AN: Hey, guys and Happy New Year! It's been a minute, but I'm back and better than ever with a new chapter. PLUS I got some great news! I have four more chapters written out so you know what that means? CONSISTANT UPDATES! *Confetti explodes*. Expect a freshly baked chapter every Sunday now, lovelies! I'm also going to be going back and polishing up the older chapters, so you can check the fixes if you like, although everything is the same with just some light revision.
Let me quickly respond to some reviews from you guys :D
lupispeke9: ¡Muchas gracias por tus amables palabras! Espero que disfruten este capítulo también.
Immaterium: Here's the update you've been waiting for, friend!
Moonlight Starlove: Thank you for the kind words! This chapter is actually the beginning of some semblance of genuine feeling from Valtor so "sparx" will be flying very soon!
Alrighty, enjoy!
Chapter Twelve: Sparx
Bloom hugged herself, shivering and curling up tight as snowflakes fell atop her closed lids and fluttering lashes.
Geez, she needed to talk to Valtor about leaving the balcony doors open before he went out.
However when she opened her eyes, there was no hotel room, no beds or furniture or fluttering curtains spurred by an open pair of doors.
It was a frozen town covered in ice pillars.
Bloom gasped, immediately alert as she stumbled to her feet and crashed against one of the pillars of ice with a cry, a product of her shoes slipping against the slick and frigid ground. She winced and jerked away from the cold surface before ducking under an arm—
An arm?
Frowning, Bloom followed the long appendage before finding its source and screaming in horror. It wasn't a pillar of ice at all; it was a man! Skin an unnatural pale blue and sheathed in snow crystals, eyes rolled backwards in his head, icicles dripping from lips parted in a silent scream—
Bloom covered her mouth with a shaking hand as pure horror electrocuted her system. As her terrified eyes darted around the wasteland, she saw the other "pillars" were just more frozen people. They were stuck mid-run, looking up in horror, clutching children, on their knees begging—
But all were screaming silently.
A horrified sob escaped Bloom's lips as she fell to her knees in disbelief. What was this? Where was she? What was going on? What happened here?!
Bloom felt herself hyperventilating, gasping for breath as hot tears slid down her cheeks only to immediately freeze and shatter to the cold street like glass. She wasn't sure why she felt such an aching, horrible loss for people she'd never met or seen before, why the pain felt ready to tear her inside out and leave her broken, but she supposed what appeared to be a freaking genocide placed before you was maybe enough to send anybody into a horrified frenzy.
And then there was a whisper that brushed against her ear, a song...no, a pretty voice, growing stronger and stronger in strength with each moment.
And then, she could hear it.
"Bloom…"
Bloom let out a wet gasp and snapped her head over her shoulder where she'd heard the sound come from, suddenly terrified that the iceman had come to life in some horrific zombie display. But he hadn't moved an inch, and the voice, distinctively feminine, sounded once more.
Her gaze was then pulled back to the front as a vivacious golden glow illuminated the gray tinted area.
No, not a glow. A translucent person—a breathtakingly beautiful woman outlined in gold and wearing a feathered mask with a long flowing dress. Her long blonde hair floated in the air like silk beneath waves and her amber eyes brightened when they landed on her tear streaked face.
An immediate sense of comfort blossomed in Bloom's chest, but she couldn't figure out why—she was pretty sure she'd never seen this woman in her life.
"Hello, Bloom," she said melodically as her ghostly form floated towards Bloom's kneeled one. "I've missed you."
"Missed me?" Bloom frowned as the semi corporeal hands cupped her cheeks. "Who are you?"
The woman smiled. "I am Daphne."
Daphne.
Bloom furrowed her brow further. The comfort and familiarity didn't go away, and yet the name Daphne didn't ring any bells.
She decided to press further. "And who are you…to me? I feel like I know you somehow but…"
Daphne's smile broadened into a sparkling grin. "Oh, Bloom—"
A searing pain shot through Bloom's heart and she screamed in pain, hugging herself tight and gritting her teeth against the pulsating agony.
"Bloom?" Daphne said in panic. "Bloom—!"
Bloom gasped and jerked up from her bed, comforters falling to her hips. She inhaled and exhaled rapidly, anxiously checking her surroundings before the pain returned and she slammed a palm against the mattress, letting out a pained groan.
She would've chalked it up to period cramps had the pain been lower, but instead it felt like hands were clawing through her ribcage and—
And it was gone with a sharp intake of breath.
What was that? That referring to both the sudden pain and that god awful and confusing dream.
On the bed beside her, Valtor was, surprisingly, still fast asleep with her makeshift nightlight/dream catcher hovering over him. She was glad she hadn't woken him up with what she assumed was her powers going on the fritz. She felt that was the case because there was something…not-normal-nightmare about the dream. And that surge of pain seemed to touch the same spot she felt her power explode from when she transformed or created a fire ball.
And what was up with that Daphne girl? Why was Bloom so sure she hadn't met her but…also so sure she had?
Bloom felt antsy as she slipped out of bed with wringing hands. She didn't want to practice her spell-work and risk upsetting her clearly not-in-a-good-mood magic so she did what she always did back on Earth to steady her nerves and let out her emotions.
