Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The Winx are sitting in the library, studying after their training session with Griselda.

Well, most of them are actively studying. Flora, Musa and Tecna are foocusing on their books or in Tecna’s case her laptop, reading the coursework for Professor Avalon’s Magicphilosophy class. Aisha is also reading the text needed for the next lesson, but while stretching on the floor, because ‘moving helps her study’. Meanwhile Stella is using the book as a tray for her nail polish, which she is carefully applying to her nails she cautiously filed in shape just a moment ago, something about ‘pink nail polish making her remember things better’, Bloom doesn’t remember the excuse she had used.
If she is being honest, she isn’t better than Stella currently, as she can’t seem to focus either. Avalon’s classes have been hard for her to get back into after her second year, for well obvious reasons, but having one of her best classes drop to her worst in just half a year still pained her to see.

But today her mind is occupied with the conversation she had with Faragonda earlier. Fainting during an exercise was embarrassing enough, but the reason she fainted being her incomplete Enchanitx is just too much for her to handle right now. Her being the only one who could possibly defeat Valtor with the power of her dragon flame, the entire hope of the magic dimension is on the shoulders of the Winx club, led by her ancient magic, which now seems to be failing her. And not just failing but fighting her.
Faragonda used the words ‘dangerous’, which scares Bloom more than she is willing to admit. But what was she supposed to do? She needed to get stronger, to have a chance against Valtor. Getting her Enchantix was the only way to do so. There was just no other way, it’s not her fault that her entire world was destroyed, possibly forever unless she can save it, so she had no one to rescue, who even decided that one had to save someone from their home planet to earn Enchantix?? That is such a random requirement, sure no one could predict something like an entire planet’s downfall ever happening, but it still makes no sense! Bloom’s mind kept spiraling, her heart rate increasing, her breath becoming rapid and her hands started slightly shaking. The more her mind spiraled, the more Bloom panicked.

“I can’t take this anymore!” Stella exclaimed, slamming the book close, she opened just a second ago “We’ve been doing school stuff for ages! First with Griselda now this?! NO, we deserve a break!!” The loud noise is enough to rip Bloom out of her thoughts, she doesn’t know how long she was in this state of fear, but she feels exhausted, so a break is more than welcome.

“Stella you hardly studied” Tecna replies, without looking up from her laptop

“But she might be correct – for once” Musa yawns and stretches her back, her spine cracking in a few places “We should probably stop before Aisha tears a muscle”

Aisha barely reacts, her mind is also far away from the book she’s supposed to be reading, but closes it in agreement, slowly getting up from the floor.

Tecna sighs disappointed but also shuts her computer device and looks into the group

Collecting her things Flora suggests “How about we go into the city? Get away from school for a bit?” She was looking at Bloom worried as she said that, noticing the slight shaking and that her notes are almost completely empty, apart from the Winx Club logo, she had doodled into the upper right corner of the page.

“Yes, now you are speaking my language!” The fairy of the sun and the moon is already done packing her things and seems more than ready to leave
the library.

“Aright, but it is supposed to be raining in Magix”

“Don’t you worry Tecna! I’ve been waiting for a moment like this for ages!” replies Stella excitedly

Bloom doesn’t feel the need to add to the conversation but is glad that she gets to hopefully take her mind off things, even if it’s just this afternoon. They all deserve a break from insane people trying to take over the magical dimension.

Looking at Aisha Bloom can see that she is also not doing the best right now, and who could blame her? Her Parents have arranged a marriage for her! Bloom is aware that being a princess comes with a lot of responsibilities but that is just too far! They are all eighteen now, with the exception of Stella, who is a year older, but that doesn’t mean they want to get married! Even less when it’s arranged. Apparently having to fight Valtor and save Andros wasn’t enough struggle for her Aisha, her parents had to add more to her burden.

And so they made their way into the city. The bus ride was rather uneventful, with the exception of new outfits Stella designed to protect them against the rain. Bloom thought they were cute, but unfortunately not enough to cheer her up, but she pretended to feel better, in order to not bring the mood down

Magix is rather empty, not many people want to be rained on, but this is kind of what the Winx needed right now. They have no issue finding a cute little place to sit and talk and for a moment everything almost feels normal, getting to talk about the endless relationship issues between Musa and Riven, until they notice someone spying on them, which brings Aisha over the edge, her mood already being down, and she storms off.

This is the drama they are supposed to be having! Boyfriends, little fights and stalkers, well maybe not that one. But in comparison to Valtor, the idea of only having to deal with a stalker almost seemed like music in Bloom’s ears. And there he was again invading her thoughts. She got angry at herself. He is in her dreams, her thoughts, he occupies her mind at every hour of the day and right now it even feels like she can see his face in the clouds!

Wait- she could see his face in the clouds and the Trix’s visages appearing next to him! Bloom is too stunned to understand what he is saying. For a moment she froze, unable to comprehend what is happening.

“Wait, I’m looking it up! The eye of the ancient ancestors- it belonged to the three ancient witches!” Tecna is rapidly tipping on her phone, desperatly trying to find out what Valtor could want with the artifact

“You can hand it over or fight, either way it will be mine!”

“Alright then we’ll fight!” Musa is more than ready to protect the eye, even if it means fighting on her supposed day off, Stella and Flora shout in agreement.

“This way then” and Tecna runs in the direction of the Museum, based on directions her phone gave her.

Bloom almost tumbles as she follows her friends, who are all sprinting after Tecna, she manages to not fall and arrives at the same time as the others, Asiha also having jumped into action after hearing cloud-Valtors message, the fight being long forgotten.

“The security on this place is topnotch, the vault is one of the securest one in the entire magic dimension” A hologram of the museum building appeared out of Tena’s mobile device as she explains.

“But why is Valtor giving them time to prepare?” asks Flora perplexed

“He’s planning something” Bloom’s expression darkens.

Chapter Text

After some planning and philosophizing about what Valtor’s plan could be, the Winx decided to get on the roof of the museum, now reunited with Aisha, the conversation from earlier continues, while waiting for their enemies to appear.

“I know I was a bit harsh to him, but I really can’t deal with all this. I’m just done with boys “Aisha rambles, visually upset

“So this isn’t a great time?” a male voice appears behind them.

The Winx spin around, it’s the stranger from before “How did you get up here?” Aisha asks, now angry again.

“Just like you did, with magic” he spins his staff in demonstration

“He might be Valtor’s spy, we can’t trust him” Tecna voices her mistrust, now also getting angry at the unknown man following them.

“I am no spy, I am Ophir and I am here to offer my help fighting Valtor” that isn’t enough to ease the suspicion but there is no more time for arguing, because Valtor and the Trix make their appearance known with a huge blast that rips open the roof of the museum, allowing them access to the well-guarded building and sending the Winx and the persistent stranger sliding down the wet and already slippery roof tiles. Ophir manages to keep his fooding, being further away from the blast than the girls were, and helps Aisha to not slip off the roof.
Luckily the others mange to stay on the roof as well and no one fell and got injured.

“We didn’t even have time to cast a single spell” Flora says, while looking into the hole created by the blast

“He seems to have gotten stronger as well” they can hear the defeat in Musa’s voice. He has always been more powerful than they are, and now even with their enchantix upgrade they are still no match for him.

Tecna studies her device “According to my scanner he had to use a very powerful spell to get through the protection magic, that must have seriously depleted his power. It should take some time before he is able to fully regenerate, that means that we now have the biggest chance against him”

There are no further questions asked and the Winx go down into the museum.

The hall is already full of defeated guards, and they can easily follow the trail of destruction caused by Valtor. The museum hall is very impressive with tall ceilings and huge arches, that lead into other rooms with more exhibitions and artifacts. The target is the vault so there is no time to look around the curiosities, however something does manage to catch Musa’s eyes, well not something but rather someone. “The Trix!” she informs the rest of the group “They were heading that way” and points in a direction away from the vault.

“Why would they be heading that way? Musa are you sure you saw them? The fight is in the vault” Aishia asks confused

“Yes, and we are going to miss it if we don’t hurry!” Bloom is on edge, if this is their biggest chance to beat him, they must act fast, before he gets back to full strength… Or before her enchantix fails her, she painfully reminds herself.

“But think about it” the fairy of music pleads “Why would he give them time to prepare, and gather to protect the vault? Exactly, because now the rest of the museum is empty, giving the Trix easy access to whatever he actually is after”

“I’m going to see if I can get access to the security cameras in the vault, if he is planning something else, we should be able to see it” Tecna is back on her phone, casually hacking into the museums security cameras.

The time it takes for Tecna to get into the cameras feels like forever, every second filling Bloom with more and more anxiety. Will they be too late? If they make it in time, will she be able to perform? What if she fails? What if her powers fail her? She can feel her heart rate increasing again and a cold runs up her spine. Flora places a hand on her shoulder as the fairy of nature stares into Tecnas phone in anticipation. Bloom can’t stop thinking about everything that could go wrong and places her hand on top of Floras, in hope of comfort.

“There, I’m in” the livestream from the security-feed shows Valtor shoving the director into the vault with a burst of magic and shutting the door, capturing the director and other staff inside with the artifact, Valtor then turns to leave and is out if the visual the camera can provide.

“See I told you; he never wanted the eye of the ancestors, he just wanted to get rid of the guards!”

“Then we have to hurry, Musa which way did they go?” Bloom’s fear quickly turned into anger; how could she get tricked by him? Of course, he isn’t stupid enough to announce when and where he will attack, but she was stupid enough to believe him.

