A/n: Rainbow finally released a four-minute preview of season 8 and all I can say is...we waited four years for THIS? Rainbow, what have you done?
Given how season 7 turned out I didn't think it was possible but Rainbow has officially produced their worst season yet and possibly ruined Winx Club for good. The whole video was severely cringey and nearly every aspect about it disappointed me. For starters, what the heck's up with the animation? The Winx look like Moxie Girlz and all their faces are the same. Even though they're in their mid-twenties at this point, they look like 14-year-old girls instead. It's terrible. I loved the show's original design because despite Winx Club being a "girl cartoon", the animation style was more mature. Cute, but mature. It gave the show a serious, natural feel. I'm only referring to the classic three seasons; season 4's style was kind of weird to me, and Nickelodeon's...While Nick did do a good job of animating—overall, the quality was clearer and the movements were more fluid—their character layouts were "meh" to me. They increased the size of the girls' eyes, added more glitter and sparkles, and made the cartoon look a little too girlie (in their version, even the Specialists have feminine-looking poses). Plus, they drew angular faces kind of weird (in some instances, Helia and Riven looked like they needed plastic surgery) and facial expressions were less natural and nearly nonexistent. I don't care for it much even though it was Nick that introduced me to Winx Club in the first place. But still, I would've gladly taken their work over this any day. Now, Winx Club looks like a cliché Western girl-orientated cartoon; everyone is short with big heads and eyes. I know the girls' classic designs earned Rainbow a lot of backlash, but all they literally had to do was just widen their waists.And don't get me started about the Specialists.
They look like girls with those huge, unproportional eyes (Nex's face is just…no). And why are they suddenly scrawny like 12-year-olds? Undefined muscles are too sexual to show tweens now? Or is the intended audience 7-year-olds now? Seriously, the Specialists have lost all body mass; how the heck do they go a military school (which they should've graduated from, by the way) and NOT have muscles?Even their weapons are jokes. And when is Sky going to take the throne? At age 32? It's not like he's a prince with responsibilities or anything (the same can be said for Stella). A this point, he's only a "prince" whenever they want to shine unnecessary light on Bloom. And the voices! Everyone sounds so cringey and they don't sound like teen—I'm sorry, young adults—at this point! The voice actors they got sound like they should be voicing characters on Nick Jr. instead.
And let's talk about Valtor. Honestly, I feel like they only made him the main villain because they screwed up major with season 7 and desperately needed a wait to bait their fans back in. I think his character will ultimately be watered down and pale comparison to his season 3 counterpart. (But at least he still has his flawless eyeshadow). And let's not ignore season 8's white-washing. Now, Flora looks mixed, almost white, when originally she was straight-up brown. Not tan, not hazel, brown. They do this to her in literally every installment!
In a nutshell, Rainbow f*cked up and their decision is ultimately going to come back and bite them in the ass. They've single-handedly managed to piss off most of their fanbase and I have no idea how they're going to bounce back from this—if that's even possible. It's sad; practically all modern-day cartoons for children are extremely juvenile. I was just hoping Winx Club wouldn't suffer the same fate. I was wrong. R.I.P. diversity. R.I.P phantoblades. R.I.P. Valtor's badassery. R.I.P. Tecna's screentime. R.I.P. Helia's hair. By the way, Timmy: that yellow jumpsuit looks horrible. And why does he have a freakin' bow and arrow? Wasn't he the team's sniper? And why the hell does Griselda look like a MILF now?
Rant over. This is the final chapter of part 1. This story's gonna be split into two parts because the first half was extremely cringey and I want to separate it from my current work. The first half was (immature) me just writing random things for the sake of writing but now that I actually have a plan and know which direction I'm taking the story, I want my newer work to be distinctive from what I wrote back in 2016-17.
Well, here's chapter 33. It may be a while before chapter 34 is released, so don't take my break as a hiatus. I've almost been working on this arc for about a year now (thanks to a much-needed pause) so I've barely written anything past this. But thankfully, with the publishing of this chapter I've finally been liberated from my struggle and am ready to have some fun with this story. I'm working on many different things and I'm so excited to unveil them. Hope you'll stick around to see them. Thanks so much! Onward, reader~
(P.S. I know first-to-third-person switches aren't conventional, but IDGAD. These past few months of hiatus have made me realize: I don't just wanna write about Acadia. I want to explore this universe through the eyes of others, mainly the characters who got neglected in the cartoon).
XXXX
/No one's POV/
The woodland pixies were in great distress.
As some of the many Guardians of the Magic Dimension's diverse wildlife and the once-servants of Diana (before she'd gotten banished to Earth) , the First Fairy of Flora and Fauna, they'd been tasked with the protection of one of the worlds' oldest forests—one that was currently in the process of burning to the ground.
All around them, the Frelorns, the legendary oaks that had stood unscathed for millennia, were dying. Unfettered flames leapt from branch to branch like tree crickets, stripping the Frelorns of their verdant beauty and reducing them to nothing more than charred sticks, their gaunt remains rooted to now-barren soil. Having a connection to the trees, theirs deaths had drastically weakened the pixies' power to the point they could barely call upon their magic and retaliate. They'd handled countless forest fires in the past but this...This was unlike anything they'd ever seen.
This fire was insatiable; not even the Water Pixies' combined magic had been enough to put it out. The fire, which had rained down from the charcoaled heavens like meteors, had spread throughout their home in a matter of seconds, causing widespread panic. One minute all had been sound and serene as it usually was and then the next most of the wildlife had found themselves fleeing, their nighttime behaviors disrupted by the unmistakable smell and cackle of fire. Naturally, the pixies, who'd immediately felt the forest's turmoil in their bones, responded with the swiftness of a Romulean griffin and an intent to terminate the threat before things got out of hand. Being almost as old as Linphea with enough experience to prove so, quenching the flames should've been a simple task—or so they thought. Noting how abnormal the sudden forest fire seemed from the start, the Water Pixies wisely rallied their magic into a Convergence but much to everyone's horror, their dousing the trees hadn't been enough. It'd only taken a few seconds for the wildfire to become uncontainable. It burned with a passion so destructive, so wrathful, the Fire Pixies couldn't even tame it. It was like it was a different breed of fire, one that was and wasn't at the same time.
Helpless.
That was what they were for the first time in millennia. Ever since Diana assigned them to this particular forest they'd been fully capable of handling every threat that arose.
Until now.
The situation had immediately escalated into something deadly and the pixies were forced to make a choice: either stay and die alongside their forest, or flee in hope of finding help. The latter was a smarter option; if they survived they could later return with aid and (hopefully) repair their sacred home—if a scrap of it even remained at that point.
So they ran.
Having inhabited these parts for centuries, the pixies knew the forest like the back of their hands; they'd memorized all of its in-and-outs, escape routes included. Uncovering them hadn't been the problem: it was getting there.
The unnatural fire, as if it had a mind of its own, had sought them out with a vengeance, pursed them the way a hungry snake chased after its prey. It'd blocked off all the paths leading out, separated and stranded their groups. Though their tribe was scattered throughout the forest, they were all ultimately imprisoned in this inferno. And a few were about to die at the hands of its creator.
Now, one of the groups—a small group of four pixies—huddled together, quaking uncontrollably with a sense of fear they'd never experienced before as the Fire Bringer approached.
The end was near.
That was an indisputable, inescapable truth given the whole plot of forest was bordered by flames, thus confining them within its hellish orange walls. There was always their wings since foot travel clearly wasn't an option, but to take flight in this firestorm would be a death wish. The flames reached high—so high, in fact, they blocked out the cold light of the stars and reddened the glow of the now blood moon. There was no way they could rise to a higher elevation without their precious wings catching aflame. Therefore, they were out of alternatives, had nowhere else to run.
