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Bloom’s been to restaurants in Magix before, but there’s something so inherently disappointing about how normal they are that she still deflates as their waiter guides them to a private booth upstairs. She doesn’t think it helps that it’s a stuffy, high-class place either - the few non-humans she sees are still capable of being easily accommodated and everyone is dressed to the nines. There are no floating dishes or dancing mops - just regular waiters bustling back and forth and a man playing soothing piano music that has Musa sneering in a corner.
She and the girls stick out like a sore thumb; they’ve made the effort to kind of dress up, but none of them are quite at the level of black-tux-and-pearls like their fellow diners. Bloom thinks their waiter breathes a sigh of relief when they file into the private booth Stella’s reserved for them - screened in and charmed for privacy - and, thus, out of view of the other patrons.
The booth is uncomfortably cramped if only because of its awkward design; the booth itself brackets three walls in a U shape with a similarly shaped table set in the middle. There’s just enough room to stand between the decorative door and the table, assuming one is a literal stick. But - there’s enough room for all of them to file in and sit comfortably shoulder-to-shoulder and leave three spots open to Bloom’s left.
“How late are they gonna be?” Musa asks, as soon as the door to their little room closes behind the waiter - fleeing with the promise of water upon his return. Flora frowns at her.
“We’re here early.”
“I feel like the gravity of this situation should warrant a little bit of getting their asses in gear.” Musa growls, but - she’s mostly just pissed the only time that worked for all of them was during her private practice. Tecna’s apparently promised to let her make up for it and is crashing with Stella tonight, but Musa’s still grouchy about it.
“Pretty sure they think this is a trap too, so.” Bloom says, and Stella lets out a humpf.
“Rude.”
“Stel, we think this is a trap.” Flora reprimands, and Bloom can’t help her giggle.
“Timmy says Riven is requesting leftovers.” Tecna says. Her eyes are flickering and her attention zeroed in on the device in her hand, but she’s got her head tilted slightly towards them and a little smile on her lips - it’s the little things like that that indicate whether or not she’s paying attention. Tecna’s incapable of not multi-tasking. It’s her equivalent of fidgeting, Bloom thinks, and she’s been doing it a lot.
“Tell him to tell Riven to tell his girlfriend that.” Musa fires back.
“Bold of him to assume there’ll be any leftovers.” Stella says, and Bloom can’t help the slightly too-loud laugh that tears out of her.
She’s unsure if it’s a fairy thing, or if Alfea also screens its students for their physical appearance – privately, she thinks it’s a little bit of both – but the overwhelming majority of her fellow students are, well. Thin. Fairies are proportioned slightly differently from humans, of course, and flying apparently burns a ridiculous amount of calories – not that Bloom would know, she hasn’t manifested them yet – but it’s just…a little too common to be natural. Bloom herself, as she has been constantly reminded by every single one of her fucking classmates, still looks pretty human, which means even her skinny ass is at least properly proportioned.
It makes eating a little bit of a nightmare. Brings back all of her middle and high school anxieties. But, thus far at least, there’s been nothing to worry about. Her suitemates are healthy and they eat – hell, Stella regularly eats enough for four people at a meal. None of them exercise religiously or count calories, but every time they say something to reinforce that, Bloom still gets a kind of giddy rush of relief and surprise.
“Well, do you have any recommendations? I’ve never eaten here before.” Flora asks. There’s a shimmer on the tabletop beneath their various hands and elbows, and Bloom jolts a little in her seat as menus appear beneath them.
She’s a little put out that the first magical-ish thing to happen is…that. But she picks hers up curiously all the same.
Stella’s quick to give a rundown of each dish, because the menu is. Incomprehensible. All weird Magix-based lingo for stuff even Tecna can’t parse out, not that she tries. Stella, thankfully, doesn’t really bother with the name so much as the make-up of said dish, and by the time the door to their private booth slides open again they are all white-knuckled gripping their menus with their own choices picked out.
Icy looks entirely unimpressed.
“Come now. We haven’t even done anything yet. Why do you look so afraid?”
“You try ordering off this menu. Fucking batshit, is what it is.” Musa snorts, one arm slung around Bloom’s shoulders and so intentionally casual that she’s bordering on tense. But Icy slides in beside Bloom, and Darcy and Stormy slide in after her. Darcy clears her throat after sitting; she looks outright constipated.
