"Didn't expect to find you in this universe of all places," Xerxes said disdainfully, looking around.
Dakeria rolled her eyes. "What do you want here?"
He glanced at her, maybe trying to read her body language to gauge her thoughts.
"Well? Are you going to tell me, or should I just destroy you now?" Dakeria asked, annoyed.
"Fine..." Xerxes said, "I need your help. In return, I can give you information. Those... Winx... you're looking for were in the Golden Kingdom. I observed them and know their next steps."
Dakeria raised an eyebrow.
He knew she didn't trust him, which is why he had prepared himself in this way...
"Why did you attack me in the marketplace?" she asked.
Xerxes stepped closer. His ruby-red eyes looked demonic in the dim light.
"If you had gotten what you wanted there, I would have had to chase you to the next universe. I don't have time for that," he said, rolling up his sleeve. His entire left forearm was black. Or rather, his veins and arteries were blackened.
Poison.
Not ordinary poison, as Dakeria knew. She knew the one who concocted this poison... After all, she had been his first test subject. The mad scientist from the undercity... How long had she suffered under his experiments?
"If it spreads, I'm dead," Xerxes said, snapping her out of her revengeful thoughts.
"...I know," Dakeria replied. After a pause, she asked, "Who did this to you?"
Xerxes' expression darkened instantly: "...Cecilia."
Dakeria gave him an "I-told-you-so" look.
"...I know. I should have listened to you," Xerxes said, covering his arm again.
Dakeria sighed.
Cecilia had been his fiancée. She was the daughter of the king of a rival kingdom. And conveniently, she was there at the right time to console him. Dakeria had warned him—and was locked up and tortured for it. Twice.
...She noticed his gaze and said, "You could have just let her poison you willingly."
"Are you serious?" Xerxes asked, outraged.
Dakeria remained calm: "You know what I'm capable of. And you've always been willing to do anything to achieve your goal—my power."
"..."
"...Dakeria... I want nothing more than to be with you again... You and me against the rest of the world. Do you remember?"
Of course she did.
She felt a lump in her throat. Damn it.
Her reaction didn't seem to satisfy him.
"—do you still think you're better off with HIM?" Xerxes finally burst out. He looked distraught.
Dakeria looked at him in surprise. How did he even know about that?
"...He said he wants to act alone for now. I respect that," she said simply.
"...That damned soul thief is no good for you."
"You're one to talk."
"..."
Xerxes fell silent. Did he sound... jealous? No. That didn't make sense. And yet there was a small part of her, a tiny spark, that wanted to believe exactly that. A part of her that still... loved him.
No.
She couldn't trust him.
He growled: "Fine. Then test my loyalty."
She knew what he meant...
She should test his soul.
If he tried to deceive the ritual, or if his soul failed, he would die instantly and his soul would have no chance of returning. But if he passed the test...
He had to be very sure of himself. On the other hand—why not?
"As you wish..." Dakeria said. Her eyes glowed green as she performed the ritual.
Xerxes' screams filled the entire fortress.
Meanwhile...
"Man, I'm sick of that chick ordering us around! Who does she think she is?" Stormy grumbled. She stood with the other Trix on a sort of balcony, and the screams coming from the fortress unsettled her. But she tried to hide her worry behind her prickly demeanor.
"You're right. I feel like we're her errand boys!" Darcy agreed.
The three witches sat outside, looking down from the walls at the fog-covered forests.
"Why don't we just leave? We're free, what more do we want?" Stormy asked.
"Because we've come this far thanks to Dakeria's power, you idiots!" Icy hissed. She hated to admit it—but these new powers were incredible. It was pointless to give them up and run away.
"Your friend is right," someone said. Anagan, one of the Wizards of the Black Circle, had approached them unnoticed and was sitting on the parapet, "If you anger her, you'll lose not only your powers but your lives as well."
"What do you know?" Stormy asked.
