Chapter Text
“Wait, Musa, I can - “
Too fucking late. Musa kicks in the door to Bloom and Flora’s shared room with a stomp hard enough to shake the whole door frame. The door itself slams against the wall - Flora learned in like the first hour of moving in not to put plants near the door - to reveal, surprise surprise, an empty room.
Bloom’s bed is still mussed; blankets and sheets wadded up and thrown off, one pillow slouched sadly on the floor and the other half-eaten by the crack between the bed and the wall.
Her backpack is untouched at its foot; her textbooks are still in a veritable mountain of a stack next to her nightstand. The only sign that Bloom is actually gone, other than, y’know, her general lack of presence, is that those boots she traded a box of Earth gummies to Stormy for are gone.
Kiko bounces his way over to her feet, escaping a little nest he’d been flopped in made of Bloom’s discarded clothes. Musa sighs and scoops the rabbit up.
“She ain’t here.”
“I could have told you that.” Tecna says disapprovingly. Three heads swivel in her direction; Tecna doesn’t bother with snark in the same way the rest of them do. Tecna waves a hand and a screen pixelates into existence in front of them. Musa tilts her head, trying to decipher the bleeping dot - Bloom? - and the squiggles she’s suddenly presented with.
“A map - she’s in Cloud Tower?” Flora sounds pissed. Musa has to hide her automatic eye roll in Kiko’s fur.
Frankly, she’s surprised it took this long. The faculty had been quick to stereotype Musa as the rebel in their little club, but Musa’s never challenged rules. Just outright ignored them. Bloom is the one who’s all fight, the one who has had to be brave and furious.
“How are you…?” Stella starts, eyes narrowed.
“She took her phone with her.” Tecna says quietly, and waves the display away. It’s a handy bit of magic she’s been working on in her spare time, and Musa’s proud to see how far it’s come - fairy magic won’t allow her to create screens like that out of nothing. Witch magic, on the other hand…
Griselda has been cornering them on and off all morning, asking after Bloom. She’s the only faculty member who noticed the Earth fairy’s absence, which is more of a relief than a concern - Musa isn’t blind, and she’s been feeling Faragonda’s eyes on them like a goddamn mosquito since the year started. They’re already under scrutiny, and all the questions Bloom asked at the start of the year probably put her on Faragonda’s radar more than her origins did.
And Musa knows intimately what happens to those who ask too many questions.
But Griselda means well, and actually likes Bloom.
“Okay look. Griselda’s only gonna take us saying Bloom’s sleeping unchallenged so long, and we kinda need to produce some evidence of life by dinner. Tecna, will you try calling her?”
“I’ve been dialing her since we got back from class. She’s not picking up.” Tecna responds promptly. She waves her own phone at them as evidence.
This, of course, means that they have to go get her and drag her back. Sneaking out won’t be a problem - Musa has more experience sneaking in and out of places than she does legitimately entering them, after all - but they cannot all just disappear when there is already at least one faculty member on their asses.
Musa tries, she really does, to bite back the grin trying to work its way across her face.
“Since Stella’s the only one with acting skills…”
“You are literally a performer!” Stella shrieks, and Kiko hurtles his little body out of her arms at the sound; Flora dives to catch him before the rabbit can hurt himself.
“I sing, I don’t act.” Musa fires back.
It’s a familiar argument - since Stella has declared herself Musa’s manager, it’s happened at least once a month. Stella is used to the theatricality of public life, to putting on airs and faces and engaging with strangers. Musa is too - but her music is not politics, not in the way her father so desperately wishes it would be.
Her entire life has been consumed by that performance, and she is not an actor. No one, no matter how dearly they hold her music to their hearts, is entitled to so much as her favorite color. She does not have a persona, a public image. The world gets her music. Nothing else. Not ever again.
And Stella respects that, even if they argue about it. Stella’s sharp, even if she pretends not to be, and Musa has no illusions that the princess has picked up on the something else behind Musa’s refusal to back down. Stella just digs because she doesn’t know why, and thus cannot effectively help. One day, when Stella’s not battling her own fucking father for control over her own fucking throne, Musa might tell her.