“I’ve been told I owe you an apology. I didn’t realize it would be a Whole Thing when I told you.”
“Oh no, honey, that was enough to damn near put you back in my good book! Riv just doesn’t handle conflict well!” Stella chirps with a wave of her hand, and Darcy looks even more pained.
“No corpses here?” Stormy asks, and all eyes swing to Bloom. She winces a little.
“Not yet. But uh. I have no control over what happens if he sets foot on Earth. My great-grandmother will claw herself right out of her grave to kill him.”
“Oh please tell us your family drama, I’ve had about enough of mine to last a year.” Tecna breathes, and she drops her menu long enough to reach over the table and grab at Bloom’s hands.
“I thought the dead just. Died on Earth.” Stormy asks, which is about as much of an agreement as she’s going to give. Icy looks intrigued too. Which.
She’s such a hyporcite. Bloom’s known Stormy’s been telling her all about their sessions, but Icy still insists she wants nothing to do with them over the phone. Even now she’s got a mask of pure indifference slapped on, or would if she could keep her perfectly-arched eyebrow down, for fuck’s sake -
“Infidelity is a much bigger deal on Earth. Like. It happens all the time where I’m from, but depending on the circumstances it’s still punishable by law. And my um, Great-Gran…Family legend says she killed her ex-husband when he cheated on her, which. I believe. Her parents disowned her for divorcing him. Her siblings refused to contact her ‘till she took him back. So uh, she just upped and moved across the country with her kids. For my own sanity I have to believe she’d consider me fine because I didn’t actually know he was engaged but I’m pretty sure that forgiveness comes at the cost of his life, which. I am all for.”
Tecna lets go of Bloom’s hands and mouths thank you, her phone very visibly turned face-down on the table beside her. Her parents have been...Bloom doesn’t want to call it spamming because finding out your daughter has inherited a legacy of outright murder, treason, and corruption would stress the hell out of any parent, but. Tecna’s actually been locking the damn thing in the entertainment center - out in the common room - before bed each night. The buzzing still keeps her up.
“The fuck you mean it’s punishable by law?” Musa asks, and Stormy - starts nodding. Bloom groans and slides face-down onto the table.
The waiter returns to save them from any further discussion, mostly because he lets out a sound like a dying animal when he sees the witches and physically flinches. Icy orders what Bloom does; Darcy rattles off something Bloom’s never heard of before and Stormy copies Musa. The minute the waiter flees, Icy rounds on Stella.
“Will he keep quiet?”
“If he values his job, yes.” Stella says dismissively. The witches don’t look convinced, exactly, but they don’t push it either, which is fantastic because Stella slams her hands down on the table and rockets to her feet without so much as pausing to breathe.
“Bloom vouched for you so what the fuck do you want with my ring.”
“Oh, wow.” Darcy says, and Bloom groans again. She’s still got one cheek mushed against the table.
“Just like that.” Icy sounds unimpressed. Bloom sits up and smirks at her, though, because underneath all that, Icy sounds stunned.
“If I have to sit through detention with Griselda one more time - we’re in fucking college, why do they have detention - because of you, I will break into Cloud Tower and set off a supernova in your dorm room.” Stella replies.
“The fuck kinda detention you serving at Alfea?” Stormy demands. Tecna and Musa both snort in time with each other.
Griselda herself is a nightmare, but she’s great at detentions. She’s strict and uptight and rigid when it comes to rules, but mostly that means she’s determined that they learn things rather than just do busy work. And she seems to understand that the detentions themselves aren’t their fault, but the witches’ - even if she doesn’t challenge Faragonda’s rulings on them. So, Griselda’s taught them to throw proper punches and to mix their own cleaner out of bits and bobs leftover from alchemy class, and a whole list of even more surprisingly useful things.
Faragonda is the problem.
“Ms. Faragonda thinks she’s coming from a good place.” Flora says strategically, and Musa throws her head back and cackles because that is the closest to a fuck you they have ever heard from Flora.
The witches exchange Looks, and then Icy makes eye contact with Bloom and scowls, and Bloom does her best to bite back her own grin.
“Ever heard of the Dragon Fire?” Icy asks after a moment.
“No.” Bloom deadpans, and her friends all shake their heads - except Stella, who squints a little.
