Archive of Our Own

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“We're taught Lord Acton's axiom: all power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely. I believed that when I started, but I don't believe it's always true any more. Power doesn't always corrupt. Power can cleanse. What I believe is always true about power is that power always reveals.”

-Robert A. Caro
 
1.
Bloom feels it before anyone even knows what’s happened.Avalon is droning on about some philosophical thing Bloom isn’t paying attention to. She isn’t supposed to be in classes with Avalon - not after everything with the fake one years ago - but Faragonda more or less strong-armed her into this one. It’s required for all students, no matter how many times they’ve saved the world. Bloom understands the underlying message - it's been five years since you were taken prisoner by the dimension’s equivalent of Skeletor, time to be a big girl and get over it. Faragonda and Avalon were obviously not on the same page about it, though, because Bloom can sit and doodle in the margin of her notes all class and Avalon doesn’t bat an eye. And he’s had girls stay behind after lectures for chewing gum.It’s there, swirling her pen around her empty notes page that she feels something. Warm tingling, faint as it starts in her chest before traveling up her neck into her limbs. Nothing like a panic attack or physical ailment - something magical. Bloom frowns to herself and tries to place where she’s felt it before, ignoring Avalon’s tapping on the chalkboard.“Now it can be difficult to follow Aristotle’s teachings. I know this is a hard one, ladies. And if I’ve lost you completely, at least have this in your notes - the texts written during Aristotle’s time on Solaria specifically mention magic as something we will refer to as a universal knowledge…”Bloom sighs to herself and does write that down. She follows along for maybe thirty seconds before losing interest, and tries to remember where she’s felt this before. Her hand swirls around the page, making patterns as an afterthought as Avalon continues. “While some of you derive powers from plants or stars or sound, they are all versions of the same type of universal magic. It’s something you can see as well as sense.”No, not new magic. Old.“Consider how you can feel magical presences around you, even if it is not your specific magic. Of course this feeling can be amplified if the magical source is the same, but in this case -”
Familiar magic.
There’s a loud noise that sounds too close, and when Bloom comes back to herself everyone - including Professor Avalon - is staring at her. She’s been screaming.“Bloom?” He sounds genuinely concerned.“I-I-I,” she stammers, trying to bring her mind back to the present. “I’m sorry. B-Bug - spider. It was...crawling across my desk. It bit me, I think.”Avalon looks like he doesn’t know whether or not to believe her. “May I see? If it was that painful...”She hastily shuts her notebook as he comes closer, and has just enough time and sense to spell her own hand. When she holds it up to show him there are two puncture marks around a nasty looking ring of red. The girl in the seat next to her makes a noise like she’s about to be sick. “I’m sorry Professor -”“Gather your things and report to Nurse Ophelia. Have her check to see if any creatures from the greenhouse are missing. I’ll have the rest of the class notes sent to your room.”“Yes, Professor.” Bloom almost trips over her own two feet getting up, and pointedly ignores the giggling from behind her. Her heart is hammering against her ribcage, barely lessening once she’s safely out in the hallway.Her fingers shake as she takes her notebook from her bag and flips through the pages, finally coming to the one she was drawing on.  In its center, between notes on Aristotle and little drawings of lighting bolts, is a stylized V in the center of a circle.Bloom snaps it shut and sprints to her dorm room.  She doesn’t bother going to see nurse Ophelia.Flora pokes her head into Bloom’s room hours later, sighing like a parent who doesn’t quite know what to do with her child. “Still at it?”“You know it. Philosophers make no sense, I swear.”Philosophers don’t make sense, but that isn’t the source of Bloom’s annoyance. She’s been in her room for hours, checking news articles, magic levels on planets and museums with fancy artifacts on display (the Agador Box is currently on loan to a museum on Dolana, running an exhibition about the enemies the Winx have faced over the last eight years. It’s apparently a wonderful show.). She’s only stopped to make herself ramen and grab Avalon’s notes from the girl who dropped them off.No reports are out of the ordinary. Everything in the dimension seems perfectly fine.The feeling in Bloom’s chest hasn’t wavered.Flora ventures into Bloom’s room, taking note of her messy desk and the bottled coffee drinks she’d been downing. She picks up the old analog clock at the edge of her nightstand. “If you’ve got flashcards or something, I could go over them with you.”“I appreciate it, Flo, but I really should do this by myself. You can’t be in the class with me, you know?” Bloom tries to make her reasoning sound believable.Based on the look Flora gives her, she’s doing a poor job. The nature fairy sets the clock down. “How about you call it a night now, and you can look everything over with a clear head in the morning?”“Thanks, but it might just be an all-nighter in here. Good thing we all have singles now, huh?”There’s a tsk sound that means Flora’s not happy with the idea. “Or I make you some dream tea.”“I don’t -”“It’s either that or I force you to go to the library.”Bloom glares at her. It’s the first week of the semester. First-years would be swarming the place for textbooks, even at such a late hour. More than that, they know who Bloom is. She’s been asked for autographs a dozen times in the last five days. The library won’t be safe until next month. Maybe. “You wouldn’t.”All she gets in response is an overly sweet smile. “Lemon and honey?”Relenting, Bloom shuts her laptop. “Yeah, lemon and honey.”Flora nods and heads for the door. “You don’t want to tell me what’s really going on? I ran into that girl who came by earlier. She said you left Avalon’s class early.”Bloom winces, grateful Flora’s back is to her. She should come clean, she really should. The Winx are her best friends, and together the six of them can get a plan of attack before anything bad starts to happen. They have precious little time to work on their own, before Faragonda or her birth parents or any other high-ranking official becomes involved.It’s a bad sign she wants that time for herself. Really, it should have been the first clue.“It’s just Sparx stuff. Official princess business my dad wants me to start learning. A big deal to me, but not to anyone else.”She watches Flora’s posture for clues, and after a moment her friend’s shoulders relax. “Sounds like you’ll need rosemary in it too. Just tell one of us next time, okay sweetie? We were worried.”Bloom sighs. “Yeah, I will. Promise.”
She is seventeen years old, and Headmistress Faragonda wants to see her right away.

Bloom had known this was coming. When final exams were canceled the Alfea student body had been ecstatic. Ecstatic until they learned what they’d be doing instead: giving individual interviews to the Council regarding the Trix, their Army of Decay, and the battle of Magix. Most viewed it as a fair trade-off. After all, detailing a fight wasn’t nearly as difficult as balancing potion equations or performing a morphing spell in front of the class.

And so long as you weren't one of the Winx girls, you were in and out in twenty minutes.

Musa had hyped everyone up, saying the interview would be fast and easy, only to come back two hours later looking completely drained. And hers had been on the shorter end compared to Flora and Tecna. Stella, with the added bonus of finding Bloom on Earth (both times), had been gone the entire afternoon.

It’s why Bloom brings her water bottle - she knows this is going to be a very long, very awkward afternoon recounting her first year in the dimension to a group of strangers.

The lobby of Faragonda’s office is empty when she arrives, the double-doors inside slightly ajar. Bloom heads straight for them, ready to get things started (and therefore over) as quickly as possible.

“And you will be keeping an eye on her from this point on?”

The voice makes her pause. Bloom doesn’t recognize it, which means it’s one of the interviewers from the Council. It makes sense, too - it sounds wary. A person who’s lived for too long and seen too much. Bloom feels a bit like that, herself.
Faragonda replies, her voice as clear and tinkling as a bell: “We keep a close watch on all of our students, sir. Bloom is no exception. Her records are a bit more...detailed, ever since we deduced she wielded the power of the Dragon Fire -”
“That isn’t what I mean,” a second voice cuts her off. “These witches were powered by Wisperian Crystals. Artifacts descended from the Ancestresses themselves. For a first year fairy to win such a battle -”

“A fairy who up until ten months ago had no formal training.” A third voice adds.

“Precisely. That sort of power must be monitored closely.”
Bloom raises an eyebrow, subconsciously glancing down at her fingertips. A guilty feeling begins bubbling up in her chest, though she isn’t sure why. None of the teachers at Alfea have ever made her feel as if her academic progress was wrong. Even the intimidating Headmistress Griffin had stopped to give Bloom a nod of approval as the witches marched back to Cloud Tower (which, according to Mirta, was a big deal). How could faceless voices she didn’t know inspire the opposite reaction?
“Bloom is a sweet, caring girl,” Faragonda sounds firm, and it makes Bloom smile. “You’ll see that when she arrives. She will give you no reason to doubt her intentions.”

“And those are?”
“To be a fairy. To learn about where she comes from, what Sparx was like before the war, to make friends and fall in love. Be a teenager. Surely you can understand that.”
“Perhaps,” the first voice concedes after several beats of silence. “But we would still like bi-annual reports on the progression of her magic. And her disciplinary records, to make sure she’s staying on the correct path.”

Bloom steps away from the door and straightens her posture, determined to walk in the room with her head held high and prove a bunch of old magic wielders wrong.

She almost misses Faragonda’s reply as she raps on the door to appear as though she’s just arrived. “With me to guide her, we won’t have any issues.”
She’s groggy enough when she wakes to know time has passed, but the view from her window still carries darkness associated with the middle of the night. Her laptop has gone to sleep, and the hallway light that sometimes shines under her bedroom door is off.It’s probably why it takes her a moment to realize a hand is covering her mouth.A hand and a weight on her bed that wasn’t there when she’d laid down.  Panic rises in her chest, and she reaches out to grab hold of the someone or something so she can shove them (or it) off.Something illuminates the area around her. The light is small and flickering, but just bright enough to make out the upper portion of a face.Ice blue eyes are staring at her.There is no moon out. In the dimness, those eyes are all she sees. Warm breath whispers across her cheeks.“Hello, Bloom.”The hand on her mouth slips away. She doesn’t scream.  The clock on her nightstand ticks. One second, then another, and another. On the fourth she feels lips slide across her own, soft and warm. They coax her, and before she thinks better of it Bloom opens her mouth, letting someone’s tongue slide inside and meet her own. The bed shifts underneath her, and that weight - the weight of a person - moves and settles between her legs.She wants to say something. She should say something, but there are no words she can think of in the languages she knows (a whole one and a half) to describe the fear and longing and shock and anger. In the end all she gets out is a soft moan in between breaths. Everything feels warm suddenly, almost too warm, and Bloom can’t admit to herself how much she’s missed that feeling.Somewhere outside her room, there’s audible laughter from a group of girls.Bloom jerks away, her lip catching on those stupidly perfect teeth. No one’s there, of course, three stories up floating at her open window, but rather down in the quad. Moments later a deeper voice is yelling - Griselda, sounding very annoyed at fairies breaking curfew.There’s a breathy laugh, and she feels those lips press at the corner of her mouth. “I missed you, too.”There’s no mistaking the voice, the arrogance of it, and Bloom pushes him off her in disgust.By the time she turns her bedside light on, she’s alone.She reaches up and touches her lips, still tingling. Then she scoffs and gets up to go check on news from the realm-wide web.It’s the second kiss he’s ever stolen from her.Four days later, Twinkly falls out of the sky. 
2.
She has to pretend to be shocked on Lumenia when Baltor’s insignia bursts from the piles of rubble. Though, based on half her friend’s reactions, she probably could have stood still, not saying or doing anything and appeared perfectly in character.Aisha leaves immediately, heading for the surface, for sunlight and color to remind herself she can still see it. Timmy, attempting to collect gears and wires from the machine that launched rockets at them, ends up throwing everything deeper into the chasm in a fit of rage before following Aisha. Nex, the only one of them who was deemed a civilian back when everything happened, starts asking for someone, anyone to explain what the hell is going on.Stella hugs Bloom, whispering to her when no one else can hear: “This is not your fault.”Helia calls Saladin, looking like he’s about to be sick.The realms almost instantly descend into panic. Every military goes on high alert. Cloud Tower imposes a mandatory curfew for all students and staff. Andros shuts its borders for everyone except high-ranking military and the royal family. Bloom’s birth family is summoned to Magix to speak with the Council.WizGiz, Griselda, and the rest of the Alfea staff hole up in Faragonda’s office for an afternoon, debating whether or not to turn the protection barrier back on. Bloom doesn’t bother telling them it doesn’t matter, Baltor’s already been here and will return whenever he feels like it, barrier or no barrier.Bloom isn’t scared by that. She doesn’t know why.It becomes apparent, however, that Baltor isn’t up to his usual tricks. Military forces surround spell vaults no one comes to pilfer. Armies twiddle their thumbs waiting to fight a ghost that never shows up. Besides the dark fledglings and the rat-like thing that called itself Obscurum, nothing’s out of the ordinary."This doesn’t make sense,” Tecna growls, slamming down a datapad. “None of these movements are like before.”“It’s true,” Musa chimes in, though she’s been doing everything to steer conversations away from Riven’s return. “Baltor had no problem showing his face last time we fought him. Now he’s sending some little imp to do his bidding. Are we even sure it's him?”The conversation stalls, and when Bloom looks from her nails she’s met with curious gazes from her five best friends. “...What?”“C’mon, B.” Stella flops back against the couch. “You two always had that connection thing-y.”“A link through the Dragon Fire, and it didn’t start until after I got my Enchantix.”“Whatever. Point is you would know if Real Baltor had a miraculous resurrection. So did he?”Everyone stares expectantly. Bloom’s lips burn. “It’s…I - yeah. It’s actually him. I feel his presence. Distantly,” she rushes to add.Stella’s lips purse in distaste. “Darn. Well, never mind.”“What about his new plans?” Tecna twirls a finger to retrieve her datapad. “Baltor hasn’t gone after planetary treasures or powerful spells. Just a few stars' cosmic energy. Any idea, Bloom?”Baltor’s obsession with being known had been documented back to the early days of the war on Sparx. The change doesn’t make sense, but then again, neither did him showing up in Bloom’s bed. She props her head up on her hand, partially to hide her blush. “How should I know? The Dragon Fire isn’t a phone line.”“And it’s not like he'd spill if we asked,” Musa sighs, leaning over Tecna’s shoulder to study the data. “It just means we have to answer the bigger question.”Bloom raises an eyebrow. “...What’s that?”“What’s making him use cosmic energy?”“Or who.” Aisha adds grimly.That, for some reason, makes Bloom shiver.
She is twenty years old, and Nabu is dead.

Nabu is dead, Aisha is gone, the fairies of Tir Nan Og are in disarray, and Bloom, the Winx, and the surviving Specialists are on a beach. The full moon is near the horizon, giving way to the first day of a world without their friend. It’s surreal; they’d known Nabu for the shortest amount of time, but the space he’s left behind is unquantifiable. They need a plan of attack, but no one moves.

Musa, who’s spent the last hour trying Aisha’s cell phone, throws her own down with something between a grunt and a cry. “Nothing. She won’t answer.”

”She’s safe with the fairies in the castle.”

“Yeah Flora, they’re holding hands and making friendship bracelets while they debate murder strategies for Ogron and the human race.”

The response is biting. Bloom raises her head to say something, but sees Brandon giving her a stern look instead. Musa bites her lip, obviously embarassed, and reaches out to take the nature fairy’s hand. “Sorry.”

Flora squeezes back, but takes her hand away.

“Well one thing’s for sure,” Sky stands, stretching his arms above his head. “The longer we leave Aisha with Nebula, the more likely they are to do something stupid. We should head back to the castle and see if we can talk with her. We can leave when the sun’s up.”

There are murmurs of agreement, and people start rummaging in backpacks for food or laying down for a few hours of restless sleep. Musa, Flora, and Brandon head to the other end of the clearing to hash out their argument, and Sky goes down to the beach.

It starts, as their fights often do, with Riven making a snide remark.

“Who was dumb enough to believe Ogron would give up his power in the first place?”

Bloom, swallowing the last of a granola bar, looks over at him. He’s staring into the dying fire, his own breakfast bar unopened in his hand. His voice is quiet enough that he could have been talking to himself. A few others give half smiles or a single chuckle, obviously not taking the crack at face value. Bloom shouldn’t have either; they were all tired and dirty and aware their day was far from over when it hadn’t even begun.

But she does. “I was.”

Riven looks up, momentarily surprised. “I was the one dumb enough to believe Ogron wanted to stop fighting and make amends.” Bloom continues, balling up her wrapper in her hand. “Thanks for reminding me.”

Surprise melts away to an indignant glare. “Well, who could’ve seen that coming?”

“Excuse me?”

“Guys.” Timmy tries to intervene, to no avail.

“Come on, Bloom, don’t give me that. You know what I mean.”

“I really don’t.”

He shakes his head and stands up. “Forget it.”

Bloom stands, too. "If you have a problem with me -"

“Guys this really isn’t the time -"

“That’s never stopped Riven before.”

It’s true, if a bit of a low blow. It’s been so long Bloom’s almost forgotten this is how she and Riven used to be: snarky, pushing buttons because they couldn’t stand each other. They’d come a long way over the last four years, but lack of sleep and death made old habits routine again.

Riven’s eyes narrow at her. “Fine. I’m mad for the same reason Aisha is. You made a bad call. And I’m mad no one talked you out of it because you always do this.”
“Do what? Try to give the benefit of the doubt? The Wizards showed up and didn’t attack us. We had no reason to believe -”“But you did! They almost threw Sky off a train! They kidnapped Klaus, kidnapped Roxy, tried to kidnap you, and you ignored all of that.” Riven sounds angry, but there’s a sadness that ebbs into his tone. A desperation to understand. “Why? Why would you believe them?”It’s so raw Bloom’s caught off guard. “Because…everyone deserves the chance to be better. Because we’ve given that chance to people and they’ve taken it. Lucy, Amentia, Shilly, even you. I didn’t want to turn my back on people who seemed remorseful.”
“Were they remorseful or did a long haired thirty-something guy bat his eyes at you again?”

Bloom’s jaw drops.

“That’s enough, Riven,” Helia says warningly. He’s suddenly behind the redhead specialist, a hand on his shoulder. “We’re all exhausted.”

“You’re crazy,” she manages to say, partially because she’s too stunned to say anything else.

Riven throws his hands up in exasperation. “No Bloom, I’m not. First Avalon, then Baltor, now Ogron. You think we don’t see a pattern?”

The shock ignites into anger. “Screw you! There is no pattern!”

Instead of responding he raises an eyebrow. In the silence Bloom waits for someone to jump in and tell Riven he’s wrong or hungry or taking out his anger over Nabu on her instead of processing it like a normal person. Her only defenders are the popping campfire and distant crashing of the waves.

“There’s no pattern,” Bloom repeats, looking around at her friends. Those nearby purposely avert their gazes. The fire in her chest freezes as suddenly as it came on. “Guys.”

Stella cracks, because she’s the oldest Winx with Aisha gone and Bloom’s most vehement defender. “Avalon was different,” she begins, and Bloom’s eyes must widen to the size of dinner plates because she rushes to add. “Darkar sent him to corrupt you and make us distrust each other. We thought he was a friend, and we were wrong. That was on us.”

“It was on Faragonda,” Tecna mutters, a vote of confidence but a distant one.

“What I think Riven means,” Stella continues, turning a critical eye to the Specialist in question. “Is that sometimes you face these guys head on. By yourself. And it worries us.”

“Because I want to fuck them?” Bloom doesn’t mean to sound so bitter, but that’s how it comes out and Riven flinches in a way that’s deliciously satisfying.

“No. Because they’ve tried manipulating you - all of us really. And it’s worked to varying degrees. But that doesn’t matter because we made the decision to help the wizards as a group. I found Sibylla in the Book of Fairies and suggested going to her for help. Does that mean Ogron batted his eyes at me too, Riv?”