Musa darts into the direction the Trix headed a moment ago, the Winx and Ophir follow right behind her. Bloom is still trying to somehow calm her nerves, she can’t just attack with full power out of anger, who knows what will happen if she faints during the fight again. She doesn’t want to think about it.

The Winx find themselves running down a long corridor, quickly looking into the attached rooms to see if the Trix are in there, but they must run to the end of the hall, until they reach the main room, where the eye of the ancestors was previously on display.

“What does he want with the stupid box?”
“The box is a powerful artifact itself” They can already hear the Trix

Bloom pushes her legs as fast as she can, reaching the room almost in the same time as the others, who have already transformed into their enchantix while they were running down the hall, Ophir following right behind her.

Darcy is levitating the box onto a floating ice disk, that Icy created.

“Don’t even think about it! Step away from the trinket” Stella shouts, making their presence known to the witches

Icy wastes no time and fires ice shards towards the group, aiming at Bloom and Flora “Don’t worry girl, I got this” Flora sends a counterattack and the ice gets blown into snow particles, that are now slowly falling onto the ground.
Musa and Stella fly up and attack together, but that gets countered by Stormy, who launches a nearby object at the fairies “Got ‘em” she smiled victorious, knocking them onto the ground. That was enough to distract the witches, and Bloom melted the ice with her firy magic, letting the box fall into a glove Asiha created with her morphix beneath it.

“Now we’ve got the box” taunts Aisha the now stunned trio.

But Bloom’s inner victory falls short, as she feels a familiar cold creep up her spine again. Her head begins to feel almost dizzy, because she can hear her heartbeat in her ears and her eyes widen. She has to remind herself how to breathe as she gasps out the words
“he’s here”

Chapter Text

“Ah so you can sense my presence, I almost feel honored” a deep voice says, taunting Bloom.

“Yea, it’s kinda the same feeling like having to throw up” is mocking Valtor the best idea ever? Probably not, does Bloom care right now? No. She is mad, angry, furious even. The wizard almost managed to trick her, ruined her day off and her entire third year in Alfea, because instead of studying her biggest task became fighting another overpowered egomaniac. Seriously why is it always the responsibility of the Winx club to save the magic dimension? She can try to find an answer to this question after the threat is gone.

“Valtor!” The Trix exclaim exited, knowing that they are no match for the enchantix fairies.

“Enough chitchat, take this!” Stella shouts. The transformed Winx girls surround Valtor and blast him all at once. Smoke surrounds the sorcerer, and it seems like the combo attack actually had an effect on him, until the smoke clears and he starts laughing “pathetic, all of you combined can only hold me back for a few seconds”. He managed to cast a protection spell without even breaking a sweat, which irritates Bloom even more. He launches an attack of his own, sending the fairies that attacked him flying back. Ophir tires to catch Asisha, but the force of the attack slams him into a wall, softening her impact, but rendering him unconscious.

“We’ll see about that; Enchantix!” within a second Bloom transforms and attacks Valtor with her dragon fire.

“-what” the Wizard has hardly any time to react and casts the same shield he used against the other attack. This time however he gets slammed into a column, the carved stone shatters with the impact. He gets up and dusts off his coat. “Well, well look at you; enchantix and the dragon fire together, now that sounds like a challenge” Valtor seems almost amused, there is no trace of fear or panic in his voice, this might be a challenge for him, but no threat whatsoever. The now transformed fairy was hoping to get more of an reaction out of him.

“Let’s keep the others busy so Valtor can deal with Bloom!” Icy spits out Bloom’s name as if she was insulting someone. The Winx have already recovered from the blast and are eager to fight.

“Just you and me then, let’s go” Bloom quickly flies into another hall of the museum, she needs to get Valtor away from her friends. The fire fairy is not sure if she wants to protect them from the wizard or from her own powers if she does end up losing control, but separating her fight with Valtor from their battle against the Trix seems like a good idea.

“Hm, just you and me” he chuckles and follows Bloom into the corridor.

Blooms emergency plan seems to work, she and Valtor fly next to each other, but separated by the magic proof glass the museum uses as protection against intruders. There is no way His spells could go through that. “Seems like you can’t run from me forever princess” She knows the nickname is supposed to provoke her, poking fun at the fact that he is part of the reason her planet, and with it her kingdom, got destroyed and Bloom readies her attack, magic surrounding her fists, just waiting for her to fire at him. But with the more magic power she gathers, her fear is also increasing. Can she fight him like this? What if it goes wrong and she can’t face him? Or if she loses control again and faints? Maybe she should have stayed in reach of her friends, she’s suddenly not sure if she can handle the wizard on her own.

Due to her overthinking Bloom doesn’t notice, that the corridor came to an end, now with no glass barrier separating the two Valtor loses no time and launches an attack at her. Bloom can barely react, just narrowly deflecting the spell aimed right at her face. She ends up dodging more attacks he blasts at her.

“What’s wrong? Afraid to attack me?” this time his question almost sounds genuine.

“You wish” but she still can’t bring herself to attack him, her fear, that something could go wrong was just too big.

“Oh, don’t tell me you have developed a soft spot for me” and he launches another blast at her, but Bloom just keeps on avoiding the attacks. “I was hoping for a fight, show me what your enchantix is capable of!” Bloom takes a few deep breaths, evading his blows is getting harder and harder, but she also needs to calm her nerves, as her fear begins to be overshadowed by her fury and Vatlor’s provocations aren’t helping her.

“Come on, show me what you got, you know that your pathetic little friends can’t land a single hit on me, you’re their only hope” That’s it, Bloom throws a fire ball aiming at his face, but he simply catches it midair.

“So you have gone soft! You’re telling me cursing a fairies boyfriend is the way to get a woman’s affection, if only someone told me that earlier” He is now laughing. But not just laughing, he’s laughing at her and Bloom sees red. Her hands glowing with magic she shoots more attacks at him. The last one hitting him in the abdomen, sending him sliding back a few meters.

“Ah there she is” he says, still amused “And I was beginning to think you got enchantix just for the new outfit” and another attack came flying, this time aiming for his head. He can feel the heat the fairy radiates as he dodges yet another fire ball. Bloom finishes her barrage, having to catcher her breath as her lungs begin to hurt from exhaustion.

“Was that all?” Valtor has barely any scratches.

“Why do you always talk more than you fight?” she is seriously pissed of.

“I though you might want to get to know the wizard that will sent you into an early grave” now is his time to attack. Bloom has to fly up to the ceiling in order to not get hit, her heart pounding from adrenalin “I’m afraid your funeral will be long before mine! Dragon fury!” the attack leaves a crater where it impacts, unfortunately without hitting Valtor. Bloom’s hands are now trembling and she feels a uncomfortable tingling in her fingers, she shakes off this feeling and decides to stay in the air, because she has the worry, that her legs wont hold her up if she lands.

Valtor looks at Bloom, studying her behavior. She doesn’t seem to be doing well, she’s already out of breath and almost gasping for air. He also notices that she seems to be shaking, her not doing well would explain why she is so off today. The sorcerer is conflicted, he hates easy victories and seeing his biggest opponent in a state like this feels wrong. He knows that Bloom is usually way to stubborn to show any weakness, especially in a fight, but there she is barely holding her self in the air. The wizard is lost in his thoughts for too long and doesn’t notice as the depleted fairy casts another attack at him, this time fully hitting him.

He groans as he gets up and wants to make another snarky remark at the fairy, but before he can say anything Bloom lets out a small pained scream and clutches her hand over her chest. She plummets out of the air, hitting the ground hard and a few cracks are visible in the stone beneath her. Valtor just stands there for a second looking at the fallen fairy squirming in pain.

Bloom can’t breathe, her head is killing her. She is in so much pain, she didn’t even feel when she made impact with the ground. Every bit of air she manages to force into her lungs feels razor sharp and she is dizzy. The room around her seems to be spinning, she looks around hectic, trying to find something she could focus on, but it’s like her vision turned dark, the only thing she can see is the rough outline of the room around her. Her fight is long forgotten and she doesn’t notice Valtor stepping closer to her. Only as he leans over her do her eyes manage to focus on him, or what she thinks is his outline, her ears are ringing too loud to hear any steps or if he’s saying anything.

Everything in her wants to get up, but she can’t even roll to her side to try and lift herself up. She has lost control over her body, paralyzed by the burning pain in her chest and she passes out.

Valtor was too stunned to say anything. He can only look at the misery in front of his eyes. Her groans of pain manage to tear him out of his trance and the wizard crouches next to the trembling fairy, that was fighting him so bravely just a second ago. Even while unconcius does she seem to be suffering. He reaches out to brush a stand of hair off her face but hesitates before he can touch her. It’s no secret that he and Bloom can feel each other’s presence, but now he can feel her magic and what he feels is utter chaos, like she lost complete control of her dragon flame and it’s now fighting her.

A whisper escapes his lips; “What happened to you little fairy?” in his voice is actual concern. He looks Bloom up and down and notices how her transformation seems to be flickering, then it hit him! It’s the enchantix. There was no actual way for her to achieve it, she had no one to save. She must have forced it through sheer willpower, leaving her enchantix incomplete. Uncontrollable magic is dangerous, uncontrollable fairy magic is a complete disaster and an uncontrollable dragon flame could be truly horrific. How could Faragonda let that happen? She is supposed to look out for her students, especially if they carry the ancient power that created the magic dimension.