Art.
Bloom quickly changed before taking out her supplies. She then spread them across the hotel desk so that it was set down in a neat row and flipped to an empty page on her sketch pad, picking up her charcoal pencil.
Unlike most dreams, the frozen dystopia she'd just saw and the pretty angel she met stayed vivid in her mind like a fresh tattoo. Bloom could easily sketch the woman's ethereal figure, her soft ovular face, her exotic mask. But much to her frustration, the form of the supposed Daphne was only familiar in the most recent of senses; No past memories came flooding back.
And seriously, why would they? Daphne certainly wasn't someone from Earth and it wasn't just because she glowed and floated. Something Bloom had noticed quickly was that the people she met in the Magic Dimension were always impossibly and inhumanly gorgeous—Valtor, Brandon, Princess Stella, the cleaning lady who she and Valtor would catch when they came in some time and even those three witches that had attacked them. Either Bloom kept inexplicably bumping into potential super models, or out-of-this-world hot genes were a dominate trait in this place.
Bloom was certain that by no stretch of the imagination was she a potential super model, and her parents were human, and, and, she had never left Earth until Valtor had whisked her away last Sunday (was it really only a week and two days now? Wow).
Bloom leaned back in the desk chair and bit the end of her pencil, staring down at the sketched rendition of the enigmatic dream woman smiling mysteriously up at her. The nostalgic ache didn't go away.
There was no way she could have known her though. No way. None.
Right?
Valtor had never had such a peaceful slumber in years.
His mothers hadn't bothered him, and even more surprisingly, he hadn't any nightmares of him dying in Omega either due to the cold biting into his bones and stealing the last of his waning strength, or the cursed dimension's snake guard injuring him and leaving him to bleed out. The dream would always, always end with him reaching desperately forwards, the portal just within reach.
Now, the dreams were certainly helpful in reminding him why he couldn't go back and needed to tread carefully but quickly as he regaining his powers, but they were certainly…let's just say agitating. By the third one he'd felt he had gotten the memo from his subconscious and didn't need them bothering him anymore, but seeing as how potions were for the pathetic and dreams couldn't fully be stopped anyhow, he would endure the torturous movies if it meant regaining his strength with rest.
But Bloom…Bloom, as a beginner had spat in the face of magic rules and made it all disappear.
He woke up staring at the ceiling in a somewhat dazed state, Bloom's orb bobbing slowly about his head like a lazy pixie. He forgot sometimes, he could admit, just how much raw power Bloom held in her grasp. The amount she could wield at her full potential…
As Valtor sat up, he smiled lightly to himself. He circled a finger around the orb's circumference and created a see-though ball around it, causing the warm fireball to drop lightly into his waiting palm. "I'll save you for later," he told it. He didn't need Bloom wasting magic making another—she would need as much as possible for what he had planned for today.
Sending the orb to limbo with a snap of his fingers, Valtor turned to the bed next to him and frowned in confusion when he saw it rumpled and empty. It was then that he finally noticed the sound of the repetitious scratching of a pencil.
Following the noise, he found Bloom hunched over the desk. She was still in her pyjamas and her hair was a mess (It always was, but Valtor could tell she hadn't made her daily half-hearted attempts to tame it yet). Her movements were jittery, she was murmuring under her breath, and he could sense her magic moving erratically beneath her flesh.
"Bloom?" Valtor prompted, and the girl jumped with a yelp before swiveling sharply in the chair.
"Oh Hey Val—whoa!" The momentum spurred by her turn caused the chair to complete a cycle once, twice, thrice before she finally planted her feet to the ground to stop it. "Hey," she repeated, cheeks a bright pink.
Valtor quirked an eyebrow as he strode towards her. "What are you working on here that has you so…?" his voice trailed off as he saw a partially coloured and all too familiar face smirking mockingly up at him. Instinctively, his lips curled into a hateful sneer and the room's temperature rose in time with the angry flare of his magic.
Daphne.
"Valtor?" It was Bloom's turn to query. He quickly slammed a lid on his powers and ironed out the expression on his face. No need to arouse suspicion…
"Do you…know her?" Bloom asked in concern and a mild bit of hope.
Correction; it was too late not to arouse suspicion. Cursing his lack of control, Valtor quickly ran through the best way to handle the situation, and after a slow nod to himself he turned to Bloom and responded with, "Do you?" He needed to know what she knew so he could avoid any proverbial pitfalls and snares.
Bloom bit her lip and furrowed her brow before turning back to her drawing. "I don't know," she said after a moment. "I-I feel like I do, and in my dream she acted like she knew me too. The thing is, I don't remember!" She shook her head in frustration and lay her cheek against a fist as she went back to colouring in Daphne's pale blonde hair. "It's so weird."
"Your dream?" Valtor asked.
"Except it didn't feel like a dream. I mean…I got it while I was asleep but something about it felt more real, you know?"
Before Valtor could question what the dream entailed, Bloom thankfully provided the answer after another moment. "I was in this cold place—no cold isn't enough to explain it. It was freezing and the people…" She paused in her colouring to frown in discomfort before shuddering and continuing on. "It was horrible. They were all freezing and screaming—" she shuddered again and Valtor's jaw clenched.