Anagan smiled and looked into the fog, "You feel it too, don't you? This fog alone drains your life force. And you think you could walk through it?"
Darcy seemed to ponder this and looked at Icy, but she ignored her.
The screams from the fortress gradually subsided. Who had been screaming like that? Were they still alive?
Icy silently agreed with the wizard. Dakeria was too powerful. And besides, she could still be a very useful ally. Her gaze fell on Anagan, who still sat beside her, casually watching her. Why was he even here?
...She didn't know how much time had passed when a raven flew over their heads and elegantly landed on the ground. Duman returned to his original form, "Dakeria wants to see us. Now."
The Trix followed them, even though they weren't included. Icy noticed that Stormy kept glancing at Gantlos and acting like a lovesick teenager—but she said nothing about it. She could tease her about it later.
The other Wizards were already waiting in the entrance hall. It had become deathly quiet.
Finally, a door opened, and Dakeria entered the room, followed by Xerxes, who somehow looked different... stronger... and someone else.
"Yllidith?!"
Indeed. The first fairy hunter, Ogron's predecessor, entered the room.
His time in the prison of Tir Nan Og had obviously not been kind to him. He had bags under his piercing yellow eyes, and his short wine-colored hair was hidden under his hood. He didn't look particularly pleased.
"What is he doing here?" Ogron demanded. He didn't seem particularly happy about the reunion either.
No wonder. Ogron hadn't bothered to free Yllidith. Why would he? With him out of the way, he had taken over as leader.
"I'm simply honoring my agreement with Duman. He serves me if I bring you all back. Which I have done," Dakeria explained monotonously.
"I won't work with this traitor," Yllidith crossed his arms and glared at Ogron.
"I decide that," Dakeria said firmly.
That seemed to unsettle Yllidith: "You? What do you know, you stupid little—"
He fell silent as a dagger floated in the air, stopping just a few millimeters from his throat.
"No one insults my lady," Xerxes said. Murderous intent gleamed in his eyes, and a dark aura surrounded him. He looked much more powerful than before.
"Xerxes. That's enough," Dakeria commanded.
Reluctantly, he withdrew the dagger.
She turned back to the Wizards: "I will test you tomorrow. One of you will lead the Wizards of the Black Circle. And the other," she glanced alternately at Ogron and Yllidith, "will submit."
With these words, she left the room, and Xerxes followed her.
The air was tense.
No one said a word.
The Trix observed the others curiously—and maybe a little maliciously. A fight between the two leaders would certainly be entertaining.
Finally, Ogron left the room.
He needed a strategy to defeat Yllidith. In his earlier years as a wizard, he had tried to challenge him—but without success. Yllidith was a master of illusions.
Hours passed.
It must have been around midnight when he finally went outside to clear his head. But he wasn't alone.
Dakeria herself sat on a wall, looking up at the cloud-covered sky.
"...these black clouds remind me of back then... on the battlefield... black and red... and black snow falling on the corpses of my comrades..." she mused aloud.
Ogron raised an eyebrow: "You fought in a battle?"
Dakeria looked at him now and smiled mysteriously: "Not just one."
He stepped closer and sat next to her. Maybe she would reveal more about this test if he gained her trust.
"...I led Xerxes' troops. We were outnumbered five to one."
"...I'm sorry," Ogron said.
Dakeria gave him a warning look: "You're a good actor. But your false sympathy is misplaced. I led them to victory. Over and over again."
"And how did you manage that?" he asked sullenly.
Dakeria smiled coldly: "Through tactics and skill. I learned about my opponent. Knew his allies, his strengths and weaknesses, every single one of his soldiers, his weapons, how many supplies they had, the morale of his troops—and that of mine. If I know my enemy as well as myself, I need not fear the result of an hundred battles. If I know myself but not my enemy, for every victory gained, I will suffer a defeat. And if I know neither myself nor my enemy, I will succumb in every battle. Take this as advice for your Battle tomorrow."