continued.
Something was different, though. His demeanor was certainly more welcoming, and even one of his knees now angled towards her direction. Soon the rest of his body followed, and as their knees touched, his hardened expression dissolved.
"Bloom..." He sighed through his nose. "I'm sorry."
She retracted her skewer, shocked by his straight-forwardness.
"It's so stupid, I swear. One moment I'm fine-" Brandon's gaze rose to the starlit sky. "-and the next..."
He mocked his former expression, furrowing his brow and pouting in the bonfire's direction. Bloom grinned, and laughed once he started mumbling and whining in self-pity.
"I hate it, you know?" He chuckled out. "Just ruins the whole mood."
"Your face just kinda..." Bloom replied. "...glazes over, sometimes. Like you're pissed off or something."
"Well, that-" He said, gripping his jaw. "That's just Eraklyon for you. We're all stony-faced."
"Really?"
He nodded. "Even the kids."
Well, that couldn't be true for everyone, could it? Bloom looked over at Prince Sky, a boy famous for his megawatt smile and warm personality. Even now, he played flirtatiously with Stella, both stuffing each other's faces with marshmallows until their cheeks bulged.
Bloom nodded in his direction. "What about Sky, though?"
"Yup." Brandon replied. "Him, too."
Loud, muffled laughter erupted from the neighboring log.
"Just not right now." A grin formed on his face. "Now doesn't count."
"Why?"
After swallowing, the couple nuzzled closer beneath their shared blankets. Using his thumbs, Sky wiped marshmallow remnants from Stella's lips. The look that was shared between them, so tender and helplessly affectionate, gave Bloom her answer.
"He's in love."
Bloom broke her gaze to steal a glance at Brandon's grinning face. He met her eyes, scanning over her features with a softening expression.
Are you?
It was a thought they both shared, without knowing it. Each had their respective answers in mind, but Bloom hoped, with all her heart, that his answer was secretly 'yes'.
Without warning, a hint of sadness clouded his face. Just barely there, and brief in its appearance. He slowly looked away, pulling at the black elastic secured to his wrist. His grin eventually returned, smaller in size, as she rested her head on his shoulder.
"It's rare," Brandon said quietly. "Back home."
She didn't move.
"Hmm?"
"To marry for love."
Bloom's eyes widened, surprised by his words.
Royal courting among teenagers, as Bloom learned, was a common occurrence within the Magic Dimension. Stella had once listed off the many young suitors she'd acquired by her sixteenth birthday, with only one (or two, at this point) ever maintaining her interest. It made Bloom laugh to think about it-an extravagant lifestyle straight out of her fairytales, where high-profile engagements could end in shopping mall parking lots, or at the backs of school classrooms.
But that was here, in Magix. In other realms, things were different. Judging from what Brandon described, courting in Eraklyon was far more traditional-restrictive, even. Romance, as it seemed, was an unfamiliar term there.
Prince Sky rubbed Stella's hands, before bringing them to his cheeks for warmth. He then kissed them like precious gems, being careful not to mar their smooth surfaces. As far as anyone knew, romance was surely the couple's strongpoint.
"They'll be the exception, then?" Bloom said optimistically. "Right?"
"...No."
He tugged at the elastic again, creating enough tension for it to snap against his wrist. Like clockwork, the cold, hardened expression returned to his face.
"No?" She asked in a cautious tone.
Brandon slowly shook his head, failing to blink.
"There's a lot of..." He started. The words sounded bitter. "...politics involved."
Bloom raised her head from his shoulder. She started to grow worried at how loud the snaps were getting, not to mention the red line forming as well.
"Alfea and Red Fountain are like free-for-alls. Where you meet people, make friends, and date around. For the fun of it." Brandon explained. "Just royal teens being teenagers, while they still can."
Bloom remembered the Welcoming Gala, and the rapid pairings that occurred. Hell, dozens of new relationships sprouted a few weeks afterward.
"It's fun. It's...exciting. But when the time comes-" He continued. "-you succeed the throne, and your future is decided-"
Brandon paused, probably starting to feel the burn of his relentless snaps. Bloom brought the zipper of her borrowed jacket closer to her neck.
"You can only accept, break up..." He eyed Sky and Stella. "...and move on."
He then eyed her, now strangely upset.
"That's just how it is."
The snapping ceased entirely, which Bloom noticed with relief.
"He knows that." He muttered. "They both do."
She found the anger odd at first, though this changed after viewing the relationship from Brandon's perspective. Brandon was Prince Sky's squire, but he was first and foremost his friend. Best friend, in fact. He'd seen the pair's beginnings, and watched them grow into the delightful couple they were today. Yet one negotiation and forced betrothal later, the genuine love they shared would amount to nothing, and be discarded. The cruelty of it all would anger anyone.
"But Sky's the future king of Eraklyon." Bloom quietly said. "Once he's in charge, won't he be able to change that?"
Brandon let out a low laugh. Having nearly forgotten, he placed his skewer into the flames.
"It's not that simple, Bloom." He replied. "Trust me."
Stella shot Bloom a look from across the bonfire. Slumped on her shoulder was a drowsy Prince Sky, head now blanketed by a curtain of long blonde hair. She beamed, excitedly pointing at him as if she'd hit the jackpot. Bloom beamed back, trying to remain positive despite Brandon's troubling words.
"I just-I can't picture them apart, you know?" Bloom said. "They're like...inseparable."
There was a pause, followed by a long-winded sigh.
"You'd be surprised," He sounded tired, if not jaded. "What his father is capable of."
Prematurely, he removed his skewer, revealing a puffy, off-white marshmallow without a toasted shell. Bloom's was long overdue by then-when her skewer was removed, only charred ash remained. She flicked off the crumbling pieces.
He examined his marshmallow. This time, it was blown only once.
"Let them enjoy this. While it lasts."
And with that said, the marshmallow was eaten.
As the night carried on, the cold air dipped from chilly to biting, and conversations devolved into silence on all sides. Most were exhausted (Sky and Musa especially) and longing for bed. Timmy pawed around his now empty bag of marshmallows, before stealing another bag for himself.
Tecna rose to her feet. "It's getting pretty late, guys."
"Yeah..." Sky yawned. "...we should probably head back."
"Wait-wait-" Timmy secured a final marshmallow in his hands. "One last s'more. For the road."
He hastily shoved it onto his skewer and into the bonfire. The others gathered around to watch, with Bloom leaning over on her knees as the marshmallow swelled and cooked amongst the flames. But with improper assemblage, the marshmallow quickly began to slide off.