Blast that nymph. Blast her.
"So you know her, then? Daphne?"
Valtor leaned against the desk with a sigh. He wasn't naive enough to believe he'd never have to bring up the now ironically frozen wasteland that was Sparx, but he'd been hoping it would have been a bit later when he could create a feasible enough cover story.
Alas, he now simply had to tread carefully.
"I did," He answered truthfully, and Bloom sat up ramrod straight in her seat.
"You did?" She asked excitedly. "Who is she? Is she like…a Magic Dimension god that everybody sorta kinda subconsciously knows so that's how I know about her or…?"
"No," Valtor said, and his voice certainly came out more hostile than intended because Bloom's smile faded slightly and her body tensed. Unfortunately, that couldn't be helped; anything remotely similar to a compliment towards that troublesome brat Daphne was enough to raise his hackles.
"Let me guess, another 'friend,'" Bloom said with a snort in an attempt at levity.
Valtor thought over his next words carefully before answering, "She was a warrior of a realm named Sparx…or Domino depending on who you ask—a guardian fairy— and she failed to protect it. We weren't enemies no, but I can't say I forgive her for her failure." More half-truths—Daphne very much was his enemy, his least favourite next to Faragonda, but she also was a weak little failure and did fail to protect Sparx. The thought of that promptly smoothed out the last of the irritation he gathered from Bloom's unintended compliment of her character and importance.
Bloom's eyes widened. "Sparx? That— that's your home planet!" She then paused before her eyes filled with utmost sorrow as she turned away from him and hugged herself. "That…was your home planet."
"Yes," Valtor agreed because it truly had been, brief of a time it was. He remembered the perpetual heat, the summer festivals…and occasionally, Griffin. A loyal Griffin a…someone he'd…and they'd…
"Once." His voice had taken on a dull tone because it was either Bloom heard that or something considerably more pathetic. Still, he couldn't stop the note of…something. It was a note of some pathetic emotion he didn't want—
Goodness this girl. When was the last time he'd thought back on his greatest achievement with anything but elation and pride? Why was he being reminded of…
Damn it all.
"I'm sorry," Bloom said, and turning back to her from the place of memories his mind had been, he saw unshed tears in her wide blue eyes.
"Don't mourn them," Valtor said, once again speaking in a sharper tone than he intended to as his nails bit into the desk. The wood darkened and warped as tiny violet flames danced along its edge. "They were weak."
"What?" Bloom said. Her brows furrowed and she wiped her eyes before revealing a scowl. "How could you say that?"
"The truth?" Valtor scoffed.
Bloom pushed up from her seat and said, "All those people didn't deserve to die because they were weak, Valtor!"
Valtor laughed bitingly in response before leaning forward slightly to meet her passionate glare. "You're right, they weren't just weak. They were pathetic, and foolish, and they couldn't handle true power because they refused—!"
For the second day in a row, Valtor found a bruise blooming on his cheek as his head jerked sharply to the side. Though unlike the day prior where the slap was for restorative purposes, this one was an incredibly furious slap from and incredibly furious Bloom. It had managed to knock him out of spiraling thoughts about Sparx, thank goodness, so instead of becoming furious himself he felt his rage die down, the rest of the unwanted memories drifting away like dandelion fuzz in the breeze.
He turned back to Bloom, ready to make a quip about her being soft but unlike him, her rage hadn't been mollified. Sparks were leaping off her hair and body, her lips were pressed into a thin, bloodless line and her eyes, still tear lined, were absolutely molten.
Oh. He may have gone…a bit too far this time.
He sighed. "Bloom—"
She turned on her heel without another word and transformed after a single step. She then flung open the balcony doors and shot off into the morning sky with the light tinkle and buzz of furiously fluttering wings.
Valtor leaned against the desk again and sighed heavily, running a palm down his face.
Daphne. Damn that blasted—
Snarling, he turned to the unfinished drawing of Daphne and set it ablaze with a snap of his fingers.
"Stella?" Flora's muffled voice sounded from behind the locked door of Stella's room.
Stella let out a groan from under the covers and curled up tighter.
Another knock. "Hey, Stell?" Musa this time. "You okay? It's been a bit since we've seen you."
"Approximately 30 hours and 13.5 minutes to be exact," Tecna added. "A sun fairy like yourself shouldn't be cooping yourself indoors like that."
Stella poked her face out from beneath the heavy comforters and glared at the closed door. "I'm not a sun fairy anymore, Tec. I'm not even a fairy," She said, voice thick with post-sobbing mucus. "I can't go to any of my classes, can't use a simple perk-up spell, or fly or do anything—" her voice broke and she slunk back beneath the covers, biting her lips to stop another sob from coming on.
"Oh, Stella!" Flora cried sadly. Stella wouldn't be surprised if the gentle flower fairy was holding back tears too.
"Out of a scale from 1 to 10, how angry will you be if I blast this door open and hug you?" Musa asked, and Stella knew she was dead serious.
Stella sat bolt straight and glared at the door again to spit, "Twenty!"