He has the grace to look ashamed. “I…didn’t know.”
“Because you didn’t ask. We’re a team. All twelve of -” Stella stops herself, looking momentarily sick before slipping back into her usual demeanor. “All of us. There’s only one single person at fault for Nabu’s death, and it’s Ogron. So cut the melodramatics before I tell Musa I bought your anniversary present.”
The decisive tone isn’t overlooked. People go back to eating, settling into the sand for a nap, or talking quietly to one or two others. Helia whispers something to Riven, who nods before heading towards a walking path on the far side of the clearing. He doesn’t apologize at the moment, but Bloom knows he will when he isn’t mortified. Maybe he’ll even do it without prodding.

Bloom doesn’t get the luxury of hiding her embarrassment behind anger: it’s too unlike her. She looks back at Stella. Her hat is pulled over her eyes, but her shoulders are too straight to be asleep. “…Do you all think that?”

Stella snorts. “That you forced us to help Ogron? Please.”

“You know what I mean.”

The reply isn’t as fast. Stella’s manicured nails drum against her leg. “You scare us sometimes. That’s all. Like going after Baltor in the Magix Museum. We fight dangerous people now - really dangerous people. We don’t want you to get hurt.”

Bloom freezes at the mention of the museum, momentarily grateful Stella can’t see her face. “I…okay.”

“Get some rest, hon. We can hash it out tomorrow.”

She nods, sinking into the sand. Bloom lays on her back and gazes up at the stars until they fade and the sky turns pink, then orange, then blue. She doesn’t sleep.
Tecna’s right, of course. Siphoning cosmic energy doesn’t fit Baltor’s MO, but it’s all they have to go on. Griselda tells them things are handled when they go to speak to Faragonda, but Bloom knows they’re the ones who are expected to handle it. It’s confirmed when the headmistress returns Tecna’s barrier buster from their third year, and tells them any absences from class will be excused.With Twinkly’s map of known stars and Stella’s expertise, they determine Baltor’s next target. The ship Peripla - Solarian built, designed as a beacon for traveling spacecraft, and run on an engine made of pure starlight.They leave before Bloom’s due back in Avalon’s class.It takes two hours from their arrival for things to go completely batshit. Obscurum and a new army of dark star eaters are on the ship, heading for the engine bay and starlight core. They’ve started draining it by the time the Winx figure out what’s happening. Musa and Aisha take point on fighting Obscurum, while Stella and Flora lead the evacuation of the lumens (since it turns out the star eaters could create new star eaters out of lumens). Tecna stays with the ship’s captain to keep the necessary life support on for as long as possible, should the worst happen.They leave Bloom in the wheelhouse, which is nothing more than said wheel, several screens, and a communication system for the ship. She had been keeping a line open with the Specialists, who showed up maybe an hour after the Winx did. They’d been sent to look for (apparently) another entity attempting to steal the core, which for some reason Sky hadn’t informed Bloom of when they’d spoken that morning. But the Specialists were dealing with a different problem at the moment. Namely, a black hole. Far enough away to not endanger Peripla, but close enough to engulf the Red Fountain Owl. She has a front row seat to watch her friends and boyfriend get swallowed into nothingness.Those were the theatrics she’d been used to as a teenager.In a last ditch attempt to get help from someone, Bloom puts on a headset and turns the intercom to the emergency broadcast channel.“Mayday, Peripla Proper. Is anyone on this frequency?”No one answers her, which isn’t a surprise. They’re almost a million miles from the nearest planet, and no one else is on radar. The emergency signal is boosted with magic, but it will take several minutes to reach anyone so far away.Bloom still tries. “This is Princess Bloom of Sparx, calling for assistance from any nearby spacecraft. Mayday, I repeat, mayday. Can anyone hear me?The ship lurches. Somewhere down the hall, tiny voices start yelling, followed by a metal groan and the sound of a spell firing off. Flora’s voice, calm but firm, yells out instructions about evacuation routes. Bloom glances from the door to the monitor, showing the Owl drifting closer and closer to the black hole.Bloom waits until the voices fade before pressing the button a third time. “…Baltor, are you there?”There isn’t a response, only space static. She almost gives up then, and moves to take the headset off.A deep voice cuts through the noise. “My dear Bloom.”A voice she’d know anywhere. She’d talked herself in and out of believing what happened in her room last month but this is an unmistakable reality. His voice, clear as day for the first time in years. She presses the headset back to her ears and cranks the volume up, scared to miss a single breath.“Calling for a rescue, are we?” Baltor sounds bored, but there’s a cutting edge to his words Bloom recognizes. He’s pleased. “I’m not surprised. That little dingy of a ship shouldn’t be in deep space all alone. Not when people are looking to steal its engine.”The melodramatics snap Bloom back into reality. “I suppose we have you to thank for that.”“Well I can’t take all the credit. I hear you’ve met Obscurum.”“The half-rat that won’t stop muttering about how great he is?” Bloom spares a moment of her thoughts for the creature. She doesn’t know what he used to be - the darkness has too great a hold on him. Once upon a time she would’ve pitied it. “Yeah, I’ve had the pleasure. Is he a minion or a pet?”There’s a polite chuckle. “Little of both, if we’re being honest.”She scans the radar - no new ships. It means Baltor’s been keeping an eye on things from a distance. “And the black hole that didn’t exist ten minutes ago, pulling the Specialist’s ship in?”“I like to have backup plans.”“It’s been five years. I was hoping you’d gotten a new hobby.”Baltor’s tone is amused. “So you’ve been counting? Be still my heart.”Trading barbs is more difficult than Bloom remembers. She changes topics instead, hoping to catch him off guard. “Any particular reason you’re trying to kill my boyfriend?”“I like watching you squirm.”
You clever little minx.
Bloom freezes. Her back is suddenly cold. Phantom dust from pummeled stone pillars tickles her nose.  “I-I…”“And speaking of squirming,” he carries on as if she’s said nothing. “I’d be concerned at how close that Red Fountain ship is getting to said black hole. It’d be a shame for all that technology to be flattened into a single atom.”She shakes her head in a feeble attempt to think straight. “You could always cut off the black hole’s power and let them go.”“I could…but what would I get in return?”The implication isn’t lost on her. “I am not making deals with you.”“Anymore.”“This isn’t a game, Baltor!” She snaps, pounding her fist onto the control panel before she can think better of it. “Let them go.”“Is that any way to ask for help? Have Oritel and Miriam taught you anything about decorum?”Red swims at the edges of her vision. “How dare you, you selfish prick -”“Do not lecture me about being selfish.” Baltor’s voice booms in her ears, devoid of its previous sarcasm. “Not when we both know the things you’ve done. Forget willing yourself into Enchantix. Forget being desperate enough for information you played into Lord Darkar’s hand, throwing training and common sense out the window.”“How did you -”“Forget the desire to be seen as a hero or a perfect daughter or prodigy fairy. What about things that aren’t public knowledge? The selfish things you’ve done that no one knows about? What would the rest of the Winx say about them? Your precious headmistress? Or your sweet little prince?“I know what I am,” he continues, anger ebbing from his voice. “I don’t pretend to be anything else. I know better. And so do you. So, how about instead of wasting our time throwing stones at glass houses, you swallow that pride, be a good girl, and say please?”Her shoulders are shaking, tears stinging the backs of her eyes from embarrassment and shame. She looks towards the wheelhouse door to make sure no one’s come in and seen her, and instantly hates herself for it. “...Please. Please let them go.”Silence rings in her ears. Nothing happens. Out in space the Owl’s engines flare in a desperate attempt to pull away from certain doom. It doesn’t seem to make a difference. “Baltor?” Bloom asks, ignoring the strain in her voice. She can’t tell if there’s breath in between the static. “Please, I’m sorry, okay? Please don’t hurt them -”Something starts beeping on the console, so sudden and loud it makes Bloom jump. She turns in time to see the black hole’s power rating weaken. On the screen, the ship’s boosters pulsate with energy as it, finally, starts to break away from the gravitational pull. Bloom can only stare in mute shock.“There now, was that so hard?”His voice is velvet on her skin. Bloom wants to suffocate herself with it, then maybe him. “It’s been wonderful catching up, Bloom, but I believe you have some heroic deeds to get back to.”“How long are you going to hide?” She tries not to focus on how uneven her voice sounds, or how suddenly the associated feelings come on.There’s a pause. It goes on for so long Bloom almost thinks he’s left again. Then:“I didn’t realize you missed me so much. I’ll have to remedy that.”The worrying, Red-Fountain-mission-worthy entity trying to steal Peripla’s engine turns out to be a brainiac teenager who’s lost his homeworld to Baltor’s cosmic draining. Orion’s a bit annoying, but very resourceful and bright.Bright, until he admits to making a deal with Baltor. One revived planet for the death of Winx. He’s lucky they’re more resourceful than he is.“You’re going to have to talk to the authorities.” Aisha says as he navigates the ship back towards Magix’s star system. “Baltor’s been untraceable so far. When he communicated with you he might have left a clue.”Orion nods sadly. “I guess so. He wasn’t here physically, though.”“Better to be safe than sorry.”“Yeah. Hey, about Baltor. Is he always so…”Bloom raises an eyebrow. “So what?”Orion gives her an odd look. Bloom can’t decipher it before it’s gone, the young boy shaking his head. “Never mind.”He doesn’t mention Baltor again on the flight. But he does slip Bloom a piece of paper when they disembark his ship. She opens it later in her room, while the girls are in the commons talking about Flora and Stella’s displays of teamwork.It’s a string of numbers in very neat, swirling handwriting. The sevens have little lines through them that Bloom always equates to old documents.She has no idea how to decipher it until two days later, when that prickling sensation comes back as she’s tossing and turning. Bloom sits straight up in bed, eyes wide, and realizes something important.Baltor can be a bit of a brainiac, too, when it suits him.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

3.
The funny thing about barriers were that they made people look for trouble in the wrong places. Since Alfea’s had gone back up, teachers and high level students took turns patrolling at night, combing the underbrush for weak points someone could slip through. People do - middle-year girls, mostly, trying to break curfew and sneak into the woods for midnight rendezvous. Their eyes are on the forest beyond the school, looking out for crunching twigs and things that go bump in the night.Always outside. Never inside.Bloom follows the itching in her chest like a homing beacon. It leads her from the dorms to the staircase to the main academic hall where classes are held. She doesn’t run into a single person, but sees several light spells in the window from groups of fairies outside. At one point she swears she hears WizGiz and Palladium talking. But inside the air is still, lights just bright enough to navigate without a spell or flashlight.Her destination is clear before she reaches it; an innocuous, seemingly dead-end hallway with a large painting in Alfea’s northern tower. Bloom reaches out for an invisible handle and opens the door to the Magic Archive, a place she hasn’t set foot in since she was a teenager.Baltor is at the far side of the circular room, scanning shelves of books while one floats open near his head. Bloom hasn’t seen him since his reappearance, not really. He hasn’t changed. Same hair, same boots, same long jacket.  When he turns to look at her there’s an approving smile on his (unchanged) face that makes her knees momentarily weak. “You deciphered my note.”“The library catalog system for antique books. Be still my heart.”The smile widens, and he turns back to the shelves. “I didn’t think you’d be fond of a paper trail. Or an obvious one.”“I’d be more fond of you leaving.” She crosses her arms and scans the tower for its guardian pixie. But Concorda is nowhere to be seen. “Without any of the school’s books. Or the Codex.”“Please, if I wanted to take the Codex I would have gone to you for advice.” When he turns around there’s a long scroll in his hand. “That’s not why I’m here.”“Planning to sexually assault me again?”Bloom isn’t sure what she expects - at least to surprise him. Instead Baltor quirks an eyebrow before dissolving into a full fit of laughter. He grips the lip of a shelf to keep from doubling over. “I think it has to be unwanted to be assault, sweetheart.”“It was unwanted.”He doesn’t dignify her with a response. Instead he goes to a long table on one side of the room. Bloom notices there are several other scrolls spread out on the table. “If you’re going to lie, you may as well do something useful. Grab the map of the Third Upper Ring and bring it over.”It would be idiotic to listen to him. So of course Bloom does, crossing the room to pick up another long, bound scroll. She takes note of the papers already spread along the table as she approaches. They’re maps, mostly, along with some information on stars, an old portable sundial from Solaria, and - curiously - a small covered book of what looks to be children’s fairytales.Baltor takes it without a word and unrolls it on top of several others. Bloom watches him scan it and adjust wheels on the sundial. It whirls and spits out some sort of date Baltor copies into a book. The handwriting matches the note Orion gave her. He doesn’t try to fight her or leave with any of the scrolls. A strange feeling comes over her; partially calm, still a bit cautious. Bloom watches him work for several minutes before picking up the book of fairytales, flipping to the dog-eared passage. It’s old based on writing style alone, telling the story of a young witch who wanted to be a fairy and earned her wings by wishing upon a star.She looks back at Baltor when she’s done. “As far as collections go, this is a pretty weird one you have laid out.”He responds with a light hum. “The only weird thing is Faragonda having such detailed maps. Solaria’s were on par, but they lacked navigation tables.”“You’ve been to Solaria?”Bloom tries to hide her surprise, but fails. Baltor’s grin is dripping with malice. “I’ve been to a few places. It’s hardly my fault security isn’t up to snuff. People may talk a big game, Bloom, but they haven’t adapted.”Certainly not, if these are the kinds of things Baltor’s looking for. Plenty of Alfea’s books had tracking spells in case they were lost, but not the maps. And it didn’t even matter if they weren’t taken from the archive in the first place. The same could be said for other planets with large spell collections.People were too busy guarding the door to look inside the room.“Why come here, then?” Bloom asks. “If Solaria had what you wanted there wasn’t a point.”“Oh, there was a point.”She rolls her eyes at the implication. “You broke into Alfea and risked being seen by countless enemies because you missed me?”In an instant a hand sneaks around her waist and pulls her to him. “I yearned for you,” Baltor murmurs, leaning into her space and brushing his lips along her cheek. “And I can multitask.”Bloom doesn’t know how to respond to that. She tries pulling back, but Baltor’s arm is firm. Maybe she doesn’t fight hard enough - she didn’t last time she set foot in these archives. There’s no telling what’s at stake now.“I didn’t tell you to come here.” he continues, and, seemingly sensing Bloom’s retort before she can voice it, presses a finger to her lips. “You could have ignored that little note. You could have run and gotten Faragonda before making your way here. Or the Winx. But here you are, alone. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t pleased.”Heat rises in her cheeks. The finger doesn’t move. His other hand grips the flesh of her hip, not enough to hurt but certainly enough to be felt. “Still unwanted?” Baltor questions, his voice lithe and his eyes shining.She wants to bite his finger and tear the smirk from his face. The only thing that stops her is the realization Baltor would probably like it.“Why would you come all the way to Alfea for fairytales?” Bloom replies instead, ignoring the soft skin against her lips.Because Baltor can find navigation tables on a dozen planets with far less security. That leaves the book. Alfea’s collection of children’s fables is small, but easily the oldest and most well-known.As quickly as Baltor wraps himself around her, he pulls away. The sudden cold is jarring, but worth it when Bloom sees his smirk twitch. “Perceptive as ever, I see.”“Ms. Faragonda’s taught me well.”His eyes narrow after another direct hit. “You shouldn’t give that old bird credit for your talents. Not when she keeps you in a cage.”“She would never -”“Don’t,” Baltor cuts her off, voice reminiscent of when he lost his temper on Peripla. “You’re unbecoming when you lie.”Bloom hears her own mouth snap closed and hates herself for it. “...You didn’t answer my question.”It’s a weak retort, but for whatever reason Baltor doesn’t call her on it. His smirk relaxes, and Bloom doesn’t have time to consider why before he’s speaking. “Alfea’s collection has many draws, one being it’s detailed description of the Wishing Star. Translations muddle things: I needed original texts."It’s not the answer she’s expecting. “A…Wishing Star?”Baltor raises an eyebrow, shifting to lean back against the table. It’s for show, especially when he tilts his head and puts his slender neck on display. “When the Great Dragon was created, glints of Its fire in turn created powerful beings and objects. One of them was the Dragon Flame. Another was the Wishing Star. It roams various dimensions, granting the desires of those who catch it. It returns once every millennium, and the clock is almost up.”Everything about the story sounds fantastical - even for the Magic Dimension. “You can’t seriously believe in something like that.”The laugh Baltor gives sounds genuinely amused. “My dear, haven’t you learned by this point to stop underestimating me?”He waves his hand with a flourish, and the scrolls on the table levitate, rolling back up and moving to their original places on the shelves. Baltor plucks a smaller one out of the air before it can re-wrap itself, scanning its contents. Seemingly satisfied, he rips the bottom corner off.Bloom watches him use it as a bookmark for the passage in the children’s book she’d been reading from earlier. Then, to her surprise, he holds it out to her. “Keep a hold of this for me. I may need to consult it again, and I’m sure Faragonda will prefer it in your hands over mine.”Cautiously, she takes the book back. “And you think I won’t put it back because…”The predatory grin she gets in response makes her shiver. “Because you need to know if I’m right.”There’s a loud clap of displaced air, and suddenly Bloom is standing alone in the archive.She recognizes the map. It corresponds to an asteroid belt, the very one that separates Omega from any inhabited star system. There’s an X drawn on it, in a section Bloom remembers Sky maneuvering around when they went to rescue Tecna and the others. He’d said it was too dense for normal ships to fly through. On the back are coordinates with little lines through the sevens.By the time she gets back to her room, Bloom realizes she can’t tell anyone about it. Not without revealing how she knows.It would drive her nuts if she didn’t spend the next several days thinking about the Wishing Star. Theories rush unfiltered through her head from breakfast to bed. Normally Bloom would have turned to the girls (or even Sky) to bounce ideas off of. But it’s the same issue as the map. Things have already gone too far. Bloom is unwilling to explain just how much she’s seen of Baltor in the last month or why she hasn’t told anyone. It wasn’t as if she’d kept it secret on purpose. But that’s a pathetic excuse, and she knows it. It’s all so draining. She needs a break.Luckily, so does everyone else.“So what’s the story with you two?”Bloom gives Nex a sidelong glance as she sips her drink. It’s been a long few weeks of fighting and attempted murder, which means a weekend of clubs and drinking. Everyone’s come out to the party, which is in its fifth hour with no signs of slowing down. She and Nex are the only two left at the table, with others out on the dance floor (Aisha), hitting up the DJ in hopes of doing an impromptu set (Musa), or making out in a back corner (Stella and Brandon).Nex isn’t used to people trying to kill him on a regular basis yet. It’s probably a good thing, but it means he’s less interested in festivities and more interested in asking questions.“The story with who two?”“You and Baltor.”The nonchalance of his voice seems forced, making Bloom pause before fear can even register in her mind. “Aisha hasn’t told you?”“Aisha’s told me plenty.” Nex takes a long pull from his beer and settles back in the leather booth. In the lowlight Bloom can’t quite pin down his expression. “So have the guys. Same planet, same magic, year of fighting, yada yada. But I think they’re missing some key details.”“Key details like what?”“Asking to say please? ”Bloom bites her tongue to keep from swearing. She’d been wondering if anyone on the Owl got the transmission. “…You heard all of that?”“I turned it off after that. I picked it up when you asked about the fledgling being a pet.” Bloom sighs in relief. Nex seems to take it as resignation instead, and waggles his half-drunk beer in her direction. “For some grandiose villain wanting to destroy the entire universe, he sure pays special attention to you.”“Pretty sure it comes with the same yada yada magic thing.” “C’mon, Bloom. You’re the first of the Winx he singled out. Nobody else fought him one-on-one. No one’s boyfriend got put under a love spell.”“Because none of them had a crazy ex-fiancé.”Nex ignores her. “Baltor’s been operating in the shadows since he came back. No one’s seen or heard from him. But the minute you talk he answers. It’s like he was waiting for you.”He probably was, but Bloom knows admitting it is a bad idea. ”It would have been the same if any of the other girls tried. Maybe even Sky. He’s not exactly our biggest fan.”“It just seemed…personal.”“He’s an asshole, Nex. I don’t know what you want from me.”“But if -”“You’re drunk.” Bloom snaps, because he is. The third year of attempted murder from bad guys is when the drinking really picks up. Bloom remembers it well. Nex is helpful when it comes to fighting monsters and piloting ships. He’s Aisha’s boyfriend - long-term boyfriend at this point. He’s the guys’ friend. But he hasn’t reached friendship status with any of the girls yet ( maybe Musa if they’re both having good days). Certainly not Bloom.And he’s pushing too hard.Nex knows, based on the look he gives Bloom. It lasts for several seconds before he sighs and turns his attention to the dance floor. “Okay.”“There’s nothing personal, there’s no secret story. We foiled his plans last time around and he’s mad about it. That’s it.”“…That’s not what people are saying.”She gives an exasperated sigh. ”What people?”“Tabloids. Online forums. People at RF.”“If I had a nickel for every inappropriate thing a Red Fountain boy said about me, I could buy this whole club a round of drinks.” Bloom’s pushing back harder than Nex did, she knows. And one way or another it’ll make its way to everyone else in the group. But at the moment she can’t find it in herself to care.“Probably,” he concedes, draining the last of his beer. “But what about Red Fountain boys and the head of the dragon riding department?”The noise of the club is suddenly very far. “Teachers are saying it?”Nex shrugs, standing and stretching his arms above his head. “I’m getting another round. Are you coming?”“Pass.” Bloom says, and Nex leaves her at the table, alone and sulking.
She is eighteen years old, and the Magic Council questions her about Lord Darkar and Avalon until she cries. They want to know every conversation, every insecurity she shared, why she was foolish enough to hold the fake Professor Avalon in such high regard, how she was tied down in Darkar’s throne room, every place his talons touched her -

Miss Faragonda isn’t there. She tells Bloom she’ll be busy discussing matters with the real Avalon. She says compared to what she’s already been through this year, it will be a walk in the park, but it’s so much worse. It’s embarrassing and degrading and obvious they don’t believe a word she says.