"Oh shit-" Timmy shook his head. "Nonono-"
Impulsively, Bloom reached out to catch it. As expected, a freak-out ensued; panicked yelling rang out, alarming the surrounding bonfire groups. Among the commotion was Stella's cursing, Sky's scolding, and Flora's squeaking cries. Brandon yanked Bloom's hand from the flames, expecting the most gruesome of skin burns.
Instead, it emerged unscathed.
"How is-" He struggled to say, turning Bloom's hand back and forth. "You-you're not-"
"The fuck, Bloom?!" Stella clutched her chest. "Trying to give me a heart attack?!"
She hadn't felt a thing. Well-maybe the tiniest hint of warmth, for a couple of seconds. Bloom raked through her memories, trying to remember if she'd always possessed this trait.
"Uh-" Timmy gawked. "H-How does your hand feel?"
Bloom wiggled her fingers. "...Good?"
He looked disturbed.
"So..." He blinked. "...earthlings are masochists, then."
"Timmy!" Flora chastised.
Brandon continued holding her hand, confused by her uninjured palm. Sky, Tecna, and Flora took the liberty of thoroughly dousing the bonfire with river water, dampening the embers, and reclaiming their trash and skewers.
"Wow." Brandon widened his eyes. "How...convenient?"
"Pretty..." Bloom smirked. "...handy, actually."
Brandon groaned, hiding his laugh. After squeezing her miracle hand tight and interlocking their fingers, they followed behind the others and returned towards the campus trails.
Among the wet sticks and logs, the marshmallow remained.
Two days later, the first day of fall break commenced. Most students packed for balmy weather in distant realms, or admired the seasonal beauty of Magix's countryside. But Riven's day started within the dark, incensed confines of Darcy's bedroom, where he embraced her. In the silence, came his gratitude.
Thank you. His face disappeared into the crook of her neck. Thank you, thank you, thank you...
It had taken quite a few times. While he'd improved at censoring his thoughts, these slip-ups, paired with Darcy's growing suspicions, all came to a terrible head the night before. They took turns acknowledging each other's hypocrisy-Riven's failure to keep his promise, and Darcy's wish for cruel retaliation. More arguing ensued, ending in rapid, low-blow comments. Yet not a single word was uttered aloud. The emotional tirade had existed only within their minds.
It was a personal hell, begrudgingly shared between them.
But that was all irrelevant now. Spite was strong, but the bond's pull was stronger. No amount of fighting-truly nothing, could ever split them apart.
And with that fact, came Darcy's will to compromise.
I'm still mad. Her nails began to dig into his sides. Know that.
Riven sighed. I never said you weren't.
You've never said a lot of things-
We're not starting that again. Fuck- Riven gripped her tighter. Just let me thank you, please.
Her hands wrapped around to his back, where she brushed over his shoulder blades. Without warning, pointless tears began to fall from her eyes. They felt misplaced, but deep down, she knew the cause; a potent mix of her jealousy and stubborn affections, followed by her dwindling sense of trust. She wanted to squeeze him tighter, tight enough to keep him there-to prevent him from leaving.
You better tell me what happens now. Everything. She tried to hide her sniffling. Tell me everything she says-or does, or-
Yes. Riven kissed her collarbone. That means at some point, you'll hear her opinion on every season of Singing with the Stars.
Darcy groaned. Okay, maybe not-
They're in the double digits, by the way. Riven chuckled. Like, thirty of them in total.
Yeah...um. He could feel her shoulders start to shake. Leave that all out, please.
You sure? There's some pretty decent ranting involved.
He even began humming the show's annoyingly catchy theme song, which sent them both into fits of trembling laughter. But still, her tears remained, contrasting her wide smile.
Fine. I'll hear it.
They stopped embracing. To Riven's surprise, he had teared up as well. He wiped his wet eyes with an index finger, looking incredibly confused.
Why are you crying?
I'm not...trying to? Riven kept wiping his face. Just came out of nowhere...
They looked into each other's eyes. The familiar flickering occurred, and it finally clicked to them what was happening.
Phase three.
Darcy managed a weak smile. Tears dripped off their eyelashes, obstructing their vision.
How sweet.
Meanwhile, in the brighter, fancier kitchenette of the Trix's apartment, stood Darcy's sisters.
Icy was basking in front of the opened refrigerator, spooning through a mason jar of overnight oats. At the table, Stormy's bag of cereal refused to budge, and she began frantically searching for a pair of scissors. A comically large butcher knife was found instead, which she used to stab the plastic casing.
"I-just want-" Her stabs grew more intense. "Some fuckin'-PUFFS-"
The refrigerator door was pushed closed, revealing Icy's curious expression.
The stabs continued until the bag of cereal popped open. The blade sliced through, nicking Stormy's middle finger in the process.
"Oop-" Icy muttered, eating her last spoonful of oats. "Careful."
Stormy immediately brought the finger to her lips, hoping to numb the pain. The attempt was futile, producing only a metallic taste and sharp burning sensation. She poured the bag's contents into a nearby bowl, plopped in a spoon, and called it a day.
She stuffed her mouth. "There's gotta be a spell for this shit."
"Well..." Icy smirked. "If you ask it nicely-"
Stormy stopped chewing. "Shut up."
The Trix had experienced three fall breaks during their time at Cloud Tower. First year, they'd spent the week cavorting around Icy's mountain lodge. During their second, they'd attended seven days worth of hangouts, brawls, and house parties, and hosted a few of their own. But in their final year, whether through maturity or a growing disdain for others, they'd decided on remaining at home.
"Riven stayed, right?"
"Yeah." Icy rinsed her mason jar in the sink. "If he hadn't, she'd be out here with us."
Dangerously curious, Stormy left her spot at the kitchenette counter and approached Darcy's bedroom door. She listened for noises-with exception of Cloud Tower's usual creaking, there was nothing to be heard.
"I dunno...it's quiet in there." Stormy's eyes narrowed. "Too quiet."
"Alright-" Icy rolled her eyes, making her way over as well. "Get away from the door."
Taking steps backward, she stretched out and cracked her knuckles before shifting into a ramming stance. On the silent count of three, Icy rushed the door. Instead of swinging open as planned, it remained shut, and Icy fell over in pain as she braced her left shoulder. The loud thump produced two sets of laughter from inside.
Darcy's voice came first. "Locked, bitches."
Riven's came second. "Was that Icy?"
"Fuck!" Icy yelled.