The pixies were going to die, and they knew it.
That was why they held on to each other with such fervor, their trembling bodies huddled together. They wanted to be united even in death as it stalked closer with fiery finality.
Across the clearing, a nearing silhouette appeared behind the curtain of fire and it parted to let her through. The flames didn't so much as lick their mistress's skin as they bent to her will, curling away in reverence.
The Fire Bringer, the young fairy who was responsible for the devastating destruction, advanced toward the pixies with slow-measured steps, tendrils of deadly orange passing between her fingers. She was readying to burn them into the next world and judging by the lack of emotion on her face, she didn't have an ounce of remorse for the crime she was about to commit.
Brittle twigs and leaves crunched underfoot as she walked across the ruined, roasted sector of the forest. She didn't care that this was her work, that one of the oldest places in the Magic Dimension was dying at her hands. She didn't care that the Frelorns were screaming in agony, that she had single-handedly incinerated the habitats of rarest, most endangered species in the dimension. And it wasn't just the animals that were suffering; this forest was the residence of many native tribes, tribes whose villages had probably already been razed by this hell. Most of them were now homeless with no place to go, but their struggles and pain meant nothing to this monster.
No longer were these grounds a safe haven, but a wasteland, and they meant nothing to the Fire Bringer. She was completely impassive toward the widespread misery she'd induced, and the pixies would forever hate her for it.
But ultimately, they didn't mean anything to the Fire Bringer either, because she towered over them, holding up a hand that ignited with a whoomph.
Merciless.
That was what she was.
Knowing their time had finally come, all the pixies could do was bow their heads, bracing themselves for the unimaginable pain that would inevitably welcome eternal peace. Though they were ancient and immortal, the pixies had always figured they'd fade into the Afterlife someday—just not like this. Who would've guessed tonight, one that'd dawned as beautifully and normally as all the others, would be their last?
Oblivious to her soon-to-be-victims' terror, the Fire Bringer's flame-engulfed fist flared as she channeled more energy, making to bring it down on them—
"Hey."
The shout ripped through the night, somehow audible over the flames' persistent crackling.
The pixies' heads snapped up and the Fire Bringer half-turned, their attention pivoting to the source of the voice.
The pixies didn't know whether to be relived or scared as an airborne fairy—a wheezing wind fairy given the way high concentrations of the air's mana seemed to naturally pulse around her—labored through a screen of smoke and landed—no, almost crumpled to the ground. She was visibly weak from lack of oxygen and from the look of things, wouldn't last long.
Her eyes skittered to the pixies and though confusion glimmered there, they didn't linger and instead jumped back to the Fire Bringer. The Fire Bringer slowly turned all the way around, suddenly losing interest in the pixies. Without so much as a word, she proceeded toward the Wind Fairy, deeming her a worthier target.
The pixies, whose lives had momentarily been spared, squeaked in alarm as the Fire Bringer began to conjure a firebolt between her palms. The attack clearly had the Wind Fairy's name on it, but the onyx-haired fairy didn't budge at the sight of it. Refused to.
Though the pixies knew their language would sound like nothing but high-pitched chattering to her ears, they screamed at the newcomer: run, run. Being a wind fairy, fire drained her magic faster than any other; to stay would surely seal her fate.
Even so, the Wind Fairy clearly wasn't concerned with saving herself. Yet, despite the grim circumstances, there was a kernel of hope in her eyes. One that made it apparent she'd sought them intentionally. Could she possibly have a plan to end this madness?
The pixies could only watch as the Wind Fairy wasted no time in reaching for her pocket, whipping out a small item that winked gold in the firelight. She enlarged it in her hands, revealing it to be a gilded music box. With a trembling hand, she seized the crank and started to wind up the box.
Instantly, a delicate, silk-soft melody began to flow out the instrument, flitting on the dry winds on which embers floated on like tossed confetti. The music, its serenity somehow overpowering the roaring of the fire, immediately twinkled its way right into the pixies' hearts, but the Fire Bringer didn't bat an eye at it.
Balancing a fireball on her palm, she drew closer and closer to the Wind Fairy, who, despite her fast-approaching death, forced herself to turn the handle slowly so the lyric-less melody would glide out of its wooden shelter rhythmically.
It was a beautiful yet indecipherable song, a gentle lullaby that somehow put the pixies at ease even though a blazing demise prowled at every corner. It unburied a long-forgotten memory at the back of the minds, filled them with an odd sense of nostalgia. They'd heard this before, they then realized. And it wasn't an instrumental they were hearing, but a voice. It was too tranquil and intricate with its overlapping tones to belong to human vocal chords, so it had to be from some kind of creature. But of what kind? It was akin to a songbird's trill on a spring day but more…complex. Soothing.
They startled out of their almost-trance when the Wind Fairy started to choke more violently, the black pillars of smoke polluting her fragile human lungs. She couldn't afford to inhale this impure air much longer or she'd waste away, far faster than the pixies, whose durable innards were modeled after those of the immortal Fae. The poor girl could barely stand but by some exertion of will, held up if only to keep playing the music.
"Bloom," she managed to rasp, her voice no more than a harsh croak as she sweated profusely under the overwhelming heat of the fireball just inches away from her face. She was reeling and struggling for breath, visibly woozy.
The Fire Bringer—"Bloom"—didn't respond as the melody drew close to an end, readying to discharge the blast in her friend's face.
A particularly high note resonated throughout the forest, invoking a significant remembrance in the pixies.
This song—it wasn't a song at all. It was...it was—
The tune crawled to a close and when a powerful, chiming hum marked its epic conclusion, Bloom froze dead in her tracks and the whole forest went silent with the same realization:
A Dominus dragon song.
A memory of the once-blessed Planet Domino flashed through the pixies' mind and one of them sank to her knees as the surrounding bodies of fire suddenly choked out of existence in a fraction of a second.
Yes; the wildfire, which had danced all around them with the smug grin of a victor just a few moments ago, was inexplicably smothered to nothing in the little time it took the pixies to blink, disappearing into oblivion as if they'd never existed at all. Its orange light—a suffocating haze that'd made the forest look like the inside of a furnace—winked out as if something had merely switched it off, causing a widespread blackout effect as the darkness and stillness of night returned.
The Frelorns—well, what was left of them—and the rest of the surviving plant life sighed in relief as they were immediately relived of their blistering torment, their strangled thank-yous rising up to the once-again-white moon on pale wisps of smoke, the forest fire's aftermath.
The pixies too expressed their gratitude, cheers ringing out among them as they embraced each other. They were moved to tears, by the melody or the unexpected stroke of good fortune, they couldn't tell. It didn't matter; all that did was that they were alive. The ordeal was over and they would live to see another morning. The same went for their sisters; though the pixies were scattered throughout the woods, they were joined at heart and could feel one another's life force. A lot of them were weak but there nonetheless, and that was enough to fill them with joy. Their tribe would live on.
They were so busy celebrating they failed to realize the Wind Fairy's drawn-out coughing spell had come to an abrupt halt until Bloom's muffled cries replaced it. The pixies' celebration was cut short when they beheld the frightening scene unfolding before them.
The Wind Fairy had passed out and was now lying limp on the forest floor, having lost so much mana she couldn't even sustain her fairy form anymore. Her skin was a sickly pale and the rising and falling of her chest had slowed significantly—she was barely breathing!
A terrified Bloom was already trying to revive her, bringing her mouth to the Wind Fairy's to give her rescue breath. After blowing into her mouth a few times, the redhead started doing chest compressions. She was weeping.
"WhathaveIdonewhathaveIdone?" she panicked in between strangled sobs before lowering her mouth to the Wind Fairy's a second time.