They stop after three hours when Bloom teeters on the edge of a panic attack. The Council says they’ll be back tomorrow to continue their questioning. They seem annoyed, but it’s nothing compared to the rage on Stella’s face when she meets Bloom outside Faragonda’s office. She contains it long enough to walk Bloom back to the dorm and get Aisha. Then the two princesses of living planets disappear into Stella’s suite. The yelling is indecipherable.

Bloom doesn’t know what favors they call in, but the Council doesn’t come back to Alfea. Everyone takes their finals.

Bloom does her best to forget.
“Well, isn’t this a welcome surprise!”Bloom glances up from the pages of her book. “Hey, Ms. F. What are you doing here?”When Alfea’s headmistress makes her rounds, the library usually isn’t included. Bloom’s more accustomed to seeing her in the quad or the hallway near her office. “I had some papers to bring to Miss Barbatea,” Faragonda gives Bloom a warm smile. “And I’m so glad I did, otherwise I would have missed my favorite students picking up my favorite subject.”  She blushes, looking at the books of fairytales scattered around the table. “Yeah,” Bloom says, using her little finger to shove the map corner under her notebook. It had been stupid to bring it, but she hasn’t gotten around to putting it somewhere safe. “I’m doing some research that involves them.”“I see. I didn’t know you were taking any literature courses this semester.”“It’s, ah…more of a personal project.”Faragonda beams at her. “Wonderful! Any particular story? Perhaps I can make some recommendations.”Bloom grips her own leg under the table to keep it from bouncing. She takes a deep breath and tries to appear nonchalant. “Actually, that’d be helpful. I’m looking for information on the Wishing Star.”The older woman’s eyebrows rise an almost imperceptible amount. A freshman fairy wouldn’t be able to tell what Bloom can: she’s surprised her headmistress. “The Wishing Star…I’m afraid it’s more of a character or plot point than a story. There really isn’t one specific tale I can guide you to.”Despite her apprehension, the news is still depressing. “So I’m noticing.”Faragonda comes around the table, eyes scanning over Bloom’s reading material. “It looks like you have a good assortment of stories here that mention it. What’s your interest, if I may ask?”Bloom is normally bad at lying, especially to Ms. Faragonda. The woman has been such a positive mentor to Bloom; patient and kind when everything seemed overwhelming.A laugh cuts through the library’s peace, and Bloom turns to see Palladium slapping a hand over his mouth, trying to keep quiet. Avalon is next to him, a smirk on his face suggesting he’s the reason for the outburst. He notices the eyes on them and holds a hand up in a silent apology.His eyes scan the room, and when they land on Bloom he offers a polite smile. It makes something bitter flicker in her stomach, partially directed at Avalon  - though it’s no fault of his own, not really.And partially at Faragonda, because Bloom realizes she’s going to be stuck with that smile for possibly another semester if she keeps missing classes to deal with Baltor.“…Honestly, Ms. F? With all this talk about Baltor taking cosmic energy, it got me wondering about important stars he might target. So I was researching, and I found mentions of a Wishing Star. I thought something powerful like that would be dangerous, but also might really help us in battle, you know?”It’s not a complete lie, which is probably why Bloom (mostly) has no trouble saying it out loud. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Faragonda’s shoulders relax. “I see. It’s certainly a tempting power. And one that seems plausible, especially given your history with Sirenix.”Ah yes, Bloom’s last rule-free wish. The one she’d used to break the curse on her sister and Sirenix as a whole, because her entire life up to that point had revolved around undoing the damage The Ancestral Witches caused. Especially when it came to her family.But Bloom had also held out hope that with Daphne back, things with her birth family would finally fall into place. She would have a sibling, someone on her side that would always be welcoming, would make her feel like less of an outsider in the palace walls she’d fought so hard to defrost.It hadn’t worked, but the sentiment had been nice.”Unfortunately,” Ms. Faragonda’s words snap Bloom back to reality. “The stories surrounding the Wishing Star are just that - stories. It’s not a real entity.”Bloom blinks in surprise. “Really?””Really. Some people believe it, but it’s more akin to legends. Your Saint Nicholas on Earth is a good comparison.” Bloom must look distraught, because Faragonda places a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, my dear. I hope you didn’t spend too much time looking into it.”She feels like a fool. Of course Baltor’s been feeding her lies at every turn. It’s his specialty. “No…that’s okay. I’m glad someone told me before I got deeper. And Ms. Barbatea will probably be happy to get these books back.”Faragonda chuckles. “Here, I’ll help you take them back to the counter.”She picks up the smallest book on the table. The leatherbound one Baltor asked Bloom to keep hold of. The one she now wants to keep just to chuck at his head next time he breaks into her room.”Do you -” Bloom starts, then forces herself to take a breath so she doesn’t sound frenzied. “Do you mind if I keep that one, actually? Even without the Wishing Star, I’m really enjoying it.” And Faragonda smiles at Bloom like she’s everything she could have hoped for.

4.

She is nineteen years old in the Magix Museum. She has just agreed to trade the Agador Box for the life of a boy she met an hour ago.  Aisha and Tecna think it’s a horrible plan, or even a trap. Musa is teetering on the edge of going with them. Flora and Stella think they’re doing the right thing. Bloom doesn’t know what to believe. Regardless, one thing is clear - no one wants to be wrong and risk Ophir’s life.

No one wants to deal with the fallout.

She is the one to walk alongside Baltor as they make their way to the roof, taking up the back of their rather strange group. In between glances and examining the beating he’s given the museum in both disgust and delight, Bloom sees Ophir step over the remains of a guard bot with no issue. A worrying knot twists her stomach.

“Is he part of this?”
Baltor’s eyes snap to her, openly surprised she’s speaking to him. “Is who a part of what ?”
“Ophir. Does he work for you? Was he in on this?”

He gives a huff in response, turning his gaze away. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Anger flares in her chest and a bold move, Bloom gets in front of him. While he once loomed over her, the Enchantix brings her to eye level. “Yes. I would.”

There are several beats where he doesn’t say anything, just stares at her like he doesn’t know what to do. One beat before the silence would become awkward, the corner of his mouth lifts (almost imperceptibly). “How much is the information worth to you?”

Bloom’s eyes narrow at the tone of voice. “You’re already getting the Agador Box. You can’t possibly expect more.”

“Oh, you’ll find I can be a bit of a glutton when it suits me.”

“The Eye of the Ancestresses isn’t an option.”

Part of Bloom hopes she’s a step ahead, but when Baltor raises an eyebrow as though the thought hadn’t occurred to him, she realizes she’s missed by a mile. Not for the first time that day, either. “The bauble locked in the vault with almost three dozen men guarding it, ready to become martyrs? Perish the thought.”

“Well then you’d better start making suggestions.”

“A kiss.”

She steps back in surprise.  “I...I’m sorry?”

“I said I’ll tell you for a kiss.”

“That is...you…” Bloom stares at him, at the expectant look on his face. “...Why?”

That smirk comes back in full force, and he leans forward so his lips are against the shell of her ear. “I like watching you squirm.”
Bloom has learned showing any emotion around Baltor is a bad idea, lest she be frozen in a block of ice (again). She’s done her best to mentally prepare since then - she thought her time on Pyros would help. And while it might have in other lacking areas, it doesn’t stop a shiver from wracking her body. One Baltor notices.
He leans back, looking like things had - once again - gone exactly to plan. “If it’s too high a price for you and your lofty morals, then I believe this conversation is over.”

Baltor flexes a single finger. Rubble skirts away as if drawn by a magnet, creating a more direct path that will get them to the group faster. “Shall we?” His tone is perfectly pleasant as if the last minute hadn’t occurred. “I do have quite a few spells to load into the Agador Box, and the sooner I begin I -”

“Wait.”
She wants to take the word back as soon as she says it. Especially when Baltor turns back and closes a majority of the distance between them. Bloom can see faint lines where he’s healed wounds on his face, ones that she knows hadn’t been there when he broke out of Omega because she doesn’t remember seeing them the last time they were this close. It’s her desire to keep her friends safe, and not to keep surveying his face close up, that keeps her from shrinking back. She hopes.
After a few seconds Bloom clears her throat. “No tricks? One kiss for one straight answer to my question?”

“You have my word.”

“...Then I agree.”

An almost predatory look settles in his eyes, which stay trained on hers. “Good girl. After you, then.”

Bloom inhales sharply but leans forward, quickly and unceremoniously pressing her lips to his cheek.

Pride flares in her chest - though it’s based more in self-satisfaction than anything else.

It vanishes when he catches her chin in his fingers. For a moment Baltor looks surprised, before an unmistakable look comes into his eyes.
“You clever little minx,” he murmurs, sounding almost impressed. “But no.” The worst thing is that there’s time - time for her to pull away, put up a fight, or outright tell him to stop. She could scream if she wanted - the others are close enough. She doesn’t. Instead Bloom stares at him, feeling the tension in the air magnify.
Baltor guides them behind a particularly large pile of rubble when she doesn’t struggle, bringing her closer at the same time. She steps with him. It already feels like she’s jumped off the edge of a cliff without wings. 
Maybe it’s why she doesn’t fight when Baltor again takes her chin in his hands. There’s a second of stillness before he finally, finally , leans in and kisses her.
Bloom had wondered if it would be a chaste thing, a peck of the lips to leave her more embarrassed than anything else. It is not. Baltor kisses like he does everything else - with his whole self and every ounce of power in his being. He dominates her, and in any other circumstance Bloom would fight, but it’s so overwhelming that she can’t find it in herself to do so. 
His tongue slips into her mouth, and Bloom doesn’t think before opening wider, giving him better access. It’s hot , almost to the point of pain (and part of her likes that), a rush that’s so different and so immediately addicting. If Bloom were being rational she would blame the Dragon Fire, but she isn’t so she doesn’t. Instead she kisses back, matching the passion Baltor gives her. She finds herself drawn to the shape of his mouth, the way he goes from almost sensual to frenzied when she starts to respond. It makes her limbs jolt, and she reaches for him to steady herself. She doesn’t expect to feel so alive. In the end what pulls her back isn’t the worry of getting caught, or even that she wants to stop, but her own body’s need for oxygen. Bloom has to rip herself away, gasping deep breaths that based on Baltor’s reaction go right into his ear. A hand that she hadn’t even realized was on her waist disappears. 
Bloom straightens up to look at him. Baltor’s hair is disheveled from where she had fisted and pulled at it. Fairy dust is on his lips, sparkling and wet, and the sight of it makes something very hot shoot down her extremities and settle between her legs. She starts to lean forward again, making it within inches of his lips before a gloved finger stops her.

“I’ve never met your gentleman friend before today. Keep him out of trouble next time, will you?”

He does reach for her then, but only to take her arms from around his neck and pull them away. Baltor straightens his hair, then his coat, then turns and walks through the path he had created before things had gone so sideways.

Bloom stares at him, unable to move until the sound of his footsteps rattle her brain back into place. She doesn’t even have the grace to blush.

It’s the first kiss he’s ever stolen from her.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