After hearing her, he laughed even harder.
Stormy grew hysterical, nearly doubling over on her knees as Icy groaned and sprawled out across the floor. A blast of snow was angled directly towards her face. The door was unlocked, and Riven and Darcy emerged to help each girl to their feet.
"Ugh-Fine." Icy strained out. "I'll stop now!"
"Good." Darcy teased. "Your shoulder will thank you."
"Ew!" As the snow melted, Stormy rubbed her numb face. "Terrible sensation! Wouldn't recommend it."
"Want more?!"
The couple watched as they chased each other across the apartment, with crackling magic echoing out at random intervals. In their absence, Riven managed to sneak in yet another appreciative hug, which Darcy half-heartedly reciprocated.
She broke off the hug and crossed her arms. Have fun babysitting today.
Stormy yelped, followed by the sound of crashing objects.
Riven raised his eyebrows. You as well.
They exchanged smiles.
After some weeks, Cloud Tower's perpetual shifting had blessed the apartment with a gift-a brand new balcony window. Riven pushed back the shuttered doors, causing sunlight to paint the dungeon-esque living room with color. They both winced, but Riven's eyes had grown accustomed to the pain.
I'll be back tonight. Riven held one of her hands. Will it kill you to leave this unlocked?
Maybe. She stroked his fingers. It just might.
Darcy...
After meeting his eyes, she sighed.
He stepped backward onto the balcony, while Darcy stepped forward. One by one, their fingers separated, until both detached, and Riven's body was screened by the sun's rays. Darcy stopped just short of the balcony's threshold, standing close enough to inhale the crisp morning air. Close enough to view the clouds, or really any part of the daytime world. By bright, perilous yellow, was the border clearly marked.
Riven's wind-rider uncloaked, now visible behind the wrought-iron railing. Nodding his head downward as a farewell gesture, he mounted and switched gears to descend. Just then, Icy and a snow-capped Stormy came barreling towards Darcy's location.
"And-" Icy paused to take in a breath. "And where is he going, exactly?"
"Did he forget something?" Stormy added, brushing off the top of her head.
Ignoring them, Darcy dared to outstretch a finger towards the sunlight. Her purple nail polish shimmered as it made contact. The yellow inched up her skin, and she could feel warmth within her upturned palm. Of course, Darcy knew what day was like; she didn't enjoy it in the slightest. Yet now, for some strange reason, she found herself amazed at its occurrence.
She rescinded her hand. "He'll be back."
"Well, yeah." Icy rolled her eyes. "From where..."
Darcy turned to face her sisters. A look appeared; it was sullen, yet marked by a twinge of annoyance. She pursed her glossed lips and blinked, now a secret code shared between them.
"No." Icy began to grimace. "No. No, you didn't."
Stormy gawked. "Darcy..."
Darcy closed the shuttered doors, taking final glimpses of the outside before enveloping the living room in darkness once more.
"I did." She said in passing, retreating to her bedroom.
"How generous of me."
Riven zoomed past the junction point, creating a game out of avoiding debris in his path. Whistling emerged behind his left ear, suggesting a broken seal. With a press of his jaw, his helmet retracted, and he once again squinted at the sun's bright rays. The colorful scenery revealed afterward was worth the strain-vibrant reds, oranges, yellows, and mixtures between them painted the surrounding trees. The closer to Alfea he drove, the more vibrant these colors became.
He retrieved his phone-in his excitement, he'd forgotten to ask first.
The call was quickly answered, but on the other end was a commotion of toppling objects and running water.
"Mr. Riven!" She coughed out. "H-Hey!"
"Uh-" He started to grin. "Are you alright?"
"Yup!"
"You sure?" He pressed. "Is this a bad time?"
"No-no-" Her voice muffled. "Not at all!"
Riven listened on, hearing echoing, wet footsteps and panicked mutterings. He tried to hide his laughter, but an audible snort after she slipped quickly gave him away.
Riven wasn't buying it. "Musa?"
"Riven?" She mirrored.
"I think-" He decelerated. "I think I'm gonna turn around."
"You're coming right now?!"
"Nope."
"RIVEN!"
"I'm turning around, Moose." Riven's wind-rider slowed to a stop. "I'll call you later."
"WAIT!" She blurted out. "How-How far away are you? Minutes-wise?"
"I dunno..." He shrugged. "...five?"
"Good! Good." Musa sighed with relief. "That's all I need! Keep driving!"
"Alright." Riven's grin became an all-out smile. The engine shifted out of its idle state, and he continued on down the backroads.
"Put some clothes on."
"W-What?! I'm not-" Musa half-laughed. "That's-"
"Please."
He then promptly ended the phone call.
Those five minutes quickly passed, and before long Alfea's fancy winged entrance came into view. Entering the courtyard, he watched as Musa stumbled her way down the stairway chamber and towards his location. He grinned wider with each step, taking note of her water-drenched hair and clothing.
"Your shirt's on backwards!"
"I know!" Musa yelled back, smiling wide at his presence. "That's how I wanted it!"
Her gait slowed, and whether from being anxious or cold, she wrapped her arms across her chest. Wet bangs swirled around the sides of her face, and every so often she wiped her brow of droplets. The longer she stood, the more he leaned towards the latter-she squeezed herself harder to hide her shivering.
"Good morning." She said quietly. A droplet slid down her nose bridge.
"Good day." He replied.
A realization dawned on her face, and she beamed at the almost prophetic word choice. Riven rolled his eyes and nodded. By coincidence, they'd met during the daytime after all.
"I know it's not night, but..." Musa stifled another shiver. "I am alone, bored, and awake."
"With nothing to do?" He finished.
She smiled. "Not a single thing, my dude."
"Well then," Riven dismounted, unfastening the collar of his jacket. "Me and Riven-"
"Both of you?" Musa raised an eyebrow.
"Yes." He said. "We're kindly inviting you to hang out with us."
"You are?"
"Us. Him and-" Riven gave her a confused look. "Me? We? Fuck-wait a minute..."
Musa briefly laughed-the sound was sweet, and a bit infectious. It hadn't been long since he'd heard it, but he found himself pleasantly surprised each time he did.
"So, now?" She asked afterward. "Today?"
"Today...tomorrow...I dunno, maybe Tuesday." Riven started to count with his fingers. "How many days are in a week, again?"
"Wait-"
Riven crossed his arms, secretly just as excited by the words as she was. Wide, matching smiles grew on both of their faces. As if exchanging a secret, she touched his arm and lowered her voice.