Despite her best efforts, the pixies knew: she wouldn't make it. Having wind magic, smoke was her greatest adversary and it'd siphoned too much of her oxygen. It was too late for her. Unless—
That was when Bloom whipped her head around, regarding the pixies with eyes that were no longer solid fire but panicked pools of blue. Tears were streaming down her face, glistening in the moon's silvery light. "Help her—please," she pleaded desperately. Gone was the senseless destroyer that'd almost raised a hand against them just a few moments ago. It was like a whole new fairy had taken her place, one who looked so young and innocent. Even so, the pixies regarded her coolly. Regardless of the personality switch, she was still the person who was responsible for all this chaos. She was still the one they despised, still their enemy. But the same could not be said about the second girl.
By some quirk of fate that was too convenient to be a coincidence, a Wind Pixie was among them—one of their tribe's most experienced. This particular pixie, the shortest of her sisters with blue skin and antlers jutting out of her head, knew what she had to do and acted on instinct.
She scurried over to the collapsed fairy's side, dropping onto her knees on the carpet of burnt leaves beside Bloom, who had enough sense to give her room. The Wind Pixie made haste in positioning her hands on the fallen fairy's chest, right above her lungs. She closed her eyes, channeling the air's mana.
She was about to perform one of the most advanced spells in Wind Magic; even some of history's most accomplished windweavers hadn't been able to grasp its mechanics. The only reason the pixie could use it was because she'd learned from Farcelia Wind-Bearer herself. That wasn't to say she'd mastered it; in all the centuries she'd been alive she only attempted it a few times. That was why she was thankful she and the fairy were compatible in magic; it made the whole process easier.
Closing her eyes, the Wind Pixie called upon ancient forces and the wind and began muttering an incantation, a prayer, in the Old Language.
Bloom could only watch as the pixie's hands glowed with a blue mist that engulfed her friend's body. All around them, the wind started to eddy and swirl with a supernatural howl—like a thousand aged voices speaking simultaneously.
The wind picked up speed and Bloom clapped her hands over her ears as its cry intensified and raked her skin like phantom fingernails, as the invisible air nymphs and sylphs debated amongst themselves. What would be their final verdict?
Dancing on the gust was pure mana from the ethers of Linphea; the rawest, rarest kind, one that only the Ancient Beings from the Beginning could manipulate. It was fabled to have divine healing properties, ones that trumped those of even the gods. It'd been in abundance once, back when the dimension only consisted of Linphea and a handful of other worlds. The First People had used its awesome power in nearly all aspects of their lives but when their eyes opened to its darker potential, the Ancient Beings grew mistrustful of them and confiscated Pure Mana in fear of what lengths mankind's greed would take it to. They safeguarded it in their hidden places until this very day and it was up to them decide who would they'd share it with. If they shared it. Such a thing was unheard of, but Pure Mana was the only way to cure this fairy. Her fate was in their hands.
At first, the Wind Pixie feared the Ancient Beings would deny her request but then a voice called out,
"Heal her."
It was a voice only the creatures of the air could hear, one that belonged to the woman who governed all beings borne of the wind.
Tears prickled the corners of the Wind Pixie's eyes at the sound of it, for it was that was a voice she hadn't heard in a long time. The nymphs and sylphs had no choice but to yield their mistress's command and manipulated the gust that was their body into a spout. Only a few flecks of unseen particles flitted on it, but that was enough Pure Mana to restore the Wind Fairy back to health. It reached up the Wind Fairy's nostrils, allowed her to inhale its invisible contents.
Now that the deed was done, the wind died down and the howling quieted. All was still once again.
As the Wind Pixie rose to her foot, Bloom checked the Wind Fairy's pulse, which was already starting to normalize. The process would take a few hours, but the fallen fairy was sure to make a steady recovery.
The redhead seemed to understand her friend was no longer in danger. "Thank you," she whispered as the pixies began to retreat. They did not reply.
As the creatures faded into the shadows, the pink-skinned pixie lingered behind only to scoop up the music box, which had fallen out of the wind fairy's hand. Claiming it for herself, she allowed herself to take one last glance at Bloom before following her sisters into the darkness.
OoO
/Acadia's POV/
After what felt like an eternal game of tug-of-war between the white of sentience and the black of unconsciousness, White finally gave the winning yank and I felt myself fading out of the watery gray zone—the neutral space in between—and into the light.
Little by little, perception trickled back to me and I fought against it by sheer force of will. For reasons that were vague to me, I wanted to stay tethered to this void forever. Given the deep sense of trepidation the whiteness invited, I knew whatever awaited in the outside world was far from pleasant and I preferred to stay shut out from it, trapped in a world completely devoid of feeling. Nonetheless, I was hooked and could do nothing as White, unmerciful as a fisher who was determined to make a catch, reeled me in, pulled me up to the surface no matter how much I stubbornly thrashed about with the desperation to stay below.
Inevitably, I was yanked to the top, my defeat pronounced by a gasp of breezy, plastic-scented air. I started to reawake into the rest of my senses, feeling flooding to me all at once.
The first things I became aware of were my scratchy throat and the weight pressing down on my nose and mouth, held in place by the band around my face. My head was propped up on something stiff yet soft—a pillow? I was tucked in a foreign bed; that would explain the plushy warmth wrapped around my legs, which, by the feel of them, were no longer clad in sweatpants. Now, what I assumed to be a gown tickled the skin right above my knees.
In addition to all these new details, the low drone of a neighboring machine only confirmed my initial suspicion.
I was in a hospital. But more importantly,
I'm alive.
After relishing in this cherished fact for a few moments, I cautiously peeled open an eye, daring to take a peek at my surroundings.
Through blurred vision, I made out plastic slope resting over my nose—an oxygen mask. What the hell...? How did…
Shadowy, fragmented memories danced in my head, weighing my eyelids. Bloom, music, fire, Flora—Flora.
My alarm granted me a temporary boost of energy and I used it to whip my head around in search of my friend, whom I hazily remembered abandoning in the inferno.
I almost cried out in relief when I discovered my dear friend was only a few feet away, safely sleeping in the next bed. The curtain between us wasn't drawn so I could see her perfectly; unlike me, she wasn't hooked to anything and appeared to be in sound condition.
Good.
Satisfied, I let my body relax, melt into the covers. The reassurance that we were out of danger was enough to put me at ease and I closed my eyes, allowing it to lull me back to sleep…
OoO
After what felt like days of dwelling peacefully in my head, a faraway voice at the back of it acted as a vacuum, sucking me toward the white tunnel that was the portal out of my undisturbed state.
"Hey, I think she's waking up!" There was too much distance between me and the voice to discern who it belonged to, and I didn't want to close it. I knew I was on the brink of waking up but I tried to resist the pull toward the light anyway. All I wanted was to sleep. And just when I thought I was going to get my wish, when I began to sink back into the dark recesses of my mind—
An abrupt, foul stench swelled out of nowhere, reaching through the portal with a gnarled hand and yanking me through to the other side—
"What the fuck," I found myself gasping dryly as I jerked out of my sleep, coming to a smelly awakening.
"See. Told ya it'd do the trick," a triumphant voice seemed to shout above me. I didn't need to make out Stella's fuzzy outline or even her blur of blond hair to know it was her towering over me. "This stuff's so potent it could revive the dead."
"You dumbass!" exploded Musa from somewhere as I began to choke on the odor assaulting my nostrils, head whirling. "That could've caused some serious damage!"
Like always, Stella was the queen of nonchalance. "Relax, it was just a little spritz," she insisted as I lifted myself upright (which took more effort than I'd like). As I raised my hand to shield from nose from the invading, musky mist, I noticed Stella had slid the air mask off my nose.
