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01
For weeks after the revelation of magic to the people of Earth, Bloom is forbidden from returning to the realm. There are duties to perform in Domino, and clean-up to be done in Magix -- and she is still a teacher at Alfea. After their six-week sabbatical there are midterm exams to mark and a whole lot of catch-up to play, which means they often get to spend afternoons in the faculty lounge with Avalon, who had graciously taken on the course (and re-branded it Magic Physiology) in their absence.
“I don’t understand why I’m not allowed back to Earth, though,” Bloom says one afternoon, as she reviews the readings from the Magical Reality Chamber with Avalon and Palladium and Tecna, who is literally and figuratively and magically plugged into the machine. “I mean, I know there’s a whole lot for me to do at Alfea, but why can’t I just drop in to Gardenia and say hello every now and then?”
“Don’t forget that you’re the Guardian Fairy of Domino,” Tecna adds, without looking up from her tablet.
Bloom shrugs; she’d been called out of a seminar only two days prior to deal with a particularly nasty infestation of fire-eating beetles. “I know, but --”
Palladium coughs, drawing Bloom and Tecna’s attention. “Let’s focus on the task at hand, girls,” he says. “Bloom, if you need to discuss the matter further, you may want to take it up with the Headmistress.”
They fail two first-years that evening, a record low for the school. The last few reports are finished up when a bell announces dinner; Palladium and Avalon excuse themselves to take the evening meal in their room, and Bloom says nothing about the thin blue chain, magical in nature, that is forming between of them.
02
“You’re awfully quiet tonight,” Flora says, as they dine at the staff table. “Is it something you want to talk about?”
Bloom shakes her head. “Just something Palladium said to me.” And something Palladium had done, as well. A year and a half later Avalon is still struggling to find his place in the school -- when a chimera wearing his skin had built so much of his reputation while he languished in Darkar’s prison -- but, in the end, he had found someone dear.
And hadn’t she? After all the ups and downs, she and Sky were still hanging onto one another, tenaciously, lovingly. Among the six of them, what a strange picture they drew of love: from Brandon and Stella’s deep and sensory connection, to Tecna and Timmy’s halting, awkward, but obvious attraction. And now, too, Bloom can see one end of a thin blue chain attached to Flora’s heart.
03
“I’m sorry, Bloom,” Faragonda says. “We should have been clear with you from the beginning, but the Council was -- worried, that you would head to Earth on your own if we had not kept you here. Your bravery and obstinate recklessness in ignoring orders that go against your heart have been wonderful assets in the past, but what is happening on Earth right now is not a matter you should meddle in.”
Bloom crosses and uncrosses her legs. She sits quiet and uncomfortable in the Headmistress' office, much like a student being chastised for a minor offense; Griselda places a hand on her shoulder. “What’s happening on Earth?”
“The magic is back, as you know.” Faragonda clasps her hands behind her back and turns towards the window, looking out towards the woods and the curve of the planet beyond. Magix is a small planet whose horizon dips dramatically, and Bloom still gets vertigo if she thinks too much on it. “Earth is reclaiming its rightful place in the Magic Dimension -- but it has been eight hundred years since the disappearance of magic on Earth. We need to proceed with caution, lest we throw the delicate scales of belief and disbelief off-balance.”
“But Roxy believed,” Bloom says, plaintively.
“Roxy saw six fairies before her eyes, and even then, it took much convincing to open her eyes to the reality before her. And you and Roxy are young, Bloom. Imagine the struggles of those who have spent their whole lives with the belief -- the knowledge -- that magic doesn’t exist.”
“There’s unrest.”
“Quite a bit. The Earth-folk are angry and confused. But systems of magic forces whole planets to specialize -- think of Zenith’s magitechnology, or Lynphea’s natural magic -- while Earth, in the absence of magic, has been forced to diversify. We have never had such a beautifully preserved example of the development of nonmagic natural sciences. It’s going to take a lot of, well, re-education to have your people understand.”
Bloom doesn’t understand. “Are Mike and Vanessa okay?”
“I’ve been told, yes. They’re under the care of Morgana.”
“Can I talk to them?”
“I suppose we could arrange that.”
There is a chain wrapped around Faragonda’s wrist.
04
On her way back to the faculty lounge, Bloom runs headfirst into Avalon. He drops his armload of books, and she apologizes as she helps him collect his things.
“No need to apologize,” Avalon says as she hands him the last book, a tome titled De rerum natura. “Ah, you might know about that one. Have you heard of a man from Earth named Lucretius?”