For the first time ever Valtor feels clueless. This wasn’t supposed to happen, he was the one that was meant to destroy Bloom and now she seems to wither away without a fight. No he can’t have that, he wants no easy victory over such a promising opponent. Valtor crouches down next to her.

“I will find a way to help you” he whispers to himself.

Chapter Text

He reaches out to her, his fingers inching toward the unconscious form on the floor. Just as he’s about to touch her, something stops him. He can feel her magic pulsing through her—chaotic, erratic, and seething. But it’s not the intensity of her magic that makes him halt. No, it’s the strange way her magic reacts to his own. It seems to sense his presence, responding to the flow of his power, almost calming as he draws closer. Bloom’s shivering lessens the nearer he gets, as though her magic, so incomplete and untamed, is seeking guidance from his own.

Valtor finally closes the distance, his fingers hovering just above her. The moment he touches her, something shifts. His usually cold, controlled magic stirs in a way that catches him off guard. It's not the usual steady, calculated power he's used to — it pulses with a strange excitement, almost like it recognizes her magic.

The energy between them is charged—her unstable, raw magic seems to resonate with his own, but not in a way that drains or weakens either of them. Instead, it amplifies his magic, while it seems to calm hers. His power doesn’t diminish from her chaos; it reacts to it.

Her magic, frantic and searching for control, is like a storm looking for an anchor, and though he doesn't fully understand it, he can’t ignore the undeniable strength it gives him. Valtor is always seeking new spells, new ways to increase his power—but never did he anticipate that his own magic could improve. The exhaustion from the battle earlier vanishes, replaced by a rush of energy, as though he’s just awoken from the deepest, most refreshing rest of his life.

“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” he can't help but smile.

Bloom's breathing is still rapid, but the pain has faded, replaced by a strange calmness. The chaos in her magic is still thre, but it no longer feels as dangerous. It seems more contained, her instability softened by the guidance of his power.

Her forehead glistens with sweat, her body bearing the strain of their battle and the strain of losing control. Yet, despite the toll on her, there is no sign of her de-transformation—her glittering dress still sparkles, shimmering with a quiet defiance.

“Why are you still transformed?” Valtor wonders, a touch of confusion flickering in his eyes. Normally, when a fairy’s power is drained, they would lose their wings and return to their civilian form. It’s easier for them to replenish their magic that way. Bloom’s Enchantix still flickers, though less intensely than before. Her wings, though faint, remain. Perhaps it’s the unstable state of her magic, but something is holding her in this form.

He bends down to pick her up, carefully placing an arm under her shoulders and legs. He lifts her slowly, making sure not to jar her too much. Without the erratic pulse of her magic coursing through her, he might have believed he was carrying a lifeless body.

There is something tragically captivating about seeing Bloom like this. She is the last hope of her pathetic school, the one with the power to bring him down, yet now she’s defeated by her own relentless drive to grow stronger. It’s a kind of hunger he can understand, one he himself knows all too well. He lays down the rules for his power, and his magic bends to it—no compromise. There is nothing he wouldn’t do to gain more strength, and in that, Bloom is the same.

The difference, however, is that she seeks power not for herself, but to please the weaker individuals who’ve surrounded her. It’s this very reliance that keeps her tethered to limitations, the reason she’ll never reach her true potential. The thought infuriates him. How can someone with such power waste it, binding it to the constructs of fairy magic? She, with all her raw potential, is controlled by those who have no understanding of what they’re dealing with. Valtor, on the other hand, knows her magic, as he carries a part of it within himself.

If anyone could guide her to her fullest potential, it is him. And with her by his side? That would be the greatest power of all. Not only would he have destroyed the planet of Domino, exiled its king and queen, but he would also be the one to control the long-lost princess herself.

Valtor walks into the hall where the Trix are now defeated. Icy, Darcy and Stormy are tied up by the pink morphix Aisha is in control of. Bloom is hanging over his shoulder, still no sign of her gaining consciousness.

"Defeating the Trix? That’s almost Impressive. Too bad little Bloom couldn’t keep up her end of the deal”

All eyes turn to him instantly, the small noises of relief from the defeated Trix drowned out by the Winx’s shouts of concern.

“What did you do to her?!” Stella’s voice is sharp with fury, though it’s more concerned than anything.

“You’ll pay for this!” Aisha doesn’t hesitate, magic already pulsating around her hands as she prepares to attack.

“Don’t! You could hurt Bloom!” Flora steps forward, her voice trembling with fear. She’s desperate to hold her friend in her arms again, but she realizes that any wrong move could make things worse. They have no idea what Bloom’s been through, but in a state like this, it can’t be good.

“Right, and we wouldn’t want that.” Valtor shifts the unconscious Bloom off his shoulder, letting her body hit the floor in front of him. She doesn’t move, the impact doesn’t even get a reaction.
“You monster!” Musa clenches her fists, she is furious, but still too scared to attack, not when he could hurt Bloom even more.

“What do you want?” Tecna is desperate to find a way to help but knows that fighting isn’t the way out of this situation.

“You know what I want. Release the Trix, hand over the box, and you can have your little princess back.” He nudges Bloom’s shoulder with his foot, rolling her onto her back.
“Fine” without waiting for a reaction from the others Stella picks up the box and begins walking over to the wizard.

“First the Trix! Give them the box, I’ll leave her when they are gone” Valtor hovers his foot threateningly over Bloom, ready to strike her again. Stella stops right in her tracks, afraid, that any wrong move could lead to more pain for her friend. She looks over to Aisha, waiting for her to release her Morphix. Aisha looks around her friends, looking for an answer. “No need to hurry” Valtor says sarcastically and lowers his boot onto Bloom’s neck, no pressure applied, but the intent loud and clear. The Trix are released and Icy walks over to Stella, who is still holding the box without moving an inch. She takes the trinket out of the fairy’s hands, grinning viciously “Thanks for keeping this warm for me, princess.” Stella dosn't respond.

With the artifact secured the witches fly out of the museum, the Winx glare at Valtor, but are too afraid to say anything.

“No need to get so worked up—she’s still alive. Or she should be.” And with that he vanishes in a cloud of black smoke, leaving the unconscious Bloom on the floor.

The Winx waste no time, reaching her in an instant. Uncertain what to do, Stella reaches her hand out, her fingers trembling as they brush against Bloom’s skin. She’s cold to the touch. A sharp, pained cry escapes Stella’s lips. How could she let this happen?

Before the thought could fully form, the body beneath her hand begins to hum faintly, a soft, eerie light glowing from within. Stella freezes, her breath catching as Bloom’s face starts to shift and blur. In the blink of an eye, her best friend is gone. Where Bloom had been only moments ago now lays one of the museum’s cold, lifeless statues.

Valtor tricked them.

Chapter Text

The Winx girls burst into the Hall where Bloom and Valtor had their battle. The hope of finding Bloom —unconscious but alive—is the only thing keeping their panic at bay. But as they step into the ruins of the museum hall, reality hits them. It’s empty. No Bloom, no sign of her anywhere.

The room is heavily scarred by the battle. Shattered columns, fractured stone tiles and scorch marks paint the room, the dust hasn’t fully set yet and the air is thick and dusty with debris. Stella flies over the rubble, hoping to catch a glimpse of red hair or anything that could imply Bloom is still in the museum. She finds nothing.

“Tecna can you scan the room for a lifeform?” her voice trembles, she still doesn’t want to give up on her best friend.

A few seconds pass where Tecna is typing on her scanner. Stella doesn’t breathe, scared that every movement in the air might mess up the process.
“She’s not here.” the devastation turns her voice into a whisper. For once she hopes that her technology has failed her, showing her a false result, she runs the scanner another time, but the outcome stays the same. Bloom isn’t here.

“Then we have to search the other rooms, maybe she-“

“Maybe she what Stella? Is playing hide and go seek with us? Valtor has her!” Musa is angry, not at Stella but at everything, especially herself. She saw Bloom flying out of the room to get Valtor away from them but didn’t do anything. She could have followed her, all of them should have done more to help Bloom.

“Please, fighting won’t help us right now.” Flora pleads. The fairy of nature can already feel the heaviness of Bloom’s absence. The worry for her friend clouds her mind, she doesn’t know what to say. She desperately wants to make her friends feel better and maybe somehow lighten the mood, but she can’t. The thoughts of what Bloom must be going through invade her mind, she can’t think of anything else. They need each other’s support now, just like they did when Tecna was lost in the omega dimension.

“But we have to do something!” Determination hits Aisha, they can’t change the past, but they can focus on finding a way to help their friend now.

“Why did he take her? What does he want from her?” the question has been on the mind of the girls for a bit, but Flora is the only one who dared to ask.

“Because he’s a massive creep.” Musa knows her sarcasm isn’t helping, and she regrets snapping at Flora the moment she says the words. Her eyes glued to the ground, she is too embarrassed to look her friend in the eyes.

Aisha’s voice cuts through the tension. “We won’t help her by standing here. Let’s head back to Alfea. We’ll figure out a way to save Bloom—and answer these questions later.” Her determination is motivating for the others. She would never admit it, but during the battle she started to have a little bit of trust in Ophir and if she could forgive him, anything could be possible, she even considers asking him for help.

Tecna nods, already pulling out her communicator. “I’ll call Timmy. He can pick us up—it’ll save time.” She focuses on the device. With every passing second, the image of Bloom in Valtor’s clutches grows harder to bear.

While the Winx are planning their return to Alfea, the Trix have already made their way back to the cloud tower, Icy still holds the box in her hands, unsure of what to do with the trinket. It’s so unassuming, it can be considered pretty if you look at it from a fairy’s point of view, but for her there is nothing appealing about it. But Valtor wants it, so it must have some kind of importance.
“Sooo where do we put it?” Stormy flicks against the metal, it surprisingly makes no sound.