“Long long ago the Great Dragon created existence itself - all the homeworlds, all the dimensions, all life, all magic – in a great burst of her power. And when her labors were complete, she chose a particular planet as her resting place and went to sleep.” Icy recites the story as if she’s bored. Stella squints harder. Bloom gasps.
“The Big Bang?”
“That is what Earth calls it, yes.”
“How in the fuck does a planet without magic know about this?” Musa objects, and Bloom’s - vibrating. A little. She can smell smoke - Flora stands up and leans over the table to pat at her head, but Bloom can’t even bring herself to try and reign it in.
“You’re telling me the Big Bang was a dragon and the dragon’s female and the dragon is god? God is a dragon?! God is a female dragon?!”
Stella shoots herself across the table, diving under Flora’s outstretched arms, and grabs Bloom’s hands.
“Bloom, sweetie, you can tell your mom later but right now we need to focus, okay?”
“Someone explain this to me.” Darcy demands, and she looks - fascinated. Bloom can’t even think up a proper response - she lets out a sound that’s more laugh than anything else, and then Musa wiggles underneath Stella so they can switch places and Stella’s arms fall like a vice around her.
“Earth’s sexist and very into religion, what you just said would quite literally cause the planet to implode, Bloom, I swear on my fucking wings I will strangle you.”
“We have to go back to this.” She demands, and Stormy nods so fiercely her hair bounces.
“…Right. The Great Dragon disappeared. Left behind her power, though, which became known as the Dragon Flame. That particular power is…I suppose you could call it a family heirloom of ours. The Ring of Solaria was forged in it, and therefore bears a connection to the rest of the power. We get the ring, we use the connection, we recover what is ours.”
“How the fuck is god a family heirloom?” Bloom asks before anyone else can say anything, and Tecna heaves out a sigh. Icy rolls her eyes, but Stormy looks nearly offended.
“Our ancestors put in all the work to get it. By right of conquest, it’s ours. And since nobody else has had it since - family heirloom. Property. Earth has that, I know it does.”
“I mean yeah but typically thieves don’t get property rights.” She deadpans. She knows it’ll be offensive, she intends it to be offensive, Stormy takes offense. Before they can start arguing, however, Stella squeezes Bloom even tighter and pointedly clears her throat. Bloom cranes her head around, which really only serves to mash her nose into Stella’s cheek. Stella does not back off.
She’s gotten clingier since the whole treason thing. Bloom’s not really complaining; she thinks it’s a good thing for Tecna and Flora. Tecna because distraction, Flora because she needs physical reassurance in a way the rest of them don’t and unfortunately Stella’s the only one who picks up on that regularly enough to do anything about it.
“Right, well, the Ring doesn’t have it, so you’re all stupid and your plan will fail. Do you have some sort of sensing spell or something?”
“Rude. And duh.” Darcy says primly back, and Bloom wheezes when Stella lets her go. If she scoots closer to Icy, no one has to know.
There’s a chime - Stella’s ring, clattering onto the table before them.
“It’s clearly picking up traces. Not an active, ongoing connection. But go ahead.”
“That’s surprisingly big of you, Stella.” Flora says approvingly, and Stella shoots her a dirty look.
“No, it’s practical. We’re dealing with Tecna’s family drama this week, and the boys. And next week is my mandatory call to my parents! I have enough shit going on, I refuse to put up with some idiot treasure-hunters breaking into my dorm room to steal my goddamn inheritance any longer. And Bloom said it would be fine, and we trust her.” Stella adds, and.
“Aww, Stel.”
Stormy makes a gagging sound.
“Don’t forget the other issue.” Flora says primly, and they all fall silent. Bloom can feel Icy leaning around her to stare at Flora.
“What other issue.”
“Oh, right. No, cast your spell thing before the waiter gets here. That can wait until after we eat!” Stella dismisses, and. Bloom whips herself back around to watch, because witch magic.
“I don’t like the look on your face.” Icy says flatly. Bloom shrugs.
“I’m not going to try and copy the spell.”
“You can’t, it’s coven-bound.”
“I want it noted that I have follow-up questions for later.” Bloom replies, and she can’t help the grin pulling at her lips. Icy rolls her eyes again, and then pulls her hands up in front of her chest. Darcy and Stormy do the same, and there’s - a pull.