"I can handle that," she chirped. There was a warning, "Musa—!" from Tecna before the sound of a guitar solo grew in volume before exploding in a passionate riff that threw open Stella's bedroom door with violet glitter shooting out in its wake.
Stella yelped and wrapped herself with her blanket so only her messy head was visible. "Musa!" she exclaimed. "I'm not—!"
Musa bound forwards and hugged Stella tightly, and after a pause, the despondent princess hugged her back.
"Hey," Musa said, smoothing her hair. "It's gonna be alright, okay? We'll get your powers back, and kick that wizard guy's butt!"
"Yes!" Flora agreed as she and Tecna also entered the room. She sat on Stella's unoccupied right and hugged her tightly as well while Tecna shuffled awkwardly nearby with a little smile. "Everything will be okay, sweetie. We're all here for you."
Stella felt as if she was going to sob again, this time in sheer joy. Oh, Dragon what did she do to deserve such amazing friends like these?
"Does—" Stella paused to wipe a stray tear away. "Does the whole school know?"
"Ms. G had an assembly about it this morning," Musa said as she pulled back out of the hug.
"It's all anyone can talk about," Flora said with a frown. "The professors are all having a hard time getting the students to calm down."
"It's lunch now and we've yet to learn a thing," Tecna added with a sigh. She then jolted and said, "Oh! Not that that's any of your fault, Stella. I'm not blaming—"
"It's okay, Tecna, I get what you mean," Stella said with an amused smile.
All four girls's gazes snapped forwards when a knock on the dorm room proper could be heard. "Princess Stella? Are you decent?" not waiting for Stella to respond, Grizelda added, "If not you best be quick; Ms. Faragonda wants you in her office. Make haste."
"Perhaps this is a good thing," Tecna said with wide eyes. "Do you think Mistress Faragonda has found the wizard?"
Meeting the look of similar hope on each of her friend's faces, Stella figured it wouldn't hurt to hope a little too.
She washed her face and slipped on her clothes before braving the school halls with the rest of the girls. And oh gosh the whispering.
Gasps and murmurs followed Stella as she strode through the hallway with the best princess walk she could currently manage. Musa glared at anyone who stopped and stared for too long and Flora said soothing words that combated the sea of gossip floating around. It was a huge relief when they'd finally made it to the Headmistresses office. The doors swung open and closed behind the four girls, insulating them in a bubble of comfort, completely free from the noise of—
"Daddy?" Stella blurted out as she took in the man standing by the desk.
"Hello to you, too, Ms. Stella," Grizelda crabbed. Stella flushed and stammered out an apology before tuning back to her father surrounded by several guards.
"Dad, what are you doing here?"
King Radius looked tired. He had dark circles and his shoulders were slumped to the tiniest of degrees. His blonde hair and beard were mussed as if he'd just slunk out of bed and his eyes, the same amber as Stella's, were missing some of its shine. Still, he was able to smile wanly at his daughter before spreading his arms in an initiation of an embrace.
Stella suddenly felt like a little girl again, and with a choked gasp she dashed forward and accepted the warm hug with as minimal tears as she could muster.
"I'm sorry," Stella blubbered against his chest. "I'm sorry I lost—"
"Hush now. It's alright." He pulled away finally and shared a wary glance with Faragonda. "It would seem things are…troublesome at the moment. I don't fault you for losing your powers to the likes of a man like that."
"Who is he, Headmistress?" Tecna asked with a frown. "What does he want?"
"I cannot answer your first query, Tecna. However for the latter, I fear it is power he is after…If left unchecked I fear…"
"We've thankfully managed to pin down his magical signature this morning," Grizelda said. "With any luck, we'll have him by day's end."
"This is why I am here," King Radius said. "To ensure you are not left unprotected." He snapped his fingers and a guard stepped forwards with an ornate, indigo box decorated in stars and crescent moons.
Stella looked at it curiously before tuning to her father in questioning. He nodded in encouragement, and with a deep breath, she flicked open the latch and opened the lid.
A gasp tore from her lips at both the magic immediately rising out and the sight of the beautiful scepter lying within. It was silver at the handle, while a gold crescent moon sat at the top. A pretty opalescent crystal sat in the centre. "Isn't this—?"
"It's your mother's, yes. We spoke, and decided that with your sun magic currently inaccessible to you, tapping into your moon powers would be prudent."
Stella bit her lip. "I haven't practiced moon magic in years. I…I'll probably super rusty and fail all my classes and—"
"Classes aren't important at the moment, Stella," King Radius said firmly. "Not in comparison to your life."
"We will also take your mild handicap into account when it comes to grades," Faragonda assured her with a smile.
"Woo! Go, Stell! An upgrade!" Musa cheered. Stella tossed a fond grin over her shoulder before taking up the scepter with two hands and feeling the magic rush through her veins. It wasn't the same, not by a long shot, to her usual scepter but the hole in her chest had closed up a little.
Stella twirled the scepter between her fingers and smiled. It would take a bit, but she could see herself getting used to this.
And as a plus, it matched nicely with her outfits.