There are certain places in the dimension that don’t like having the Winx around - either because they’ve annoyed an influential, powerful person or the (not entirely unfounded) belief they bring trouble wherever they go.Andros has never been such a place. Between Aisha’s good word, closing the Omega portal, and defeating Tritannus, King Teredor has made it clear the girls are welcome whenever they like. It’s how they gain an invitation to the planet’s founding celebration despite the tight security at the borders.Aisha spends three weeks working on her speech about the strength of Andros’s people and the benefits of an alliance with Lumenia to protect not only the Omega portal, but also the planet’s personal cosmic power; a suboceanic star lighting the mermaid kingdom. Gorgol was never a target for Tritannus, given its necessity to sustaining underwater life, but things were different now. With Queen Dorana’s help, there would be a protective shield to keep any darkness from entering.Wishful thinking. Aisha gets about five sentences into the speech at the welcome ceremony before a deep rumble sounds from the ocean. The waves kick up along the cliffs below the castle. The Winx exchange knowing glances and are halfway to the door before Queen Legia can say what they know.“I’m coming with you to fight.” Nex is suddenly in step next to them, pulling his suit jacket off to reveal a Specialist’s uniform.  “I can make myself useful.”“You’re going to slow us down,” Aisha insists, a bit annoyed.“Then let me watch your back. I’m not leaving you girls to deal with these star eating creatures on your own. Or worse.” He looks past his girlfriend and catches Bloom’s gaze. “Please.”She bristles, glaring daggers at him until someone turns in her direction.In the end Nex does come with them, swimming at the back of the group as they make their way to the underwater cave system that houses the star. There’s a bright flickering as they approach the entrance and head inside, ready to face another round of dark fledglings. They’re so focused they don’t notice the trap until it’s too late. Worse is that it’s twofold. The first part begins when they enter the large, room-like structure where the star is held. The entrance collapses behind them, filled with rocks, seaweed, debris -And Nex, somewhere in the passage.Aisha screams and turns back for him when part two begins. Legia had warned of a defense system to protect the star; they just hadn’t expected electric anemones to carry enough voltage to harm them. But they do, and after a few shocks Stella is down, Flora slowly succumbing next to her.Bloom hears Baltor’s pet rat laughing before another shock hits her between the wings, and her vision goes dark.She wakes up to the sound of waves and sun in her face.The Sirenix transformation is gone, leaving Bloom in the dark blue ballgown she’d been wearing at the founding celebration: she can feel the sea breeze whispering over her shoulders. She lifts a hand to block the brightness from her eyes and turns on her side, coughing to dislodge seawater from her lungs.She almost misses the sensation of something firm - a hand - rubbing circles into her back.Her cough turns into a groan of frustration. She reaches back, makes contact with a shoulder, and gives it a (weak) shove.The hand stills but doesn’t retreat. Moments later a smooth voice speaks directly into her ear: “Haven’t you learned to swim yet?”“Haven’t you gotten tired of screwing over Andros?”That finally causes the hand to retreat. Maybe Bloom would be worried if she had more presence of mind. There’s too much saltwater in her stomach at the moment to care. “If I’m even still there.”A pause. “We’re still on Andros. A few miles south of the island housing the Omega portal.”Bloom sits up, ignoring the throbbing behind her eyes. The sea, bright blue and shimmering, greets her in all directions. She doesn’t comment on where they are. It’s a given. The pavers under her fingertips are worn and familiar. Bloom’s seen this stone rotunda so often in her dreams she could sketch it blindfolded with enough detail to put architects to shame. The only difference is that the stones are dry now, having been out of the ocean for several years.Her head swivels to look at Baltor, kneeling on the ground next to her. She’s surprised to see him out of his trademark jacket, but doesn’t offer comment. He scans her, eyes lingering on her bare (and now bruised) shoulders before returning to her face. “You look awful.”“Thanks.” Bloom deadpans, meeting his gaze. “Where are the girls?”“Alive. Gorgol’s defenses are keeping them in a suspended state - I even believe Aisha escaped it. But the Dragon Fire and Sirenix are not meant to interact for extended periods. Your magic was starting to fail. It would have killed you.”“Bullshit. You expect me to believe that?”A small smirk cracks his features. The surprises keep coming as Baltor lays down on the stone, hands under his head as he stares at the sky. “You can believe what you like. I didn’t expect a thank you.”The relaxed attitude does little to put her at ease - in fact it’s the opposite. “Then why do it?”“What a good question.” Baltor doesn’t look at her, nor does he add commentary.“There was a Specialist with us,” Bloom says after a minute, partially to keep her mind focused and partially out of guilt remembering Nex was there. “What happened to him?”Baltor’s lips press into a thin line, the first sign of discomfort he’s shown. “Last I saw, Aisha had mostly dug him out of the rubble. Complaining about a few bruised ribs, but he’ll live.”She lets out a deep breath and buries her head in her hands.A hand reaches out to squeeze her leg, just above the knee. Bloom can barely feel it under the layers of her skirt, but her Dragon Fire hums at the contact. “It wasn’t as seamless as I’d hoped for. You do have my genuine apology in that regard.”Bloom turns to look at him as he continues. “Rest assured, Obscurum will be punished for his shortcomings. Though I may deserve it, in a way. I should have seen to it myself.”“What are you talking about?” Baltor’s face keeps that neutral expression, and after a moment Bloom’s eyes widen. “You…you told Obscurum to try and kill Nex?”“I believe the phrase you’re looking for is thank you, Baltor. Please let me make it up to you.”The hand inches higher, but she’s too shocked to address it. “Why on earth would I want that?”“Because unlike you, I have no qualms with teaching the boy some manners. Especially in the way he addresses you.”“You can’t teach him anything if he’s dead!” Bloom snaps, then registers the rest of his words. She pushes his hand away with a disgusted noise. “You eavesdropped. When we were out last week.”Baltor takes the rejection in stride, as he often does. “On you giving weight to the opinion of a nobody? Yes, I did.”“For a nobody he’s pretty spot on, isn’t he?”“That isn’t the point, darling. The boy comes from an influential local family. They’ve made him think between that and dating a princess, he has a right to give unsolicited opinions. It’s a nasty habit that someone had to break him of. Not to mention serving a warning to others.”She openly scoffs at him, though part of her is curious how Baltor’s learned so much about Nex in such a short amount of time. “Please. I’ve said way worse than Nex and instead of attempted murder, I got whisked away to a tower in the middle of the sea.”“You should be careful, then. Girls who do that can get hurt.”“Hurt by people like you?”Baltor sits up and leans in close. “I don’t want to hurt you. I want to see you thrive.” The sincerity in his voice catches Bloom off guard. He reaches a hand up to comb through the parts of her bangs that have come loose, and while Bloom should stop him she doesn’t, because something habits something something repeating the past. “You are so much potential, even now. They’ve tried to put you in a box but even within it, you are raw and passionate and powerful. Your beauty combined with your captivity break me. You are capable of so much more.”It takes more willpower than she’d like to admit to look him in the eye. “What a nice speech. But you tried this already. At least the view is better than Alfea’s.”Bloom gets the smallest, perhaps genuine smile in return. “And still witty: how do you stand it?”“I ignore asshole men who lie to me.”An eyebrow lifts. “Strange choice of bedfellow, in that case.”Instead of acknowledging the accidental flaw in her logic, Bloom shifts the goalposts. “I know there isn’t a Wishing Star.”For the first time in recent memory, Baltor openly wears surprise on his face. “And…just who was it that provided this revelation? One of your friends?”“Three guesses.”From Baltor’s immediate and dramatic eye roll, she knows they won’t be necessary. He shifts to stand, offering a hand to Bloom when he’s on his feet.She doesn’t hesitate as long as she should before taking it.“Tell me, what makes you believe the word of your dear keeper without question?”“Eight years of unconditional love and support?”Baltor’s bark of laughter echoes in the rotunda despite its lack of walls. “If Faragonda’s affection is unconditional, my reasons for saving you were purely chivalrous.”“Instead of?”“Selfish,” Baltor says as if it’s obvious, and maybe to everyone but Bloom it is. He lifts her hand to his face, lips brushing across her knuckles. “And personal desire.”She shivers. “The desire to see me thrive, or…something else?”“Both.”“All you’ve ever done is lie to me.” Her voice sounds far away, drowned out by the sea breeze and a light ringing in her ears. “Why should I believe you? About any of this?”“I’ve never lied about this. Your parents, I concede, though I would classify that more as…necessarily misleading.”“Would you now?”Baltor smirks at her unimpressed tone. “But there isn’t a point to such deception anymore. Our dear king and queen are alive and well, and you’re…older. Wiser. More mature -”“Spare me,” she rolls her eyes, not failing to notice their still joined hands. “In the spirit of this newfound desire for honesty: what do you want, Baltor?”He uses that hand to pull her against his chest, gaze suddenly intense. “I want you spread across my bed wearing nothing but that fairy dust pendant, unable to do anything except moan my name.”There’s a sharp inhale before Bloom can stop herself. She tears her gaze away to try and hide any reaction her eyes would give away.“Exchange of honesty: would you like that?”“No,” Bloom spits out immediately, refusing to let the thought dig deeper into her head.Baltor seems undeterred as always. “You certainly could have fooled me.”“Oh fuck you.”A warm hand draws her face back towards his, despite alarm bells wailing in her mind to fight back. “Tell me you’ve never considered it. Tell me and I’ll leave right now. I’ll never mention it again, or hold it over your head.”“Liar,” Bloom snarls, because she knows him too well at this point, and giving up such a hold over an enemy would be guaranteed suicide. And maybe if she keeps snapping at him, going for the offensive play and rejecting every open-ended innuendo, it will trick the rest of her brain into following suit.“Which one of us?” Baltor keeps his tone level, but she can see amusement dancing in his eyes. Amusement and something darker.She opens her mouth to respond. No sound comes out.“Just tell me, Bloom. You know I can keep a secret.”Her hand is still somehow linked with Baltor’s. He tightens his fingers around her while the other reappears on her bare back, trailing up her spine with a light touch that sends little zaps of energy through her nervous system. She hasn’t felt it in years, since she was dragged between another set of stone pillars on a distant planet.In the sunlight, something - probably sea spray - glitters on Baltor’s lips.Bloom’s control snaps.She grabs the collar of his shirt, yanking his head down and capturing his lips in a blistering kiss.Baltor makes an approving noise that reverberates into her mouth, his hand finally letting go of hers to slide around the back of her neck. The other creeps towards the center of her back, pressing into the flesh her wings sprout from. The burst of ecstasy it elicits makes her hips surge forward.The layers of material in the skirt make it impossible to feel anything, and Bloom curses Stella’s newfound obsession with crinoline. It leaves her arching into his chest instead, desperate for other points of contact beyond Baltor’s hands and tongue. Everything is frenzied, somehow too much and too little at the same time.It should scare Bloom. When she pulls back to take several harsh breaths and sees those slightly swollen lips curl into a knowing smirk -It gives her a sick pang of excitement instead.This time Baltor uses the grip on her neck to drag her back to his mouth. He overtakes easily, teeth scraping across her bottom lip with enough force to cut. His tongue follows moments later, lapping at the wound before continuing his exploration. A crossed wire (a crossed wire a crossed wire, nothing else) makes her equate the sensation with pleasure, and Bloom moans.And just as suddenly as it had come on, Baltor pulls away, a fierce no spilling past his lips as he shoves Bloom off him and stalks towards the edge of the rotunda.It’s a fight to keep herself upright. “What?” She asks, noticing and immediately ignoring the growl in her voice.The rest of her sentence (that she really should be glad she doesn’t finish) dies on her lips as she watches Baltor go unnaturally still. Their Dragon Fire connection crackles, for lack of a better term, and Bloom senses he’s reaching out to check something far away. A moment later he shakes his head. “It seems Aisha and her dear Specialist are about to uncover a way of deactivating Gorgol’s personal defense system. That will release the rest of the Winx from their suspended state.”A wave doesn’t crash over them, but it may as well have.“Oh god,” she says, fear ebbing into her voice. “You-you have to send me back. If they wake up and I’m not -”“Already in progress, darling.” Baltor turns back toward her, a spell executing in the palm of his hand. The extra seconds have allowed him to slip back into his normal, seemingly unfazed demeanor. The only difference is a thin line of drying blood connecting his lips to the bottom of his chin. “After all, we can’t have this getting out, can we?”Bloom subconsciously raises a hand to wipe her face before muttering under her breath. A moment later her ballgown is gone, replaced with Sirenix’s shimmering scales.It flickers on her for the briefest moment before settling.
Your magic was starting to fail.
She shakes her head, stepping closer as a portal materializes from Baltor’s spell. A dark, deep cavern lies beyond it, water trying and failing to push past the barrier. She stares at it, even as she feels a hand grasp hers and lift it to a pair of lips.“Until next time, Bloom.”
It’s like he was waiting for you.
“Leave Andros alone, for Arcadia’s sake.” Is what Bloom says in reply, and in lieu of acknowledging anything. “You’ve hurt Aisha enough over the years.”Baltor makes no comment, as though calling out the obvious strain in Bloom’s voice is too easy even for him. The hand skirts up her arm to her shoulder before shoving her inside the portal.Nex comes out of the ocean with a broken arm and a gash across his cheek. He seems genuinely happy that Aisha's okay, and even compliments the girls on their relighting of Gorgol, protecting the oceans for the indeterminable future.He doesn’t look at Bloom when he says it though.In fact he doesn’t talk to her until he passes by with two drinks in hand later that evening. He doesn’t stop his stride, but he does turn his head to say under the music and nearby conversation: “Tell your boyfriend to aim better next time.”Bloom glares after him, but doesn’t retort or follow.Looking back, it’s the last thing Nex ever says to her.  
5.
Teredor likes them fine, but that doesn’t mean everyone on Andros does. Bloom notices dirty looks out of the corner of her eye for the rest of the night. Stella laughs them off. Musa wants to pick a fight with a young nobleman that makes a snide remark to his date. Aisha stops her, because it’s her planet and Musa is drunk.The news articles start the next day. The Andros Registrar runs a thinly veiled hit piece on the Winx’s inability to keep Baltor from draining stars. In it, sandwiched between safety concerns and calling out a trade deal between Solaria and Andros, is a three sentence paragraph:
Concerned citizens questioned if crowned princess Bloom of Sparx was allied with Baltor during his last attempts to overtake the dimension. Parents from four separate kingdoms spoke with Alfea staff and were assured the princess was working with the other Winx to eradicate Baltor. Of course, we now know that didn’t happen.
It’s more than enough. Someone (probably a freshman fairy Bloom’s signed an autograph for) makes a big online thread calling the article author a sexist conspiracy nut. Things go semi-viral from there. When Nova brings the topic up on the Solarian View, Bloom gives up and privatizes her social media accounts.Teredor threatens to blacklist the Registrar from all upcoming political addresses. King Radius takes a cheap shot about his inability to control his own citizens, which leads to another wave of political sparring. The aforementioned trade deal is put on hold. Eraklyon comes out in favor of free press, because Erendor is an asshole and has never missed an opportunity to try and knock Bloom down a peg.Sparx makes no public comment, but Bloom’s come to expect that.She is twenty-four years old, and there is a gaggle of parents outside Faragonda’s door.The cacophony of voices are simultaneously too deep to be just girls and too loud to be any students. Bloom rounds the corner and sees Griselda, looking more flustered than usual, standing with a group of about twelve people outside Faragonda’s office.They’re dressed in different kinds of finery from across the dimension: some tall, some with crowns, and one man in particular with multichromatic skin. Some are talking amongst themselves, while one or two are talking at Griselda with a tone of superiority that makes Bloom feel genuinely sorry.One of the adults - a balding man with orange tinted glasses - catches her staring out of the corner of his eye. There’s a flash of embarrassment that Bloom takes to mean he had been talking about her, and though she hadn’t heard anything in particular her mind is already coming up with plenty of ideas. He clears his throat sharply, and the rest of the parents turn their gazes on her.Every single one is cruel.Bloom stares back, a feeling of hopelessness settling in her stomach.Griselda, for her part, looks like she wants to defend Bloom. And if it were another year with a smaller group of people, maybe she would have. But it’s twelve against two, and the dean of Alfea has always been a realist.“Bloom, I’m afraid Miss Faragonda has meetings booked well into the afternoon. Anything you need from her will have to wait.”She wants to scream, or cry, or yank out her hair. This isn’t fair - none of it is. She’s a grown woman at this point, how can they look at her like that? A very vocal voice in the back of her head tells her to blast the group out the window they’re standing by. Surely a fall from this height won’t kill them, but it will scare them into leaving her alone. That voice didn’t used to be so loud.“Bloom?”She comes back from her thoughts to see Griselda raising an eyebrow in concern. “Unless there’s some sort of emergency…”“…No, ma’am. I’ll come back later.”“Very good, then.”Two dozen eyes stare at her back as she goes back the way she came. Bloom feels their gazes like a scope, watching until she disappears around the corner. The talking resumes, much quieter but just as fierce. She doesn’t bother to stick around and listen.It’s been eight years since she set foot in the Magic Dimension, but it’s only today that Bloom realizes this isn’t going to end.Not unless she does something.A week later Bloom walks into her dorm room after her grueling three-hour night lecture on spell balancing to find Baltor laying on her bed, looking very out of place on the bright yellow comforter as he tosses a ball of energy between his hands.The door closes with a loud and pronounced thud. “Um…hello?”His gaze slides to her, a faint smirk on his lips. “You still bother going to classes?”It’s not what she expects to hear. “Why wouldn’t I?”“I’m shocked there’s anything left to teach you. Or anything of value.”She crosses her arms over her chest. “What do you want?”“I needed to check a passage in that book of fables, if you’d be kind enough to take it out of hiding.”“With the nonexistent magic star?”His smirk widens. “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”Bloom rolls her eyes and shifts her book bag to open it up. The small leatherbound anthology rests between her notebook and tablet. She hasn’t taken it out since running into Faragonda in the library, lest someone else see and question her about it.Despite the (still strong) desire to throw it at his head, Bloom settles for crossing the room and unceremoniously dropping it onto Baltor’s chest. “There. Look up what you need and get out.”The ball fizzles out. “My, aren’t we testy today?”“You have three minutes before I start screaming that you’re in here.”Baltor snorts, picking up the book to flip through. He offers no further commentary: no quips or questions or flirtatious remarks. He also makes no move to touch her, a stark contrast to the last few months. Bloom goes to sit at her desk chair, never taking her eyes off him, but it proves to be unnecessary. She may as well be a wall ornament.It’s a strange shift. Stranger still that it makes her feel…empty.“Why are you even bothering with it?” Bloom finally asks, not caring that she’s the one to break the silence. “There’s nothing concrete it can actually tell you.”“If I wanted Faragonda’s worthless opinion parroted at me, I’d go speak to Griffin. Or your dean of students.”Bloom doesn’t rise to the bait. “I’m serious.”She gets an overly dramatic sigh in return, but Baltor still doesn’t look at her. “Because when you get to be as old as I am, you learn it’s best to check all available solutions to a problem, regardless of how likely they seem.”People may talk a big game, Bloom, but they haven’t adapted.Bloom realizes she’s connected two dots Baltor may not have realized he’d left in the open. “Why adapt now if no one else has?”Baltor’s hands shake as if the question catches him off guard. If Bloom wasn’t looking directly at them she would have missed it. Pride flares in her chest over finally finding a hairline fracture in his carefully crafted persona. “...Because. Those who adapt overcome.”“Overcome what?” There’s no response to that. When she looks up at his face Baltor is staring too intently at the page he hasn’t turned in several minutes, eyes unmoving. “Baltor, how did you get here? Not Alfea. Back to this realm.”For a minute she isn’t sure he’ll answer. Eventually he sighs, placing the book page-side down on his chest. “Varying circumstances. Obscurum among them.”That isn’t the surprising part - there’s no way Baltor would have kept him around willingly. “And the others?”“I’m...indebted to people, you could say.”“What kind of people?”Baltor rolls his eyes at the ceiling. “It doesn’t matter. I’m handling it.”Very carefully, Bloom goes and sits at the edge of her bed near Baltor’s feet. That finally gets her a flicker of recognition. She almost reaches out before thinking better of it. “Gangs, at least where I’m from on Earth…if you want to leave, there’s a lot to pay back. Money, weapons, gifts…and even that’s not enough sometimes.”He smiles for the smallest fraction of a second. “Oh, I have that covered, I assure you.”“And if it doesn’t work?”“Are you offering assistance?” Baltor asks, a bit of surprise in his voice.It’s her turn to roll her eyes. “Would it matter if I said no? One spell and I’d have no choice.”At that, Baltor turns his full attention to her face. Something in her eyes must give away her discomfort because he sits up, scooting closer to her. “You think I would do that?”“Overshadow me with your mark, manipulate me into helping you, make me think that these feelings are -” Bloom cuts herself off, in part due to her voice rising, and out of fear of finishing the thought out loud. “Deception is your speciality: you said it yourself. Are you going to mock me for being prepared?”The reaction isn’t what she expects. Baltor tilts his head and offers her a look that seems too soft for his face. A hand reaches out and brushes through her hair. Bloom doesn’t lean into it, but for a second she seriously debates it.But then Baltor speaks. “You precious little thing. You won’t belong to me because I take you - twist you, use magic to make you think it’s what you want. You’ll belong to me because you’ll come of your own volition, begging for it. And I will be all too happy to oblige.”There’s a clap of displaced air and Baltor’s gone, the book landing on the mattress with a faint thump.  
6.
Teenage boys ruin everything. Orion is no exception.He hangs back at the ramp of the ship, shuffling from foot to foot with poorly hidden stress. He’d given them a ride to an isolated star system Baltor drained the night before last to survey the damage. Tecna is convinced with Timmy and Orion’s help, she can create an artificial core to sustain planets for the time being. Everyone is in high spirits, eager to help.It leaves Bloom to notice how squirrely the kid’s been since they boarded. Specifically when crossing paths with her.“Is everything okay?”Orion doesn’t meet her gaze. “Mostly.”Her eyebrow raises. “Mostly?”“Yeah. I mean, I kind of…I had to talk to someone from the Council. About stealing Peripla’s engine, and Iridia, and…you know who.”The explanation eases her worry. ”Oh. That makes sense. Those guys can be scary to deal with the first time around. Are you in trouble?”“Community service.” Despite his anxiety Orion looks momentarily annoyed. “But I had to sit and answer all of their questions for hours. I tried to give them an overview, but they wanted details.”“Typical. What did they ask about that has you so worried?”“Questions about Baltor. And…you.”Bloom freezes. “What do you mean and me?”“They wanted to know everything Baltor said to me. Down to vocal inflection. But they kept asking if he mentioned you specifically. And if you said anything weird about him.”“And?”“And I had to tell them the truth. They’re the government, Bloom.”She groans, running her hands through her hair so they don’t wrap around the boy’s throat. “I get that, yeah. But what, specifically, did you say? Do they know about the note?”Orion shakes his head. “I told them Baltor asked me to pass along a message, but changed my mind after you helped me. They’ll check my logs, but I didn’t record it there.”“Did you tell them what it was?”“Just numbers. I couldn’t remember more.” He looks at her out of the corner of his eye, his face ebbed with guilt. “I didn’t want to get you in trouble.”Bloom laughs bitterly, leaning against the ship wall with more force than anticipated. The loud clang that follows makes Orion flinch. “I think that ship’s sailed. It’s not your fault,” she adds when he starts to apologize. “You’re right - there’s no reason to lie to the Council. They would’ve figured it out, anyway.”“I told them you weren’t suspicious. You just told me all the bad things he’s done. And that you yelled when I said I helped him -”“What did he say?”Orion stops. “The Council guy?”“Baltor. What did he tell you about me?”It takes him a few seconds to speak. “Baltor told me you were powerful fairies but…but you were the strongest. The robot could kill everyone, but not you. You were supposed to live and when it was over I needed to tell him so…so he could come get you.”She avoids the urge to bang her head against the ship, barely. Her limbs are suddenly too heavy, and all Bloom wants to do is crawl into a cave until she dies. “When did this happen?”“Yesterday. They said they were going to take the week to compile my testimony and chase leads from there.”“….Okay.”For some reason her acceptance seems to guilt him more than her anger. “If they try and talk to me again I can -”“If they come back you answer their questions,” Bloom waves him off. “It’s not worth the trouble you’ll get in if you get caught. I appreciate the heads up, Orion, really. I just need a minute to think.”“I can tell Tecna you got a call from the Specialists you needed to answer.”She gives a small smile. “That’d be great, thanks.”He nods and trots down the ramp after Tecna and the girls. Bloom watches him for a bit before turning and going back inside the ship. On her way she trips over a loose cable on the floor.Bloom blasts it before thinking, leaving a smoldering, foot-wide hole in the ground.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