“How should I know? I don’t think this was part of the plan. He was pretty serious about getting it, I didn’t think he’d let us leave without him.” none of this makes any sense to Icy. How did Valtor defeat Bloom? She knows he’s strong, maybe even the strongest sorcerer they’ve ever worked with, and that means something, considering they worked for the shadow phoenix, but strong enough to beat Bloom like that? The fairy has just recieved her annoying upgrade to enchantix and Icy has experienced the heat the new power brings personally, but they were gone for a maximum of 20 minutes, how did he defeat a supposedly stronger Bloom that fast? She couldn’t even see any marks on him. He looked like he had come back from a stroll in the park, not a vicious battle against his sworn enemy. Something isn’t right, but all they can do now is wait for his return and explain what happened. Negotiating with these stupid little fairies can’t take that long.

“Let’s just get the box into his room, he’ll probably want to work on it alone once he returns”

“You just want an excuse to look at his bedroom, stalker” after Stormy got over her very brief crush on the wizard (that she will never admit she had in the first place) teasing Darcy about her lingering infatuation with the sorcerer became one of her favorite past time activities.

But Darcy’s idea is still the best plan they can come up with, so they make their way into their old school and head up to the room Valtor has claimed for his own.

Stormy pushes open the door to the wizard’s room, and whatever they were talking about instantly fades into silence.

Valtor has already returned, even before they have. He is sitting in a chair next to his bed, his coat draped on the armchair near the fireplace, where a fire casts a dim, flickering, warm orange light across the room. But the sorcerer’s presence isn’t the part that shocks the Trix, he definitely has his ways of traveling faster than them, it’s the fact that a person seems to be lying in his bed. His broad shoulders are covering most of the person, and the light is not strong enough to highlight any identifying features.

Valtor hasn’t noticed their presence yet and a part of Stormy just wants to back out slowly and quietly to not have an awkward conversation, she doesn’t mind confrontation, but this is way too uncomfortable for her tase. But her sisters seem to disagree. Icy struts into the room, slamming the artifact on the side table beside the armchair. The metal makes no sound, frustrated she lets out a huff, which is still not enough to break Valtor’s seemingly intense concentration on the person in his bed.

The witch looks back at her sisters, who are still standing in the doorframe, not moving as if they are scared to make a sound. She is unsure of what to do but they just look back at her with the same confusion. Great. As the leader, she’s apparently responsible for breaking this awkward moment, even when her attempts show no signs of working, so much for teamwork.

“We have the box you wanted” her voice betrays her in how unsure she sounds, all the confidence she had while entering the room is long gone, she tries to overshadow her insecurity with the situation by getting into a broad stand with her arms crossed.

Her effort to seem calm and secure doesn’t get noticed, as Valtor does not turn around to answer her “Leave it somewhere”

Icy’s anger returned as quick as it had left her “What is going on? How did you deal with the Winx and what happened during you battle with Bloom?!” she almost shouted the last part.

Valtor doesn’t react right away — had she gone too far by yelling at him? Her sisters step up beside her in silent support, though she wishes they’d voice their own anger instead of just standing there.

His sight lingers on Bloom for a bit longer. The strain her magic is taking on her is clearly visible on her face with sweat on her forehead, stray hairs that are stuck to her face while the rest of her mane is a beautiful mess on the pillow. But she is still mesmerizing to him.
He could always see that she was beautiful during their encounters but having her lying so close to him is truly something else. This way he can take in all her features, from her porcelain skin, her long dark eyelashes and the soft shape of her lips. He knows he will have to answer their questions eventually.

Valtor tears away his gaze and moves his chair away from the bed, so the Trix can see Bloom unconscious in his bed. “I wish I could tell you, but I have no idea”
“What do you mean?” Darcy found her voice again, breaking the stunned silence.

“We fought and she collapsed”

“Okay, but why the hell is she here?” Stormy’s question is in a very accusing tone, and he can’t blame her, how could he explain this in a way that would make sense to the Trix?
“And even worse in your bed?!” the jealousy in Icy’s voice is unmistakable.

“I needed somewhere to study her. I had hoped this place would grant me privacy, but once again, I am disappointed.” His demeanor is cold, it’s clear that he has no interest in engaging in this conversation, but he can’t walk away from this that easily, not when he has an unconscious Bloom to account for.

“Why did she collapse?” the jealousy is replaced by something that could almost be mistaken for concern.

“I’m guessing her enchantix is incomplete, the magic of the dragon fire is now uncontrollable and turning on the holder.” he sounds as if he’s reading from a phonebook, his emotions hidden under a facade of indifference.

“That doesn't explain why she's here” the superficial answers are not enough to satisfy Darcy, she is on the verge of getting annoyed.
“Because I brough her here”

“WHY?” Icy is now full-on yelling, the frustration and uncertainty of the situation is getting to her.

“I will tame the magic inside her, make her reach her full potential, that Faragonda is too stupid to see and bend her to my will. Bloom will be mine to control, her power under my guidance will grant me powers you couldn’t even dream of.” Valtor raised his voice without actually shouting, his presence filling the entire room, the Trix are too stunned to answer.

“Sooo just like Darkar?” Stormy’s whisper breaks the painful silence.

“Explain.”

“Well Darkar used some sort of fake teacher to get close to Bloom and infect her with some sort of shady virus –“
“-Shadow virus” Darcy corrects.

“Yes, that one.” Stormy continues her recap. “She then turned all evil and stuff, helping Darkar and fighting her friends, it was super weird. Her stupid boyfriend-prince managed to break the curse with some cheesy speech.”

Valtor is almost embarrassed for having a similar plan like this fool, but they are also so different. He needs a way to save Bloom, if he wants to admit it or not it’s his prime reason for his endeavor, the possibility of gaining control of the fairy is just a very nice side effect.

“Oh, but it is so very different, my dearest Trix.” a smile creeps over his face.

“Because this is going to work.”

Chapter Text

Rain is still hailing from the sky as the Winx wait for Timmy to arrive. They don’t talk, each of them is lost in their own thoughts and doubts. The weather is merciless and the freezing cold manages to find its way through the raincoats, no one complains, not even Stella. They don’t look for cover but stand in the storm, as if that's a way to punish themselves.

They don’t know how long it takes for Timmy to arrive in the owl, one of the spacecrafts of the Red Fountains. It lands in the courtyard in front of the museum. He stands silently on the ramp, offering them passage without a word. Tecna gives him a hug and he embraces her in silent support, his arms enclosing around her in hope of comfort.
The hug is cold as he the wetness from Tecna’s drenched clothes find their way to his own, which only makes him squeeze her even tighter. It’s not an uncomfortable grip, but one that seems like he wants to take away all her worry, tell her that she is safe and that he got her. Tecna’s face is buried in his shoulder, her tears get immediately caught in the fabric of his jacket and the crying only gets worse as he gently puts his hand on the back of her head. She doesn’t feel deserving of his comfort, yet she clings to it, unable to pull away. She sniffles as she looks up to him. “Timmy I-“.

“Shhh it’s okay” he doesn’t want her trying to explain anything, he just wants to be there for her.

They are usually not the couple to be very affectionate in public bur she needs him right now and after she got briefly lost in the Omega dimension he got extra affectionate, who cares what other people think. She’s the best thing that ever happened to him and everyone is allowed to see that.
Another soft squeeze and he does let go of her. The others are already waiting in the ship and he just sits down and starts the engines without saying a word. Tecna walks up to his chair and places her cheek on the top of his head.
The flight back is silent with exception of the motors, that are making the ship stay in the air. The flight takes 20 minutes, where no one says anything, brief glances to see how another one is doing there is no communication. The atmosphere is heavy, filled with sadness, regret, worry but also so much anger. And all these emotions are turned on one person: Valtor!

The arrival in the Alfea courtyard feels odd without Bloom there, the school building seems dull and washed out instead of its usual soft pink shade and the heavy rainclouds makes the sky appear grey. It’s like the color left when Bloom was taken. The wind is ruthless and the drenched fairies get violently cold. They enter the school and the freezing is immediately forgotten, as the rest of the Specialists wait for them on the stairs. Timmy informed them about Tecna’s message while he was on the way to pick the girls up and they all wanted to be there for their girlfriends and friends.

Stella breaks down and Brandon rushes over to hug her “It’s my fault” she whispers through her sobs.

“It’s not. How could you even think that?” His voice is soft but determined.

“I was the one who brough her here and she got in so much trouble because of it! First the Trix, then Darkar and now Valtor, she would have been better off if we never met” every word makes her cry even more and the last sentence is a hard to understand hyperventilated mess.

“That is not true and you know it. Bloom belongs in this world and she would have discovered her powers eventually. She’s lucky you were there to help and guide her, otherwise she would have probably burned down her house accidentally!” They had this type of conversation before and he knows how guilty Stella feels whenever something happens to Bloom and with what’s been happening the last few years, she’s been feeling like that a lot.
Stella responds by hugging him tighter, her makeup will leave a mark, that’s for sure, but she knows he doesn’t care. She also knows that he might be right. A fairies first experience with their magic is usually out of strong emotions and uncontrolled. The first time she used magic was after getting very heavily bullied one day and she accidentally photobleached the girls hair a few shades lighter. The bullying got less afterwards but so did making friends. With Blooms temper, strong magical powers and Mitzy around it’s truly a wonder no accidents had happened, they would have been disastrous that’s for sure.