"Stella, that was really dangerous." It was Flora's turn to scold the blond, the sound of her voice calming me. "You can't just go around taking off people's breathing aids so you can spray foreign fragrances up their noses. What if inhaling it hurt her lungs somehow?"
There was a flash of regret across Stella's face but I didn't heed it as I looked around. It turned out we were alone in what wasn't a hospital room, but Alfea's infirmary—a simple room with medical supplies/equipment neighboring each bed, forming a symmetrical row against each wall—which was flooded with late morning light thanks to the large rightward window. Stella, Tecna, and Musa were gathered around Bloom's, Flora's, and I's beds and judging by their oversized casualwear, messy hair, and the lines rimming their eyes (and the disposable coffee cups deposited on a nearby table), they hadn't gotten much sleep.
"Sorry—I didn't think about that," said Stella remorsefully. "I just wanted to—" And then to me, "That didn't hurt you, did you? Your breathing, I mean."
"Water," I managed to rasp. My tongue might as well have been a strip of sandpaper in my mouth.
"I got it." Tecna, seated in a chair at the foot of Flora's bed with her ever-present gadget, gestured toward the mini-fridge at the front of the room with her free hand and it opened. A bottle of water floated out as if it were being pulled by invisible strings and levitated over to me obediently. "The nurse said you might suffer from dehydration."
I nearly snatched it out of the air and undid the cap, greedily bringing it to my mouth. I gulped down more than half the bottle, the chilled liquid relieving my throat. "Ahh," I sighed after a long drink, voice less scratchy. "That's some good shit." Now that I had gotten some hydration and was nearly all-the-way lucid, I looked up at a now-fidgety Stella.
"What the hell was that?" I asked lowly to avoid putting further strain on my throat, eyes zeroing in on the 80s-looking perfume bottle in blond's manicured hand. "Where did you get that?" Because I knew damn well she wouldn't be caught wearing something that smelt like that. It smelt like a grandmother, meaning she must've gotten it from—
"Griselda," said Stella noncommittally, eyes boring into me with concern. "Are you—?"
"I can breathe fine," I insisted, inhaling deeply for emphasis. There was a faint prickling in my chest but it wasn't severe to the point it hurt it or made it difficult to draw in air.
"Maybe you should put your mask back on," suggested Flora, regarding me worriedly. My eyes skipped past Stella and regarded the nature fairy closely. She was sitting up straight without any sign of weakness or fatigue; from the looks of things, she'd waken up a while ago and was in the middle of a steady recovery. And even though she was holed up in an infirmary bed and clad in a depressing gown to match, she somehow looked...lively. Like the hell we'd just survived had little to no effect on her disposition. I couldn't decide if I was thankful, concerned, or jealous. My gaze moved on to Bloom next.
She was slumped in the bed on the other side of Flora's, staring at me with startlingly dull, dejected eyes. "I'm sorry."
That took me by surprise. Not because she was apologizing, but because how of dead-flat her tone was. She looked and sounded so low-spirited. Disheartened. The complete opposite of how she usually was, and it was unsettling.
She looked so beat and threadbare, more forty-year-old woman than sixteen-year-old girl. I would guess she would be worn-out; after all, she had managed to single-handedly conjure a whole damn wildfire. That'd been her first time ever using her hidden power and to use exert it to such a degree...No wonder she was so exhausted. It was a miracle she hadn't burned herself out; an attack that powerful would've drained any normal sorceress of her mana completely but then again, Bloom wasn't a normal sorceress. Enhanced stamina must've been one of the many perks of having the Dragon Fire.
I was glad—not because she was gloomy and washed-out but because she was herself. The Other Bloom—the desensitized one that'd been hell-bent on destroying us all—was gone and not a trace remained. If that wasn't enough to be thankful for, how about the fact we were all alive? Speaking of which—
"Where's everyone else?" I asked, panic creeping into the edges of my voice when I realized the rest of our fairly large group was missing. Please don't tell me—
"They're all okay," Musa was quick to clarify, "they're resting and being treated in the next room."
"No one has any serious wounds," added Tecna, "out of everyone, you were in the most critical condition but it seems you're healing at a remarkably fast rate."
There was a moment of silence as I contemplated posing the question that'd been eating at me since I sat up. "What…happened?" I asked at last. The last thing I remembered was tracking down Bloom while she was still in Overlord mode. I must've passed out sometime after that because everything else was fuzzy. "How long were we gone? How'd you guys find us?"
"It's been a little over two days since we all left for Steass," replied Tecna, much to my astonishment. These past two days had felt like two months. The technofairy hit a button on her handheld and it projected a holographic screen that was playing live footage—I then realized it was an overhead view of our Candi-Alvaz confrontation back in Lamya's tomb. We watched through the eyes of Tecna's bug drone as it not-so-discreetly spied on us up until Alvaz sent a wave of dark magic in its direction. That was when the recording cut short and static took its place. "Stella, Musa, and I and hurried this information to the nearest police station the second we lost contact with your and Flora's group. Meanwhile, Sky, Brandon, and Bloom, who were in closest proximity to the museum at the time, decided to rush to the scene of the crime to see if they provide backup. It wasn't long before they went unresponsive too."
"He was waiting for us," was all a drained Bloom could say on the matter. That part of the story would probably come later, most likely from Sky and Brandon since she didn't seem willing to elaborate.
Tecna nodded before her attention pivoted back to me—it was then I realized she'd already told this to Flora and Bloom. "Yes. Your abductor—the warlock named Alvaz—figured whoever had been keeping you under surveillance would eventually come seeking you out so he lied in wake for them. It wasn't soon after Bloom's and the others' positions were compromised. They, like the rest of you, were whisked off to his hideout without so much as a clue as to what happened. The authorities would later raid Lamya's hidden burial ground to find her sarcophagus was also missing."
"Skip up a few hours and both Headmistress Faragonda and the headmaster of Red Fountain got involved," continued Tecna, "it was at this point the situation got…complicated." I bet. I could imagine Faragonda hadn't been particularly pleased when she discovered some of her students had inserted themselves in her and MCDP's private investigation and gotten captured as a result. "Not only were they and the police thrown into the mix but a fourth party showed up: those two old witches from Trillium Moon. A hasty alliance was forged and the witches didn't waste time in attempting a tracking spell to find your mana signatures. Naturally, it didn't work; you'd all been long cloaked by then. Fortunately, I'd taken this possibility into account prior to us departing for Steass and had already put the necessary precautions in place."
"Tecna, being the tech nerd she is, came to the rescue once again," commented Stella, for once sounding more admiring than teasing. A rare instance.
I looked to Tecna for further explanation.
"The solution was quite simple, really," the fairy shrugged, "since it was obvious whoever was responsible for all the kidnappings was using cloaking charms to hide their victim's signatures, I combated this strategy with one of my own: a GPS tracker."
My heart leapt in my chest and it was my turn to admire her. "You bugged us?" Tecna, you smart bitch.
"Only Brandon, Karel, and Musa; a member from each group. They all volunteered to swallow a harmless microchip before we boarded the train." Huh? I was there; how the hell did that slip by me? "Having no mana to mask, the trackers were not subjected to Alvaz's spells and thus remained online even when you all got carried off to that underground labyrinth on Linphea."
My eyes widened in disbelief. "We were all the way on Linphea?"
"Yes. According to my device, all of your coordinates jumped from Magix to Linphea in a matter of seconds. It's my guess Alvaz has instant teleportation. That's the only explanation as to why he'd been able to cover the distance so quickly. On the other hand, it'd taken us a solid few hours to get there by aircraft."
"'Us?'" I repeated.