"We get to spend break together?!" Musa whispered out.
He leaned in a bit to maintain their discretion.
"Mhm." He whispered back. "With Darcy's permission."
The second announcement made her almost vibrate with joy. A tiny sound escaped her mouth-a cross between a squeal and a laugh, that suggested she'd been temporarily overwhelmed. Musa playfully smacked his arm, doing so repeatedly until issuing a wet hug.
He patted the seat of his wind-rider. "Hop on."
She placed a leg over, hoisting herself up like a champ. Her legs made an uncomfortable reach for the footrest, but this issue was quickly solved as Riven secured a seat behind her. He scooted in pretty close, and feeling his knees lock her in place made Musa quietly gasp.
"I'm in front?"
"Safety precaution. You're slippery as hell." He teased. "Wanna fall off instead?"
Musa shook her head, splashing him with water droplets. He then searched some of the hidden storage compartments, handing her a metal pod she assumed to be a helmet.
"How fast do you usually go?" She asked as he continued searching for things.
"Fast enough." He replied. "And then some."
Riven's face suddenly loomed over her shoulder.
"Says I average around..." He squinted. "Eighty-three miles per hour."
Musa gawked.
"Hmm." He said quietly. "Let me check some things..."
Riven swiped through the controls. The wind-rider's dashboard screen was a mess of buttons, glyphs and shimmering panels, which Musa stared at in awe. He muttered to himself, but stopped after noticing Musa's fidgeting.
"What's wrong?"
"It-um-" Her shoulders hiked. "It tickles?"
Her face was changing colors-a faint pink that clouded along her cheeks. She turned away to keep him from seeing, pretending to sift through the pockets of her slouchy sweater and jeans.
He grinned, covering her closest ear and lowering his voice. "Sorry."
After making some minor adjustments, Riven powered up the engine and switched between gears. He tapped Musa's shoulder to get her attention, instructing her on how to unfurl the helmet. Next, she reached for the handlebars. The idea of holding her waist briefly flashed across his mind, but he ignored it. By balance (and the strength of his core muscles) alone, he'd keep himself upright.
"Alright-" Riven said. "On the count of three."
Musa's grip tightened, and she angled her thumb over the accelerator.
His feet pressed into the footrests. "One-"
The wind-rider immediately zipped forward, and he wrapped his arms around her anyway. Musa's steering was erratic, and their chaotic path continued as they reached the backroads. The fallen branches and displaced rocks he'd avoided before came back into view-her reaction time was far slower though, enough to make him laugh at her late, swerving movements.
"There's, like-" Musa swerved to the right, then left. "-stuff everywhere!"
"Yeah, I-woah!" He was knocked sideways, now holding her waist in a death grip. "We'll get past it eventually! Just-drive straight, okay?!"
Musa laughed. "I'm trying!"
They continued. Riven discreetly dialed up the stabilizers, smoothing things out enough for them to enjoy the scenery. Musa was just as entranced by the colorful trees as he was.
Riven patted her side. "Have you eaten yet?"
Musa's head turned. "I had some juice."
"So no?"
After some thought, she nodded.
"Good. Because I know a place." He replied. "I know a lot of places, actually."
Musa slowed as they approached the junction, cruising them around the left turn towards the main roadway. The current traffic was mild, but still noisy when heard all at once. Riven became worried as they sputtered towards the accelerating lane.
"A little faster, Moose!"
Musa did the opposite, and gradually slowed to a stop. She was silent, swiveling her head at each car that passed. It was clear that she was uncomfortable now, so he made the kind, gentlemanly move of switching their arrangement.
"Sorry!" Musa yelled over the noise. "It's scary as hell out there!"
"Hey-Don't worry! I got it!" Riven replied, looking over his shoulder. "Hold on tight!"
She scooted in close. "I will!"
Musa didn't hesitate to wrap her hands around his torso-she squeezed him tightly, and even interlocked her fingers. What caught him off guard was the gentle press of her face into his back. They were flush now, with not a visible space between them. Darcy could phase and teleport; she had no need for driving, and rarely accompanied him this way. To have someone back there now, fitted like a shell-it felt almost...comforting.
"Riven-"
"Oh-" His mind dipped back into the fray. "Sorry-here we go!"
Riven pressed down hard on the accelerator, and a few seconds lapsed before the wind-rider caught up with him. The engine flared, and like a racer, he dipped around the surrounding vehicles. Musa's screams became wild laughter as her adrenaline kicked in, while blurred streaks of color danced in their wake.
The sunrise crept further into the sky, fading the gold line across the horizon.
By then, Riven already knew. At nearly ninety miles per hour, he knew.
Mornings, sunshiny mornings, had become his favorite.
On Earth, in a clearing pocked by divots and mangled trees, landed Bloom. Stella did as well, conveniently on top of her, followed by a large red suitcase. Kiko appeared last, and began excitedly bouncing around their bodies.
Stella shot up. "Damnit."
Bloom rubbed her smushed face, scanning the all too familiar scene.
"This is..." She frowned. "...Gardenia Park."
"Hey-" Stella looked around. "We're getting warmer, at least?"
She had a point; the last two teleports had left them just short of the highway. Bloom's house was only a couple blocks from here, and she wouldn't mind the walk, given today's beautiful weather. They pulled each other to their feet, and with a lift of Bloom's suitcase, the trio set off towards town.
Grass soon changed to concrete, and several nearby shops grew busy with conversing people. Carved pumpkins of various sizes lined stairs and entryways, along with a host of other Halloween-themed decorations. A local coffee shop wafted out cinnamon and pumpkin spice, and Stella briefly stopped in her tracks to sniff before Bloom tugged her forward.
"Hm. I guess you're right," Stella muttered as they turned another block. "Gardenia's not too different, after all."
"Told you." Bloom replied. "Just needs some floating cars."
"Definitely." Stella looked back. "And Magix needs pumpkin spice lattes..."
They passed a bookstore guarded by a life-sized, cackling witch animatronic. Stella poked its nose in passing. After leaving the commercial sector and rounding the second block, Bloom began to recognize her old neighborhood.
Stella nudged into her. "Ready to see them?"
Bloom found herself distracted by minor details-the chips in the concrete sidewalk, and the random spray-painted lines along some of the curbs. Stella craned forward, concerned at Bloom's lack of response.
She hesitated before answering. "Yup."
"Wow." Stella fixed her posture. "Don't get too excited..."
"No, I am! It's just-" Bloom switched the suitcase to her opposite hand. "-it's been a while."