Helia cradles Flora’s face in both his hands his thumb brushes away fresh tears. Flora fidgets with the hem of her skirt slightly pulling on it before scrunching it up again
“I should have done more”
“You always think you should have done more” he pulls her into a tight hug “Even when you give everything”
She still can’t look him in the eyes and instead buries her face in his shoulder, letting her tears disappear in the fabric of his shirt.

Musa also finds herself embraced by her boyfriend. Riven doesn’t say anything, he’s too scared to mess up and cause a fight. He’s hardly ever seen Musa this down and it absolutely scares him to see the otherwise fierce fairy so down. Anger begins to raise inside of him but he decides to put Musa’s emotions before his right now. She truly needs him right now. He’s angry at Valtor, Faragonda, the Trix and the entire world but for now Musa is everything he will focus on. She has become a part of his world, next to training and fighting, but those come second. He will try to help Musa now and will get his anger out in battle after.

Aisha feels awkward seeing all the intimate moments around her. She has counted the stairs twice now, 64, and doesn’t know what to do now. Maybe count them once more? See if anything changed? It’s not that affection makes her uncomfortable perse but she does feel like a spare tire on a bus, she almost wishes that Ophir had come with them. On stair 3 her eyes fall on Sky, who is sitting crunched over with his head in his hands, his figers tightly gripping his hair. Aisha slowly walks over, trying not to make any loud steps, that could disturb the couples around her. She halts next to the railing and gently places her hand on Sky’s shoulder. He looks up, his eyes watery without any tears actually falling, he’s a mess.

“We’ll get her back” She doesn’t know when she turned into a motivational speaker but someone has to keep up hope.

“Yeah" Sky mutters sarcastically, voice low and strained. But he doesn't pull away when Aisha's hand tightens on his shoulder

“Hey, I mean it!” Her voice grew louder. “We’ve brought her back before. We’ll do it again. Valtor has no idea what we’re capable of.”
The rest of the group now also turn to her

“Really, cause so far we didn’t stand a chance against him!” Musa’s voice got louder the more she speaks, her sadness overshadowed by anger.

“This time it will work!” the fairy of waves tries to sound as determined as possible.

“Why? Why is this soooo different?!” Musa is not impressed.

“Because this HAS to work” Stella pulls her face out of Brandon’s shoulder.

“We’ve failed over and over again and now he took Bloom” Flora’s voices her inner monologue.

“But we’ve improved every single time. The Trix are already no match for us and if we keep this up Valtor will be next. According to my measurements he might have the higher starting point when it comes to power, but we’ve had higher improvements, so we should catch up sooner or later, it’s simple math” Tecna’s emotions get overshadowed by logic

“You’ve been measuring our power?” Stella looks at her flabbergasted.

Tecna shrugs.

On the top of the stairs a door creaks open and Griselda enters into the hall. Her shoes clicking on the white tile. “There you are! Headmistress Faragonda is expecting you!” Her voice is it’s cold as usual but her gaze seem softer. She feels bad for the girls and seeing them this hopeless is odd and makes her worry.

The first thing Bloom feels is a throbbing pain behind her eyes, that clouds her vision. Every breath takes effort, as if her lungs have forgotten how to function on their own and her entire body seems heavy, as if the crushing chaos of her magic is violently pushing her into the bed. At least she thinks she’s in a bed, she can’t really see what’s going on around her, the light in the room is dim but warm, not enough to illuminate the room completely but the flickering of the flames has a calming effect on her.

Bloom has always liked watching fire. As a child she would light so many matchsticks just to observe the flame consuming the wooden twig and how it would always extinguish right before reaching her fingers. Mike would get mad at her, lecturing her on how many fires he had to put out that were started by children playing with candles or matchsticks and how heavily they hurt themselves in the process. But Bloom never burned herself, no matter how close she got to the flame, even when she let the fire lick her skin, she wouldn’t feel pain but a strange form of comfort she couldn’t explain. Now it all made sense as fire is a part of her, it’s the essence of the magic roaring inside of her which is now threatening to burn her. It’s kind of ironic if she thinks about it.

The longer she’s awake the more her senses return to her. Her ears are still ringing but now she can hear the cracking of the wood that is getting consumed by the fire. While her vision hasn’t fully returned yet she is starting to make out the room she is lying in. The ceilings are tall and dark, and someone is sitting next to her, their hand carefully placed upon her own. Bloom is expecting Stella sitting next to her but is hoping that it would be Sky, maybe he heard that she ended up in Alfea’s hospital wing and rushed over waiting for her to regain consciousness.

Bloom painfully remembers losing to Valtor. She landed a good hit, but then—nothing but burning pain. It consumed her, and she must have fainted. How could she let that happen? Her friends relied on her, she is the one who’s supposed to defeat Valtor, but she failed, and they had to come save her. Bloom doesn’t know if she can ever forgive herself for that.

Tears begin to form in her eyes, but she doesn’t allow herself to cry, the pain she’s feeling will be her reminder that she failed and needs to improve, therefore she will hold on to this feeling and not let it wash away through tears.

Bloom takes a deep breath, it’s uneven and hurts, the person next to her realizes that she is awake and moves closer to the bed. The warmth the hand holding hers is radiating feels so very calming in a way only Sky’s touch could ever do, it reminds her of the fire she used to play with.

She tries to put on a smile that will make it seem like she’s fine, just exhausted. The last thing Bloom wants to do is worry anyone more than she already is.

It takes a lot of effort to turn her head, and she must close her eyes again in order to focus on telling her body what to do. She can feel the pillow pressing against her face, telling her she managed to turn her head into the position she wanted. She opens her eyes, expecting to finally see Sky again but it’s not him sitting next to her. It’s not even Stella or any of her other friends. Valtor is staring back at her, crouched over on the chair, so their faces are on the same level.

“You’re awake. That’s good. I was beginning to wonder if you were enjoying my bed too much.” He looks as if he’s actually relieved that she woke up.

“Valtor?” Bloom’s voice is nothing but a croaked whisper, is she hallucinating?

He chuckles ”The one and only.”

The fairy of the Dragon Flame just stares at him for a moment, then she realizes that he is the one holding her hand! She tries to pull away but manages nothing more than a pathetic flinch.

“Don’t let go” It’s not an order, he doesn’t command her it’s more like he’s stating a fact. Bloom wants to retaliate but Valtor interrupts her.

“I can feel it you know. The way your magic is fighting you.” His hand fully closes around hers as if he’s trying to make a point.

“Your Enchantix is incomplete. But you knew that didn’t you?”

Bloom refuses to answer.
“Yet you still choose to fight me, knowing you were in no condition to do so. I don’t know if you act out of braveness or stupidity.”

"And you still couldn’t finish the job” she glares at him, hoping to not seem as week as she feels, but her voice is coarse and trembles as she’s speaking.

“Seem like your magic will do the job for me.” His response is sharp, he has no pity for her situation, no, he sounds as if he’s accusing her. “Whether you admit it or not, you need my help. Your survival depends on me, little flame.” Valtor's voice gets a bit louder with each word.

Bloom scoffs “Oh, sure. Because clearly, nothing says ‘help’ like kidnapping.”

“You fell out of the air on your own princess, if anything picking up trash would be more accurate.” He speaks though gritted teeth, his response is harsh. He grips her hand tighter, not enough to hurt her, but the grasp is definitely uncomfortable now. Then without warning he lets go of her and sits back in his chair.

Bloom looks up to him confused. The warmth she was feeling suddenly disappears. It’s replaced by a violent feeling of emptiness, the pain in her head grows unbearable and she has to shut her eyes. Her chest feels like it’s burning again, she’s gasping for air, hoping it will ease the pain, but it only worsens. A scream escapes her lips as her back arches in agony. Her magic is no longer hers, it has become something feral, alive, with a mind of it’s own and it’s protesting her with everything it has. She thrashes weakly against the bed, as much as her strained body allows. Before her mind begins to slip back into the sweet release of unconsciousness Bloom feels something warm on her left cheek.

The warmth spreads through her entire body calming every inch it reaches. The chaos subdued, it’s not gone, but watching and waiting to be freed again.
When she can finally open her eyes again Valtor is standing above her, gently holding his hand to her face. Bloom subconsciously leans further into his palm.

“You need me.” He whispers

“no.” Her voice is an unwanted whimper

Valtor sits down in his chair, releasing her face as he leans back again. Bloom can feel the freezing cold again and instinctively grasps his hand, before the pain can get worse.
A few moments pass before Bloom can look him in the eyes again. Her body shivers—whether from exhaustion or the cold, she isn’t sure. Valtor notices as well and with a subtle flick or his wrist the flames in the fireplace grow bigger and brighter, emitting more warmth.

“You should be careful, little flame. I could let you burn.”

She knows that he’s right. For reasons unknown to her, her magic responds to him. She can feel her power reaching out to his and letting it in, having it guide the otherwise uncontrollable force that’s raging inside her. As much as her magic needs him right now, she refuses to accept that. It’s like the universe is playing a cruel trick on her, why is he the one who can help her? Why is the one she’s been resenting this entire year the one whose touch is so calming to her? Bloom can’t help but glare at him, as he softly smiles down at her, he’s definitely enjoying this way too much!

“If you keep glaring at me like that, Bloom. I might start to think you enjoy looking at me.”

Bloom doesn’t respond and turns away from him. She might be depending on his magic for some infuriating reason, but she does not want to entertain him.