In all seriousness, Bloom wasn't really sure why Valtor's callousness had made her so angry this time around. It wasn't like he was all sunshine and rainbows most days, or didn't say and do morally questionable things 24/7, but for some reason…
No, there wasn't a weird reason. Genocide just so happened to be a stupid thing to justify.
Bloom flew through the city, a bit above the pedestrians and cars moving beneath her, arms crossed and a frown stuck on her face. Everything was so weird, and all thanks to that nebulous dream and that even more confusing girl. Daphne. Who was she? Why was she contacting her? Why had Sparx been frozen over (Valtor's opinion non withstanding)? She wished—
"Hey! Bloom!"
Bloom shook her head and looked down, broken from her thoughts by the sound of a hover bike and its waving rider. He parked where she was hovering by the side of the street and took his helmet off.
Bloom's face immediately brightened as she floated down towards him. Seeing his open and sunny face as opposed to Valtor's dark and sardonic one was already working to melt away a good deal of her bad mood. "Brandon, hey!"
"Hey!" Brandon repeated with a grin as he shook out his hair. "Going for a fly?"
"Yeah, I needed…" Bloom's voice trailed off as she hugged herself tighter with a sigh. "I needed to clear my head, you know?"
Brandon, finally clocking into her mood, frowned too. "You okay?"
Bloom scratched awkwardly at her elbow as she landed on the sidewalk and let her fairy form melt away. "No," she admitted with a sigh. "Not really. Me and Baltor—"
"Your mentor?"
"Yeah. We had a little argument about…politics, I guess? I dunno, what do you call arguing about genocide? Pure insanity?" Bloom's voice had gained back an edge of anger as she crossed her arms and scoffed.
Brandon's eyes widened. "Genocide? What the heck were—" he paused, then sat up straighter. "You guys were talking about The Snuff."
Bloom frowned and tilted her head to the side. "'The Snuff?'"
"The destruction of the kingdom, Sparx. Some of us call it 'The Snuff' because it was the most prominent fire kingdom in the Magic Dimension and it—ironically—got frozen over and 'snuffed out.'"
"Oh," Bloom said. "Yeah, that's what we were talking about. How'd you know? Is there only one genocide in the entire Magic world?"
"Not by a long shot. The Ancestral Witches did a number on a bunch of places, but Sparx was a big deal because of how important it is in our world."
Ancestral Witches? Sparx being… "important"? Frowning in thought, Bloom asked, "Hey, do you think we can talk more about this? Tell me the basics, maybe?"
Brandon smiled. "I forget you're an Earthling sometime. Yeah, I have time; hop on, there's a good exhibit you we can check out at the museum."
Bloom was immediately awestruck by the Magix museum. She was, to be fair, awestruck by all museums period, but a magic museum with magic inside of it? Oh, be still her artistic heart, she was going to explode!
She saw paintings of dancing women—who were actually dancing in real-time like something straight from Harry Potter—moving statues giving balloons to children, fairies creating paintings with flicks of their hands while audiences watched…
"Wow," Bloom breathed in wonder, and Brandon chuckled beside her.
"Do you wanna explore before going to the exhibit?"
Bloom shook her head hard to get the stars out of them before turning to Brandon with an apologetic smile. "I….okay, yeah. If anymore negative stuff gets into my brain now I'll probably blow something up—better to cool of with some awesome magic, yeah?"
"Yeah," Brandon said with a sideways smile. The two made their way down a hallway showing a long painting of a kingdom rising and falling over and over again like a movie on replay.
"Although," Bloom said, tearing her eyes away from the sight. "Anything you wanna warn me about on our way there? So I don't lose my nonexistent lunch, or something?"
"Don't worry, there's nothing too scary at the exhibit; no frozen statue reenactments or anything."
Bloom nodded in understanding. She didn't think anything could be scarier than her nightmare anyway. "Could you tell me why Sparx was so important?"
"Well it was Sparx. It's the home of the Great Dragon—"
"Great Dragon?"
"The creator of the magical dimension," Brandon explained. "The legends say he made his home in Sparx after he'd finished his job, blessing the royal family with his might." He frowned and shook his head with sigh, glumly sticking and un-sticking a fry form his ketchup cup. "To think even that wasn't able to protect the planet and its inhabitants."
Bloom's brow furrowed. "Why?" she asked quietly. "Why did it happen?"
Brandon's face darkened and he shuddered slightly. "You ever heard of the Ancestral Witches?"
Bloom shook her head, but the title sent a chill down her spine. "Just what you briefly mentioned already."
"They were three powerful sisters who wanted to have the Magic Dimension for themselves—or at least all the magic in it."
Bloom frowned darkly. "So…power."
Brandon nodded solemnly.
Bloom sighed and rubbed at her arm. "…I don't know why I feel so affected by this. I'm not even from here yet…"
"Hey, empathy is a universal trait," Brandon said with a smile. He lay a comforting hand on Bloom's shoulder. "It's nice that you feel so terribly about people who aren't your own."
Bloom pinched her brow and gave him a wane smile. "Thanks…but it feels more than…" she shook her head. "You're right. I'm probably just not psychopath."
The two briefly went back to looking around when Brandon cleared his throat and got Bloom's attention again. "So," he said.