“Musa’s right, sweetie. You are the best liar out of all of us.”
And Flora’s the first to support her - Musa cackles outright and tosses herself over the back of the couch, straight onto Tecna’s lap, before Stella can start swatting.
“You’re a traitor.” Stella growls. Flora giggles something too high-pitched and startled to be audible.
It isn’t that any of them want to exclude Stella, or enjoy leaving her out of things - to the contrary. But Stella is alway so delightfully defensive about all the more improper behavior and skills she’s collected over the years, even those she’s refined to a sharp point. It’s instinct, of course - a denial born out of the necessity of survival. Musa’s familiar with it. Flora, she thinks, might be too.
The sooner they can get Stella to stop blunting herself for others, the healthier and happier she’ll be, though.
There’s a cool, too-hard hand on her face, and Musa thumps to the floor.
“We’ll go get Bloom. Stella can cover for us. If she’s gotten herself into something, I’ll text you and say we’re going into Magix for dinner and didn’t want to wake you.”
Tec must be worried, she thinks. She sounds half-distracted, isn’t even engaging with the argument or another option. Stella looks at her worriedly, but sighs. Explosively, dramatically.
“Only if you bring back actual food.”
“I can summon some kick ass traditional Harmonix spread!” Musa offers, and nearly salivates at the thought alone. She hasn’t had a proper meal in far too long - Harmonix cuisine is meant to be eaten communally, and it isn’t like she’s had anyone to eat it with in years. That’s changed, now, of course, but -
She forces herself away from those sad thoughts in time to wince as Stella visibly, literally, brightens. Musa really needs to start carrying sunglasses with her.
“We should have meal nights like that! We could share our homeworld’s cuisine with everybody!”
“That would be lovely, but I suggest we stop wasting time.” Tecna sounds genuinely amused, which is sweet. Musa had prepped long and hard to deal with a roommate incapable of emoting, and frankly had expected the worst. But Tecna’s heritage isn’t just Zenith’s logic and reason - her Papa is an immigrant to Zenith. Tecna claims a bit of him, of her family, every time she lets passion bleed into her tone or hides a smile or bites back her fury. It’s something tangible to hold onto, when holoscreens and voice calls can only go so far.
It’s a little ironic, Musa thinks, that she finds her friends at Alfea to be so much more honest and open than those back home, then those native to the planet most known for its authenticity.
They leave Stella cursing the mess in Bloom and Flora’s room as if she has a leg to stand on, shoving discarded clothing under blankets and rearranging pillows into the approximate shape of a fairy. Musa casts a silencing spell and a misdirection charm, and Tecna beelines for the bowels of Alfea, where, she insists, Cloud Tower has tunneled in. One of her cousins told her, she says, an upperclassman Musa hasn’t even seen before.
It’s heartening. The upperclassmen from Harmonix who try and bother her are of the more infuriating variety, the kind that carry her father’s name on their tongue and all that entails. Luckily hanging out with the weird Earth girl and the bratty Solarian Princess and a Zenith fairy have given Musa a kind of buffer; she’s undesirable by association. It’s fantastic.
They encounter no complications in reaching the basement, nor in finding what Tecna insists is the proper tunnel. Nothing happens when they enter it, or when they start walking. It’s one of, if not the, most anticlimactic breakouts Musa’s ever been involved in.
They’ve been walking for about ten minutes when she feels a questioning hum roll out beneath their feet, and knows they’ve finally crossed over into Cloud Tower itself. She’s gotta bounce forward and hook an arm through Flora’s and grab Tecna’s hand before her friends can keep going, though.
“Don’t be rude, Darcy will never let us hear the end of it!” She hisses. Flora blinks up at her blankly, but Tecna lets out a sharp little oh and her whole face goes a pale pink - lucky Zenith asshole that she is, she doesn’t turn the same conspicuous shade of red Musa or Bloom or Stella do in embarrassment.