“Silent treatment? Now you’re just being cruel.” He laughs.

"Is this a joke to you?" she musters as much anger as her weakened body allows and glares at him. Her anger falters. She has never seen him smile like this—gentle, kind, reassuring. Nothing like the grins she’s seen before. There is no trace of superiority or smugness. This is an earnest smile. She hates to admit it, but it suits him. The small wrinkles around his eyes, the way they nearly close as he laughs, the slight tilt of his head — it all makes him seem almost... human.

Valtor sees her face change. The anger vanishes, replaced by something soft. His smile fades. Why is she looking at him like that?
He leans back in his chair, as if the distance might make this strange feeling disappear. But it lingers.
Her big blue eyes shimmer with something unfamiliar—like a small fairy using magic for the first time. People either glare at him with hate or gaze up at him in expectation. But this? This is neither. It's something else entirely.

Valtor clears his throat “I think you need to rest.”

Before Bloom has a chance to react to him, he places his hand over her head casting a very strong sleeping spell and she slips back into unconsciousness. He stays next to her for a bit longer, his fingers drawing gentle circles on the back of her hand.
Valtor sits there for a while, just looking at her, his finger still tracing shapes over her skin. His magic is intertwined with hers, the connection sparking new energy and invigorating him. But there’s something else, something far more dangerous creeping into his thoughts. He doesn’t know if he can let that feeling go again.
The fire crackles beside them, its glow flickering across Bloom’s sleeping face. She was drawn to fire as a child. And now, without realizing it, she’s playing with it again.

“What are you doing to me, Bloom?”

Chapter Text

Valtor sits in his armchair, which he moved next to his bed. His hand only left Bloom’s to turn a page of the book he was reading. His eyes burn from the lack of sleep and dry air due to the flames in the fire place that he is using for light and a source of heat for Bloom. Her body has stopped shivering violently, but every time the fire dims, it starts again. So he keeps the room warm.

Blinking begins to hurt even more, so he closes his eyes for a moment and puts the book down. He’s been reading every book he can find about the dragon flame, Enchantix and incomplete or unstable fairy magic. The Enchantix books are the hardest to get through, the positive attitude and unnecessary adjectives make it pretty obvious that they were written by fairies. If he reads one more line about ‘the wonderful ability to save the dearest people around you’ or the ‘absolutely marvelous responsibility the magnificent transformation brings,’ this book will end up being the next thing fueling the fire. After a few moments of resting his eyes he picks up the last book from the pile of material he collected from the cloud tower library.
There is pathetically little information about incomplete or unstable magic and nothing he read was encouraging to his cause. There are few known cases of fairy power becoming unstable. Sure, some might get mental blocks from time to time, but incomplete Enchantix transformations that’s unheard of.

A few fairies who experienced a shift in their magic became witches, drawing power from darker sources. Others overcame the issue, and claimed ‘‘it only made them stronger and how thankful they are that they got the opportunity to grow from this experience’.

Most fairies died.

His fingers draw circles on Bloom’s hand as he reads about the violent ways fairies have perished from their own magic, how it became uncontrollable and destroyed them from the inside. He can feel the power roaring under his fingers as he gets to the part where its described in grave detail how fairies have withered away from their magic. Their bodies began to break down from the inside, their energy gnawing at them once they lost control. In the end, they died in an explosion—destructive, violent, like a dying star.

One final burst of light, and then… nothing.

Page 143. Althea - Day 12
She’s been getting worse. The healers don’t know why. I’m scared. I never thought I would see Althea in a state like this, she’s usually so strong, fierce and lively. We’ve been trying so hard to get our charmix. It came natural to me and Eris but Althea struggled. But she pulled through, it’s been a bit over two week since she managed to gain hers and everything seemed so perfect in the beginning. Our conversion finally worked and her connection to her element earth became so much stronger. I don’t know what happened but one day during a training session she just collapsed. When she woke up she was in pain, screaming and crying, it was horrible. In the beginning she was begging for help, but after two days she began screaming for release instead. It was horrible. I never thought I would ever hear someone plead for death. They put her in a magically induced coma afterwards. Headmistress Calypso suggested I start writing a diary, to sort out my thoughts. I don’t know if this is helping but I’m gonna give it a try. She also mentioned this being a report for whatever is happening to Althea, who knows maybe one day this will end up in a book about fairies that overcame great things, because Althea will beat this -whatever it is. She has to. She’s one of the brightest fairies I know and I just wouldn’t know what to do without her. She is the earth to my sky, the grounding force to my magic’s flow. Please pull through this Althea. Eris and I need you. Earth, wind and fire – we just aren’t the same without you.

Page 144. Althea – Day 17
I don’t know what to do. They have forbidden me from seeing her again. Veins appeared all over her body, first just small glowing streaks but they grew bigger. She looked like a cracked teacup. I feel sick just thinking about it. The last few days I did nothing but sit beside her and hold her hand but this time was different. When I reached out for her hand it crumbled under my touch. It turned to dust when I touched her, what if I hurt her? I don’t know if I could live with myself if I did. I can still feel it, no matter how often I wash my hands. They threw me out after that. I don’t know what to do. I’m so scared to lose her.

Flipping the page, he finds something worse—a report from the hospital where she had been treated. A report about its destruction. It blew up, a magical explosion that obliterated the hospital and a few buildings surrounding it. The fairy died and after that her power tore her to shreds. It did the same to everything around it.

Valtor closes the book. It slips from his lap to the floor, losing the page he is on as he stands up, the armchair scrapes over the floor, but he doesn’t care. He feels sick – not because of that fairy in the report, but the thought that this might happen to Bloom. If she were to die from this the destruction of her magical power would be far greater than of this measly little nature fairy. She carries the power that created the magical dimension, it might also have the force to end it. His hold on her hand tightens, he’s scared that she might fall apart if he lets go.

He studies her face, looking if any veins appear on her skin or any sign that might imply her condition worsened, but it’s flawless as always. For someone in a situation like this she manages to look like she has nothing more than a fever. Her skin is slightly pale while her cheeks have a red tint. Sweat slightly glistens on her forehead. Bloom looks sick but intact.

She is beyond any doubt stronger than that fairy. Would her strength buy her more time... or only hasten her fall? The idea of Bloom crumbling to dust before his eyes makes him sink to his knees. He takes her hand in both of his, pressing it against his cheek and feels her magic responding to his panic as it flares up. Valtor forces himself to calm down. She won’t end like the others, because his magic is guiding her, as long as he can calm her power, she will be fine. She won’t die. He will not allow it.
As he calms down this magic flows in rhythm with hers again. Like a graceful dance, making the world around them slow, as if they had captured a moment in time itself. Comparing this connection to water would almost be insulting but the movement is so natural, like the flow of a river, that manages to shape its surroundings over time but peaceful during the time being. When he closes his eyes and just feels he can almost get lost in the warmth of her power. As one can drown in a river he might lose himself in her magic. He craves this feeling whenever they are apart, her touch became addicting and he has no intention of beating this desire.

He has read through the books and scrolls he got from the library and the last book is still abandoned on the floor. He picks it up and places it on his bedside table, closing it in the process. Valtor has the intention of finishing it but he needs time before he can submit himself to these mental images again.

Looking at Bloom he gets up. He waves a hand, sending the books floating through the air. They stack themselves neatly on the coffee table in front of the fireplace—he’ll return them later. For now, he needs the space for something far more important. His mind is already set on his next move. Griffin. That old hag hoards more than just textbooks in her office. Among the standard materials, he’s certain there are scrolls and forbidden texts tucked away—information too dangerous for mere students. Exactly the kind he needs.

The Trix are lounging in Griffin’s office. Stormy draped herself over the couch, lazily playing with small swirls of wind, Darcy sits on the other side and tries to read a book, though Stormy had already messed up her pages three times.
Icy is sitting in a chair in front of them, on the other side of the coffee table. Before her stands a bouquet of flowers in an intricate vase. Muted shades of rose, yellow, and orange softenen the otherwise dreary office, but they were long past their prime. They must have been here since Griffin left. A small card beside the vase confirmed her suspicion—a gift from Faragonda. That explains why Icy finds them so ugly.

She picks one from the bouquet, rolling the brittle stem between her fingers. The flower had already begun to wilt. Slowly, she let her magic spread over her fingertips, the cold creeping into the soft pink petals. Ice crystals bloom over the plant as it freezes completely.

It could remain like this forever—preserved, untouchable. But Icy couldn’t stop herself. With a final pulse of her power, the petals crack, then crumbled to snowy dust in her palm. She lets the frozen remains slip through her fingers. She repeats this process a few times and reaches for another. This time grabbing a red one—the most vibrant flower in the arrangement. Slowly, she let her magic seep in, chilling it to the very edge of destruction. But she hesitated.
The red shimmered beneath the icy film, catching the sunlight, making it sparkle like a gemstone. It was delicate, fragile, yet still fighting against the cold. Every time the warmth of the sun threatened to melt her ice, she froze it again.
She is so focused on keeping the flower in this perfect, suspended state that she didn’t hear the door behind her swing open.
The sharp bang of wood hitting the wall made her jump.
Her concentration snapped.
The red camellia shatters into a flurry of snow.

Valtor enters the office without a word. He walks up to one of the large bookshelves and begins pulling books and scrolls from the shelves, barely skimming the titles before shoving them aside.
The swiftness of his motions indicates he’s in a hurry, while the clumsiness of his movement, the way papers slip through his fingers, the way he creases pages as he shoves them back into the shelves—reveals something else. He’s exhausted.