It happens three days later, like some sort of biblical prophecy. Faragonda summons all six Winx to her office and lets them know the Council will be there at the end of the week. They want to discuss the current situation with Baltor, why he’s behaving differently, and - most importantly - how he slipped through their fingers five years ago.Everyone looks annoyed for very different reasons.Bloom thinks that’s the worst of it. She does until Tuesday when she’s on the phone with Sky.“They did what?”Bloom hasn’t seen Sky in person for almost a month - not that she’s complaining. Her head is swimming between school and Baltor and the new onslaught of angry parents. Things would probably be easier now if she’d bitten the metaphorical bullet and explained what was going on to him. But that was before Tides and the Magic Archive and Erendor being his usual charming self.Speaking of charming, Sky laughs a laugh that would have calmed Bloom down, once upon a time. “I’m probably making it sound scarier than it is.”“Well what is it?”“Kind of like that video you showed me from Earth. There’s a spell weaved into a device they connect to you - not like with needles! It’s a wristlet, and it makes sure you’re being truthful.”“A lie detector ?”“I…guess so?”Bloom sits down on her desk chair - because she wants to, not because her knees are weak and her heart is hammering in her chest. “I-I don’t understand. Why would they do that to us - to you?”“Baltor has them spooked. They’re grasping at straws to figure out what he’s after.”“World domination,” Bloom says like it’s obvious, because it is. “They seriously have to strap electrodes to my chest to figure that out?”She must sound borderline hysterical based on the caution in Sky’s voice. “Bloom? It’s not going to be a big deal, I promise. It’s common in their interviews. Helps things go smoother.”If it’s so common, how have they never used it on her before? How did they not strap her down at eighteen like Lord Darkar until she told them what she never wanted to repeat? Why don’t they trust her now?Well, Bloom knows why. But why do they know?Sky’s voice breaks her spiraling thoughts. “Is everything okay? I know it’s been intense with the press, and my dad didn’t help but I’m trying to make him recant, or at least apologize-”“It’s fine,” she lies, only because he did first about his father. “It’s just bad timing, and I’m late for Avalon’s class. I have to go.”He replies, but Bloom hangs up before she can process the words.Tuesday and Wednesday are spent researching. As much as she can, anyway. Bloom can’t directly look up counterspells for the Council’s sugar-coated interrogation tactics, not that she expects any to be publicly available. She does find out the spell has been used as an actual interrogation tactic, though. The realization that she wasn’t exaggerating does little to make her feel better for the wrong reasons.Instead she delves into Earth research on the subject. Research papers on the reliability of lie detectors, how well they hold up in court, how often they’re used as ironclad evidence, the damn Mythbusters episode on how to beat them: anything that sounds even sort of useful. But even as she reads and watches, she knows none of it will be.In forty-eight hours Bloom manages to sleep for maybe six of them. It becomes apparent she needs help. The torn map corner calls to her like a siren.Bloom ignores it, and decides to try the more logical solution first.On Thursday afternoon Bloom walks into the commons to find the girls sitting in the living area, talking amongst themselves. The timing is great, and Bloom almost comments on it before she sees everyone freeze. Some are more obvious than others (Stella doesn’t even look surprised she’s there, a true testament to her poker face), but the sudden absence of voices reminds Bloom of Faragoda’s office the previous week. Her heart rate jumps.Flora clears her throat and gives a smile that’s a touch too put-on. “Come join us, sweetie.”She drops her bag on the ground and does, settling into the beat up armchair that’s somehow survived the better part of a decade in their dorm. “…What’s up? Did something happen?”“No, not at all. We were just talking about stuff that’s been going on.”"Stuff going on,” Bloom repeats blankly. “About me?”"If you want to be technical, it’s about all of us,” Tecna pipes up with a voice that’s only a tiny bit strained. “Specifically, how many people have been discussing our ability to protect the dimension, given Baltor’s return.” Musa and Stella nod in agreement, but don’t offer up anecdotes of their own. Picking on the weakest link is a cruel tactic, but Bloom does it anyway, shifting to face the end of the pink couch. “Aisha?”The girl’s deep blue eyes widen before she can stop them. Bloom looks at her expectantly, and Aisha sighs before straightening up in her seat. “Nex talked to me.”Always fucking Nex.“He’s worried about you.”"Is he now?” Bloom says before thinking better of it. “Could’ve fooled me the last time we talked.”"When was that?”Bloom’s jaw tightens. This isn’t what she wanted to deal with tonight. She’s too tired, there isn’t enough time to think about what she’s saying before she says it. It’s dangerous, and she can’t leave.“The party on Andros,” she finally admits. “He told me I should make sure Baltor aims at him better next time, like I had something to do with his injuries.”The bet that Nex left out that little remark hits. Aisha looks mortified, and Stella does the tapping motion with her fingers that means she wants to wring someone’s neck. “Or do you mean at the club,” Bloom continues. “When he was drunk and insisting we have some deeper, cosmic connection?”Aisha’s shoulders sag. “That’s…not how he told it.”
Oh, I bet not.
“But he did say something that was really surprising,” Musa finally speaks, and at this point it’s so obvious what the girls are up to. Someone should have hung a ‘Happy Bloom Intervention!’ banner above the couch. “When we were on Peripla, he intercepted a frequency of you and Baltor talking.”All Bloom can manage is a plain smile that she’s sure isn’t very nice looking. But it’s the best she can do at the moment. “We did, for a minute. Though I totally would have classified it as mocking.”Her attempts to downplay the interaction don't go the way she wants. Everyone’s eyes snap to her, and Bloom’s hit with a barrage of questions. “So it did happen?”“Well, yeah -”“Why didn’t you say anything?” Tecna asks next.“It wasn’t a big deal.”Flora's turn. "You didn’t call us for backup on the ship.”“You guys were protecting the lumens! That was more important than trading barbs with a voice on an intercom.”“Who talked first?” Aisha now.“I was doing a mayday call and he jumped on the comm to taunt me. He wanted me to beg for the boys' lives.”“Did you?” Stella asks, her voice calm. It makes sense, however, that her simple question carries the heaviest weight.Bloom glares at her, no longer caring if her anger is visible. “I did, actually, on account of them being our significant others and best friends. It was a cruel and humiliating experience, so thanks for bringing it up again. But it also worked, so you’re welcome on top of it.”Stella’s eyebrows shoot up under her bangs.“And that was the first time you saw him?” Flora, ever the (emotionally) rational thinker, presses on, desperate to figure out how deep the problem goes so she can fix it.Bloom groans and bangs her head against the chair. “Oh my god, you guys are making such a big deal out of this! I’ve faced Baltor one-on-one before and I’m still here. It was words, just words!”“Bloom -”“He was never on the ship. I would have called you guys for backup, you know that.”“Bloom,” Flora repeats, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Did you see him before that?”“Once, but so what!”The suite goes silent.“That is…” Bloom closes her eyes, doesn’t swear because she knows it won’t help. Doesn’t open her eyes because she can’t bear to look at anyone yet. Takes a deep breath. “It wasn’t…he came to scare me, that’s it. He wanted me to know he was back and that I failed at keeping him away -”“Did he hurt you?”She opens her eyes. Musa looks shocked. “No.”Stella straightens in her chair and stares Bloom down. “Where?”Bloom can’t meet her gaze. “…My dorm room.”Tecna makes a sound of disbelief and chokes on her spit, launching herself into a coughing fit. Stella talks over her, undeterred. “When?”“A few days before Twinkly got here.”In the corner of her vision, Flora’s eyes go wide.On the other end of the spectrum, Musa’s voice takes on an angry tone. “Oh so it’s still not our problem when he shows up where we live? C’mon, B, that’s a load of crap.”The anger breaks something in Bloom. She takes several breaths, trying to calm herself and salvage things before they go too far off the rails. “You’re right. I should have told you.”“What did he say?”“It…it wasn’t really talking -”Aisha throws her hands up in frustration. “Well shit Bloom, did he stand in the corner like an antique coat rack?”“No!”“Then what? What did he do?”“He reminded me I’m a failure!” Bloom yells, the truth burning her throat as it escapes. She takes in the range of looks being thrown her way; calm, disbelief, anger, uncertainty, betrayal. It’s matched only by the thoughts that have been left untamed in her head since she realized the truth in Avalon’s class. “That’s all Baltor has been doing for months. I was the one in charge of stopping him and I didn’t. I don’t even know how. It was my job - my only job - and I couldn’t do it, just like I couldn’t with Darkar, like I still haven’t with the Trix. Everyone knows it now, and if it isn’t Erendor or parents or Nex reminding me at every waking minute, Baltor’s there to drive the knife deeper.”No one speaks for several minutes. Bloom drops her head into her hands, focusing on her breathing and trying not to cry. Stella breaks the silence. “That’s why you’re so worried about the Council."She laughs humorlessly. The chain of Sky to Brandon and Brandon to Stella is so logical she should have clocked it the minute she hung up the phone. “Yeah. Just a little.”“You think they’re going to blame you?” Bloom doesn’t even know who asks the question: it doesn’t matter. “Well I don’t think they’re going to be pleased I kept this to myself. And I’ve been the dimension’s scapegoat for the last few weeks, anyway. It doesn’t really make sense for it to stop now.”“They aren’t going to release the testimony publicly.” Aisha says, her voice small compared to a few minutes ago.The look Bloom gives her makes Aisha blush in embarrassment. “They’re going to figure it out when I get thrown into a cell at their headquarters.”“No one’s putting you in a cell, Bloom.”“…Not if they don’t know.”Things turn quiet again. Some of the girls exchange looks. Flora, oddly, enough, doesn’t make eye contact. Her expression is unreadable. Stella steps up, Bloom’s fearless second in command since day one. “What do you mean?”Her tone alone should have made Bloom abandon the idea. She doesn’t. “Look, the Council is coming here looking for two things; answers on what Baltor’s after, and a scapegoat for the recent bad press. We don’t have the answer to the first thing, but there’s a good chance they’ll use me as the solution for the second. As soon as they find out Baltor was at Alfea it’s over.“Look, I…” Bloom stops, trying to find a way to explain her situation and make it make sense after having no one to discuss it with. “I will answer every question about Baltor’s plans honestly. Because I honestly don’t know what they are. But they can’t know he’s been seeking me out. It’s too risky.”The silence when she finishes speaking is too loud. None of the girls look at each other, just at her.Finally, Tecna speaks: “There isn’t a way to do that.”Bloom’s heart sinks. “There has to be! A charm, a way to block the spell -”“The kind of magic they’ll have will take serious power to counter.”“We’re the Winx Club! Who’s more powerful than us?”“Bloom…maybe you’re looking at this the wrong way.” Aisha, despite being there for Lord Darkar, despite Stella telling her about the Council after Lord Darkar, has the gall to smile. “The Council has a lot of pull in the dimension. They can make it seem like you’re being open and helpful in the investigation. They’ll help with the magical barrier around Alfea.”Bloom is smart enough to not yell that Baltor’s already broken the barrier at Alfea. “There’s no way they’ll do that.”“They certainly won’t if you try to lie to them.” Flora points out. She looks uncomfortable, and Bloom realizes, too late, that she’s done the mental math and realized her first breakdown all those months ago wasn’t because of Sparx stuff. “We’re glad you told us, it…surely explains some concerns we’ve had…”“No.” Bloom’s shaking her head before Flora’s done talking. She doesn’t know how she’s messed up this bad. How has she not made them see what’s at stake here, after being so open? Her best friends. “You guys know this isn’t going to end well. I know I didn’t tell you stuff when I should have, and that’s my fault and I’m sorry, but I need you to back me up. You have to help me!”Flora, with that same pitying look Bloom’s starting to really hate, shakes her head. “We’ll be with you every step of the way, Bloom. But we won’t lie for you. The answer’s no.”
7.
“Sure.”Bloom blinks at Baltor, lounging on the throne in the great hall of his gaudy castle on an abandoned asteroid as he gazes into a crystal. “...Really?” she asks without actually meaning to.He gestures vaguely down the hall. “There’s a decent collection of books in the library. One of them should have the spell needed to fool the Council. The ones from Linphea, probably.” When she doesn’t move he scoffs. “Would you like me to hold your hand and walk you down there, too?”A blush rises in her cheeks. “Linphean spell books?” Bloom diverts the conversation away from his mocking. “They figured out how to beat lie detecting spells?”“Science versus nature - there was a war, several hundred years ago. It’s a basic spell for them, taught during secondary school. Leftover combat training.” Baltor sits up fully, raising an eyebrow when she doesn’t say anything. “Something wrong?”Bloom feels her jaw starting to wobble; sadness and shame and anger washing over her. She turns and heads towards where Baltor’s pointing, hoping she’s been too fast for him to notice. “No. Forget it. I can get the book myself.”There’s an unmistakable crackle of a spell firing off, and in the next moment Bloom is turned around, walking straight into the intricately carved throne. Baltor grabs her waist as she skids to a halt, and with the momentum quite easily pulls her into his lap.“Now don’t be like that.”“Baltor, don’t -” Bloom starts to argue, but the hand that comes up to stroke her cheek is so soft, so warm that the words die in her throat. She squeezes her eyes shut, a few stray tears escaping.Baltor tsks at her, his thumb wiping them away. “Oh, sweetheart. What is it?”She can’t open her mouth, too afraid of what might come out. More tears fall, and Blooms feels a hand move her head into the crook of Baltor’s neck. The hand on her face continues gathering tears, the other sliding around her waist to keep her close. Bloom doesn’t sob, not quite, but the hiss of breath between her teeth leaves little to the imagination. “Talk to me,” Baltor says after several minutes, fingers stroking along her cheek. His voice has a pleading tone. “Let me help.”Genuinely, she tries. “It’s just…there’s an answer. And they didn’t…they lied and said they couldn’t…”“Who couldn’t?” Baltor asks, though a moment later Bloom feels his shoulder tense as if he’s figured it out. “Your friends. You asked them for help first. And they said no.”“They practically laughed me out of the commons.” The statement isn’t entirely true, but at the moment Bloom’s too upset to care. “You must love that.”“I take no pleasure in seeing the way you are now. Betrayal is a difficult thing to experience, especially from someone trusted.”There’s a watery laugh in response. “Trust me, they didn’t seem to have the same heartache.”“Well...it might be worth considering that they want you to be caught.”Bloom scoffs at that, finally raising her head. “Why would my best friends want me to be a pariah?”“Knowing your goody-two-shoes club, they wouldn’t view it as further alienation. They’re trying to help you. The Council is a large entity that won’t bother itself with rehabilitation. They’ll leave it to a more… capable person. Someone dedicated with a strong set of keys to keep you safely locked up.” The implication isn’t lost. “You mean Miss Faragonda.”“Of course: once she’s aware of your transgressions, she can swoop in and be your hero. The Winx don’t have to worry about how to fix things, just celebrate when it is fixed. It’s not entirely their fault,” he concedes absently, fingers twirling her hair. “They’ve been fed the same lies you have about her.”She shakes her head. “You sure know how to hold a grudge, don’t you?”Baltor’s eyes gain a sudden spark as if he’s realized something, but it’s gone as quickly as it’d come on. “Maybe one day you’ll understand my point of view. Will you go back and accept your friends with open arms when you leave here?”Instead of laughing at her lack of response, Baltor just sighs, leaning in to bury his nose in the crown of her head. Bloom doesn’t stop him: she’s too tired to fight, thinking about the strange, hollow feeling in her chest that wasn’t there several hours ago.
You think we don’t see a pattern?
“They don’t realize what it’s like for us. The Dragon Fire, dormant for seventeen years, was suddenly reawakened, desperate to find other pieces of itself. It brought us together in ways we’ll never understand. And even now, years after Sparx’s resurrection, that connection hasn’t wavered. We are its two strongest vessels, idolized and feared by those in the magic universe, but reduced to playing messenger for a cosmic entity.” Baltor leans back and looks her in the eye. “We are always connected. To deny it is to deny reality.”Bloom understands his speech in a strange, small-fish-in-the-ocean kind of way. She also understands there could be deeper meanings to his words, but she’s in no shape to decipher them. Not today. “You’ll really give me a counter spell for the Council?”If he’s annoyed at the dismissal, Baltor doesn’t show it. “I will.”“What do you want for it?”Baltor seems to seriously consider the offer. “A simple favor. The next time I offer you a piece of information, you’re to give it a fair chance instead of casting it away.”Bloom raises an eyebrow. It seems like too little a price for such a large task. “…That’s all?”“That’s all.”“…Then I agree.”He smiles and for a singular moment looks as if he’s going to kiss her. But he doesn’t.Bloom doesn’t know how to feel about it. Or she does, but refuses to admit it.On Friday, two men from the Magic Council meet her in an empty classroom down the hall from Faragonda’s office. They hook Bloom up to what she can only describe as a lie detector with lights instead of a graph. When they ask her baseline questions and she lies about her birthday, the lights on the device strobe and change color.“When were you made aware of Baltor’s survival?”“When the Winx and I were on Lumenia. We saw his insignia on the remains of a monster we fought.”Bloom keeps her breathing even. She looks the head representative (interrogator) in the eye when she answers his questions.“When was the last time you saw him in person?”“On Andros, when I was nineteen.”She smiles politely and accepts when the one watching the device offers her a glass of water. No, she doesn't know what his plans are and yes, they do seem different from when he first tried to take over the universe. She will do everything in her power to stop him, because that's what she's been trained to do.“Were you ever in a relationship - physically or emotionally - with Baltor? Now or during your third year?”“Never.”The lights don’t flicker, even for a millisecond.“What happened?”Bloom stares at Flora, and finds she’s too numb to be upset anymore. “I handled it.”She goes into her room and closes the door.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