Tecna shuffles them all over to the nearest wall and presses her hand against it. Musa leans into her, curious - she has no idea what’s going on. Tecna’s got the most experience dealing with sentient non-humans, but Mother doesn’t have a physical form and Cloud Tower does. It’s interesting to see her be so unphased by the difference; Musa wouldn’t have had a clue where to start.
“We are sorry for our intrusion, Cloud Tower. And I apologize for our rudeness. We weren’t expecting to enter you proper until we reached the tower itself….although I suppose that we are within you now…”
“We’ve gotta get Bloom back to Alfea before she gets us all in trouble. Can you please tell us where Stormy or Darcy or Icy are?” Musa adds.
“Why do we need…?”
“They let us know when they break into Alfea, it’d be rude to not do the same.” Flora says promptly, primly. There’s a rumble beneath their feet, vibrating the same way a laugh does, and the stone beneath Tecna’s outstretched hand is wood.
Musa blinks. Tecna shoves the door open.
An entire goddamn class stares back at them.
“Ah.” Tecna says. Flora sighs. Musa takes advantage of the moment to put put her hands on Tecna’s shoulders and hoist herself up into the air. It takes only a second of searching before she spots Darcy planting her face on her desk and Stormy perking right up in at the back of the classroom. Musa raises a hand and waves, but Stormy is already bounding towards them. Her professor lets out a sound of protest, which Stormy ignores.
Darcy does not - she flaps a hand at the professor and the woman goes slack-jawed and blank-eyed.
“Enjoy your free period.” Darcy says coolly to her classmates, all of them whispering and staring.
Musa’s never considered herself a daredevil, not really, and this all but proves it - she’s no issues with individual witches but to be standing in their home turf, interrupting their class, with all those eyes turned onto her and her girls is -
If it weren’t for Stormy’s obvious favor, Musa doubts she’d still have legs on which to stand.
“Yo, Stormy, next time we go out I owe you a drink.” She says, lowering herself back to the flagstones. Tecna is frowning at Darcy; Flora is smiling politely to cover her nerves. Stormy grins and opens her mouth to speak, but Tecna interrupts.
“Icy isn’t with you?”
Both witches freeze, and then trade wide-eyed looks as the classroom door shuts behind them.
Darcy takes a deep breath.
“Okay. Okay. Nobody say a fucking word. We’ll go to our room. And then we can all talk.” Darcy sounds equal parts pissed and equal parts panicky, which -
“Are they alright?” Flora asks softly, voice pitched low despite her urgency. Musa latches onto Tecna’s closest arm.
Stormy is far too easy to read to be a comfort.
Darcy turns without answering and starts stalking down the hall; Stormy grabs Musa’s and Flora’s wrists and starts jogging after her. They walk in an increasingly tense silence down a literal maze of turns, and then Darcy stops in front of a door seemingly at random.
She leads them into what is obviously the witches’ living quarters. The room is set up like a half-moon, three beds and other assorted furniture on their own little platforms with no walls dividing them. There is only one window, and it is open, and the room is an absolute mess - not one of the beds are made and there are clothes everywhere - and the room is absolutely empty.
Musa kicks the door shut behind her and lets go of Tecna, who beelines for one of the beds and emerges holding Bloom’s phone. Musa feels her eyebrows raise. She’d known Bloom had moved on from Sky, but damn…
“Fuck.” Darcy swears, and then also beelines for a different bed, only to grab a pillow, smash her face into it, and scream.
“Well they were both passed out when we left them this morning. And Icy wouldn’t take her out into the Tower, not when any other student could see. Or Griffin.” Stormy says reassuringly.
“What happened?” Flora asks in her deceptively calm voice. Stormy’s face does a thing and Musa’s stomach drops to her feet.
“For the record, I think Bloom would want to tell you herself. But - you know those dreams she’s been having?”
Flora’s expression creases in concern.
“Her nightmares. About that nymph, she said.”