"Thanks to Alfea's, Red Fountain's, and MCDP's conjoined forces, a rescue mission was launched almost immediately. It'd taken more time than we'd liked for everything to be finalized, but we ended up leaving sometime yesterday afternoon. We were accompanied by the headmistress, the Volreich sisters, and a considerable squad of sentries from Red Fountain. Given the fact a few of its students were unaccounted for as well, the headmasters reached out to Cloud Tower for extra support but their request went unanswered."
"Ignored is more like it," muttered Musa.
"You guys should've seen it," said Stella, sitting down on the edge of my bed."They brought out the big guns; you'd think we were going to war with all the guys we went with. I think there were even a few soldiers from the Fortress of Light Council. It was kind of exciting." An appropriate response to the resurfacing of an old enemy. Had Lamya the Asp, the Prince of Darkness's right-hand man, been allowed to be revived...The Magic Dimension could've been facing another deadly war between Good and Evil, a clash that could send the universe into another millennia-long ruin. It was of utmost necessity they crushed the threat before it budded into something dangerous, unstoppable.
I raised an eyebrow. "Why do I get the feeling you three weren't supposed to be there?"
Stella grinned. "'Because we weren't."
"As I was saying," went on Tecna, "it took nearly half a day for us to fly out to your positions, which thankfully hadn't changed. Night had already fallen by the time we arrived and..."
Musa's face was grim as she picked up where Tecna left off. "We could see the smoke from miles away. It was this huge pillar that almost swallowed the whole sky."
Bloom whimpered.
Musa shot her a sympathetic look but carried on for my sake. "We were confused; even though there was a shit-ton of smoke, we didn't see any fire."
My heart accelerated. How was that possible?
"There was evidence a fire existed at some point; we could see the devastation from our aerial view but nothing was burning. At first we thought the rangers put it out—"
"Wait, so you guys mean you weren't the first responders?" I cut in, confused.
Tecna shook her head. "As Flora can tell you, Frelorn Forest is Linphea's fifth-oldest, making it one of the most historic, sacred places in the whole dimension. Due to its significance, it's considered a landmark and is thus under the protection of Linphea's Conservation Act. To ensure its preservation there are multiple ranger stations posted throughout forest grounds, all of them equipped with specially trained officers who operate as a single all-hazards emergency response organization. They detected the start of the wildfire during one of their routine patrols and immediately dispatched several units to handle the situation before it got out of hand. Unfortunately, they weren't fast enough. According to them, the fire spread within a matter of minutes. By the time disaster services made it to the scene a whole quadrant of Frelorn had already been incinerated. It grew faster than they could subdue it with fire retardant and had the potential to consume the whole forest had it not been for an unforeseen miracle."
"It was the weirdest thing," said Flora softly, "one minute the flames were headed toward me and then they just...vanished, almost like they extinguished themselves. Not even a spark remained. It happened shortly after Acadia ran off to find Bloom." She glanced at me. "Whatever you did...it worked."
I shook my head. "It wasn't me—it was Bloom. She must've called them off when she finally got a hold of herself. By the way—" I looked to Bloom. "Fire magic, huh?"
Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say because Bloom seemed to shrink in her bed. Seeing she didn't want to talk about it, I quickly changed the subject. "How long did it take to find us?" I asked Tecna.
"Not long," replied Tecna, "while the headmasters, witch sisters, and a few of our sentries went below ground to storm Alvaz's refuge, the relief team and the rest of us conducted the rescue mission. For the most part you were all scattered among the outskirts of the affected area and weren't hard to track down. The exception was you and Bloom, whom we eventually found in the focal point of the charred ruin. Out of everyone, your injuries were the most severe. You'd fainted from too much smoke inhalation and an on-site medical evaluation revealed that your lungs had suffered permanent damage."
I inhaled again. There was that tickle again, but no pain chased it. "But they feel fine."
"Your condition was expected to get worse, but your lungs started repairing themselves without any medical treatment," explained Tecna, "this baffled the doctors; according to them, only the strongest of healing magics can accomplish something like that."
"That creature," said Bloom suddenly. All eyes landed on her. "There were these short creatures with antlers and brightly colored skin," the redhead said, "they were there when—I think I was going to—" She took a shuddering breath. "One of them did some kind of spell on Acadia when she passed out. I think that's the reason she was able to recover so quickly."
"Those were woodland pixies," said Flora knowingly, "nearly every forest on Linphea has a group of Guardian Pixies who've been looking after the forest for generations. Since Frelorn is so old its respective Guardians must be too. Legend has it they served the First Fairies and possess a lot of Lost Magics. That's probably how they were able to help Cadey." Those things were pixies? But they looked nothing like the kind in season 2. They must've been a different breed because the ones in the forest had been the size of a small child.
That was when something very important occurred to me. "What about Candi?" I blurted. She was the root of the problem, the reason all this shit had happened in the first place. Had it hadn't been for her getting involved with Alvaz, we wouldn't have been put in danger. Not to mention she was responsible for uncovering and activating one of the seals containing Lamya's soul, thus making her resurrection possible.
Musa's and Stella's faces darkened. "The bitch fled," the former spat, "they combed the whole forest but couldn't find her at all. The police are still probing her disappearance. I heard her father and the rest of her family are persons of interest in the investigation. They're suspected to have played a part in Candi's alliance with Alvaz."
For some reason I wasn't surprised. Of course the coward would rather run away than face the consequences of her actions. Tecna's footage was direct proof she'd been conspiring with Alvaz; to show her face in public would undoubtedly guarantee her arrest. She was now a fugitive and though it might've made me a jackass, her fate pleased me (and Musa from the looks of it). She got her just dessert and it couldn't be any sweeter. "Good fucking riddance," I snorted. "At least we won't have to worry about her being a pain in our asses anymore. Flora and all her other victims are officially free of her torment." Though the nature fairy should've been relieved she looked the exact opposite. Once again, she was fearing for Candi's well-being even though the whore didn't deserve a fraction of her concern.
"And to make sure she never becomes a problem again Tecna hacked all her devices and linked social media accounts," Stella seemed happy to report, "she erased all the pictures of Flora and everything else Candi might've used to hold against the other girls later. And she changed the passwords so it's safe to say no one will be getting in contact with her anytime soon."
I managed a small grin at Tecna. "You're officially my new favorite person."
Tecna dismissed the compliment. "Oh please. That was merely child's play," she insisted even though she was clearly pleased with herself.
There was a brief moment of silence. No one knew what to say next, so I came to the rescue. "I guess this means it's over," I said. Though I never would've guessed our little excursion to Steass would result to this. I'd even say it was a good thing everything turned out the way it did. Sure, a lot of bad came out of the situation—part of Frelorn was burnt to a crisp and the Trix knew about Bloom's Dragon Fire— but so did a lot of good. Had it not been for Candi seeking our help, the plot to revive Lamya never would've been brought to light and Ahisa and the others' would've been used like lambs in her sacrificial ritual. Not to mention Bloom would get a head start on learning fire magic and discovering her heritage.
Speaking of Bloom, she was still sulking in her bed. "What was it like?" I dared to ask.
At first I didn't think she would open up but much to my surprise, she did. "I don't know," she admitted, staring up at the ceiling with defeated eyes. "When that witch tried to hurt Brandon I just...lost it. I can't explain it but I got this weird feeling all over my body—it was like my blood became lava. I was so angry it felt like I was on fire. This might sound weird but there was this...voice at the back of my head and it was begging to be let out. It said it could save everyone if I let it take control so I did..." Upon seeing how bewildered we all looked, she used her blanket to hide her face as a flush of shame and embarrassment rose to her cheeks. "I must sound like some kind of manic," she said apologetically, voice muffled by the fabric.
"No—go on," urged Musa softly, "we're not judging you; we're just trying to imagine what that must've been like. I would've been scared out of my mind if I was in your shoes."