Sure, she'd called them often-at random points throughout the semester, whenever the chance arrived. But as of today, Bloom had not physically seen her parents in months. The realization brought her heavy feelings of shame, and even minor embarrassment.
She sighed. "I should've called earlier..."
"What, to warn them?" Stella scoffed. "Honey-"
"What if they're not even there? What if Dad's at work, or-"
"It's literally your house." Stella fluttered her eyelashes. "You can unlock it yourself."
Bloom didn't remember packing a set of house keys.
"How?"
Stella stopped walking, bugging her eyes. In one smooth motion she turned to face her. Bloom rubbed her nape until a quick pulse of white, sparkling light escaped from Stella's fingers.
"Oh." Bloom sheepishly replied. "Right."
"Listen, you have nothing to worry about, okay?" Stella reassured. "At least you're not grounded all week like a damn child."
"And who's fault is that, again?"
"Griselda's!" Stella's eyes rolled. "I said sorry, like, weeks ago! But he got the stupid letter anyway-you know what, it is her fault actually, for not catching me in the first place!"
The girls continued forward, laughing as they went, until catching sight of the green brick-work that faced Bloom's home. Months away had nearly wiped the sight from her memory, but with each step closer, her nostalgia returned in full force.
"There it is..."
Kiko crawled up Bloom's shoulder. Reaching the threshold was nerve-wracking for her enough, causing Stella to take the lead by knocking at the door. The sounds of muttering voices and quick footsteps came from behind it, and with a click and slide of the lock, Bloom's gawking parents greeted them.
"Bloom?!" Vanessa said, clutching the door frame. Mike quickly rushed to her side, looking just as surprised.
"Mom! Dad!" Bloom hugged them both. "H-Hi!"
The interaction became a squealing match, and at least a dozen more hugs and kisses were exchanged between them. Even Stella was drawn in, squeezed into the family hug and pulled towards the kitchen area.
On a serving plate lay a small stack of chocolate chip pancakes, which Bloom fondly remembered as one of their old Sunday traditions. More breakfast staples, like scrambled eggs and bacon, lined the stoves. The oven below it radiated heat, suggesting one of her mother's baking experiments.
"It's not a lot, sorry-but I can easily make more if you're hungry!" Vanessa offered, clearing spots at the dining table. "Stella, would you like some?"
"I'd love some, but-," Stella eyed the clock on the wall. "If my father waits any longer, he'll probably combust."
Vanessa smiled and laughed, but Mike's face began to show signs of fearful concern. Already acquainted with magic, even Stella's jokes could be based in reality.
"Do people there..." Mike's eyes widened. "...actually-"
Stella shot Bloom a mischievous glance, which made Bloom cover her face in anticipation.
"Oh, yes! A common occurrence in Solaria." Stella leaned in, quieting her voice. "First, you get a burning sensation in your toes-"
"Stella!" Bloom giggled. "Don't freak him out, please."
"Yeah, we don't." She then said, to Mike's relief. "It'd be pretty cool if we did, though."
Vanessa packed Stella a couple pancakes for the road, all for the sake of being generous. Rising from her chair, she gave Bloom a tight hug goodbye before backing up towards the entryway.
"I'm so glad I got to see you both! Thanks for the pancakes! Bloom-" Stella pointed at her. "I'll come back to pick you up, okay?"
"Okay! Bye!" Bloom waved from the table. "See you Saturday!"
With a smile Stella flashed out of existence, catching Bloom's parents by surprise. Vanessa caught the pitcher of orange juice she almost knocked over, while Mike's fork clanged against his plate, sending scrambled eggs onto the tablecloth.
"Still-" Mike cleared his throat. "Still getting used to that."
Bloom shrunk. "Sorry."
She took a bite of her chocolate-chip pancakes-they were fluffy and mildly sweet, as per usual.
"Just a week, then?" Vanessa started refrigerating some of the leftovers. "That's not very long..."
"I know," Bloom replied. "It's better than nothing, I guess."
Vanessa sighed. "We'll just have to make the most of it, won't we?"
She kindly brought Bloom's empty plate into the kitchen. Her father remained quiet, gathering his strewn eggs into a napkin to be discarded.
"Question?" Mike's brow raised. "This...'Brandon' you spoke of-"
"Okay-Dad-" Bloom waved off the comment. "I told you, he's one of my friends."
"A...squire? Like from medieval times?" He continued. "How old is he, exactly? Where do you know 'em from?"
"We're the same age. Like I said." She crossed her arms. "He goes to this other school, for boys."
"Mhm."
Bloom nervously tucked her bangs. "We hang out a lot."
"Both of you?" Mike's tone changed. "Together?"
Vanessa continued washing dishes. "Mike-"
"No, like-the entire friend group-we all hang out on the weekends." Bloom clarified, annoyed at her flushing face. "Well-if they're not on missions, or whatever...um..."
"Right." Mike didn't seem too convinced. "Has he ever-"
"Michael!" Vanessa returned to the dining room. "Sorry, honey. Your father's being very nosy-"
"Listen...I've been reading some pretty serious stuff-"
"He's been checking out fairy books at the library since August." Vanessa teased. "Everyday he's rambling about herbs, iron horseshoes-turning clothes inside out? He's clearly obsessed now-"
"Don't eat any of the food he offers you! Or take any gifts, period!" Mike blurted out. "You haven't given him your name yet, have you?"
Bloom snicked. "Little too late for that, Dad."
He hung his head.
"Besides, he's not a fairy. I am." Bloom added. "Remember?"
Mike sheepishly nodded, while Vanessa took his cleared plate and let out a laugh. Without anyone noticing, the ceiling had begun to swirl with smoke, followed by a faint burning smell. Bloom's father continued to pester her about "the dangers of the fairy world", but soon stopped as the scent grew unbearably strong.
Vanessa eyed the ceiling. "What in the..."
She then looked around for the smoke's source. Gazing at the black-screened oven, she gasped.
"Oh!" She rushed back into the kitchen and shoved on an oven mitt. "Damnit, I completely forgot-"
The perimeter of the oven door leaked thick, gray smoke. Opening it revealed a hellish mesh of char and oil-drenched flames. All three fire detectors began screeching from the walls. Vanessa yelped at the growing disaster, retreating backward to gather water from an accessible sink.
"Nope, not for that!" Mike stopped her, grabbing a fire extinguisher instead. "I got it!"
"No!" Bloom intervened. "I do!"