“Right. Apparently the lady finally told her where she was, so Bloom snuck out. Don’t know why she called Icy, don’t care, but Icy went with her.”
“They found the nymph? Isn’t she supposed to be dead?” Musa asks, startled. Darcy and Stormy exchange a very not comforting glance.
“Remember how we were looking for the Dragon Fire?”
“Fucking shit.” Tecna breathes.
Tecna would only be swearing if the Dragon Fire was relevant in exactly one context. Inwardly, Musa starts despairing. Outwardly, she has to bite down on the inside of her cheek to prevent a semi-hysterical giggle from escaping.
“I don’t want to jump to conclusions please give us the baby version so we can panic too.” Musa declares. Flora whips around to stare at her, all wide-eyed and hair half-splayed like one of those aggressive hawks that had nested in Musa’s mother’s garden when she was six.
“Nymph is very fucking dead. Alfea imprisoned her ghost or corpse or whatever the fuck at the bottom of the lake. Said she was from Domino, said Bloom was from Domino, said she saved Bloom from Domino’s destruction and gave her a nice little parting gift called the fucking Dragon Fire. Riven had to break the two of them out before they got caught.” The last is added begrudgingly, like that admission in of itself is sour on Darcy’s tongue.
Musa blinks. Tecna sparks, violently.
“That explains quite a lot.” Flora murmurs, and drops out of her weird little attack mode.
“So…where’d they go?” Musa asks hesitantly after that pause. She doesn’t have the brain space to worry about how easily Flora’s taking this. Darcy throws her hands up in the air.
“I don’t fucking know! They could be - “
She’s turned while she spoke, and she stops dead staring at something. Musa dares to inch closer to her, and follows her gaze to a wardrobe that looks like it’s been entirely ransacked.
Instead of a back, there is a tunnel. A note of pure rage escapes her before she can stop herself.
“You have a secret fucking room in your dorm?” She demands. Stormy jerks a little, and then turns to grin at Musa, all teeth.
“We have to put up with fucking Amaryl and you get a secret fucking room?! I’m fucking transferring.”
“You can’t do that, not yet.” Flora admonishes. That stops Musa dead in her tracks - she turns back to her friend and realizes very suddenly that Flora is far to still for comfort.
Tecna’s still sparking around her eyelashes, lids shuttered shut. She’ll need another minute or so to center herself, especially given that Tecna’s probably working out the politics of what this all means - she can’t help.
“Hun, you okay?”
“If - Alphea may not honor the nymphs but Linphea has never forgotten what they did for us. One of our own was - if Alphea slew one what is to say they didn’t slay the others?”
Oh.
Oh.
Linphea doesn’t have much in the way of heroes. They don’t value self-sacrifice enough for it. But it’s always had more than Harmonix, and it has always been far more reverent of those it does have than nearly any other homeworld Musa has heard of.
They are - like what Bloom describes saints on Earth as. Near religious figures. Magical beings don’t pray for relief, of course - that would be silly. But they do pray all the same - to not feel alone, to show their love, to prove that those great figures are not alone and never will be and are not forgotten.
One of the nymphs had originated from Linphea. He’d been - he is one of the only recognized male fairies in existence. Linphea hasn’t chosen another since, so the story goes, even if the rest of the magical dimension erased his name for it.
And Flora is here at Alphea, at a college meant to train guardian fairies, from a world that reveres its first, its precursor, and here she is at a college that has -
“Hey.” She says softly. When Flora looks at her, the green in her eyes is bleeding out, dark and reaching through the white.
“We didn’t intend to leave anything standing before.” She says softly, pitches her tone a little lower than she would usually dare. Cloud Tower croons around them, soft and delighted. Flora blinks, and bursts into tears, and Musa stumbles back when her arms are suddenly full of fairy, and the impact spins her around just enough to see that there is someone else standing in the doorway to Stormy and Darcy and Icy’s room.
Tall. Purple. Scary as fuck.
Cloud Tower moans apologetically around them.
“What is going on here?” Headmistress Griffin snarls.