title: but i will remain

summary: Do you think I shall be gone forever and entirely if you free me? I know that I will not be. My spirit is what has endured through all of these deaths, because the exterior things—they mean nothing. So of course I will remain. Perhaps I shall be a single spark in the Flame. I will live and then die and be living still again and again. / an alternate sirenix wish.

A/N: new A Thousand Winters chapter coming out sometime, I swear. I was on track for the beginning of school and then I got my heart broken and didn't eat for three days straight and let's just say I'm working around all of that. On the bright side, I have more free writing time than before. On the less bright side, I spend it all playing computer games, laying in bed sad, reading old text messages, and crying, which is stupid.

I wrote pretty much this whole thing in 2021 with very minor revisions until then, but for some reason I felt like I wasn't ready to post it. But reading it through now, I like how it turned out. Obvious season five AU because I don't really know how the Sirenix wish/Daphne's whole "curse not dead" deal turned out because I didn't watch it. In my world (and, i think the pre-season 5 writers' minds) Daphne is straight up dead.

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"Daphne?" Bloom spoke softly even though she knew they were alone. No one else came to the grotto under Roccaluce except her. No one else had any reason.

Light wavered and glowed on the walls of the shrine as it shone through the water. Daphne appeared before Bloom, shining and golden as she always was.

Here I am.

Bloom couldn't hide her smile. "Hi." She pressed her hand into the corner of the beautiful little blue box she had in her sweater pocket.

You look very pleased. Of course, you have a right to be. Daphne glided slightly closer, and Bloom sat down on the ground before her. The ground of the cavern was smooth and cool and slightly damp.

"Tritannus is gone," she agreed, and closed her eyes, letting out a sigh. "Maybe we'll have some peace for a moment."

You should be proud of yourself and your friends, sister. You've protected the Dimension from the darkness once again. There was a hint of levity in her ghostly sister's tone. But I am not sure you would know what to do with peace.

"Maybe not," Bloom agreed, and picked at her fingers. Suddenly she was nervous and she didn't know why. Yet she was full of anticipation and excitement too. "Um, Daphne."

Yes?

"When we defeated Tritannus, Sirenix—we each get a wish. Whatever we want, it will happen. And everyone is trying to think about their wishes. No one really wants to talk about it. I think I know what some of the girls might wish for, but not everyone. And I might be surprised." She needed to get to the point. "Anyway, I know what mine will be, and I came here to tell you."

Daphne inclined her head in interest, a bemused smile playing on her lips. Do tell.

The box she carried with her was so light, and yet it was holding an entire future inside of it. Her nerves almost failed her, all words flying out of her head for a moment, but she remembered in a heartbeat. "Daphne," Bloom said. "I am going to wish for you to come back to life. Not as a nymph. As a fairy."

It felt good just to speak the words.

Daphne smiled.

"The wishes can do nearly anything," she assured her. "So I know mine can do this. You can come back to Sparx with me—or you could even see Alfea. I mean, really see it, as a person, not just in my dreams and things." Bloom bit back the smile that came to her face. "I never thought I would find a way to do this."

You know, Bloom, I have a wish that you can grant me without even the power of Sirenix.

"I—What is it?" She looked up into Daphne's face, her softly glowing eyes. Recently she had seen a picture of Daphne before the fall of Sparx. She had been blonde and pretty, achingly young—younger than Bloom herself was now—and...disarmingly real.

She couldn't see a trace of the shyly-smiling girl she had seen in the photo within the shining being that was before her. The idea that she would see her again, maybe soon, made Bloom's hands tremble with excitement.

You have the power to unbind me from the Dragon's Flame, which is what keeps me the way I am now, she said.

"I—I do?" Bloom frowned. "I didn't think I could—bring you back to life. I don't know how I could do that." She had healed people before, but never...Daphne was not really a person, was she?

But she would be. Bloom would be able to touch her sister's hand. It would be so strange. It would be so wonderful.

It would not be bringing me back, Bloom, Daphne said. It would be setting me free.

It took a moment for her meaning to sink in. "Like..." Bloom bit her lip very hard. "Like...passing on?" She swallowed. This was the opposite of what she had thought was going to happen. "You would be gone. Forever."

Yes, I would be gone from this place, she said with a quiet nod.

She felt as though she'd just been slapped, stunned and stinging. Everything she had been so sure of was completely wrong. She had been so happy, so certain. "No. I—what are you talking about? I can bring you back, Daphne."

Is that what you want, Bloom?

"Is that not what you want?" How could Daphne not understand? "You lost everything. You never got to grow up or see our family or—or anything. And now you can. Now you can have it all back." Her fingers moved involuntarily, impatient to make the wish, cast the spell, fix what should have been fixed long ago. Fix it with magic—when so, so many times she had sat, useless, with theoretically limitless magic at her fingertips because half the time it caused more problems than it solved. But not this time.