Bloom nodded. "So."
Silence.
"Um…" Brandon hesitated before clearing his throat again and turning to the nearest sculpture—it looked like a siren with wings. "You uh…you like this statue? It's cool."
Bloom gave him a sideways smile before she snorted. Smooth. Very smooth. "Yeah," she said, deciding to throw him bone. "It's neat, what's it supposed to be?"
He was, Valtor had decided, doing this for his own sake. He'd had plans today to borrow some things from the museum forever and it wouldn't work as smoothly without Bloom's powers as fuel. Additionally, the last thing they needed was more attention on the two of them what with Faragonda more than likely knowing about him now, and this was something that would absolutely happen if Bloom attracted trouble like she always seemed to.
Obviously.
Why else would he be looking for her?
If his magic was to believed, she was moving rather slow—strolling languidly? Taking a lazy fly? Either way she at least didn't seem to be—
The world pulsed black around him and he halted, clutching his head with a grunt. His body tensed as a voice clawed at his ears: "Valtor!"
Blast.
Valtor picked up speed, feeling the invisible claws of his mothers desperately reaching for his mind. However, their talons were nearly completely forgotten when he felt a powerful surge of magic from his peripheral. He and his mothers gasped in unison as they retreated swiftly and he froze in his flight, burying his power deep.
Faragonda? Faragonda with her magic unfolded?
Valtor felt unwanted wave of panic at the realization, and quickly made his way to the nearest building roof. He landed and scanned the city down below with a deep furrow between his brows.
Why was she here? With mer magic bared no less? And more importantly, where was she? She was near, clearly, but was she near Valtor? Had she sensed him the way she was sensing her now? Dammit, he wasn't prepared—!
Wait. No. Not Faragonda. The signature felt…different somehow, heavier, less powerful.
But still dangerous.
Gritting his teeth, Valtor charged across the rooftops, deigning some roof jumping would keep his magic hidden better than flying at the moment. He needed to find Bloom quickly—if Faragonda was indeed on his trail, then it wasn't hard to believe she'd sent a bounty hunter or powerful fairy after him. Bloom's magic, then, would be paramount to, if not victory then survival. If he knew where oh where that obnoxious girl had gone to—
An explosion sparked deep within his soul and Valtor skidded to a stop as his gaze was torn towards the distance where Bloom's magic was suddenly flaring up like a cornered wold. Below, pedestrians look up to and about themselves, murmuring at the energy as Valtor smiled grimly.
Causing him trouble per usual, it would seem.
Bloom ran her hands against the painting. The End of a Giant it was titled, and it showcased a once beautiful landscape caked over with icicles and frost, sitting atop a curled up dragon with its eyes closed. Above the horrible picture was a dark cloud and a pair of red angry eyes glaring from the sky. Bloom shuddered and hugged herself. "God, this is…"
"Yeah," Brandon said. "My Dad was my age when it happened he…he says it was the worst day of anybody's life."
And Valtor had called those people weak and deserving of their fates. Bloom clenched her jaw as she moved to the next painting: four frozen thrones of varying heights. One ugly, gnarled witch sat grinning on each, and the last was using the smallest throne as a footrest as she lounged back, spinning a crown around on a knobby finger. Bloom clenched her jaw and quickly turned from that to the next item in the exhibit.
"Daphne," Bloom breathed, staring wide eyed at the marble statue. It was definitely her, even in a pure white palette—the flowing blonde hair, the feathered mask, the long dress and the bangles.
"You know her," Brandon said in surprise.
"Yeah," Bloom said vaguely with a nod. Before frowning and shaking her head. "I mean, no. Not really." She turned to him with a sheepish smile. "This is going to sound weird, but I actually had a dream about her."
"Princess Daphne?" Brandon said, eyebrows raising his to hairline. "And you haven't seen her before?"
"Nope," then paused at the title he'd used. "Wait a minute, princess?"
"Yeah, Daphne was the last—"
A familiar pain sliced through Bloom's body, muffling his words as she clutched at her chest with a grunt. God, what was going on with her magic today?
"Bloom?" Brandon asked in panic. He rushed forwards and caught her in his arms before she could hit the ground. "Bloom? What's the matter? Hey, are—ah!" As Bloom's skin burned beneath her flesh, Brandon was forced to let go. Bloom staggered away from him as she watched light seep out of her body.
Her head ached and so did her knees as she crashed to them heavily. An orange dome sprung out of the ground, surrounding them both as the people nearby became glaze eyed and zombie limbed, walking sluggishly towards the exit. "What the heck?!" Brandon cried, head darting around side to side in fear. Bloom couldn't agree more. What was going on and why did her skin feel like it wanted to tear off her bones? Why couldn't her muscles stop shaking and—
"What?" A voice said just as Bloom had regained her breath and her temperature had returned to normal. "But…you…" Bloom looked up to see a plain looking middle-aged woman standing a few feet away from her. Her brown hair was cut in a simple bob, she wore long dark clothes, and was looking down at Bloom in glasses covered wide-eyed confusion.
The woman blinked twice and frowned as she glanced between Bloom and Brandon. "I don't understand."