“Valtor?” Icy’s voice is softer than usual, full of uncertainty.

“hm?” his answer isn’t even a word and his back remains turned towards them.

"Are we helping you, or are we just here to watch you spiral?” Stormy flicks her wrist, sending the gust of wind she was toying with, towards Valtor. It whips against his back tangling his hair.

"If I needed your help, I would have asked. Clearly, I haven’t." He turns around sharply, his hands moving the hair out of his face.

“Because you definitely look like you have your shit together right now” Stormy hangs her head over the backrest, staring up at Valtor upside down.

Darcy puts down her book and joins Stormy over the backrest, her long hair almost touching the floor “Stormy is right, you definitely look like you could use some rest”

“I will detach your heads and reattach them upside down if you keep pestering me like that.” His voice was it’s usual sharp tone but with a hint of amusement because of the scene in front of him.
Darcy shoots up immediately, a bit too fast and she gets dizzy for a moment.

“Ugh you’re no fun” But Stormy also sits up straight again.

“You can’t bring an unconscious Bloom into your bedroom and expect us not to ask questions” Icy’s voice comes out louder than she intended.

Valtor sighs and leans against the bookshelf “I already told you her Enchantix is incomplete and I will help her”

“Help her to control her you mean?” Darcy raises an eyebrow

“Exactly”

“But why is her Enchantix not complete?” Icy sits up in her chair.

“Enchantix is the transformation of sacrifice. You were there when she transformed, what was missing?”

“She didn’t safe anyone” Stormy answers Valtors rhetorical question.

“Exactly, because our little princess decided to force her transformation, leaving her stronger but also not in control of said power. I noticed what was going on during our fight and saw my opening.”

“And how are you going to fix her?” Icy isn’t exactly sure why she cares, but something about Bloom ending like this doesn’t feel right.

Valtor walks over to Griffin’s office chair and lets himself fall into it “That I don’t know yet”

“And once you find out, then what? She’s going to be your new puppet and you will forget about everything we’ve done for you?”

“Oh Darcy jealousy really isn’t a good look for you” He laughs “I wont forget what you have done for me but Bloom’s power will make this a whole lot easier.”

“So what have you figured out so far?” Darcy feels more willing to help.

“Nothing good.” He tries to fight the images that are trying to creep their way into his mind “Most fairies don’t make it and when they-” he pauses for a brief moment “-die, their magic becomes destructive”
“What about the ones that survived?” Icy doesn’t know why his answer is hitting her so hard.

“They either completed their transformations or in less severe cases some became witches”

“So either Bloom needs to finish her Enchantix or become a witch? It’s that easy?” Stormy concludes.

“Nothing about this is easy!” Valtor clutches his hands to fists. He takes a deep breath “In this state Bloom wont be saving anyone if there even was someone to save. In order to gain Enchantix fairies need to save someone from their home planet”
“Well, that’s stupid” The laws and nature of fairy magic are a mystery to Stormy, one she has no intention of solving.

“That’s one way to say it” He agrees “And because I will not be brining Domino back, I’m not even sure if that would be possible, and I don’t see a future where Bloom would ever abandon her righteous little morals or friends, we will need to find something else."p>

"I will find another way."

Chapter Text

The atmosphere in Faragonda’s office feels heavy, the usually cheery decoration of flowers in decorative vases, colorful books and lively pictures now feels like a cruel mockery, taunting the grieving Winx in it’s unchanged state of pristineness.

Faragonda sits behind her desk, her hands folded to support her head. She looks at the girls before her, but none of them meet her gaze. Some stare distractedly out the window behind her; others keep their eyes fixed on the ground. She can sense the presence of the Specialists outside the door, their anxiousness seeping through the walls as they wait for their friends.

“Girls” a sigh escapes her as she speaks “What happened?”

The Winx mostly turn to look at her, but none of them answers.

“Stella?”

The young princess sits slumped in one of the chairs, staring down at her feet. Her bangs cover her eyes. Slowly, she lifts her gaze to meet the headmistress. Her eyes are filled with unshed tears, clinging to the edges, threatening to spill.

“I don’t know” Her voice cracks

Faragonda softens slightly but doesn’t let up. “Can you tell me why Bloom isn’t with you?”

Stella’s tears silently fall and Faragonda looks at the other girls, hoping one of them would respond.

“Answer the headmistress!” Griselda steps forward from her spot by the bookshelves, her tone not as sharp as usual but still firm.

“Valtor took her” "Musa spits out the answer, still brimming with anger. Faragonda’s questions only make it worse."

“How could that happen?”

Musa turns her head away. She knows she’ll say something disrespectful if she keeps talking, so silence is her best choice. She leans back in her chair, clenching her hands into fists. Her nails press into her palms, the sharp pressure grounding her.

“We don’t know” Flora says, voice laced with desperation.

“How can you not know?” This conversation is violently slow and Faragonda can feel her patience wavering.

“We weren’t there when they fought. Bloom lured Valtor away away and left us to deal with the Trix.” The fairy of nature’s voice grows quieter the more she recounts what happened.

“And you let her leave?”

“We didn’t let her do anything! We can’t do shit against Valtor, and Bloom knows that.”

“Miss Musa!” Griselda scolds “Language!”

“It’s alright,” Faragonda interrupts. She knows Musa’s outburst isn’t meant as disrespect.

“I’m just shocked that she would leave the group in her state. Facing off against Valtor alone is very reckless, especially after what happened during training.” The headmistress hopes that explaining her thoughts makes her questions seem like less of an accusation.

“What state are you talking about?” Tecna leans forward in her chair. “We know she fainted during training, but she didn’t tell us why.”

“Oh, I had assumed Bloom would have told you”

“Tell us what?” Tecna’s irritation is growing. Can this woman please stop speaking in riddles?

“As you girls are aware, she did not achieve her Enchantix the same way you did. Her transformation was born from sheer willpower, not through sacrifice. That was unexpected—even unprecedented—but her Dragon Flame allowed her to take on the form regardless.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad” Aisha says, forcing optimism into her voice to hide her growing unease.

Faragonda’s expression darkens. “However, there were consequences. Her Enchantix is incomplete.”

“What does that mean?” Flora is worried, how did she not notice her friend struggling?

“Unlike yours, her transformation lacks a stable foundation.”

“How will that affect her?” Tecna asks. The revelation intrigues her as much as it terrifies her.

“It’s hard to say. Unstable fairy magic is not something we encounter often… and when we have, the results were far from pretty.”

“Can you please just tell us what’s going on with Bloom? Stella snaps, frustration seeping into her voice. “I don’t want to have to sneak into Alfea’s secret library to get the information, but I will if I have to.” She feels hollow. Her best friend hid this from her. Now she’s in the clutches of a power-hungry sociopath, and she can’t shake the feeling that it’s all her fault.

Faragonda exhales, choosing her next words carefully. “When magic spirals out of control, fairies must either learn to adapt… or risk losing themselves. Some, in desperation, have turned to witchcraft. Their magic remains, but they no longer follow the path of harmony that we teach here at Alfea. Fairies seek to exist in unity with their magic—witches, however, bend magic to their will. They force it, reshape it, command it. That’s why they have no natural transformations; magic cannot flourish under such pressure.”

“Bloom would never become a witch!” Stella’s voice is trembling. Bloom has always felt an instinctive connection to fairies, even before she knew they existed. It had once manifested as fascination, but Stella knows now that it was something deeper—an unconscious expression of who Bloom was meant to be.

“What about the ones who didn’t become witches?” Tecna has started taking notes.

Faragonda hesitates for a moment, watching Tecna’s fingers move swiftly, typing on her phone. “Those cases are… complicated.”

“Complicated how?” Musa presses.

“Magic is a living force. It needs balance. If a fairy cannot control it and refuses to follow the witch’s path, it may consume her instead.”

Flora swallows hard. “Consume her?”

"Magic always finds a way. If its wielder cannot contain it, the power will seek another means to thrive."

“She would lose her powers?” Aisha asks, stunned.

“Worse—her magic would take her with it.”

“So, Bloom turning into a witch is her only way of survival?” Stella is shocked.

“I’m afraid that’s also not a possibility for her” Faragonda shakes her head, looking genuinely upset. “The Dragon Flame does not tolerate control—it thrives through harmony and purpose. It cannot be bent to a witch’s will.”

“But I thought Valtor has the Dragon Flame” The fairy of technology said, more amazed than anything. The more they learned about Bloom’s magic, the more it fascinated her.

“No, he was created using a corrupted spark of the Dragon Flame, he may be connected to it but cannot yield it”

Tecna’s eyes narrowed. “How can a spark of the Dragon Flame even be corrupted? I thought that wouldn’t be possible.”

“When the Dragon created the Magical Dimension, its fire spread across everything—breathing life into the worlds we know today. But after that, it was exhausted. It had to rest, and it did so on Domino. During that time, its power was spread so thin, so far, and it was vulnerable. That’s when a spark got corrupted. And that’s the spark that was later used to create Valtor.”

Stella frowned. “But didn’t the Trix steal the Dragon Flame from Bloom and use it against us? That seems pretty witchy to me.”

“What the Trix did wasn’t real wielding,” Faragonda said. “They took it when it was still fractured—when Bloom barely understood what it was. She also went through a lot of emotional turmoil during that time. The Flame was raw, unfocused energy at that point. They used it, yes, but only because it was weakened. Even then, they never really controlled it.”

She let that sink in for a moment before continuing.