With her bare hands, Bloom took out the smoking muffin tray and placed it onto the countertop. Vanessa and Mike had little time to scold her for doing so, as seconds later, swirling orange magic enveloped the space to extinguish the flames. The air swiftly cleared, while the mess was contained into a single, floating mass before evaporating.
"Ta-da!"
"Bloom?!" Vanessa rushed to grab her hands. "Are you-"
Much like Brandon, she turned Bloom's hands back and forth, feeling for burns or scrapes that she strangely lacked. Her skin remained cold to the touch, only dirtied by the residual char at her fingertips.
"See? No burns!" Bloom smiled. "Isn't that cool?!"
Mike exhaled. "Christ..."
Bloom's smile faded. Her party trick had finally run its course; she hated seeing their faces contort with fear, looking almost afraid of what she'd grown capable of.
"I'm totally fine? Okay?" She glanced between them. "Don't worry."
After patting Bloom's cheek, Vanessa moped at her ruined baking experiment.
"Guess that batch flopped."
"Mike," She opened a cabinet. "Remind me to buy some more flour..."
"I can run and get some?" Using the oven mitt, Bloom scraped the tin's contents into the trash. "I'll just ride over and-"
"You don't have to-"
"Unbleached?" Bloom asked anyway. She didn't mean to be so insistent, but grocery shopping provided a nice excuse for escaping the tense situation she'd created.
Vanessa sighed. "Yes, honey."
In the awkward silence, Bloom maneuvered her way towards the door, securing a set of house keys.
"Just-" Mike returned the fire extinguisher to its hook. "Please be careful."
"I will." She answered. "Just there and back, okay?"
The door was pulled open, but she stopped for a moment to call out to Kiko. Bloom then unlocked her red bicycle from the stairway's side and set off towards town.
Mike and Vanessa exchanged looks after closing back the entrance. Mike's eyes then lingered towards the cluster of family photos along the wall. More specifically, the red-famed picture of a sleeping, infant Bloom.
"Well then." Mike muttered. "That explains...a lot, doesn't it?"
"Yeah." Vanessa muttered back, crossing her arms. With a calm tone, she showed signs of relief.
Bloom arrived at the local grocery store, stuffing Kiko into her hoodie's pocket before entering.
Everything looked just as she'd remembered; seven registers bustling with people, fourteen aisles occasionally stacked with boxes, and a playlist of outdated (but catchy) songs repeating overhead. Cashiers and customers alike seemed to notice her arrival-she had a glow now, a magnetism that grabbed everyone's attention. Passing the stares and friendly, smiling faces, Bloom made it towards the baking aisle.
The section for flour lay on the opposite end. In passing however, Bloom spotted the marshmallows-mini, multi-colored...jumbo-sized. She quickly levitated the bag over for a better look. They were bigger than the ones sold in Magix, and certainly less expensive. Chocolate squares were also placed nearby, adding to the items stashed in her arms. Grabbing the flour she came in for, Bloom hurried into the adjacent aisle. With graham crackers, she'd complete the iconic trio.
But there, with a basket in her grasp, stood Mitzi.
Nothing much had changed, aside from a new belly button piercing and her fading, post-summer tan. She was inspecting a box of pricy macaroons, but quickly stopped as Bloom entered the aisle.
"Well, well, well." Mitzi said, pushing down her glasses. "Look who's back."
She'd left one tense situation, and walked right into another. Just her luck.
"Mitzi..." Bloom muttered back. "Hi."
Mitzi typically preferred the higher-end stores along Gardenia's coast, so it was strange seeing her there. She looked almost disgusted by the low prices and bargain deals, holding items like discarded trash.
Bloom attempted to reach past her for a box of graham crackers, but Mitzi grabbed the box first. Viewing the store-brand label caused an immediate frown, followed by her hastily exchanging the box for a name-brand she preferred.
"So..." Mitzi placed the box in her basket. "Did you, like, drop out or something?"
She was standing directly in front of the graham cracker section, and refused to move.
"No?" Bloom answered, backing out to find another way around. "I switched schools-"
Mitzi whistled and raised a finger, instructing Bloom to stay put. Nosiness was one of her definitive traits; despite wishing to be anywhere else at that moment, it was clear that Bloom would be staying a while.
"It's been three months, Bloomy." She said in a fake-sweet tone. "We have a lot to catch up on."
Bloom blinked. "Ask away."
"So where did you go, exactly?" Mitzi asked. "Gardenia only has a handful of schools. Gardenia High, Westview..."
She couldn't tell her about the Magic Dimension-a few words in, and Mitzi would laugh in her face. Rumors would spread across a town she hardly lived in, only to die out a few months later. But still, she'd know, and refuse to forget. For Bloom, it was an unfavorable decision.
"Nope."
"There's also that academy up the street for..." Mitzi's eyes narrowed. "...special kids. Maybe that's where you went?"
Could she tell her about Alfea, though? Maybe, if she kept the details vague.
"...It's a college." Bloom sighed. "For girls."
Mitzi nearly dropped the box of crackers she was holding. Placing her basket on the ground in front of her, she gave Bloom a look of confused shock.
"You skipped two grades? How-But-" She ducked forward, causing hair to pool past her shoulders. "-didn't you flunk stats?!"
Bloom shrugged, much to Mitzi's annoyance.
"It's pretty...expensive." She said quietly. "Private, too. But they let me in, anyway. "I must be pretty special, after all."
It was nice to see Mitzi upset for once, instead of the opposite. Bloom couldn't help but grin as she watched her manicured hands ball into fists, puffing out like a peacock to reestablish a sense of superiority she no longer had.
"No way." Mitzi crossed her arms and stuck her nose in the air. "I don't believe you."
"Hmm." Bloom said. "Guess that's your problem, then."
She outstretched her hand.
"Could you hand me those cheap, inexpensive, store-brand graham crackers, please?"
With two fingers, Mitzi reluctantly picked up the box. Throughout the entire conversation, her basket had remained almost empty-clearly, she had no use for it. But Bloom sure did, pulling the basket forward and dropping in her arm's contents. The one item Mitzi had was taken out and placed at her feet.
"Thanks." Bloom said, managing a grin.
"Wha-" Mitzi watched as Bloom brushed past her. "Hey!"
But Bloom had already left the aisle-merely a glimpse of fiery red hair, strutting towards checkout.