"Understand…" Bloom grunted as she tried pushing herself to her feet. Brandon helped by hoisting her up by the elbow and she gave him a brief smile of thanks. She then turned back to the strange woman. "Understand what?"
"I…" the woman gave another dazed blink before shaking her head. "Forgive me, both of you. I was…I was looking for someone and the spell I used to track their magical signature sent me here…"
Bloom's blood went cold. The woman had been searching for a magical signature?
"Hey, wait a minute," Brandon was saying. "Aren't you…" Bloom wasn't listening to him anymore, her mind had gone back to Valtor's ominous warning from the first night they'd met.
"Bloom, do you recall when I told you that you possessed the Dragon Flame…? it is a highly sought after treasure; power hungry witches, wizards, dark lords, and even some heroes and fairies would clamour to tear anyone to shreds to get their hands on it, and it is that greed that brought these men here tonight."
"Bloom?" Brandon turned to her worriedly as she backed away shaking. "Are you—?"
"God!" Bloom yelled suddenly. Her magic surged and her wings sprung out of her shoulder blades. "Why can't you people just leave us alone!" Two flaming orbs exploded into her palms as Brandon jumped back with a yelp.
"Bloom!" he cried. "What are you—?!"
Bloom ignored him, pushing off the floor and zooming across the ground, pulling her arm back and shoving her spell forward with a war cry.
The old woman gasped in shock before spreading her arms wide. The barrier shrunk rapidly to surrounded her alone, and Bloom watched as her spell hit it. Knowing from experience what happened next, she quickly zipped out of the blasts range and tossed her next spell before the woman could cast another.
The woman snapped her head to the side, narrowing her eyes at the oncoming spell. Bloom's jaw dropped as a stream of glitter shot from her forehead and exploded the fireball in midair.
"Bloom!" Brandon yelled, running towards her. "Bloom, stop!"
"Stay back, Brandon!" Bloom said, holding a hand towards him to halt. "She's a magic snatcher!"
"A what?" The woman demanded, aghast. "Young lady I am no so such thing!"
"Oh yeah?" Bloom said through gritted teeth. "Then why were you looking for me, huh?"
"It wasn't you I was after, child!" The woman cried. "I was looking for somebody else. I don't know why my spell failed—"
Bloom snarled, and the temperature of the room grew with her anger. It didn't matter that she was mad at him right now, she wasn't letting him get hurt, not even by harmless sounding ladies (who clearly wasn't harmless because she exploded Bloom's spell with her mind! What the hell).
With a roar, Bloom swung her arm to the side. Several orbs of fire materialized around her in a circle before she shoved both hands forward, directed the flames ahead. Instead, the orbs of fire broke out of the circle and began crashing against the walls, the ground, the ceiling—
Brandon cried out in pain as he was flung against a nearby wall and slumped to the ground. Bloom gasped in horror as she turned towards him. "Brandon—" a spell hit her in the side and sent her crashing to the ground with a cry of pain. Her body seized, and she was reminded, much to her horror, of those goggled gun guys from three days prior.
Except this time she didn't—
The floor glowed gold and a hand tore through to grab her arm. She cried out with a shriek as she was tugged through and fell atop something hard. She grunted, squirming against the other arm pinning her to what she now knew was a chest until she heard a familiar voice urgently say, "It's me."
Bloom stopped struggling before looking up at Valtor, disguise on and frown on his face. But he wasn't looking at her.
Looking down, Bloom could see the burning museum below. Then, she remembered something with a gasp. "Brandon! I hit him—"
"He'll be fine," Valtor said dismissively as he began flying her in the opposite direction.
"Wait no! You don't know that! Plus he was there with that wacko power snatcher lady—!"
"I told you, specialists don't have magic, she won't bother him."
"But I still hit him!"
"Did you intend to kill him?"
"No!"
"Then he'll be fine." He frowned in seeming thought before adding, "Probably."
Probably?! Oh God she was going to throw up—
"Enough, Bloom." The sharpness in his voice made Bloom freeze abruptly and look up once more. The cold in her chest intensified when she saw the steely glare he was leveling her with. "We are not going back."
Bloom overcame her shock so she could glare right back. "Why are you like this? You know what, I know you don't care about anyone but yourself—" He grunted irritably, but she continued. "But I do, and I want to—"
"Fine." Valtor let her go abruptly and she briefly fell with a shriek before managing to get back control of her wings. "Go back. But you'll be on your own." He then turned his back to her and continued to fly off into the distance.
Bloom glared at him before flying back towards the museum, pumping her wings as fast as she could. As she neared, she could see the former museum patrons standing outside murmuring, as well as camera crews and several news anchors nearby. Fairies with large wings were showering the building with pretty glitter, and she was half tempted to watch in wonder, but her concern for Brandon won out. Bloom lowered herself closer to the crowd, searching anxiously. Then, with a breath of relief, Bloom found her friend on a stretcher being healed by another fairy.
"Brandon!" Bloom cried as she landed at his side.
Brandon looked up at her with equal relief, the fairy looking at her curiously. "Bloom, you're alright! You just disappeared and—Dragon, what was that back there?"