“Um, no,” Bloom says. “To be honest, there’s a lot about Earth I don’t know. Faragonda said something about --”
“-- Diversity? Ah, of course. In Magi-Philosophy we sometimes refer to the concept as ‘essentialism’, the tendency among magic-empowered realms to reduce their philosophical output to a single element. But tell me Bloom, what are your thoughts on the matter of Earth’s essentialism? The Council is considering inviting you to the table with regards to this issue.”
Bloom can’t help but think of Melody, where even the whales joined in the song. “I don’t know, Professor. To be honest, I’m kind of -- distracted by other things, at the moment.”
Avalon strokes his chin with a free hand. “Faragonda mentioned that achieving Believix on Earth may have opened a new channel in you, giving you access to a power that expresses the unique combination of Sparks and Earth. Give it a thought. That combination may give us some insight into Earth’s essential magic, and would help us greatly to proceed.”
They treat Earth like some sort of terrarium, like a thought experiment or a science project. The thought follows Bloom all the way back to her room.
05
In Bloom still burns the living flame that sparked the beginning of the universe, the Alpha and Omega that set the stars alight; and sometimes, if she lets her mind wander, she can sense the chains that connect them all to the source of their magic. On such a night she feels Musa, out on her porch singing a love song; and she feels Flora, who is writing poetry; and she feels Tecna, who has hard-wired herself to her computer, and is probing nerve endings on a terminal in Red Fountain; and she feels Stella’s conspicuous absence, having left for a midnight jet into the woods with Brandon; and she feels Aisha, who is having another nightmare.
Bloom can’t sleep, despite the insistence of her Earth-parents that they are okay, that the unrest is mostly speeches and newspapers and internet flame wars and not out on Gardenia’s streets. She is sitting on the roof of the dorm wing, watching Magix’s moons and wondering if she yearns for the time before she knew about magic.
A Levi-Bike trails a fume of glowing magic dust as it drops down to her. As it powers down, Sky takes off his helmet and he is smiling the smile of someone brought high by young love, and her heart beats a little faster.
“Hi,” she says, forcing the song of the stars and their echoes through an old, old universe into a single syllable.
“Hi yourself,” Sky returns, placing the helmet and his gloves next to the bike. “Timmy told me you’d be here.”
Bloom doesn’t probe, but she allows Sky to sit next to her and place his arm around her, and her thoughts return to Magix’s moons. The thought of a sky above and a Sky beside cause her to chuckle, and when he asks, she tells him.
He smiles. “Not the first time I’ve heard that one. So, Bloom, which Sky do you prefer?”
“You, of course,” she says, but for a moment she finds herself thinking of the first time she flew through the air -- that dizzying, delightful feeling of one’s stomach lifting, and the knowledge that she was doing something her body had always wanted to do. Then she feels bad for the little white lie, and tells him about the feeling of flying. He listens in rapt attention, pulling himself closer.
There is a chain attached to her own heart, and she knows: hers is a blue flame, a healing light, harbinger of warm love. Sparks is many things, but first and foremost it is a realm of fire -- red fire. Earth’s essential element, then --
“Of course,” Bloom murmurs, suddenly. “Blue -- that much was obvious. It’s a blue planet. But these chains, they link --”
“Hm?” Sky has his chin tilted down. One end of her chain is attached to him, and Bloom’s heart leaps up and out, manifests itself as a million little flames like candles lighting up the air.
06
“ -- Stories,” Daphne says, floating before her in a dream. “There’s very little literature about Earth -- mostly in our version of what Earth-folk would call a fairy tale -- but yes, I can see that.”
Bloom nods. “I thought it was love, for a while. But when the Wizards of the Black Circle got rid of the fairies, the magic had to go somewhere, right? That’s why everyone on Earth tells stories, because it’s part of the magic that keeps our hearts alive. And there are so many stories about fairies...”
Echoing in the dream, Bloom hears herself shout Bloom, fairy of stories, and it feels wonderful. Reminds her of the first time she wrote ‘Winx Club’ in the dirt -- scribbling the affirmation of something she already knew, breathing life into the world, doing what her magic always wanted her to do: create, inspire, share, love.
07
Selina was still on Earth, then, breathing in new life from old magic, and the Legendarium is writing itself in her hands.
Stories, indeed.
We are a narrative species.
Roger Rosenblatt, “I Am Writing Blindly”