Arriving at home, Bloom opened a cabinet and placed in the flour she purchased. The dining table, stove, and countertops had all been cleared, though her suitcase remained propped against the wall from earlier. Kiko escaped her hoodie and sniffed the ground for breakfast scraps. Gripping her suitcase's handle in one hand and her groceries in the other, she passed by the living room. Her parents sat nearby, huddled over the family scrapbook.
"Hey, this was years ago!" Mike chuckled out. "Look at those muscles!"
"And that hairline..." Vanessa teased back.
Mike nagged at her, and they both laughed while turning the page.
Bloom carried on, climbing up the stairs with a smile. Her suitcase was giving her trouble though, constantly catching each step's edge. Annoyed, she snapped her fingers, and it glowed with orange magic as it levitated towards the top.
The left-most door contained her bedroom-a literal snapshot of July, with her unmade bed, strewn pajamas, and leather-bound copy of Fairies: Myth or Reality at her desk. Her art stand contained two unfinished drawings, one of which resembling a fairy in appearance. It was a scene so well-preserved, that Bloom felt guilty to have entered it in the first place.
She carefully opened drawers, searching until her old notebooks came into view. After stacking quite a few (with some nearly a decade in age) she moved to her closet, pulling out canvas tubes stashed at the top shelf. This collected mass of nostalgia landed on Bloom's bed with a plop.
Her first pick was a red spiral notebook, thick with additional pages that were hardly secured by the wire coiling. The most recent one, judging from the art style. Lots of fairies, dragons, and other magical creatures, with plants and other details filling the white space that remained.
This was followed by one of her canvas tubes-also recent, and similar to the notebook in terms of content. Acrylics were used now, bringing life to the two-dimensional composition.
This continued for a while, consuming the hours as Bloom leafed through page after page of her memories. The afternoon arrived, along with the growing scent of roasted vegetables. Her mother would call her down for dinner any minute now.
She was almost done-the final dusty, coffee stained notebook and canvas, awaiting her curious eyes. By then her legs had started to grow numb, and her back was sore from being hunched over, but she'd endure it for memory's sake.
The pages were delicate, tearing at the slightest amount of force. Half-finished sketches, half-drawn eyes (this marked her side-bangs era, it seemed), and experimental style changes. Flipping back further, the pages became indecipherable from chicken-scratch. She'd reached the beginnings of her art journey, as well as her childhood.
But a section was different-still crude in technique, but possessing a suspicious amount of detail for a kiddy Bloom to manage. Thick layered crayon made the drawings stand out.
Several pages, picturing a woman drenched in gold. It was shocking to see her, like a slap to the face.
"W-What the-"
All featured a woman clad in linens. A winged, sparkling mask.
It was Daphne.
She splayed out the current page with both hands.
"Daphne?!"
Her trip down memory lane ended, colliding with the present in a chaotic sequence of events. Bloom ripped out the pages, sprawling them about as she lowered off her bed and onto the floor. The woman was undeniably Daphne, and the realization that her reoccurring dreams originated somewhere made her almost yell with excitement.
"No way!" Bloom brought different drawings to her face. "No way!"
She'd have to tell Stella-Flora, Tecna, Musa, too. She'd have to tell someone, anyone later, and have them witness her proof. Dinner would definitely have to wait now.
But one more item remained. Opening the final piece of the puzzle, the decade-old canvas tube, brought about a different reaction. Using her arms to flatten out the curled edges, Bloom was greeted by the color red.
And orange. But mostly red. Faded, pointy-shaped graphite suggested a composition of flames.
"Okay, Bloom." She muttered to herself. "Little heavy with the marker, I see..."
She looked closer. Something else was there. A small shape, in the drawing's center. If she squinted her eyes and leaned in, then maybe...
The air became hot, to the point of being suffocating. Live, three-dimensional flames quickly surrounded her as the bedroom's pink walls shifted black. She could make out the remnants of a charred wooden bannister, connected to a crumbling staircase. And the smoke. Thick, rolling smoke impaired her vision.
It was as if she'd teleported. To a place at the fringes of her memory, familiar in ways she failed to understand.
Bloom walked past the flames, reaching their core. That small shape she'd seen, hidden by marker and scribbled graphite, had in fact been a child. A baby. Peacefully sleeping, and completely unaware of the surrounding danger.
As if compelled to, she reached out. Her fingers drew close, mere inches away from the baby's face.
Heat. Unbearable, suffocating heat. Bloom's immunity began to wane, causing a prickling sensation across her skin and hair. The room around her was closing in, and the flames steadily swelled. Hotter and hotter they grew, consuming the baby that lay outside her grasp. Soon came the groaning of the room's infrastructure, warping downward above her, until...
Bloom!
She was yanked back into reality. The air cooled, and opening her eyes revealed the littered bedroom floor. Bloom struggled to control her breathing, allowing the canvas to roll away towards her desk. Looking up, she noticed her parent's worried faces.
"Mom!" Bloom was helped her to her feet. "Dad!"
"Are you alright, honey? You're crying-" Vanessa wiped her cheeks.
"I saw-there was a-" She sputtered out. "A-And it was all-"
"You saw something?"
"Yeah! Like-" Bloom eyes widened. "-a fire! This huge fire!"
Mike picked up the runaway canvas and viewed the drawing. His expression changed, apparently seeing something that Bloom could not, at least not clearly. He looked at her with concern.
"And this...a tiny little..." Her voice lowered, trying to remember. "...baby?"
Mike's shoulders hiked.
Vanessa stopped fixing Bloom's hair. The room grew quiet, creating yet another tense situation Bloom would experience that day. Her parents exchanged a look-a nervous, almost defeated look, before taking one of Bloom's hands in their grasp.
"Oh boy." Mike sighed out. "Here goes nothing."
Bloom was guided out her bedroom towards the stairs. Mike led her down, while Vanessa walked behind, placing a hand on Bloom's shoulder.
"Um..." Bloom asked. "Where are we going..."
"The living room," Her mother said quietly. "Don't worry."
Mike turned to nod, and the trio resumed their descent down the stairs.
Bloom sat on the couch with her legs drawn in tight. Vanessa left, returning with a plate of roasted chicken and vegetables that was placed at Bloom's side. She then retreated backward, pulling up a dining room chair and taking a seat. In Mike's lap was the family scrapbook.
Mike cleared his throat.
"This isn't an interrogation," He muttered. "I promise."
Vanessa shook her head, trying to suppress an inappropriate laugh. He flipped through some of the scrapbook's pages. Bloom, tucking her bangs behind her ears, silently watched.
"As you probably know," Mike started, landing on a laminated certificate. "You are adopted."