8.
When the realm-wide web doesn’t melt down and news reporters don’t flock to the barrier outside Alfea, the rest of the Winx Club realize they’ve been outsmarted. They’re not sure how , but they know it’s happened. Bloom hopes they’ll take it as a checkmate in their fight. Something in the past that doesn’t need to be brought up again.But these are her best friends she’s talking about, so that doesn’t happen.They take turns trying to get her to open up, instead. It’s done individually, given the failure of the last group effort. Hallways, classrooms, the dining hall, the bathroom while she’s brushing her teeth: nowhere is safe. Bloom gets good at dodging questions, even better at blankly staring, and (frankly) fucking incredible at venomous one-liners.“C’mon, Bloom,” Musa argues one day as she walks past the commons without acknowledging her or Tecna. “How long are you going to do the silent treatment thing?”She stops and turns back around. “Oh, so if the Council drags me away it’s fine, but being quiet because I want to be is where you draw the line?”Musa stares at her, slack-jawed, and Bloom’s gaze turns to Tecna. “I’m willing to move past this, for the record. Which is pretty big. You guys can either agree, or this keeps up. Your choice.”A few seconds after her bedroom door closes, Bloom feels the tingling of a spell going live. Curiously, she presses her ear to the wood -And recoils when she hears Musa’s scream of frustration. It makes Bloom smirk.Despite their hiccups, Bloom still comes out with everyone on Friday. Maybe because it’s a smaller group: Sky and Brandon are on Eraklyon, dealing with who-knew-what at this point, Aisha and Nex are off-planet celebrating their anniversary, and Stella is on Solaria. Bloom has no doubt her oldest friend has orchestrated a lot of the mediation attempts in the last week, so without her there things seem mostly calm. Even the boys, who have likely been brought up to speed, don’t act like anything’s different.Mostly.“So…brr.”Bloom rolls her eyes as Riven slides into the empty space next to her, bottle in hand. He’s fished his Union Jack shirt out from the back of his closet, and it matches the dark colors of the bar (no dance clubs without Aisha to drag them there)."What did Musa say?” Bloom asks, because before things blew up Musa casually dropped that she and Riven were talking again. If only that had stayed the topic of conversation for longer than a day. “Or was it Stella?”“Both.” Riven, to his credit, didn’t sugar coat things. It’s a trait Bloom’s come to appreciate the older she’s gotten. “Stella said she’s worried. Musa said you guys are having some kind of nuclear fight. World War Winx?”“Ha ha.”“Bloom, c’mon, you won’t look at them.”"Sounds like a question to ask them .”“I’m asking you first.” “You didn’t talk to me first though, did you?” Bloom gives him a pointed look and sips her own drink. “They made a bad call and I’m upset about it. We’ll get over it, just like we always do.”“Look, I’m being serious. Nex said -”“Do I look like I give a shit what Nex said?”Riven practically jumps at the change in her voice. “Uh…sorry? Since when are you two not friends?"“We weren’t friends to begin with.” Bloom says, pointedly ignoring Musa and Tecna watching them from the other side of the bar. “Just because he’s dating Aisha doesn’t mean I want his opinion. Especially when I didn’t ask for it.”“…Okay. I didn’t know."She gives him a look. “Of course not. You haven’t been here, Riven. You don’t get to just waltz back into our lives and pretend it’s been a long weekend. That isn’t fair to any of us. Especially Musa.”The muscles in Riven’s jaw twitch. Egging him on is a bad idea, Bloom can’t help it. “I mean, would you be talking to me right now if just Musa had told you everything? Or did it take Stella to make you consider it?” Bullseye. “That’s not fair.”“ Life’s not fair, Riven. Don’t you always say that?”Bloom watches his free hand ball into a fist. “Seriously, Bloom, what the hell is wrong with you? You’re mad at the girls, whatever, but it’s not like they killed Kiko. I don’t get it.”“Then maybe you‘re missing important context and shouldn’t be involved.” She tilts her head back and downs the last of her cocktail.“...Where are you going?” Riven asks incredulously as she bends down to pick up her small, heart-shaped purse.“The bar. A long haired thirty-something guy batted his eyes at me.” Bloom deadpans, and walks away before Riven can say anything else.Stella isn’t even there when she sics Riven on her. She’s at her parents' reunification ceremony . A stupid name for what’s essentially their re-marriage. They’ve gotten along better over the last few years, since Tritannus’s threats brought the two halves of Solaria back together. And since Stella used her Sirenix wish on them.(No one else had to worry about their planets or dead siblings like Bloom did. They were allowed to bring their most selfish, delusional fantasy to life. Musa hasn’t even used hers. The bauble sits on a shelf above her bed between a framed photo of her mother and a signed CD. Not that she’ll offer it to Bloom. Not after everything that’s happened.)But as usual, things have worked out perfectly for the princess of Solaria. Parents back together, Cassandra and Chimera in jail for treason, perfect friends, perfect boyfriend.Speaking of which, Sky texts Bloom after weeks away and says he and Brandon will be back in Magix in a few days. He asks to go on a date and catch up on things. Bloom doesn’t know what he knows, and she’s terrified to find out. In some ways, Sky is Bloom’s last thread of normalcy, tying her to the life she’s slowly been losing her grip on. If that thread snaps, she isn’t sure what will happen.Though it may have snapped when Baltor kissed her again. Or when she kissed him . Or any of the other ways she’s screwed up lately.Bloom still says she’ll see him. Sends the text with heart emojis from her dorm room, where she’s been cooped up all weekend.And then she leaves.Gardenia is Bloom’s only respite. Her parents’ dated, two-story townhouse smells a little musty from humidity. Pictures hang on the staircase wall of elementary school graduations and trips to Disneyland. Mike still drinks out of the coffee mug Bloom got him for Christmas when she was seven. Vanessa fills the house with various flower arrangements she’s practicing for the shop. Here, in four walls near the Gardenia Harbor, Bloom can exist in peace. No fairies, no magic, no judgment.Except about mundane things.“I dunno, honey…are you sure we should spend the money on a food truck?”Bloom has been called home not for interrogations or interventions, but for her mother’s birthday. Mike, bless his heart, is terrible at party planning. But at least he’s smart enough to ask his daughter for help. “Think about it Dad. It’s probably going to cost the same as buying it ourselves, but we don’t have to store it, set it up, or deal with leftovers. Plus, if Aunt Caroline comes, she’ll want to help in the kitchen.”Mike shudders and starts scribbling on the small notepad he’d brought out. “Good point. Don’t want a repeat of the Thanksgiving of ‘98. Your mom still gives me grief over that.”Bloom smiles and buries her nose into the bouquet on the kitchen table. Her mother’s latest floral experiment is a combination of purple and yellow hyacinths that bring some much-needed color to the room. “So that’s the food, theme, and location…I sure don’t remember doing this much when you turned fifty.”“That’s because parties are your mom’s thing. Speaking of which…” Mike winks and shoves the notebook into his pocket at the sound of jingling keys and a lock turning. Moments later Vanessa comes in from the garage, grocery bags in hand. “How’s it looking out there, honey?”Vanessa stops to kiss both of them on the head. “The next time I want to go shopping, remind me about the freeway construction. What have you two been up to?”“Dad wants me to give another fire safety lesson to the elementary school,” Bloom replies easily, dropping him a wink when Vanessa turns away. Mike gives a subtle thumbs up of approval. “I guess field trip season is coming up.”“What a great idea! But before you get back to that; Bloom, sweetie? Will you help me unload the rest of the car?”“Sure, Mom.” She jumps up and follows her out to the garage. Bloom grabs two brown paper bags and passes a third to Vanessa. “Anything else out of the trunk? The water jugs?””Those can stay for now,” her mother replies, but doesn’t start back towards the door. Instead she gives one of those motherly smiles that Bloom remembers for her childhood. The ones Vanessa specifically reserved for lectures. “You’ve grown up so much these last few years, honey.”Bloom raises an eyebrow. “Mom?”“And I know it probably isn’t cool to get advice from your mom anymore, especially when you have magic powers and fancy palaces to live in. I don’t know much about royal etiquette…but I do know a thing or two about friendships.”A metaphorical bucket of ice water splashes down Bloom’s back. She groans and puts the bags down. “Oh my god , Stella called you? Are you serious?”“Now before you rush to judge, she didn’t tell me what the fight was about . Just that it’s bad. Is that inaccurate?”She sits in the still open trunk of her mom’s hatchback. “It wouldn’t be bad if they would stop making such a big deal out of it. I mean really, Alfea spends years and years teaching me to stand on my own two feet, and when I finally do they’re upset? It’s stupid!”Vanessa says nothing, doesn’t play devil’s advocate, just sits next to Bloom. “What you’ve been put through isn’t fair. I know that, even though I don’t understand everything.”“And yet?”“And yet,” Vanessa acknowledges, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I felt better, because I didn’t know the ins and outs of magic, but Stella did. And then just Stella became Stella and the rest of the girls. Even Sky, as much as your father won’t admit it.”Bloom smiles at that a little.“I’m not telling you to put the whole thing behind you,” her mother continues. “But I am saying you’ve been best friends for eight years. And this is - seemingly - your first major blow up. Those are a part of friendship too. Maybe less common when you’re saving the universe on a regular basis…”“Mom,” Bloom groans, but feels the smile still on her face.Vanessa chuckles and gives her a one-armed hug. “You’re stubborn, sweetie. But you’ve got the biggest heart I know. Take some time to think about it. But promise me you will think about it?”“Yeah, okay, I’ll think about it.” The smile slips away, and Bloom bites her lip. “Would you mind if I stay here tonight? I don’t have class until the afternoon.”"It’s your house too, honey. Always.” Vanessa kisses the top of her head and stands, stretching her arms above her head. “Now let’s get these put away.”In the middle of the night, Bloom awakens to the sound of her rabbit rustling around, probably trying to get to the snack stash on top of her bookcase. Despite a well-balanced diet, he’s been known to crave the occasional potato chip. “Knock it off, Kiko,” Bloom groans, turning over and pulling the covers over her head.Before she remembers Kiko is back at Alfea, and it’s April.With a snap the overhead light turns on. A fireball springs to life in Bloom’s hand, and she sits up and swings her legs out of bed, scanning for the source of the noise.A small, dark creature screeches and darts behind her trash can. “No! Wait!”The voice is high and terrible, and sadly familiar. “…Obscurum?”Baltor’s minion peeks its head out, beady dark eyes staring at her. It’s the first time Bloom’s seen it in several weeks, and the only time it hasn’t started attacking on site. Despite her drowsiness, she has enough presence of mind to realize it’s not here to fight.Bloom groans and drops the spell. “What the hell is going on, Obscurum? What do you want?”“Not want. Was sent."It was incredible that the only complete sentences it could form had to do with itself. Bloom spares a single moment to wonder what kind of personality it had before the dark corruption. But she’s still half-asleep, so it stops there. “Why didn’t he show up himself? God knows Baltor loves a late night rendezvous…”“Master busy. Sent Obscurum instead. With information.”She rubs at her eyes. “What information?”Obscurum fully comes out from behind the trash can. Bloom can now see a thick, tan envelope clasped in its left claw. It offers the parcel up with a shaky hand. “For you.”Bloom takes it with a raised eyebrow. “…What is this?”“Master not say. Just it part of deal. Obscurum fried alive if not delivered.”“Can’t have that, can we?” She mutters, examining the cover. The paper under her fingertips is thick, embossed with a swirling, gold-tinged design. Flipping it, Bloom finds no discernable markings or writing on the folder. Whatever is inside likely came from a larger set, and Bloom has no doubt it’s been stolen.A litting chuckle breaks the quiet of night. Bloom looks up and recoils at the smile Obscurum gives her - if the rows of yellowed, jagged teeth could even qualify as one. “Is there something else?”It keeps smiling. “Hehe…Master likes Bloom.”She shudders and opens the folder. “I sure hope so.”The first thing Bloom notices is Eraklyon’s official seal in the top right corner. It suddenly makes sense: she’s picked up on the planet’s preference for physical recordkeeping, even when many more traditional planets were switching to digital.She expects the whole thing to be about her - past transgressions, complaints, maybe transcripts of a secret meeting or two. It isn’t. None of it is about her.They’re arrest records. Three of them. Bloom flips through them haphazardly, then stops when she sees whose they are. And then she starts reading.By the time the sun comes up and cars start honking outside, Bloom’s corkboard looks like it belongs at a police station. It's been overtaken by pages, passages highlighted in different colors and sticky notes summarizing important details. Paper is scattered on her floor and bed. Bloom has a midterm this afternoon in Avalon's class that she hasn't begun studying for and needs to pass, and she does not care.Bloom doesn’t do much with Griffin’s record: it's mostly useless, publicly available information. She can’t even think about the second one, though it’s mostly covering her wall, showcasing serious grievances and giving context to things she's never even considered asking about her headmistress.But the last one. The thickest, newest file with a mugshot of a girl who’s breathtaking despite smudged eyeliner and messy hair. Its details are so intimate Bloom should feel sorry for its subject. But she doesn’t. Instead Bloom looks at the arrest records: the psychiatric evaluations, testimonies where it should be so clear she was lying through her teeth, letters of recommendation from high-ranking officials (including Prince Nereus, of all people), and flips to the final page.Where all of the charges over the last five years are blocked by a red stamp stating ‘No Re-entry’ in bold letters, which is just visible under a second, green one that spells out ’Rescinded.’ That is the one that breaks Bloom.

9.
“When were you going to tell me?”Sky, in the middle of pulling his helmet off, gives Bloom a curious look as she approaches the levi-bike. “Tell you what?”“That you’ve spent the last two months going over and approving Diaspro’s request to be let back on Eraklyon as a royal liaison?”The helmet falls on the ground. “W…What?”“You heard me.”“I…” Sky stares at her for a few seconds, then shakes his head. “Who told you about that?”“Is that really the first thing you want to ask me?” Bloom starts pacing, staring at the gravel road instead of in Sky’s direction, because it’s easier. “Was this whole date just to soften the blow?”“No!”“Were you ever going to tell me yourself?”“Of course I was -”“Really? Your dad isn’t going to parade her out on a realm-wide broadcast and call me a freak in the same sentence? You aren’t man enough to stand up to him and -”“Stop it Bloom!”She looks up to see Sky picking his helmet off the ground. His shoulders are tense. “You’re upset, I get it. You have a right to be. But it isn’t that simple.”It isn’t. Bloom knows that. As teenagers, their relationship could survive on simple truths like ‘I love you’ and ‘together forever.’ But being adults in the real world is different. There are factors that exist outside themselves; politics, trade deals, public opinion, and a dozen other things Bloom can’t think of off the top of her head. It doesn’t mean Sky loves her less.But it’s been seven long, wonderful, difficult, loving, painful years with a Diaspro-shaped shadow hanging over them both. And every time she thinks it’s gone it rears its ugly head.“It should be.” Is what Bloom says instead.“Yeah, it should be.” Sky sighs. “But it isn’t. I did everything I could to keep her position limited -”Bloom scoffs. “Please, she has full access to the palace.”“According to whom?”She freezes before she can stop herself, then overcorrects by crossing her arms over her chest. Sky watches her with narrowed eyes. “It’s not my fault there’s a leak in the palace.”“It’s not in the press.”“…You’re right. I got tipped off. A reporter wanted me to comment. He sent me an email this morning.”Sky doesn’t believe a word she’s saying. His gaze is calculating, the same way she’s seen him size up monsters and sleazy duchesses. “I can restrict her access to certain areas if it makes you feel better.”“It doesn’t. What hallway she can go down isn’t why I’m upset, Sky. I’m upset because you’ve given her chance after chance when she’s made it clear she’s not going to change. She tried to kill me! She and the Trix came to my planet, my home, and threatened it. And instead of taking it seriously, you’re looking the other way.”His jaw wobbles.It’s enough. Bloom takes one look and suddenly understands so many of his current emotions. He’s angry, yes, but not at her (not fully, anyway). There’s something else: another reason Sky’s here that he had been hoping to avoid. But now that Bloom is out here screaming at him, he’s starting to wonder if the topic is worth mentioning after all. Maybe whoever brought it up wasn’t so crazy after all, and Sky can’t believe it’s taken him this long to figure out.She should be impressed with her deductive skills. It’s proof she and Sky have been together long enough to communicate via gestures, even when they don’t mean to. But she also knows there’s only one thing he could be nervous to ask her about.Bloom takes a step back from the bike. “Oh not you too.”Sky looks confused, and it almost makes her more upset than the whole Diaspro fiasco. “What?””Don’t what me, you know. Stella, Riven, Nex, my damn parents, who cares where you got it from, but someone told you. You haven’t even asked me and you believe them!”“Maybe because I just got here? Bloom, I didn’t want to ruin tonight more than I had to, and I thought Stella was exaggerating with Brandon -”“Thought? As in past tense? But now you’re not so sure.”“…I sure think you’re angry about more than Diaspro.”Bloom stares him down, a stance that seems too strong for her fragile emotions. “Ask me, then. Go ahead.”It takes him several beats, as though he isn’t sure where the trap is set but knows one is nearby. “Have you seen Baltor since he came back? In person, not over a comm call.”“Yeah Sky, I made out with him too. It was super hot and sexy.”He makes a disgusted noise. “I’m trying to be honest about this. I was going to be honest about Diaspro too but you just jumped in and -”“Don’t.” Bloom cuts him off, her voice very quiet. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”“Then don’t say stupid shit like that just to get a rise out of me!” If you only knew.Bloom doesn’t respond, and Sky buries his head in his hand, fisting his perfect blonde hair. “I don’t understand.” He finally says, and means it. “Please. I want to help -”“No! You want to control me, like everyone else does, and keep me the same naive little girl who came here at sixteen!” Sky doesn’t say anything to that, and it further ignites the anger in her chest. “But that isn’t who I am anymore. I defeated Baltor on my own. I brought Sparx back to life. I’m one of the most powerful fairies to walk through Alfea’s halls and I am so sick of repeating myself to everyone. I made one mistake, and I shouldn’t be crucified for it. If Diaspro's anything to go by I should be given a medal.”“No one expects you to be perfect, Bloom.”All she does is raise an eyebrow. “They don’t?”“… I don’t expect you to be perfect.”“Just stupid, right?”There’s a sigh in response. “Bloom -"“I think you should go.”“…Yeah.” Sky doesn’t argue. He puts his helmet back on and revs the bike. “I think I should, too.”The freshmen see. Of course they do. There’s a grainy video without audio, but it’s enough. ‘Power Couple Breakup’ trends dimension-wide by the end of the day. Nova wants to set up an interview. The Specialists blow up her phone. Daphne suddenly remembers her sister’s existence and asks to have a girl’s afternoon tea in Magix.Diaspro’s file is gone when Bloom goes back to Gardenia to drop off party supplies, along with Griffin’s. Miss Faragonda’s still hangs on her wall, new lines of deep blue magic connecting events Bloom had missed beforehand. He must be delighted.Sky doesn’t go to the press. Bloom doesn’t answer any questions.“You’re going to have to talk to us eventually.”Bloom swivels in her desk chair to face Stella. It’s the first time she’s seen her supposed best friend since the intervention. She looks less put together than usual, more concealer under her eyes to hide bags. “I’m talking to you now.” Bloom deadpans.“Har har,” Stella says without any humor. She regards Bloom carefully, like a designer bag she’d debate putting with certain heels. “Bloom whatever’s going on -”“I’m not in the mood for a lecture.”The princess sighs and steps over the threshold into her room, closing the door behind her. “I’m worried.”“I gathered that when you called my mom.” Bloom stops and laughs to herself. “I gathered that when you called Riven . You’ve done everything except try and talk to me yourself.”“I didn’t think you’d listen.”She gives Stella a look. “That’s never stopped you before.”In return, Stella cracks the first genuine smile any of the girls have given her in weeks. “True.”Bloom smiles back, but knows it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Stella I…I’m tired of fighting.”“Pretty sure that makes six of us.” Stella goes and sits on Bloom’s bed the way she has dozens of times before. She smooths the comforter like she's always been there to fix it, and in a way she has (always been there). “Eleven if you count the boys.”The absence of one of the Specialists is noted but not commented on. “Then why are you pushing this so hard?”“Because we know you did something to pass that Council assessment.” Her reply sounds simple, but Bloom has no doubt it’s been practiced for hours in front of a mirror. “And we… I am scared of how that happened.”Bloom gnaws at her lip. You shouldn’t be is a blatant lie. It’s behind us is spitting at the first genuine attempt at reconciliation Bloom’s gotten from anyone besides her parents. I did what I had to do is petty and cliche.“I…didn’t mean to scare you. Really.”“That’s never stopped you before.” Stella throws the words back to Bloom, but her gaze is soft. “Will you tell me what happened?”“Stel…I can’t. Not right now, anyway.”She doesn’t start yelling, which is a good sign. Stella takes a deep breath, and Bloom wonders if Flora had to teach her meditation before sending her in here. Or hostage negotiation. “Will you one day?”“I want to.”Right answer. Stella’s posture relaxes slightly. “Okay. Are you still in this with us?”Bloom gives her a confused look. “What do you mean?”“I mean saving the stars. Keeping the universe safe. Fighting Baltor. Will you still help us?”“Of course,” she responds instantly, not processing the words because why would Bloom need to, she’s never had to before. Even if Stella’s last statement makes little red flags pop up in her subconscious. Those can be waved away. “That’s what I…what we do, isn’t it?”“Yeah.” Stella smiles at her, and it’s strange how they both seem to know how disingenuous their conversation is, but how unwilling they are to stop. “And you’re…safe, right?”“I’m safe. We are safe.”“Well…okay then.” In a surprising move - probably to try and ease the awkwardness - Stella reaches into the air next to her, hand disappearing into a trans-dimensional pocket of sorts. Bloom’s seen her use it to store makeup and luggage before. A moment later her hand reemerges, holding a small, leather bound book. “Here, a goodwill gesture. You left this in the commons yesterday.”Stella holds out the book of fairytales Baltor had left in the Magic Archives. Bloom sighs, hating herself for not keeping a closer eye on it. “I…thank you. I didn’t even realize I left it there.”“I’ve seen you reading it lately. Good stories?”“...Information on the Wishing Star, actually.” Bloom admits after a moment. Being a half lie isn’t a good start for their shaky truce, but it makes the words easier to say. “It’s stupid: I thought it was a real thing.”Bloom expects a polite laugh. Instead Stella raises a perfectly plucked eyebrow. “Of course it’s real. Who said it wasn’t?”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