"Trust me, I was. I didn't know what else to do so I yielded to whatever it was that was calling out to me. I never—" Her voice wavered, thick with oncoming tears. "I never expected it to take over like that. I lost complete control of myself as if I'd been hijacked. The Other Me went insane and I couldn't grip a grip on her—me. My body was no longer my own yet I was still in it somehow. All I saw was this red haze—It's hard to explain."
"Actually it's not," said Tecna matter-of-factly, ever the knowledgeable one. "What you experienced was most likely a direct result of extreme circumstance triggering your survival instincts. You've never suspected having fire magic, have you?"
Bloom shook her head. "Or any special magic. I always figured I was just a plain fairy. How do I even have fire powers? I've never been drawn to it or had a special connection. In fact, I'm just as scared of fire as the next person. Do you think it's something I've developed just recently? Maybe since I've been around so many sorcerers—"
"Magic isn't contagious," interrupted Tecna, "it's not something that can merely be passed on like a cold. Whether or not a person has the potential to use magic in any of its varying forms is determined at birth. That being said, you've had fire magic all your life but thanks to Earth's insufficient amount of mana it remained dormant up until just recently. It's a known fact anger is the source of power for pyrokinetics; yours must've forced your fire out of its slumber as part of your flight-or-fight response."
"Just like when we fought that ogre on Earth," piped up Stella, "you used magic for the first time when you thought Knut was going to hurt Kiko."
"Yes, except this time your reaction was far more explosive since the stakes were higher," continued Tecna, "thanks your fierce desire to protect yourself and those around you, you involuntarily called upon your power for the first time and it was a shock to your body, thus overwhelming you. And since your magic is tied to your emotions, it acted on behalf of your aggression, producing near-catastrophic results. You would've kept destroying everything in sight until you either burned yourself out or regained your senses. Thankfully, the latter happened first. And while we're on that subject, how did you restrain your urges?"
Bloom's eyes were glassy. ""I don't know—there was this music playing somewhere and it reminded me of home, which is weird since I've never heard it before. It made me think of Mom and Dad and then I was back in my right mind again. I don't know why or how. When I 'woke up' I was in the middle of the forest and Acadia was lying on the ground. I couldn't remember how either of us got there."
So the music box worked after all. Wait a minute. Where was the music box? As evenly as I could, I asked, "Do you know where the music came from?" since she clearly didn't remember the part I played. Hell, I barely did. I could only heard a few snippets of the song because I'd been too busy fading in and out, flirting with unconsciousness.
"There was a music box lying on the ground but I didn't pay much attention to it. I think it belonged to the pixies. They took it with them when they ran away after the one pixie revived you."
I tried not to wince. That was one of Domino's last remaining artifacts and I lost it. Guilt stung my chest. Daphne was bound to be disappointed about that; after all, that music box was—had been her only tie to Domino and the Better Days. I imagined she would miss it greatly.
Musa made to say something, but was interrupted by the soft groan of the tall oak doors at the end of the room as they eased open with magical fluidity. All attention was drawn to Headmistress Faragonda as she advanced into the room with Andelle and Violet flanking her on either side. In comparison to the Volreich sisters, Faragonda could pass as young; while her mass of white hair and the budding wrinkles about her eyes were the only things that hinted at her age, Andelle and Violet were on a whole different level of old with withered, drooping skin and small, hunched frames.
Their gazes immediately shifted between Bloom, Flora, and me and upon accessing our condition, small smiles graced their faces. "Well well. Looks like Violet and I won't be needing new crew members after all," announced Andelle, though I doubted she thought there was ever a possibility to begin with.
Tecna, Musa, and Stella all rose. "Headmistress—you're back!" exclaimed Stella. From investing Alvaz's hideout, I assumed. That'd taken them longer than I expected but then again, that labyrinth was huge and they'd needed to be thorough in their search to minimize the prospect of looking over crucial evidence.
Maybe it wasn't my place to ask, but I said, "Did you find her remains?"
All three ladies' eyes dimmed and I knew we were in for bad news. They glanced amongst themselves, inaudibly debating whether or not we needed to get any more involved than we already were. At last, Violet said solemnly said, "We could not find Lamya's coffin."
Flora loosened at the revelation. "That must mean they got destroyed in the explosion."
Unlike her, Tecna understood and frowned. "There would still be traces of them left over if that was the case. Ashes at least."
"Oh." Flora has the sense to look worried. "What does that mean?"
"We can only assume Alvaz or another of the Asp's worshippers saved her corpse from being incinerated," sighed Faragonda, making me realize how weary she looked. She, Saladin, and the Volreich sisters had definitely pulled an all-nighter. "This raises extreme concern among the members of the Council." It should; if Lamya's body was still intact there was a chance her final wish would be fulfilled. Unless…
'What about the pillars?" I asked.
The old fairy's and crones' faces made it clear they didn't have a clue about what I was talking about. "The Seven Pillars that contain Lamya's soul," I clarified, "the ritual can't take place without them."
"They were small, golden statuettes," added Flora, "and six of them in total. Candi was…" She trailed off, realizing the gravity of the situation.
"Candace Burkett, the girl who's in league with Alvaz. She's supposedly the Seventh Pillar," I explained, "according to Alvaz, she somehow absorbed a fragment of Lamya's life force. That's why he targeted her specifically."
The ancient sorceress looked alarmed. "The girl must be found," Andelle said to her two partners. "Should we allow our enemies to find her first…." She didn't have to say the rest: Lamya would walk the worlds once more.
This was a very serious issue, one Faragonda waved away before our fear could sink in. "That's a discussion for another time. For now, let's just be grateful for these turn of events and count our blessings. We suffered no causalities, the girls returned safely, and one even managed to unlock her inner power," she said, looking to Bloom with a small smile. The redhead didn't return it.
"Two," I corrected, glancing at Flora. "You have air magic like me." And she'd used it better than I ever had on her first try.
The girls perked at this. "Wait, you have air magic? Since when?" demanded Stella, "why didn't I know about this?"
Flora blushed. "I just found out yesterday. It's still a huge shock. I always had this odd connection with the wind, but I thought that was just because I was from the nature realm."
"So now you have two magics," said Musa, "I'm jealous."
"Actually, I think she has three," spoke up Tecna, "remember that incident with the ice?"
Oh yeah. And maybe even four if that fiery flicker from a few months ago meant anything. We could have another fire fairy on our hands.
"Three?" For the first time today, Bloom actually looked something other than exhausted: curious. "You can have that many?"
"Indeed. The sorcerers of Linphea are especially known for this," said Violet. "The standard amount of magics they're known to possess at a time is four."
"So Flora could have another power we don't know about," I teased, "who knows? Maybe she'll end up with fire like Bloom."
"Only time will tell. And if that is her fate then I'd be more than happy to be her mentor," announced Andelle, who happened to have the fire gift. She regarded Bloom kindly. "Just as I'd be happy to teach you, my dear."
Bloom nodded, but I knew she had no desire to use her newfound powers ever again. For now, at least. She'd rise to the challenge in due time. In her own time. I had upmost faith in her, just like I had faith in Flora.
To think: we'd actually learn wind magic together. It was like some sort of dream, one it was high time for me to stop neglecting and start living. I'd like to think today marked the beginning of a brand new chapter, one I wanted to experience wholeheartedly and to the fullest. Though challenges, some of which were bound to be disheartening, were sure to lie in the road ahead, I'd press onward and make every second count.
Every second.
oOo
Later in the day, after another short nap and a few more just-to-be-safe checkups from Ofelia the school nurse, Bloom, Flora, and I were officially admitted from the infirmary and were free to roam around as long as we stayed on school grounds. Naturally, our first thought was to visit the others, who were recovering in a separate room in the wing.