He propped the book up to show her. Bloom slowly nodded, curious about where the conversation was headed.
"Exactly how you were adopted..." He then said. "...probably not."
Mike flipped some more.
"Sixteen years ago, on a cold December night," He looked up. "We got a call for a house fire."
"A very strange case. Empty, abandoned, no gas or electrical." Another page was turned. "How it started in the first place, no one knew."
Bloom felt her stomach growl. Several hours without food was likely the cause, but she refrained from touching her plate.
"Even stranger? In an empty room, surrounded by flames..." Mike's brows raised. "...was a baby."
"You." Vanessa said.
"Me?"
"Yes." Mike nodded. "You."
Bloom wanted to feel surprised; she wanted to feel shocked at hearing the wildly important secret they'd kept from her. But she was too overwhelmed to truly react, staring at her raised knees as the conversation continued.
"Nobody knew how you ended up there. Without a single burn or scratch-nothing on you, whatsoever."
"But we put out the fire...brought you home afterwards." Mike grinned at the collection of photos he came across. "And watched you finally open those pretty eyes of yours..."
Even from where she sat, she immediately recognized the blotches of red hair on the current two pages.
"Bloom. We named you Bloom." Vanessa said, taking the scrapbook and placing it in her lap. "Filled out all the paperwork. Soon enough, you were ours."
The scrapbook was propped up again. An infant and toddler-aged Bloom was the subject of every picture, held in place with fun, shimmering stickers.
"Saw you grow up, day by day..."
One page in particular showed a wide-eyed Bloom, smeared head to toe in peanut butter.
Mike chuckled, rubbing his jaw. "You were quite the handful, kiddo."
Bloom grinned. She grew comfortable enough to lower her legs towards the ground, and even fork around her dinner plate.
"Think we ended up bubble-wrapping you at one point."
"Did it work?" Bloom asked.
Mike and Vanessa exchanged looks, clearly on the verge of laughter.
"Nope."
"See, we planned to wait," Vanessa said. "Until you were old enough to understand. I mean, it already sounds terrifying enough, just imagine how you would've reacted-"
"But now, after everything that's happened..." Mike shook his head. "Is there any point in waiting?"
"It all makes sense." Vanessa said. "The fairytale books, the fire-proof skin? That weird "burning" incident at school-"
"Kid was asking for it, though..." Mike muttered. Vanessa flicked his arm.
"It's all because you're a fairy. You're special, honey." She closed the scrapbook. "And to finally put it all together...it's one hell of a relief, you know?"
"It helps us understand." Mike added. "Take care of you better."
Her eyes began to water. Bloom walked up to her parents, tightly hugging each before stumbling backward. She wiped beneath her eyes, but Vanessa took up the job herself.
"Tomorrow, we'll bring you fresh milk and honey," Mike teased. "And those tiny little cookies."
"Mike-"
"Maybe some dried herbs from the garden-"
Vanessa pointed. "I'm gonna smack you!"
Mike playfully offered his cheek. "Go ahead!"
She gripped his jaw, shaking it a couple times before planting a kiss. Bloom laughed, and was briefly entertained by her father's extensive fairy knowledge. She then picked up her dinner plate and took a long-awaited bite. After swallowing, Vanessa received an excited nod of approval.
"Thank you!"
Bloom turned to enter the kitchen for a second plate, but stopped just short of the entryway.
"And thank you, again." She smiled at her parents. "For telling me."
After seven days, fall break had finally come to an end. This was marked by the droves of fairies entering Alfea's courtyard. Tecna, punctual as always, walked through the apartment doors first, unzipping her sweater and tossing it onto the loveseat.
"Musa!" She called out. "I'm home!"
The apartment showed signs of life, with a few cups and bowls lining the kitchen sink. But Musa, the only Winx member to remain on campus, was nowhere to be found.
"Musa?"
Tecna carried her briefcase to their bedroom, which was also unoccupied. A few shopping bags lay upon Musa's bed, alongside a large, purple moose toy planted at its center. Looking outside, she was relieved to see Musa on the balcony, leaning over the railing and waving her hands at the courtyard below.
Tecna opened the door. "There you are-"
The action startled Musa, who swiveled on her feet. Her eyes grew wide as Tecna slowly approached, staring at the courtyard of fairies with a worried frown.
"Are you okay?" Tecna muttered. "Who were you talking-"
"Nobody!"
Tecna blinked.
"Nobody. Um. I was just-" Musa rocked on her heels. "Talking to the breeze...I guess..."
Flora arrived second, entering the balcony wearing a tightly-wrapped leaflet scarf. The flowers and leaves that dotted her hair had changed to a golden brown, matching the fall trees that lined Alfea's perimeter.
"What are you doing out here?" Flora playfully nagged. "Come inside before you catch a cold!"
"I will, I promise! Just-" Musa looked between them. "-give me, like, two seconds, okay?"
Tecna let out a laugh.
"The breeze has more to say?"
"Yup." Musa crossed her arms, feeling her cheeks grow warm. "I think so."
"Alright." Tecna and Flora retreated towards the apartment. "Two seconds, it is!"
Alone again, Musa resumed staring at the empty spot in the courtyard. A few tentative seconds later, Riven's wind-rider uncloaked, startling the surrounding fairies. He playfully wiped his brow, as did Musa, waving a final goodbye as he zoomed off towards Red Fountain.
She re-entered the apartment, slumping onto her bed and cuddling the purple moose with a smile. The shopping bags were crushed beneath her body, something she didn't mind, while she quietly laughed to herself in secret.
A flash of light and tinkling chimes announced Stella's arrival.
"Musa!" Tecna called out again. "They're here!"
"Coming!" She yelled back, giving the moose a couple pats and walking towards the living room.
Stella, doubly tanned, greeted her roommates with a series of warm hugs. An oddly quiet Bloom stood behind her, placing grocery bags on the kitchenette table. Inside was a bag of jumbo-sized marshmallows.
"S'mores!" Musa chirped. "Hell yeah!"
A photo of Daphne was then planted onto the coffee table. Tecna was already surprised, matching Bloom's wide-eyed expression. Flora touched her chin, Stella crossed her arms, and Musa just stood, a bit confused at the picture's significance.
"So apparently, I drew this." Bloom said. "At seven years old. Almost a decade ago."
Tecna placed her hands at her hips.
"Well, that kinda complicates things." She muttered. "Doesn't it?"
"Yes."
Bloom's face glowed with excitement.
"Yes, it does."