I think that the past is already decided, and that all you and I and anyone can do is to move forward.

"But it's not," she ground out, blinking away hot tears that suddenly edged into the corner of her vision. "Just this once I can do anything. I can change the past. You could have a future."

Please do not be angry with me, Bloom.

"I didn't think—" she was surprised by the anger in her own tone and pushed it back. "I thought you'd be happy. I didn't think you'd just want to die all over again."

She didn't want to look at Daphne anymore, glowing and pale and inhuman. Bloom left the grotto instead.

It took Bloom a long time to fall asleep, and when she finally did, it was into a familiar vision.

"You haven't been in my dreams for a long time," she said. It felt like her voice echoed too-loud around them, even though the dreamlike haze where she and Daphne could meet while she slept didn't really have walls because it wasn't really a place.

I tried so hard to reach you then. There was fondness in her voice as though their last conversation hadn't almost been an argument. Bloom briefly wondered if that was what having a sister was like. But now you know everything. You know where I am. I haven't needed to try to come to you in your dreams, reaching down the length of your connection to the Dragon Fire to try and bring you here.

But I did not think you would come see me today.

Bloom bit her lip. "I shouldn't have gotten upset."

It's my fault. I shouldn't have been so cavalier about it when I knew it was a monumental decision. But you were upset.

"Yeah." Bloom's throat tightened thinking about the conversation, the implications. "Yeah."

When Daphne did not respond, she stumbled on the words. "I—don't want you to be gone," she whispered and felt ashamed to hear her voice crack on the last words, so childishly expressed. "I don't want you to be...you died when you were so young, Daphne, you didn't ever get a chance to live. And it's like you would be dying all over again." And it is all my fault. That was what it was, really, wasn't it? She was alive because Daphne wasn't. She had thought that if she brought Daphne back it would take her mind off of the fact that it was her fault she was dead.

"We never got to really be sisters," she added after a moment's hesitation. "I always wanted a sister when I was growing up, and I had one and never knew it. Didn't you feel like that, too? If you came back, we could...we could be a family again. Like we were meant to be. Nothing is complete like this."

It wouldn't be the same, Bloom. Those years are gone—lost forever. We cannot relive them in the way we think they should have gone. How do you know that this was not how it was always meant to be?

"Because it's awful," Bloom said softly. "Because you should have had a better life."

Not all of us were meant to be in the world for very long, Daphne said. And that's alright, because it isn't the only thing.

"I don't understand," Bloom said.

And suddenly the air and light around them was shifting, and color and form flooded the space which had been pale and blank. They were standing in a magnificent palace, one with soaring ceilings and walls gleaming with gold mosaics, a bright flame roaring on an altar. A golden, masked woman—Daphne? But no, this woman was dark haired—stood before the altar, and reached out her arms.

When I was a very young girl the Great Dragon chose me to be the next Nymph of Magix. Our mother was unhappy—she thought it too much responsibility along with ruling Sparx—but of course no one would disobey. So our parents gave me over to the Dragon's Temple, and that was where I spent most of my days from when I was six years old. Their parents stepped forward, and Bloom caught her breath. They looked very young. Holding a fistful of their mother's skirt was a tiny girl that she knew was Daphne, but as they approached the woman Daphne let go and came to the altar of her own accord. And the carefree, spoilt child that I was died that day, for I was prepared for the position I would one day take.

And when I was sixteen years old I was proclaimed the new Nymph. Once again the memory changed in a blur of color. Now Daphne looked as she had in the pictures Bloom had seen, young and pretty and nervous, and dressed as the Nymph of Magix, holding her mask in her hands. She was standing in a simple room with marble walls, just out of sight of the balcony doors through which sunlight was streaming. Bloom could see the crowd stretching out endlessly below the palace, and they were cheering. I still had my royal duties to attend to, but gone were the days of my cleaning the temple with the other girls. Now I led the ceremonies and the sacrifices. And I still had to prepare to be queen.

So I died that day, Daphne the girl in the Temple who did not have the cares I was given. Bloom watched the younger memory-Daphne close her eye for a moment before bringing her mask to her face, and she stepped out into the sunlit balcony. The crowds below cheered—and they were gone again.

And it was not long after that that you were born. The next moment Bloom found herself in was much dimmer, the world darkening around her so that it took her a moment to make out young, mortal Daphne, this time dressed in plain clothes and with her fair hair tied back, sitting by a window as the sun came up and holding a baby in her arms. Holding Bloom in her arms. The baby was sleeping, and Daphne smiled down at her. And it was the death of the Nymph who was single-mindedly devoted to the Dragon's Flame and Domino, because now I had a sister to protect just as strongly. My heart was pulled in two directions. I did not know what was right.