Though Stella, Tecna, and Musa had been back and forth between us and them the whole day they decided to hold off on sleep a little bit longer and come with us. The infirmary room brightened when we entered thanks to everyone's eyes lighting up at the sight of us.
"Well well well. Look who finally decided to drag their asses out of bed," said Sky (Brandon). Which was ironic given the fact he was still in bed. The same went for Brandon (Sky), Alice, and Ahisa, all who were clad in matching patient gowns. Something about the scene seemed off and a quick head count made me realize: we were missing people.
"What happened to Karel and the witches?" asked Flora, beating me to it.
"The headmistress of Cloud Tower picked the Trix and that other witch up a long time ago," replied Stella dismissively, who seemed to spawn at Sky's (Brandon's) bedside. "As for that cute Specialist, he was discharged earlier since he recovered before everyone else. I think he's still hanging around here somewhere."
Sky (Brandon) raised an eyebrow. "'Cute?'" he repeated, jealousy stinging the edges of his voice as Flora not-so-subtly slipped out of the room with the intention of tracking down Saladin's grandson.
His envy wasn't lost on Stella and it clearly thrilled her. "Don't worry, you have him beat," she drawled.
Before they could start another flirting session, Bloom stepped forward. "I owe you all an apology," she announced, bowing her head in shame. "It's my fault you're all here. I—"
"You're right," cut in Brandon (Sky) solemnly, who was swinging his legs over the side of the bed and resting them on the floor. "It IS your fault we're here." Everyone's attention snapped to him and Musa and I glared murder as he walked over, his gait normal enough to make it clear the infirmary was not where he belonged. "I don't think you realize this Bloom, but you're the only reason we're alive."
Bloom looked up.
"Yeah. If you hadn't gone all bad-ass on that witch she would've totally fed us to the dark gods," piped up Ahisa. Ahisa. Words couldn't express how happy it made me to see her safe and in good health. Our eyes met. "You didn't forget me," she said softly as I started over.
I touched her face. "Of course I didn't. Alice didn't either." And speaking of Alice, I turned around to find her studying me closely.
The ice fairy's smile was the opposite of her magic. "How are you?"
"I'm sure you already know the answer to that," I joked.
Her face fell. "I'm sorry," she said. For leaving us in the dark about her visions. For leading us into the lion's den without any form of warning.
"Don't worry about it," I said and meant it. Whatever anger I'd harbored toward her had dissipated. In the end, all had worked out just like she said it would and for that I couldn't hold a grudge.
"If anything, it's us who owes you something," Brandon (Sky) was saying, resting a hand on a flustered Bloom's shoulder. "You saved all of our lives and we're in your debt."
"Uh, I'll have to take a rain check," joked Bishop, drawing my attention to where he sat in the windowsill. "I'm in enough debt as it is." He had a cigarette between his lips.
"You dumb shit," I snapped. Even though we could've easily been Ofelia or the headmistress checking up on them, he hadn't bothered hiding it at least. "Haven't you inhaled enough smoke in the last few hours? How the hell did you even get cigarettes?"
Bishop blew a cloud of some through the open window. "The short girl got 'em for me in exchange for a little favor," he said, waggling his eyebrows. With his bald-except-in-the-middle head and tatted arms, he looked…at odds in his patient gown.
"No, I got them because you said you had a nicotine craving going and would die from shock if you didn't get your fix," said a matter-of-fact voice from behind.
Mi Sun appeared with a tray of refreshments in-hand. We traded smiles as she advanced over to our roommates' bedsides.
One of my eyebrows shot up. "And where'd you get them?"
A grin. "Amaryl. I hounded her for a few."
As she started pouring lemonade for everyone, Stella stepped toward Bishop. "Bishop, is it?" she drawled, "I heard you're a shapeshifter. Care to give us a little demonstration?" She batted her eyelashes, which made Sky (Brandon) and Musa roll their eyes.
Bishop turned his face in our direction, and I realized it was in the process of morphing into someone else's. His small olive-black eyes warped into brown-yellow pools, his features suddenly becoming more symmetrical and feminine as tendrils of golden hair sprouted from his head—
We all gasped at the finished, but not as loud as Stella.
"It's like looking in the mirror," she breathed, awestruck by the fact it was no longer Bishop's face that stared back at her, but her own. "I truly am a work of art." And without warning, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against Bishop's-but-technically-her cheek, surprising us all by surprise. "I always wanted to kiss my own face," she cracked after pulling away.
Usually, her vanity annoyed me but today it made me ticklish. I laughed and so did everyone else, mainly because it felt good to. Why not? We'd earned that luxury. We'd been through hell and back these past few days, but all of that was behind us. Our futures were ours once again, and I think that alone was enough to celebrate.
OoO
/No one's POV/
Candace Burkett hoisted herself onto the creekside, dirt bunching between her (ringless, she lamented) fingers as she pulled slender, sopping body up onto the disgustingly moist, muddy slope.
Chilled to the bone with twigs tangled in her hair and mud painting her face, she lay there for a moment, shivering madly—from the cold or her boiling anger, she couldn't tell. It didn't matter; nothing fucking mattered. Not when she was still trapped in this accursed forest. She swore she'd burn the whole thing down one day.
Alvaz betrayed her.
The truth was like a knife to her heart, one that drove itself deeper and deeper every time she thought about it.
After everything she'd done for him—from fetching his sacrificial lambs to warming his bed—he went on and beat her to the punch. She promised to kill him for it. That is, if he didn't get his hands on her first.
She was no fool; she knew it would only be a matter of time before he sought her out. After all, she housed a part of his precious mistress's soul. If he wanted any chance at reviving that whore he'd have to track her down. She knew he'd break her body and shatter her soul if it meant Lamya would have her own, so she'd need a way to abstract the Asp's life force from her own if she wanted any chance of surviving. She'd make that happen some way or another. There were plenty of dark guilds around, meaning there was bound to be an old warlock out there who was willing to help in exchange for a night with her. Finding one shouldn't be a problem, but what would be was staying under both Alvaz's and the authorities' radar. The fact that multiple forces were currently hunting her would complicate her plans, but it would not matter in the end. She would outsmart them all.
And then she'd get her revenge. On Alvaz. On her family. On those wretched ex-classmates of hers who had a knack for ruining everything. No one would be safe from her.
But for now, she'd squat in this miserable forest until she had the means of getting back to civilization. Then she'd work in the shadows, building up her resources until it was her who was the asp, waiting for the right moment to strike from behind and bite her enemies' ankles so they'd fall and waste away before her. She would be restored to her former glory and she didn't care what she had to do to get there, even if it meant selling her body or someone else's. Doing so would only be a small price to pay, especially with what she had planned. Her enemies had not seen the last of her—no, not by a long shot.
I will not lose, I will not lose, I will not lose—
OoO
Karel Gleirscher Wuestenhagen, grandson of the legendary Saladin Gleirscher Wuestenhagen, was on the brink of losing all patience—well, the little he had left.
He leaned against the wall nearby Alfea's propped-open entrance, shut off from the lively activity bustling in the courtyard outside as the school grounds came alive with the evening vigor of the dismissed fairies. He hadn't stirred from his spot in well over an hour now, deeming it best to keep the courtyard in his peripheral so he could see when his cousins arrived—if they arrived.
If things were up to him, he just would've departed with the other Specialists, who'd taken off with Codatorta while ago. But alas, Saladin had given the direct order for Karel to remain behind and though the Specialist had mixed feelings about his grandfather, he knew better than to disobey one of the most powerful wizards in the dimension even if he was suspicious of the old man's motives.