Professor Palladium likes to talk about magic as a force. Fairies push it out into the word, manifest it in various ways. Witches do it differently, that’s a given, but this is something even more other, in a way Bloom can’t really put a finger on.
It’s not that they’re drawing on the energies around them. It’s - it’s like the three are pulling something out of themselves.
And.
She thinks they are.
Fairy magic is often accompanied by a burst of light, and sparkles, and glitter, sometimes, which is the worst. Excess, she’s been told. Witch magic is more utilitarian; the space between Icy’s hands darken and blossom into the same navy-black shade she prefers. And then there is a crystal floating there.
It’s carved. Diamond, maybe, but it looks more like ice than anything else. Darcy and Stormy each have one too, but theirs are colored differently, Darcy’s like amethyst and Stormy’s like ruby. Bloom reaches over and catches Stella’s hands before Stella can try and touch one; pretty they may be, they bear a kind of weight that sits uncomfortably on her senses. Not malice, exactly, because that implies intent, but…
“What are those?” Musa asks curiously. Darcy cracks open one eye to scowl at her, and gestures with a hand. Stormy and Icy follow suit, and within a few moments the crystals are rotating in a vaguely triangular shape above Stella’s ring.
“The Whisperian Crystals. Artifacts, like your ring, passed down through particularly powerful bloodlines. They only choose witches worthy of them.” There’s something almost reverent in Icy’s voice. Icy snaps her fingers and purple energy crackles - silently, though, for all it looks like lightning - between the crystals. Darcy starts chanting something, mumbled and hushed under her breath. Bloom’s unsure if it’s just to keep them from hearing or if it’s maybe not at all magic related, but Stella’s ring starts glowing orange, so. There’s that.
“You seem very chill about this, Stel.” Musa notes. Stella immediately waves a hand at her.
“The Ring is entirely celestial. There’s no weird ancient magical sources of power lingering in it, if there ever were. I’d know. Celestial power is jealous. There’s a reason I do so poorly in adaptive magics.”
“That reason is that you don’t study.” Tecna says coolly, and Stella makes a face at her. Bloom hardly notices; Icy has reached out and - pulls, again. The orange light spirals off Stella’s ring in slow, lazy loops, and then just…fades into thin air.
“What the fuck.” Stormy breathes, and then the crystals wink out of existence and the ring clatters back onto the table. Stella eyes it for a moment before very slowly reaching over and scooping it up.
“I take it that the spell didn’t work.”
“Here I thought we’d be saving ourselves work.” Darcy growls, growls, and Stormy groans and flings herself back so violently she nearly clocks Darcy in the chest with an arm. Icy remains perfectly expressionless, sharp and edged.
“We know the Flame is in Alfea. The whole fucking reason we sought out the Ring is because it is literally the only artifact in all of Magix that has a connection to it. And the ring has been in close proximity to it before, recently. Any connection between the two has eroded, though - your planet is jealous, Princess.”
The last is almost a warning, Bloom thinks, and that’s - sweet. She appreciates it, not that she can say so. She’s -
She freezes.
Looks up. Meets the girls’ gazes.
“How much do you want to bet…”
Tecna pushes herself to her feet.
“Excuse me, I need to find a lavatory I can scream in.” She says sweetly, and then flings open the door to their booth. There’s a startled eep as she stalks out, which is probably for the best because no one says anything when the waiter inches his way back inside, even if the witches are trying to bore holes through Bloom’s skull with their glares.
The bathrooms must be charmed against noise, because they don’t hear anything like muffled screaming. Tecna returns and slides into her seat as the last dish and glass are set down. There’s not really room for it all on the table, but Flora waves a hand and everybody’s cups start floating, so that helps.
Stormy checks the door after the waiter leaves.
“What do you know about the Flame.” Icy hisses, and jabs Bloom in her side, and Bloom jumps halfway into Stella’s lap before -
“Don’t do that! Icy, I’m ticklish, you asshole!”
“You accidentally helped Bloom uncover a vast government conspiracy that has murdered at least one fairy and covered up actual literal acts of war committed against at least one homeworld.” Musa chirps. Brightly.
“We don’t actually know if it’s government. But Alfea definitely. So if you’re saying the missing power of creation is in Alfea, it’s probably related.” Bloom says, and.
Stormy’s fork clatters to her plate.
“Are you serious?”
Flora shrugs, hesitantly and visibly amused.
“Surprise!”