And I was the guardian of my sister and of the Flame, and I found myself needing to protect both—with my life. The scene changed again, and when Bloom blinked they were back in the temple which they had begun in—but it was so changed she barely recognized it. There was burnt out torches and debris littering the floor; parts of the structure had collapsed and there was marble and tile broken and scattered everywhere. There was a statue laying nearby, broken into pieces, unseeing eyes staring up at the ruins. And it was dark, illuminated only by the light flicking through the large windows—burning fire, all around.

Bloom pressed her lips together. And to think this was only the aftermath.

And I was glad to do it. I would never wish I had done otherwise. I only wish things had not turned out so badly, that you had to grow up exiled and faraway and alone, Bloom. So I died that day, yes, the death of the guardian of the Dragon's Flame, the death of the crown princess of Domino. But I was still here. I was with you.

And suddenly the burning ruins were fading away, and everything was fading away, and once again she was standing before Daphne, the two of them alone again. Bloom blinked.

And I have been the shade of a Nymph since, and I have been glad, because it meant I could be with you and help you when I could. More than anything, I wish I could have done more to help you, but my form was limited. But you never needed much help from me anyway, because everything you needed was already within you. And now I do not think you need me anymore at all—and I think you know that, too.

So in a way, yes, I will die if you free me. The shade of the Nymph that has already died will die again. But I have died many times, Bloom, and you have, too. The treasured princess of Sparx died the day she was pulled out of a house fire on Earth. That ordinary young girl died when she found magic for the first time. The fairy who did not know what she was died when she learned of her true origins. And I hope you will live and die a thousand more times. You will always be changing as you move forward, and be unable to recover that girl of the past. But that shouldn't make you sad. She lived as long as she needed to and then gave her life for who you are now.

Do you think I shall be gone forever and entirely if you free me? I know that I will not be. My spirit is what has endured through all of these deaths, because the exterior things—they mean nothing. So of course I will remain. Perhaps I shall be a single spark in the Dragon's Flame that makes up creation. I will live and then die and be living still again and again.

Again, and again, and again...those last words echoed softly in Bloom's mind, and she felt her lips tremble. Her first impulse was to argue. It was right there, the way to make everything better. The way to make right what had been wrong and tragic for so long. For so long Daphne had been trapped and martyred like this and Bloom had done nothing for her—she hadn't even really understood what had happened, what Daphne had done for her—but the older she got and the more of her life she lived the thought kept coming to her mind unbidden that this was everything her older sister would never get to have, and it was her fault.

But she could have it now. It could all be right in front of her. She could walk the earth again, be a fairy...fall in love. Get married. See their parents again. It would be so easy, and yet—

Even as the possibilities unfurled bright and tempting before her, even as Bloom felt her throat tighten with tears she would do her best not to shed, she looked into her sister's colorless blank eyes which still managed to be warm and she truly understood Daphne, perhaps for the first time in the years she had known her. And she knew that those possibilities were not the only thing Daphne would endure if she returned.

Bloom knew well enough that someday soon some new hardship would rise up. Without meaning to she had become resigned to it, to the idea that she and her friends would have to do what they could, as they had always done, to make things right in the Dimension—but it would happen. And sometimes it was terrible work. And not everyone had survived, even as a shade. If Daphne returned as a mortal, it would be to a universe where bad things still happened all the time. Where she would probably have to fight again, be called upon again to fulfill the responsibilities she had been born into through her royal position, her magic, her priestesshood.

And maybe she had fought enough.

I have upset you.

"No," she finally said. "You're right."

Daphne had been born into a role she had never asked for, taken on duties that she had never sought out, and she hadn't complained, and she'd never, ever failed them. She had given everything—everything. And Bloom wanted her to return to that place? Why? To give more? To one day, maybe give her life all over again?

Bloom swallowed her fear—that was what it was. Selfish fear. She would not let that win. "You're right, that I don't need you anymore. You—you gave up so much for me, and for the universe, for the Dragon Fire. You gave up everything. And now—if you want, now you can be...done." The last word caught in her throat, but she struggled through it. Daphne didn't deserve to have to feel sorry for her, not at all. "We can take it from here. The Dragon Fire will be okay. And I'll be okay. You don't have to worry anymore. You can go. You can rest." She took a deep breath to steady herself. "Just tell me when you want me to come and I will."

Daphne smiled.

A few weeks passed without Bloom hearing anything from Daphne. She had allowed herself to think that maybe she had begun to reconsider—but then one day could feel something calling her back to the grotto, and she knew.