Karel wasn't stupid; although Saladin hadn't specified who exactly would be manning the transport ship set to pick him up, Karel didn't doubt for a second it was one of his bothersome cousins. And if it was indeed one of his cousins, that could only mean he was about to get entangled in the affairs of the Gleirscher Wuestenhagen clan, a fate he tried hard to avoid. Mainly because Karel didn't want anything to do with his relatives (family was too intimate of a word); why would he when they'd unashamedly shunned him most of his life? The only relation Karel had to them was through blood; other than that, they were nothing to him and vice versa. Because of his parents' decisions and the Gleirscher Wuestenhagens' harsh opinions of them, Karel, naturally, was destined to be the outcast. And as far as noble houses went, he was more than that; he was the polluted little secret they made sure to keep in the dark. And they'd made sure to express their disapproval of his existence by casting him aside, deeming him unworthy of their time much less their name. Thus, he'd grown up alone and for the longest hadn't known he even had living relatives. But they'd definitely known about him and his living conditions but turned a blind eye to him anyway, leaving an orphanated child to fend for himself without bothering to send aid. A testament to their resentment, which had only intensified when Saladin sought Karel out and proclaimed him a Gleirscher Wuestenhagen not long ago. Regardless of the fact he was officially acknowledged as one of them by the head of the family—a deed they despised but wouldn't dare challenge—the others had made it clear they'd never accept him and proved it by snubbing him further.
So for them to suddenly involve themselves with him...Something was afoot and Karel didn't know what. But he'd keep his guard up nonetheless. He had more sense than to let himself get stabbed in the back.
The majestic light of sunset flooded into the castle's dome-shaped entrance hall, dying in every deep orange. The effect drew Karel's eyes upward, at the glasswork that shone bright above the grand staircase.
Dominating most of the wall at the top of it was an array of arched windows, consisting of stained glass that caught the evening light and casted muted prisms of it on the glossy floor. One of the most breath-taking things about it, though, was the winged woman depicted in the biggest, central-most window.
She was featureless, nothing more than a large emerald outline set against a lighter backdrop of light blues, yellows, and greens. She was engulfed in a magical aura, an effect skillfully constructed by the brightly tipped shards bordering her. Among the other geometric patterns pieced together within the flanking windows were bright-yellow circles of varying sizes, a representation of the realms and their significance in the evolution of magic.
The Lady in the Glass.
A generic but meaningful name for the historic masterpiece crafted by the talented artists who'd help design Alfea all those millennia ago.
It was one of the most famous works of art on Magix, and for good reason. It was a simple yet stunning display of precision, detail, color, but what'd earned its dimension-wide popularity and admiration was the spectacular lightshow Karel was currently witnessing.
Having been made from Solarian material, the textured glass absorbed the sun rays, making all the colors glow with solar radiance. The depictions of the planets glowed as if they were actual celestial bodies and the Lady looked like she was afire in magical essence granted to her by the brilliance of the universe.
Though Karel didn't have an eye for art, unlike one of his cousins, even he had to admit it was beautiful. Given this was his first time experiencing its magnificence in the flesh, he couldn't help but study it incessantly, not looking away even when he caught whiff of a delicate, soil-and-roses-kissed scent approaching.
"It's beautiful, isn't it? Even though I've been here for a while now I never get tired of looking at it."
Karel allowed himself to look away from the wall and glance over at Flora, who was regarding him shyly. She wisely chose to stand a safe distance away from him, not out of fear but for respect for his standoffish nature. "What do you want?" he asked in a tone that was neither off-putting nor welcoming. One that suggested the fairy skip the pleasantries and state her business so she could be on her way.
The lovely girl shifted awkwardly, taking a sudden interest in the floor as her face flushed pink. "Uh, I just wanted to thank you. For sticking with us through everything."
Karel snorted. Typical fairy. Their foolish, instinctive inclination to assume everyone was on their side was irritatingly ignorant. "You misinterpret my intentions. Do not confuse them for friendship." He was just doing his duty to his grandfather and happened to coincidentally get involved with her circle. Even if that wasn't the case, he didn't owe her an explanation. All she needed to know was that companionship was not in his interests. Especially not with her friends. From the little he'd seen of them in action it was clear they were all an odd people and he'd rather not let himself get dragged into their nonsense. "I have no desire to befriend anyone so don't waste your breath."
Flora's face fell, her expression dimming. She clearly hadn't been expecting his response and was disappointed, if not embarrassed. Though he might've been cruel for it, to say Karel was remorseful would be a lie and he wouldn't bother insisting otherwise. The truth was the truth and besides: her feelings were not his to treat like a glass figurine. It wasn't his problem if she was sensitive. Fragility was just an invitation for heartbreak anyway, as she would one day learn.
"Oh. I understand," she said, though her voice lacked as much conviction as her face. There was an awkward pause. "I guess I'll see you around town?" It came out more like a hope-tinged question.
"Perhaps." Not a definite no, but not a definite yes either. He wouldn't get her hopes up, nor would be cut them down.
His answer seemed to placate her. She started to say something but stopped short when a sudden gust of wind blew into the entrance hall. They both turned to find an aircraft bearing the Gleirscher Wuestenhagen family crest lowering into a park in the courtyard, the students clearing the way for the first-class transport. His cousins had arrived. About time; one minute longer and Karel would've ended up making the return to Red Fountain on foot.
"That's your ride?" asked a stunned Flora, just as impressed as the other girls as they beheld the luxury vehicle.
"Yes. I've been summoned be elsewhere," said Karel, pushing off his spot on the wall and starting toward the doors.
"Okay then. Have a safe trip," she said with a small wave. Karel returned the gesture with a respectful nod full before stepping outside in the crisp evening air. Thanks to his heightened senses, he could smell its interlapping undertones of cedar and fall flowers. He felt the nature fairy's eyes on him still as he walked across the courtyard to meet the ship's sole passengers. Sure enough, Saladin had sent two of his other grandsons but not the ones Karel expected.
"Greetings, cousin," announced Aeschres Gleirscher Wuestenhagen, his thunderous voice drawing—commanding attention as he strolled down the ramp with the swagger of the arrogant, overconfident warrior he was. His long chestnut hair was braided into a single loose plait and he was garbed in casual armor. "I hope we did not keep you waiting too long." A blatant lie and they both knew it.
"What is this about?" asked Karel in a cautious deadpan.
"Grandfather summoned everyone to the manor for a clan meeting," said a voice as Aeschres's companion joined them in the courtyard.
Karel hid his surprise at the sight of Helia Gleirscher Wuestenhagen, who was garbed in a poet's attire. He and Aeschres were an odd pairing, especially since the latter made it clear he did not like the thought of a Gleirscher Wuestenhagen attending art school. To not attend school at Red Fountain like every other Gleirscher Wuestenhagen male was considered an insult to the family name, but since Helia happened to be Saladin's favorite….
"Why did he request my presence?" asked Karel stonily. They all knew he wouldn't be welcomed at his grandfather's house. Not by Saladin himself, but by the other family members. He was a stain they did not want to be reminded of.
Aeschres shrugged. "Who knows? All I know is that we mustn't keep him waiting." And with that, he started back toward the ship.
Helia shot Karel a sympathetic look, but he ignored it. They too made to board the ship but paused when a voice suddenly called down,
"Hi, Helia!"
Both of their heads snapped up to find that Wind Fairy—Acadia—standing on one of the castle balconies, waving down at them.
Though she somehow knew his name, it was clear Helia did not know her but gave an awkward wave anyway.
Karel simply raised a questioning eyebrow up in her direction.
An odd people indeed.
Aeschres (eh-sure-ess)
Gleirscher Wuestenhagen (…just paste that thing in Google Translate).