10.
Griselda takes one look at Bloom’s face and lets her stomp into the headmistress’s office without a fight, much to the confusion of a trembling first-year sitting by the door.“You lied to me.”Faragonda looks up from her desk, obviously surprised. “My dear? What are you -”Bloom slams the book of fairytales down on the desk. “It’s real. Solaria’s head of astronomy has records. The rest of the Winx saw remnants of it in the Golden Kingdom. There is a Wishing Star.”The look of surprise momentarily turns embarrassed before going completely unreadable. Bloom doesn’t avert her gaze, chest heaving with angry breaths likely bordering on a panic attack. She wants to yell - she should - but there’s the tiniest sliver of hope in her chest that this is all a mistake.After what seems like ages, Faragonda raises her left hand and makes a flicking motion. Behind her, Bloom hears the office door close. The headmistress then brings both hands together under her chin. “Yes,” Faragonda finally says, her voice level and calm. “There is a Wishing Star.”The simple statement, without any remorse or apology, makes that sliver shrivel up and die. “I don’t understand.”“My dear - ”“No!” Bloom slams her fist on the desk, rocking a stack of papers. She doesn’t care as some of them float to the ground. She doesn’t even care if Griselda hears. “Don’t placate me, tell me the truth. I deserve that.”The older woman’s eyebrow twitches, but after a moment she answers. “The Wishing Star’s power is too unpredictable. Unlike Sirenix, there’s no guardian to keep the magic in check. It’s older, more wild.” There’s a pause as Faragonda obviously debates adding two words hanging unspoken in the air. She shakes it off and continues. “Not to mention tracking the star is nearly impossible. The Solarian Astronomy Delegation has tried, yet they’ve only gotten within five light years two thousand years ago. It’s an impossible task.”Bloom remembers Baltor running calculations with a sundial in the Magic Archive. “I could figure it out. The Winx and I.”“Possibly,” Faragonda concedes, though her face is still stony. “But Bloom, we both know this Wishing Star business is only a distraction for the matter at hand.”For the first time since entering the office, Bloom is confused. “…The matter at hand. What’s that?”The confusion seems mutual. “...Well…that is, I sent word. I assumed that’s why you were here. Why you came in guns drawn , as they say.”“What word?”Faragonda’s eyes go wide. Another round of emotions slide across her face before she gives a large sigh. “Sit down, Bloom.”She doesn’t want to. She wants to pace and shout and keep hammering her headmistress over the Wishing Star. She sits on the plush wingback chair.“I met with several members of the Magic Council today.”Dread settles in the pit of her stomach, though not as bad as the last time she heard about the Council. Despite the nuclear war in her friend group, Bloom knows none of them would rat her out to that high of an authority. “What did they want?”“To discuss safety measures. Despite the results of your magi-graph, the Council is still… concerned about the connection you and Baltor possess.”“But…there is no connection.”Faragonda sighs. “Yes, well, that isn’t good enough for them. They still feel it’s best to suspend you from Alfea until Baltor has been neutralized.”Suddenly Bloom is eighteen years old, sitting in Alfea’s auditorium with her friends as a group of angry parents demand her expulsion. The sting of Sky’s betrayal is fresh in her mind, fear gripping her chest that everything she’s ever loved is about to be ripped out from under her. “And…what did you tell them?”Because last time this happened, her amazing headmistress stood up and told all Bloom’s naysayers to kick rocks. The parents weren’t as influential as the council , but the basic concept is the same. Bloom has dedicated the last eight years of her life to defending Alfea, being its poster child. There’s no way -“I voiced my opposition, but ultimately I had to respect their decision.”Her immediate thought of oh, this is what it would have felt like is pushed aside by the chill that wracks her body. “…You what?”Faragonda launches into a (likely) rehearsed speech. Bloom hears none of it. Her mind starts spiraling, replaying the countless times the headmistress has stood up for her, all of the danger Bloom’s put herself through, not just for the sake of the universe, but because Miss Faragonda had insisted it was the only way.
A bird in a cage.
It doesn’t make sense. She is sixteen years old and Ms. Faragonda says she’ll always have a place at Alfea - She’s here now and Faragonda is telling her to get out.“…can’t do this.”“Bloom?”She blinks, realizing she’d spoken instead. “They can’t do this.” Bloom repeats. “ You can’t let them do this. It’s wrong.”Faragonda’s sigh might have been sympathetic once, but now Bloom feels like its borderline theatrical. “I know.”“I’ve fought every threat, passed every test. I resurrected Sparx. Every assignment you’ve given me I’ve done.” “Yes - ” “Eight years! I did everything you asked!”Faragonda gives her a pitying look, and it fills Bloom with rage . “I’ll make some calls, schedule discussions with the Board of Magical Education. With your prior good deeds, it should take no more than a week to convince them this is a mistake.”
Always a hero. Always looking out for you.
“Now, I’m afraid I have a meeting with the regent’s board, so we’ll have to speed through some of this. If you have your Alfea identification card I’ll need it back…” Not heroic enough to cancel a meeting, though .Bloom has no idea if the voice is from her own head anymore. She hands the ID over and lets Faragonda take a magic imprint of her palm to revoke her magi-lab access. There are some forms to sign, and for all Bloom knows she’s giving away her first-born child.It’s not important, anyway.The girls aren’t there. They’d had plans to meet in Magix - the first step in everyone getting along again. Bloom had promised to catch up when she was done with Faragonda. She doesn’t call.Packing is unceremonious. Bloom throws her most worn clothes into a duffel bag. Grabs her laptop, sketchbook, and a few sentimental trinkets. She leaves everything Sky’s given her.As she’s handing over her dorm keys to Griselda, there’s a high pitched squeaking noise. She looks down in time to see Kiko dart between her legs, hiding from a pixie pet he’s no doubt annoyed.Bloom feels a surge of affection, and she crouches down to pet him. “Will you keep an eye on him, Miss G?”Griselda’s gaze is kind. “If he goes sniffing for trouble, I’ll turn him back around.”Bloom nods and gives him a final scritch behind the ears. “Bloom.” Griselda continues, and it’s strange to hear hesitation in her voice. “I just want you to know how sorry I am about all this.”“...Thank you, ma’am.”A bony hand reaches out and squeezes her shoulder. In some ways Griselda’s been there for the girls more than Faragonda. She certainly disciplined them better, did her best to keep them away from actual danger. She’s always looked at Bloom as a student first, savior second. “I wouldn’t worry too much about all this. You’ll be back in these halls before the start of next week.”That damn realism, though.Bloom doesn’t bother hiding the fakeness in her smile. She can tell it surprises Griselda. “Of course. I’d expect nothing less from Miss F.”“Bloom?”The phoniness fades into something weak, but at least genuine. “Thank you for everything. Really.”Griselda doesn’t try and stop Bloom when she leaves.

11.
Going to Gardenia means answering her parents' questions. Going to Sparx means answering the press and her birth parents’ questions. Going anywhere in the dimension means the Council will be following in the shadows.Bloom is so tired of playing their games.She goes to Earth, but not home. To the redwood forests a few hours north, a place Mike and Vanessa had taken her camping as a child. Bloom had been indifferent to the idea then, but the skills Mike taught her came in handy later, especially during their Tir Nan Og expeditions.
You ignored all of that. Why?
There’s a decent motel up the road from Pfeiffer State Park. The man running the front desk doesn’t blink when she pays cash, or when she comes back from the general store with boxed wine and no food.Bloom drinks far more of it than she should, sitting in the (surprisingly roomy) bathtub. Her things are scattered all over, phone vibrating incessantly inside her backpack. The television has limited channel options, but Bloom has somehow found the only Earth news station that talks about the Magic Dimension. She listens halfheartedly in between casting charms to keep the water hot. Her fingers shrivel up and sweat drips down her back, but her drunken state leaves her too hazy to move. 
We won’t lie for you.
This is rock bottom: no friends, no fiancé, no school, no long-lost people ready to welcome her back with open arms. Hiding out in the woods like a runaway teenager. Everything shattered in pieces around her.But there’s a Wishing Star.The book of fairytales is wedged in the bottom of her backpack. Bloom finds it the next morning digging for a bottle of aspirin. It leads her down a rabbit hole; first studying the story with the Wishing Star in detail, then looking up others online. There are more than she expected to find, and she fills up pages and pages of her notebook from Avalon’s class, giving it more use in a single day than she probably had all semester.  She also pointedly ignores the notification bubble over her emails, ticking up and up until it reaches several thousand by the afternoon.
Reaching out regarding -

Looking for a comment on your recent suspension -

Want to set up a meeting -

Faragonda made a mistake, Bloom, call us back -
The only person she responds to is her dad, to tell him she’s safe (true), in good spirits (false), has the utmost faith in Faragonda to fix things ( very false), and will be back in Gardenia on Saturday for her mom’s birthday (true). Mike, bless his heart, is not as good at deciphering Bloom’s emotions via telephone as Vanessa is, and leaves it at that.Stella expands her attempted reach. People she doesn’t expect leave her messages. Mirta, Roy, Selina, Roxy, Andy, even Jordan sends her a text (Bloom wishes Stella had left that ex-boyfriend out of things). They’d heard what happened, want to check in, want to meet up for coffee, so on and so forth.Bloom doesn’t respond to any of them. She blocks Jordan for good measure. She keeps looking up information on the Wishing Star. Everything she finds leads her to believe what she’d hoped. It has the ability to grant a powerful, rule-free wish to whoever catches it. While there are rumors the catcher has to be pure of heart, there weren’t many stories that tested that theory.It’s a risk Bloom’s willing to take.Every time she takes a break from her research or goes for a walk in the forest behind the motel, she expects to turn a corner and find Baltor lounging on a rock, or in her room, or at the diner across the street. News of her suspension had to have reached him by now.But her room stays empty, the woods full of animals, and the diner occupied by hikers and families on road trips up to San Francisco or down to Pismo Beach.Baltor doesn’t come. Instead she hears about an attack on a remote star named Syderia, and how the Winx sprung into action to ensure the safety of the local lumen population.Bloom turns the television off and finishes the boxed wine.Despite never being a hike for fun kind of girl, by day three Bloom is sick of being cooped up and willing to try anything for some relief from her thoughts. There’s a new woman behind the front desk, and she’s all too eager  to recommend trails to her. She chooses one she can teleport to without much trouble, six miles with minor difficulty along a river.The trail is mostly abandoned given the time of year, but that’s fine with Bloom. She’s not ready to have full conversations with people yet. The view is beautiful, too. Redwood trees stretch hundreds of feet above her head, creating a canopy the light filters through. The river is fairly dry, more of a stream, but it babbles along, creating a ravine of sorts between the path and the mountain on the other side.It’s tranquil, and the most peace Bloom’s had in days.It lasts maybe thirty minutes.A rustling catches her attention, several feet off the trail. She stops and scans the forest floor for any kind of animal, but can’t make anything out. Bloom is ready to write it off as a rat looking for food when -“Finally!”Bloom winces at the screeching voice, then rolls her eyes at the sound of something falling. On the path in front of her, a dark shape tumbles out of the underbrush, landing face-first in the dirt. Beady eyes from Baltor’s dark fledglings peek out from behind trees and under rocks, watching it.She steps over the figure with barely contained annoyance and continues on the path. “Go away, Obscurum.”“No no! Miss hard to find. Obscurum search for days -”“Maybe I didn’t want to be found,” she lies.There are noises as it gets up and starts running after Bloom. She doesn’t glance in its direction. “Obscurum figure. No matter. Need to come with Obscurum. Master want to see you.”Bloom isn’t sure what she expected to feel hearing those words. Worry, annoyance, maybe even disgust or (worse yet) excitement. It certainly isn’t anger, but that’s the first thing that takes hold. “Well Master should have come himself, then.”“Busy.”“So I’ve heard,” Bloom replies, forgetting that Obscurum will likely relay their conversation word-for-word to Baltor. “When he’s not so busy, have him give me a ring.”Her reaction obviously confuses it, giving the sputtering noises it lets out. “B-b-but…can’t!”“Can and will . Bye now!”“Obscurum get in trouble! Miss must come!”“Sounds like a you problem!” Bloom calls over her shoulder, hoping it's taken the hint.There’s no sound of footsteps, and she revels in the silence until it speaks again. “What if last chance?”Its tone alone makes Bloom stop. She slowly turns back and looks down at the creature. It gives her another uncomfortable grin, but unlike her room in Gardenia, this one seems more malicious. “…What’s that supposed to mean?”“Master nice to Bloom because Bloom listen. If Bloom no listen…is Master still nice?”Obscurum looks so self-assured, so confident it has the upper hand. The image is so absurd Bloom bursts out laughing, and finds herself unable to stop. The anxiety and stress from the last few days bubble into her throat, escaping the only way they can. She would look unstable to anyone who came across her. “Are you…is that supposed to be a threat?”“No!” It sounds embarrassed, but its dark gaze is unchanged. “Just curious.”Bloom wipes at the tears forming in her eyes, a strange calmness settling into her bones. Maybe Obscurum was just what she needed. “Obscurum, you don’t have the mental capacity to understand what’s going on. I told you to go, so go . Unless you want to walk for another four miles in silence -”“What if Master leave like friends?”Her muscles seize. “What did you just say?”“Winx on Syderia. Try and stop Obscurum from stealing light. No have Bloom.”She stares at it in shock. Seemingly emboldened it continues: “Winx no help Bloom anymore. Don’t need. Don’t trust .”Bloom shakes her head. “T-That’s not -”“Prince leave too.” Obscurum’s grin widens. “ Never come back.”“Who told you that?”It starts circling her, hands clasped behind its back. It’s a stance Bloom knows it picked up from Baltor. She remembers seeing him do it once, on Andros. Suddenly the sound of the brook is ringing in her ears. “Obscurum knows. Friends gone, Princey gone, school gone. Master all that’s left.”“You don’t know anything .” She spits, hands balling into fists at her sides. “You’re an insignificant little pest who can’t even steal starlight on a good day. It’s a wonder Baltor keeps you around.”“Obscurum useful. ” It leers up at her. “Is Bloom?”“Oh fuck off, you little rat.” She starts walking away, but only makes it a few steps before Obscurum is in front of her again.“Ignoring Master is bad idea! Master all Bloom has left. Will lose him, too.”“I’ll have plenty left.”“ Liar .”Her eyes go wide. The anger that’s been building in her chest doesn’t stop, but turns into something white-hot. More concentrated. It distributes itself evenly throughout her body, and instead of bursting out seems to…wait. “Stop talking,” Bloom says, slow and even. “Stop talking and leave me alone.”It scoffs at her. “Master find better girl. Maybe go free witches from - ”“I said shut up! ”Bloom’s hand is out before she can even process it. The spell she lets loose is dark in color: a red deep enough to border on black. It hits Obscurum square in the chest and sends it flying across the ravine, through several tangles of branches and debris and towards a particularly jagged rock.There are crunches. Snaps of twigs and rustling from leaves. And then a sickly snap that echoes into the ravine. Its scream of horror instantly stops.The dark fledglings that followed Obscurum make an equally horrible noise. Some of them do what Bloom can only describe as ripple , and blink out of sight. The others scramble into the forest, little black shadows that get smaller and smaller until they disappear. The noise sends birds flying from tree branches and squirrels scurrying away.Bloom turns back to look across the ditch. Obscurum, mouth still open, stares back across at nothing. Its chest is still. Some sort of liquid, thick and black as night, begins pooling underneath it.The forest falls silent.There’s a Wishing Star. There’s a Wishing Star. There’s a way to fix this, there’s -A tree branch whips against the window, startling Bloom awake. She doesn’t know what time it is, but its dark enough to still be night. Shadows dance across the far wall, casting shapes right out of her nightmares.The grogginess clears enough for Bloom to remember where she is. Anxiety zips up her raw throat and pricks the corners of her eyes. She raises a hand to do…something. Spell the curtains closed. Light them on fire. Whatever will make the images stop.Something warm wraps around her middle and pulls her back down into the mattress. “It’s just the wind,” a deep voice murmurs in her ear. “No need to damage the room.”Bloom reaches for it, and finds herself with a fist full of a satiny material. Too nice to be the bedsheets. “No…has to stop…"The pillow on her back shifts like it's chuckling. “Don’t ruin the moment, sweetheart. Go back to sleep.”Some of the tears start to drip from her eyes. It makes her head hurt, and Bloom has a sudden flash of sitting in this very room, drinking. “T-the nightmares. I can’t.”“They’re just dreams,” the voice insists, “They won’t hurt you. Do you want my help to get rid of them?”“ Yes .”There’s a light chiming sound of a spell activating. Bloom’s muscles suddenly feel heavy, fog settling over her mind once again. She snuggles back into the pillow. “Mmm…yes…”The voice doesn’t reply, but Bloom feels something soft press to the temple of her head. “I…I did something horrible,” she says, turning her head towards the touch. She doesn’t know why she’s saying it; with the spell washing over her and her own exhaustion she can barely remember what it is. Master says -  She’s rewarded with another featherlight kiss. “I know. Go back to sleep, Bloom.”For some reason, she does.When the morning sun wakes Bloom up, she’s alone.There’s a note taped to her door - and all the others - from the ranger’s station. All nearby trails are closed while the state investigates an ‘animal attack of unknown origin.’