"I—" Bloom looked up, noticing the magic snatching woman speaking with someone else. She tensed and squeezed Brandon's hand. There was a lot of people here now, so maybe she wouldn't—but no, Bloom didn't want her face to be memorized, she'd already messed up bad. "I have to go. Thank you for today, alright? Call me when you get back."
"Bloom—" She shot into the air before he could get a word in.
He didn't know they'd made an exhibit.
Valtor supposed it was…silly to not believe they'd have foregone an art collection made to choke on Sparx's frozen genitals now that he thought about it, but it was surreal, walking through it. Frustrating that he wasn't featured in anything. Thought provoking, in a way as well. Or it probably would have been had he not been forced to save Bloom again.
Which was…odd. What was there to think about? Why did he feel the need to?
Truly, truly, blast that nymph to the deepest pits of hell. He needed to figure out how to keep her stubborn spirit away from Bloom, if not send her there himself. He didn't want to talk about that silly planet ever again—how could one argument taint the memory of such a glorious victory?
No, not an argument. Not the biting words. Not the slap. It was Bloom's eyes, usually bright with wonder and admiration and impish amusement, molten with…disgust. Or at least, something near it.
Valtor stared at his reflection in the heavily sugared mug of hot chocolate in his hands. He didn't like that look in her eyes, not leveled at him, at least. Griffin had looked at him like that, hadn't she?
Before she abandoned him, that was.
His head snapped up, and he turned his head towards the balcony windows where a familiar signature could be felt. Valtor didn't exactly know why tension seeped out of his shoulders when he felt Bloom's magic and heard the balcony door open. "Back in one piece?" He called sardonically over his shoulder to make up for the bewildering behavior.
Bloom glared back as her transformation melted away. "Fuck. You."
Still angry it seemed.
Valtor sighed as he took a long sip of his drink, drumming his fingers against the kitchenette counter. It wasn't fun needling Bloom when she was genuinely angry with him, he'd figured out from today. It would seem, as begrudging as he was, he needed to hand over some semblance of an olive branch.
"Bloom," Valtor said with a sigh. "I…" he hesitated. "I misspoke," he settled on. "What I said about Sparx was insensitive." She didn't answer, and a glance over his shoulder revealed that she was on her bed and facing stubbornly away from him. "I know it may seem that I'm callous and…monstrous but that is only because the world is so." He turned to face her fully as he walked towards her fetal form. "You saw today, didn't you? The power hungry witches who destroyed Sparx, the woman who wanted your magic…this world doesn't appreciate light like yours, Bloom." He sat at the edge of the bed as she gave her a serious look. "It will snuff it out. Sparx was proof of that. If you don't have strength and grit and cold hard drive, you will be eliminated." He then added, in an attempt to drive the point home, "It was learning this that saved me from Sparx's destruction, and it is that drive that is keeping the both of us safe now."
Bloom's shoulders relaxed and her eyes were flickering with clear heavy thought. She turned half-way to look up at him with a sadly furrowed brow. "I'm sorry that happened to you, losing your home. But…those sisters were just three witches. The whole world isn't all like that. I know it isn't."
"Too much of it is."
She sighed again and looked away once more, though the tension didn't return to her body. Valtor mulled over his next words before adding, "Though that doesn't mean I don't care about things."
Bloom snorted and rolled onto her back to look at him properly, and Valtor found himself feeling…something that felt like relief. "Yeah, I know. Like power, and dramatics, and your appearance—"
"You," Valtor interjected.
Bloom stopped talking and opened and closed her mouth several times. Then she snorted and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, okay Mr. You're on your own."
Valtor frowned. "I didn't think she would attack you again with so much people."
"Then why didn't you go back?" Bloom asked.
"I—" Valtor shook his head and sighed heavily. "Bloom, that woman works closely with a powerful enemy of mine and has a great deal of power herself. She may very well see through my disguise if I get too close. I do not want—gah. Beyond that, does this once incident truly negate all the other times I've been there to save you? Today including?"
Bloom spared him a glance before looking away again.
Valtor tried his final trump card. "We're An-lin and Obi…" he frowned and twisted his wrist in thought. "Obi…Obi…I want to say ren but—"
Bloom burst into laughter and Valtor smiled in response. She turned to look at him again before saying, "That was so, so wrong."
"I assume you have a plan to rectify this spot in my knowledge?"
She smiled weakly. "Yeah. I do, actually." Then she said, "Speaking of pop-culture, I managed to get that Sailor Mars spell to work today."
Valtor raised his eyebrows in disbelief.
"Well sort of. It kinda went haywire and that's why I hit Brandon, but I got the shape down and…!"
Valtor listened to her speak about the feeling and how she hadn't even really realized what she'd done until just now, and how cool it was and all the spells she wanted to re-create next. It was nice, getting his mind away from his mothers and Sparx and Daphne.
That was the reason. That was the reason he enjoyed listening to her excited babble.
AN: What's this Val? Are you starting to finally admit you're warming up to your protege? Nah. ...right?
Anyways, hope you all enjoyed! Love ya, and see you next Sunday!
Fantasy Fan OUT!