"It's today, isn't it?" She asked into the glow, settling down on the ground as Daphne flared before her. "I never felt that before, so clearly. Not unless I was dreaming. You wanted me to come today."

I did.

Did you want to come?

Bloom looked at the shimmering light play across the back of her hand. She didn't want to lie. She didn't know if Daphne could sense the pit of dread and grief in her chest. It felt like someone was holding her heart in a tight fist—and pounding it relentlessly against her ribs. "I want you to be happy, Daphne." She looked up into Daphne's blank eyes, willing the grip on her heart to loosen. "I came here to do what you want me to."

Are you certain, Bloom? She could feel Daphne's worry pressing down on her. Always she had been worried for Bloom. Never for herself. Even now, she was prepared to give up what she wanted if she thought it would help.

"It isn't your duty to protect me or the Flame anymore. It's mine. And I can do it. You know I can." It was not enough just to let her go, Bloom realized. Daphne had been bound by duty for so long. Bloom knew she had to insist on it.

It was true, too. It hurt her soul, but it was true. She didn't need Daphne for guidance any longer, and had not for a long time. Despite knowing it, the thought of her not being around anymore was stark and lonely, like a coat she didn't know she was wearing until it was taken away. It was colder than it had ever been.

"I should have done this sooner," she continued, nodding. "I should have let you go long ago, when Sparx was restored. You've more than done everything you were supposed to for the Dragon Flame. And—" she had said she wasn't going to cry—she wasn't!—but now she couldn't stop the tears from springing to her eyes and she grimaced. She still spoke, though. She would not give up their final exchange just because she was crying. "And for me, too."

I know I was not much of a sister to you. I always grieved that. Daphne's form glowed slightly dimmer, and Bloom knew she was once again wavering between what she wanted and Bloom.

"I couldn't have asked for a better sister," Bloom said. And now she would be a good sister, too. She steadied her hands. "Are you ready?"

I am.

"I love you, Daphne," she said, her voice nearly a whisper. She wasn't sure if she had ever said it outright to her sister before. She wanted it to be the last thing she ever said to her.

I love you too, Bloom. I love you more than you know.

And Bloom summoned to herself the fire that burned entwined with her soul. Light flared around her, so bright she couldn't see a thing.

Bloom had been unsure of what she was doing, but almost immediately everything began to come together so that she felt as though the Flame itself was guiding her—the part of her that was the Fire, the part of the Fire that was her. She did not restrain it, as she did instinctively every day of her life; she did not direct it, as she did when she did magic. It flowed through her and simply was.

And everything was there. She could feel life brushing past her fingertips, rushing forward forever, just like a river's current, and for a moment she wondered if she would not know Daphne when she found her—and a second later she had reached Daphne and knew with unshakeable certainty that this was her, that she would know her anywhere, any way.

She felt Daphne's soul—it had a feel to it, even though it was nothing, and it flickered like a tongue of fire or a wavering candle, separate from the fire that was everything. Daphne was not tangled up in the Dragon Fire, but held down in it, like a flower caught in the current of the running river, waving to and fro below the water, unable to rise from its place by its own power. But how easy it was to thread her fingers around that flickering, warm flame that was Daphne and pull her free.

And then Bloom felt what was Daphne slip through her fingers with the warmth and softness of a kiss, and a shiver ran through her whole body as her eyes filled with tears.

Daphne looked at her through the blinding flames, and for a long moment she was not a shining being anymore. She was looking at Bloom with her own eyes, and she was smiling.

Then she was gone.

Her body was a thousand golden sparks which faded as quickly as they had come and then there was nothing. The fire that was everything faded away with her.

Bloom was alone.

She covered her face with her hands, shaking, her chest heaving, and then she realized she hadn't shed any tears and took a deep breath to get ahold of herself.

She pulled her knees to her chest and sat on the floor of the cave underneath the lake, watching the water gleam and refract upon the walls.

No, she wasn't alone. She never had been.

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I like to think of this as an ascended version, or maybe a character-development sequel of sorts to my long-ago one shot 'Saint Daphne', which I kind of cringe at a little bit at present lol (one reason being that apparently the magical fairy planet that worships a giant fire dragon has the same ideas about church triumphant canonization as the Roman Catholic Church)

Joke: Daphne isn't dead, she's just under some weird curse thing and Bloom can bring her back to life (boo, hiss, tomatoes)

Broke: Daphne is dead but she's just whatever about it

Woke: Daphne doesn't like being dead and resents Bloom a bit

Bespoke: Daphne long ago made peace with her life and despite the tragic fact that she died very young, she knows death is a part of life. she contributed a lot to the cause, and she helped a lot! and its okay to want to be done now.