12.
Beach parties in winter are underrated. It’s never bitingly cold, especially if the sun is out. The tourists are long gone except for the surfers, and they only come out in the mornings.Bloom is shocked her father managed to keep the surprise party a surprise . He’s where her inability to lie originated. But Vanessa seems genuinely shocked when Mike uncovers her eyes, and is thrilled to see her sisters and everyone else who’d come to celebrate.It doesn’t stop Bloom from asking later on, though.“I mean, he’s so bad at secrets. And if you’re pretending for my sake -”Vanessa laughs and puts an arm around her shoulder. “I genuinely didn’t know! I thought we were going to lunch at that Italian cafe. And I thought you were going to be away until tonight?”The mention doesn’t make Bloom outwardly flinch, but she feels her smile freeze for a moment. “And miss your birthday? Are you crazy? I can see trees anytime.”“I’m glad you came, honey.” Vanessa’s smile turns a bit melancholy. “I know it’s been a hard week.”She can’t stop the bark of laughter that escapes her throat. “Yeah, no kidding.”Her mother gives her a look that makes Bloom feel guilty, though it’s almost an afterthought in her mind. “Sorry,” she manages, reaching up to squeeze Vanessa’s hand. “I’ll keep my moping to a minimum, promise.”“That’s not it, and you know it. I’m just worried about you.”“Mom, you don’t need to worry. I’m the savior of the universe, remember? I’ve got this.”The quip gets Vanessa to stop looking at her like a scared puppy, but there’s still some disbelief in her eyes. “Stella called this morning.”Bloom does freeze at that. “Why?”“To wish me a happy birthday, for one thing. But she also wanted to come by tonight and see me in person. She has some kind of gift.”Stella once told Bloom that Vanessa paid more attention to her than her own mother, and she wanted Vanessa to make the bouquet for her wedding, Solarian tradition be damned. Bloom wonders if things are different now that Luna and Radius are remarried.All Bloom can do is sigh. “You know that’s -”“Not entirely for my benefit?” Vanessa smirks. “Yes, I figured that one out myself. I told her no serious shop talk. Though I think she has some information from Miss Faragonda for you.”A cloud passes across the sun, covering the beach in shade. “Mom…maybe Faragonda kicking me out isn’t the worst thing to happen. There are other things I could be doing with my life.”“True. But I know my daughter, and you never give up just because things are hard.”Bloom rolls her eyes. “Yeah well, things are different now. No one trusts me to do anything right, so why should I bother helping them?”She doesn’t know how much her parents really know about the suspension, but assumes Faragonda (or Griselda if the headmistress was feeling particularly cowardly)  covered the basics.“Oh honey,” Vanessa sounds genuinely pained, and Bloom’s earlier guilt rears it head once more. “I know it’s hard. I know it’d be easy to just wave a wand and have everyone think the best of you, but there’s no place in the universe that works that way. Sometimes you just have to accept that other people are going to be wrong. And you have to live with that.”It’s the most honest advice anyone’s given Bloom in weeks. Vanessa’s right, of course: she’s always right. This isn’t the first time the Council has doubted her, and it certainly won’t be the last. But this is maybe the first time their doubts are accurate. And if they find out what’s happened…what she’s actually done now… Bloom looks back at Vanessa -And realizes it’s difficult to see her face in the growing darkness.Confused, Bloom turns her gaze upwards. The cloud from earlier has moved, but the sky is shifting; changing from bright to dark blue. Stars are slowly becoming visible, twinkling as the new and only source of light. Even the moon, hanging further away than usual, appears to be dulling in color.Beside her, Bloom feels her mother tense. “…It’s only two.” She stammers in disbelief. Bloom still checks her phone to confirm it. Around the beach, people are whispering to each other in shock, looking from the sky to their watches to each other and back again. Bloom sees her dad break away from a group of fellow firefighters and jog over to them.“Sargent Rhodes put in a call to the company in LA county,” Mike says, slightly out of breath. His eyes are wide. “It’s up there, too.”“And Drew,” Bloom’s Aunt Caroline pipes up from somewhere on her left. Her phone is held up to her ear, presumably talking to her husband. “He says the same thing is happening in St. Louis.”Vanessa is shaking her head again. “But that’s not possible. I-I mean it’s like…”“Like the sun’s gone out.” Bloom supplies. Phantom laughter rings in the back of her head, and she feels the palms of her hands heat up. “That asshole .”Because really, how dare he? Today of all days, after not speaking to her for weeks . When he had no problem showing his face before, breaking into her room, saving her from certain death and now…“Honey?”Bloom blinks, and sees her parents and several other people staring at her. Her fists are aglow with magic, the same deep red as when Obscurum -The deep red now associated with her magic, pulling from a new emotional source. She shakes it off and summons her transformation. Not her Cosmix, despite knowing she’s heading for space. Instead Enchantix morphs onto her body. Beautiful, deadly, and complete.“Get everyone off the beach and up to higher ground.” Bloom says to her father. “Make it a statewide alert if you have to. I don’t know how this is going to affect the tides.”“Bloom -"“I’m going to handle this. He did this to get to me.”“Should I call -”“ No ,” Bloom says, even though the ripple of the damn sun going out is so extreme half of Alfea probably knows it's happened already. Instead she steps forward and puts a hand on each of her parent’s shoulders. “I love you guys. So much. And no matter what happens, I will keep you, and this planet, safe. I promise .”Mike and Vanessa glance at each other, so quick someone else might have missed it. Bloom sees concern, questioning whether one of them should say something to her before it’s too late.Bloom ignores it. It doesn’t matter if they don’t believe her at the moment. They will .They don’t say anything, in the end. Instead Mike pulls her into a tight hug. “Be careful, kiddo.”“You come back here the second you can,” Vanessa says with the same nervous look on her face. She stares at Bloom like this is the last time she’s going to see her for a while.It’s like she knows. Maybe she does.“I will,” is all Bloom says, and leans over to kiss her cheek.“ Finally .”When Bloom steps out from her teleportation spell, she feels her Dragon Fire perk up like a flower receiving water after a hot week. It’s dark, despite the millions of stars twinkling in the sky around her. A giant shape looms above her - the extinguished sun. It flashes, for lack of a better term, desperately trying to reignite itself. In those flashes, Bloom catches sight of the dark fledglings swirling around it, sucking up the cosmic energy.And the man standing in front of it.Bloom sets her shoulders back as her eyes adjust to the lack of light. “Where have you been?”Baltor’s manic grin widens. “Waiting.”“You have better ways of getting my attention.”“I thought after your incident with the Council you’d want space away from me. That’s why I sent Obscurum to check on you.”“Obscurum is dead,” Bloom retorts, and it feels like she’s listening to herself speak from somewhere else. The lack of emotion in her voice is distantly strange. “But you already knew that.”He doesn’t bother to feign surprise. “The ripple of energy when you snuffed him out was impossible to ignore. I’ve had to work overtime to make up for the magic that was lost. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t proud. I always knew you had it in you.”The Winx Club doesn’t kill. Not usually, and certainly not because someone makes a snide comment about your life falling apart.Bloom isn’t the Winx Club though. Not anymore.“I didn’t come here for you to sing my praises,” she says, refocusing her mind. “Put the sun back.”Baltor raises a perfect eyebrow. “I think you can be a little more polite than - ”He doesn’t finish before Bloom lets a fireball loose, aiming for and perfectly hitting his face. The momentum sends him back several meters, legs flailing to get traction on a surface that isn’t there.When his head snaps back up, there’s a line of blood running from his nose to his mouth. Baltor meets Bloom’s gaze across the expanse, and runs his tongue up to clean the blood.She ignores the shiver that wracks her spine. “I’m not really in the mood to be polite.”“I see that.”“Put. It. Back.”“You care too much about that place,” Baltor says instead of answering her. “Its magic may be returning, but it's not at a level to be taken seriously.”“It’s not about magic. It’s my home . The only place that - ”“The only place that understands you,” he cuts off, voice dripping with sarcasm. “The only place you feel safe and loved and wanted . Spare me.”Baltor dodges the next onslaught of attacks Bloom sends his way. “Why don’t you tell me the truth, Bloom? Sway my heart with that can-do attitude.”“ Shut up! ”“There’s no rock to break my neck on out here!” She screams, almost audible over the roar of her own magic. It flows from her hands with no clear instruction, no filter, just the idea of destruction . It’s bright and huge and powerful. Bloom can feel Baltor pushing against it with his own energy; a magic she hasn’t directly challenged in years. It only makes her more upset. The barrage keeps up until Bloom has to stop for her own self-preservation. When the brightness of the spell dies down she expects to see a charred corpse, or at least an unconscious, smoldering man. His arms are covered in black soot from the fire, parts of his hair obviously singed. But Baltor’s still standing. A little winded, but unharmed.If Bloom were on a planet with gravity, she would have dropped to her knees. Even out in space she feels the strain of her wings, doing most of the work to keep her upright.Baltor stares at her for several long moments before nodding. “It suits you.”For a moment she’s underground strapped to a dais. She’s in Cloud Tower being praised by Griffin for her apparent hidden talent. She’s being questioned by the Council about where this new magic source came from. Avalon is - the fake Avalon is -Bloom looks down at her hands, glowing crimson. The fingertips of her gloves are burnt off, and that for some reason makes it all connect. Baltor’s current power source is cosmic: the energy from the stars themselves. Bloom’s is hatred.Light beats dark.Her wings do fail then. “…Is this what you wanted the whole time?”“Is what?”Bloom can’t look at him. “To just…take everything. Because if you did, congratulations. It worked. The Council thinks I’m your spy. My friends think I’ve betrayed them. My best friends think I’m unhinged. Miss Faragonda -” A bitter, unfamiliar laugh spouts up from her throat before she can stop it. “Miss Faragonda, who has no problem sending students to fix the universe’s problems and hides a witch’s rap sheet a mile long, kicked me out of Alfea. No one on Sparx cares. Neither do my teachers.“The number of people who support and love me unconditionally has dwindled down to a pathetic two , and I have maybe an hour to keep them from freezing to death on the only planet that expects nothing from me for being there. You go on about helping me or loving me in whatever fucked up way you work but Earth is everything ! Without it I’m going to lose everything - ”Baltor cuts Bloom’s rant off with his lips, crossing the distance so fast it’s nothing more than a flash in the corner of her eye. The kiss is so sudden and so fierce Bloom can’t comprehend it, and when she finally does, finds she has no strength to fight him off.She matches his fervor as best she can. It’s so intense it borders on painful, but it’s also been so long since she’s felt something the sensation is welcome. For the first time in what feels like eons, Bloom isn’t treated as unstable or delicate. She’s the same person she’s always been, going toe to toe with the most powerful wizard in the magical universe.And he is the one gripping onto her as though his life depends on it.“Not me…” Bloom finally makes out the words Baltor is saying, murmuring into her mouth between kisses.“Not…not what?” “Not me.” Baltor’s voice is fierce. “What must I do to make you understand? No matter what happens, you won’t lose me. Burn the dimension, freeze the Milky Way, kill civilization: you are never going to be alone again.”Bloom shivers again. “I don’t want to destroy the universe.”“Neither do I.” Baltor nips at her lips with his teeth. “I just want it to be…a bit more understanding. Don’t you feel the same?”Once, not very long ago, Bloom would have shoved him away. But it’s been a long few months, and she’s tired. Tired and so , so angry. And maybe even a little smarter. “…Maybe.”Her honesty is rewarded with another deep kiss, tongues and limbs intertwining. “Then help me. You need this. You need me .”“I need the sun back.”Baltor stops mid kiss. The satisfaction Bloom gets from it is delectable, especially when Baltor pulls away, pushing Bloom’s shoulders back with more force than necessary. “You didn’t listen to a word I said.”“Neither did you,” Bloom deadpans. “What did you think I’d do? Come up here and fall into your arms, ready to lay down my life and follow you without question after well and truly fucking me over?”“…Well I’m certainly not fucking you over the way I wanted.”She doesn’t give him the satisfaction of a response, instead reaching up to pull his hands from her shoulders. “I am so sick,” Bloom says after a moment. “Of people trying to manipulate and use me for their own goals, after doing nothing but give . The dimension thinks I’m some pawn that isn’t worth keeping, and why? Because a few greater powers thought you were worth saving. It’s cost me almost everything.”His eyes narrow at her, the slightest bit uncertain. “Is that why you came here? To get rid of me?”“No,” she replies simply. “It’s become glaringly obvious I can’t kill you. You’re like a cockroach. And it doesn’t solve my actual problem.”“And what would that be?”“That no matter what I do, what I say, or what company I keep, the universe doesn’t trust me. I need that to stop so I can get back to my old life.”A tension settles over them. Baltor doesn’t back up , per se, but Bloom can feel the beginnings of a shield spell settle around him. “How are you going to do that?”“I’m going to use the Wishing Star.”Said tension evaporates as Baltor barks out a laugh. “Now that is unexpected! What happened to the unwavering belief in your headmistress?” With me to guide her, we won’t have any issues .“She…made a mistake,” Bloom finally settles on, knowing full well it’s a lie.Baltor doesn’t point it out, either, instead letting his eyes graze over her with a look that’s still apprehensive, but also thoughtful. “Yes, it seems she did.”
Bloom is a sweet, caring girl. She will give you no reason to doubt her intentions.
“But that’s okay,” she finds herself saying instead. “Once this is over she’ll forget she made it in the first place.”“Hmm. That’s awfully…presumptuous of you, isn’t it?”At that, Bloom finally looks back in Baltor’s direction. His lips are turned up in a knowing smirk, as though he’s finally worked it all out. “Because that isn’t the only thing you’re counting on, is it? For this little plan to work, you’ll need to find the Wishing Star first.”She gives Baltor a pointed look. “You know where it is. And it has to be about ready to pass through the Magic Dimension, otherwise you wouldn’t be here right now.”The smirk widens. “And I’m just going to lead you to it, am I?”“That was your original plan. Why else target the star of a planet without enough magic to be taken seriously? You need my help.”Bloom lets herself drift closer, not enough to touch but so Baltor has nowhere to look but her face. His lack of a response - meaning she’s dead on with her guess - makes her nerves jump with excitement. It’s the strongest she’s felt in a long time and Arcadia above , how she’s missed it. “You need me , Baltor. Don’t you? Because in all of your taunting and leaving little clues it occurred to me: a power like that, made of starlight, probably requires a user with light magic.”His face goes blank, eyebrow twitching just enough to betray the anger under the surface. “…You’ve been reading.”“You know I have. You’ve watched me.”Baltor doesn’t argue. Bloom doesn’t see his hand before it wraps around her neck, pulling her to his chest in a strong grip. “…What is it you want, Bloom?” Baltor finally asks. There are no pet names, no hints of sarcasm or irony. He looks at her like an equal, someone worth taking seriously.She smirks lightly. “I want to make a deal.”“…I’m listening.”“You restart the sun, and lead me to the Wishing Star. In return, I help free you from whoever’s controlling you.”For a moment he looks surprised that she remembers. “What makes you think you stand a better chance of fighting them than I have?”“ I don’t. We do, though.”Baltor’s eyebrows knit together, considering her words. “It certainly sounds like I’m doing more for you. Saving your planet, giving you access to an all-powerful source of magic…”“Isn’t it worth your freedom?” Bloom bats her eyes at him, partially in mockery. “Never having to answer to anyone ever again? You know the Wishing Star is a long shot. But me…I’m a guarantee. The only person who’s ever defeated you single-handedly. Working with you. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?”Bloom watches his face as he considers it. “And when it’s over? What will we do?”She tilts her head thoughtfully. “I suppose if we haven’t killed each other by then, one of us will try.”There’s a pause, and Baltor laughs a genuine laugh. When his eyes open and meet hers, there’s a satisfaction in them. Something…prideful. “Very well, Bloom: we have a deal.”It makes her stomach churn, just for a moment. “Call off the darkness. Relight the sun.”He smirks and tilts his head closer. “Help me.”Baltor slips his hand into Bloom’s. She intertwines their fingers.It’s been years since Sparx’s restoration, since Daphne’s return to the living world, and in all that time Bloom hasn’t cast a spell with another Dragon Fire user. It’s almost a strange realization. But the feeling of her magic mixing with another ember of the Great Dragon’s is akin to touching a live wire. It’s painful, electric, a cacophony of power flowing through her veins without anything in place to keep her body intact.It’s amazing. She wants more.At some point, Baltor kisses her. Or maybe Bloom kisses him. It doesn’t matter. In that moment they are truly connected; through touch, through spells, through the Dragon Fire itself. Baltor has lied to her plenty of times throughout their relationship, but there’s one instance where he is - and has always been - right. They are bookends, matching pieces of the greatest ancient magic to ever exist. It’s a fact that can never be challenged or taken away.There’s a powerful whooshing noise. The darkness behind her eyes turns red, then orange, then blazing white as the sun’s fire engulfs them both.

13.
It starts out as a wink of light in the distance.“He was royalty, you know.”Bloom doesn’t turn around, but feels the broken pieces of her conscience seize up. “Who?”“Obscurum. He had a different name before. On Lumenia.”“…Argan.” Bloom supplies. She remembers Dorana mentioning it during the party on Andros. How the planet’s beloved prince had disappeared last year after researching dark magic. She remembers hearing stories of his love for robotics, and the very first mechanical enemy the Winx faced on Lumenia. She’d put the pieces together herself, found it almost comically obvious.She hadn’t said anything, though.“Argan, that was it.”Part of her feels empty, while the other feels like throwing up. “Are you going to tell them?”Baltor is suddenly at her side. “I think your personal guilt is punishment enough, don’t you?”It’s not a no, and he’s smart to keep that card in his hand. It could be the nail in her coffin; crowned princess Bloom of Sparx kills monarch of non-hostile star . The light is the size of a grain of sand. They’re in a different part of space, on the dark side of Omega. The stars here are different, constellations Bloom’s never seen before. Baltor knows them, though. For seventeen years they were the only things he could see at the edge of his vision, through an icy skylight.“You’ve made the right choice, Bloom.”She hasn’t. Or maybe she has. The more permanent choice, certainly. The one that will alter every single person in the universe for her own gain. But it’s necessary.Maybe.“How long have you been planning this?” She asks instead of answering. She’s not referring to tracking down the Wishing Star. Baltor knows, too. “Since the Magix Museum.”Figures. Finding her pretty would have been too simple. The light is the size of a drop of water.Bloom shakes her shoulders out, straightening her posture. “You certainly played the long game.”“Well, when brute force didn’t work, I realized I had to change strategy.” They haven’t adapted , Bloom. “…Smart.”Cool lips press against her cheek. “You played a fine game, sweetheart. Just a bit slow on the uptick.”“I didn’t lose to you.”“Of course not.”The light is the size of a coin, and growing fast. “Is that it?” Bloom asks.She knows she’s jumping from topic to topic. Baltor doesn’t push against it. “Yes. One hit should stop it in its tracks. A slow spell, even a fire net should work.”Bloom watches the light, slowly shifting in color from white to a warm gold. A thought occurs to her, so suddenly she feels her shoulders tense. “What if it doesn’t?”Baltor laughs, seemingly at her. “Don’t be ridiculous. You really think you lack the power to stop a star ?”“That’s not what I mean. What if it doesn’t let me make the wish? What if it stops me?”Because now, standing millions of miles away just looking at it, Bloom feels her Dragon Fire shudder. It whispers somewhere in the back of her mind. This power is not for you. You are not worthy. Turn back. She knows, at that moment, the Wishing Star isn’t going to listen to her. She also knows what will happen instead. There’s a failsafe, mentioned briefly in a Solarian encyclopedia. The star breaks into pieces, like the Mythix wands or the Codex. It’s for emergencies, and as far as anyone is aware, has only happened once in the written history of the universe. It had been a useless piece of trivia. Irrelevant to her quest.Until this moment.Baltor’s voice breaks through her thoughts, still calm and full of confidence. “Then we go after the pieces.”She turns to look at him, surprised. “You already know?”“Oh Bloom,” Baltor’s arm slithers around her waist and brings her close. “I always have a plan.“Now then…” As quickly as he’d pulled her in, Baltor turns Bloom back out to face the Wishing Star. “Are you ready?”She isn’t. She wants to run. She wants to scream. She wants her old life back. She wants to trade places with Obscurum’s rotting corpse, likely being dissected in a laboratory on Earth. She wants power. She wants to be in her dorm at Alfea laughing with her friends. She wants to be in Avalon’s class. She wants her parents. She wants Avalon dead like Obscurum so she never has to be reminded of Shadowhaunt again. She wants Baltor dead. She never wants to live another second without Baltor at her side. What would have happened, Bloom wonders, if all those months ago she’d told Flora the truth about what she felt. Would she be here now?Bloom doesn’t know who she is anymore. But she knows she wants the simplicity of her old life back, and the best way to do that is barrelling towards her. And maybe, when she asks the Wishing Star to change everyone in the Magic Dimension, it will be kind enough to change her, too. Or at least by the time she’s gathered all of its pieces when it laughs in her face, she’ll know what to do.The star grows in size, close enough for Bloom to make out its star-shaped headpiece. Despite the anxiousness in her chest, some magical core screaming at her to leave it alone, Bloom flies forward, raising a hand and letting magic build in the palm of her hand. She can almost hear Baltor’s hiss of satisfaction behind her.It’s at that moment Bloom realizes there was no avoiding this. This was always going to happen. She’s been doomed from the start.Slowly, she feels herself smile. And fires the spell.