“Witches can hijack power, but they can’t merge with it. Bloom is tied to the Dragon Flame at its source. Now that it’s fully awakened inside her, trying to force it—like a witch would—would tear her apart. The connection is too deep. She can’t become a witch… not because she’s too good, but because the Flame itself would reject it. And if it does—she won’t survive it.”

Aisha shifted, arms crossed. “But what about Darkar? Didn’t he to turn her into a witch?”

“What Darkar did… wasn’t control—it was corruption. He didn’t force the Dragon Flame to obey him. He used dark magic to twist Bloom’s perception, to infect her emotions and thoughts. The darkness he planted didn’t take over her magic—it took over her. And through her, it accessed the Flame. That’s why it worked. The Dragon Flame wasn’t submitting to him—it was still responding to Bloom. She may have not been herself, but still a fairy.”

Flora looked down, her voice barely a whisper. “She must’ve felt so alone. To have her thoughts twisted like that…”

The air in Faragonda’s office shifted. The girls weren’t crying anymore, not actively. But the grief was still there, buried beneath the anger, the guilt, and something else that was beginning to rise: purpose.
Faragonda leans back slightly in her chair, folding her hands on the desk in front of her. “I need you to listen to me carefully now.”

She waites until every pair of eyes is on her.

“I want you to go after Bloom. Bring her back and we will find a way to fix this. But not today.”

Aisha shoots to her feet like she’s been slapped. “Excuse me?”

“You’re exhausted. Emotionally, magically, mentally. If you charge into battle like this, you’ll fail before you even reach her.”

“We don’t have time to rest!” Musa argues, her voice sharp. “We don’t know what he’s doing to her this very moment.”

“If we wait, we lose her.” Aisha’s eyes are blazing. “We lose Bloom.”

“You risk losing all of you if you go now,” Faragonda says, more quietly this time, but no less serious. “He’s counting on your emotions. On your recklessness.”

Tecna exhales through her nose, her fingers tapping restlessly against her thigh. “She’s right. Going in blind didn’t work before. We need information, a strategy.”

“I still hate this,” Stella muttered, arms folded tight. “Sitting around, acting like everything’s fine.”

“It’s not about acting” Flora said gently, squeezing her hand. “Bloom wouldn’t give up hope. So neither will we.”

“We’ll rest,” Stella continues, her jaw tight. “But that doesn’t mean we’re giving up. It doesn’t mean we’ve forgiven ourselves.”

“It just means we’re still in this fight,” Tecna adds.

Aisha starts to pace. She stops by the window, then turns back to face Faragonda. “Three days” she says firmly. “That’s all I’m giving you. Help us prepare. But after that—We’re going. Rested or not. With preparation or without.”

Faragonda nods. “Three days. You’ll use every moment of them.”

“I can help you with tracking spells,” Griselda offers from the corner, her usual severity dulled. “And we’ll make sure the library is open to you. No restrictions.”

Musa finally sits forward, her hands gripping the arms of the chair. “We’re going to get her back. No matter what it takes.”

Flora places a hand over her heart. “We’ll bring her home.”

Chapter Text

The Winx leave Faragonda’s office. Outside, the rain is still pouring—dull, gray, and endless, like a reflection of the girls’ mood. Sunshine feels like a memory from another life.

The heavy wooden doors glide shut behind them. Griselda doesn’t move. She just stands there, watching the headmistress in silence.

Faragonda sinks back into her chair, and for the first time, she looks small in it. Since becoming headmistress, there had been nothing she couldn’t handle. She had fought in the most elite magical group the dimension had ever seen. Her unlikely friendship with Miss Griffin had begun reshaping the entire relationship between fairies and witches. It was slow progress—but progress.

But this? This feels different. And maybe, just maybe, guiding the future of these young fairies would turn out to be the greatest challenge of all.

She knew how to handle stress and uncertainty—these past two years had been anything but peaceful—but this was something else entirely.
Valtor is back. And with him, the haunting reminder of her greatest failure.

Even though the Ancestral Witches and Valtor were ultimately defeated, Domino still fell. The most powerful kingdom in the Magical Dimension was lost, along with its rulers.

There had been no real victory—only survival. They banished the witches, but the price was devastating.

It had taken entire armies to bring down those four. And now, one of them has returned—stronger than ever, tearing through the realms from within.

Could her power still match his?

Faragonda understands her own strength. But she also knows the truth: time has worn her down. Her magic is no longer what it once was.

Their best hope lies in her students.

The Winx are already at the heart of this conflict. Stella and Aisha had watched their kingdoms suffer under Valtor’s attacks.

And then there was Bloom.

Valtor’s fixation on the last survivor of Domino—on its lost princess—is what truly frightens her.
Because Bloom might be the only one with the power to stop him.

A cough pulls Faragonda from the depths of her thoughts.

Griselda steps forward, clearing her throat before speaking, steadying her voice.
“What should we do now, Headmistress?”

Faragonda doesn’t answer right away. She turns her back to Griselda and walks to the window behind her desk, watching the heavy rain drum against the glass, escaping the suddenly huge frame of her chair.

“What we always do,” she says finally. “We persevere. Valtor won’t win. He’s been defeated before. The girls will bring Bloom home. They’ll end this.”

“My concerns don’t lie with the girls’ abilities” Griselda says, her voice tight. She hesitates—the words are there, but saying them aloud feels dangerous. Faragonda glances back, her eyes sharp with silent prompting.

Griselda swallows hard. “What if he turns her?”

Faragonda turns back to the window, gaze fixed on the storm outside.

“Then we follow protocol.”

Griselda stiffens. “But we can’t. She’s our student—we swore to protect her.”

Faragonda doesn’t look away from the rain.

“She agreed to it. In fact… it was her idea.”

During their intense study session, the sun had set and risen once—and now it’s once again slowly disappearing behind the trees surrounding Cloud Tower.

Griffin’s office is bathed in soft orange light, which has lulled the Trix into a deep slumber.

Darcy is draped elegantly over the couch, her hair spilling over the headrest she’s using as a pillow. An open book rests on her stomach — she tried to fight off sleep for as long as she could, but it won.

Stormy sits slouched on the floor, her arms crossed on the table, head propped against them. A thin string of drool trails from the corner of her mouth to the wooden surface, where a small puddle is beginning to form.

Icy is curled up in a chair, the book she’d been reading now balanced across her eyes like a makeshift sleep mask, shielding her from the last bit of daylight, the pages slightly shift through the motion of her soft breathing.

Outside the setting sun disappears behind a wall of heavy storm clouds. It’s been raining on and off for the past two days, and by the sound of the thunder cracking through the sky, it doesn’t plan to stop anytime soon.

Rain begins to patter against the windows again. The ground below barely had a chance to dry, but the storm is ruthless — it soaks the forest floor all over again.

Valtor is restless. His head pounds from everything he’s been forcing into it. With a groan, he snaps his book shut—there’s no point in pushing further. His eyes can barely focus on the words anymore, it’s like the letters shift on the page every time he tries to decipher them.

Sleep has never come easily to him. He usually relies on potions or spells to force rest, though only a few are strong enough to have any real effect. He requires less sleep than the average sorcerer, but it’s been a while since he managed to rest, and he can feel the toll it’s taking on his body—and his mind.

After studying all day with only a few brief pauses, the urge to move overcomes him. He rises slowly, stretching out his legs and back, then decides on a walk through Cloud Tower. The halls are empty and cold, the wind slices through the stone corridors, echoing like a distant whisper.
Somewhere a window must be open.

The vast emptiness might unsettle others, but not him. He finds comfort in the knowledge that nothing follows him except for the sound of his own footsteps.

He was created in the shadows, alone.

He was brought up by power-hungry witches, alone.

Valtor refuses to use the word “raised” to describe what happened to him. Where others had childhoods, he had a purpose to fulfill. From the moment he could read, he studied without pause, and he was created with that ability. He never belonged to himself; the expectations of others claimed him first.

Perhaps that’s why he feels the tiniest bit of empathy for Bloom, as she suffers from the same weight of unlimited demands that shape her existence.

She may not be aware of it, but it’s looming over her like a crown made of thorns—glorious from afar, painful to wear.

Valtor always guessed that Bloom was only born to carry the fire of the dragon flame, a power that is passed down through the bloodline of Domino’s royal family, but for a long time no one was born wielding the ancient power.

The king and queen had a lot of hope that their daughter Daphne could be the one to break the long line of dragon flameless fairies and sorcerers, but the power was not bestowed upon her. Having a second child was another attempt at gaining it.

It’s highly unusual for royal families to have more than one child, as they like to ensure all their resources go toward their one successor. Sibling rivalry used to plague royal bloodlines, where the older sibling may be in line for the throne, but the younger one might see themselves as more powerful and therefore more fitting to be the rightful ruler.

Bloom was born with a purpose, expectations were placed upon her before she ever saw the light of day. And even without the kingdom she was born to protect, the only thing that changed was the person setting those demands. Instead of her kingdom’s fate, she now carries the weight of whatever Faragonda feels too important to do herself.

One thing Valtor found out during his studies is that a fairy does not just break the shackles of her transformation, not without outside pressure. Whether it’s a fairy who’s pushing their friend to do better or their own fear of falling behind, but one does not simply defy their own magic.

Lost in his own thoughts he isn’t paying any attention to where he’s going and finds himself in front of the door to his own room. The room Bloom is currently occupying. He quietly pushes the door open. Inside, the room is lit by the fireplace, the flames flicker violently and the shadows dance across the walls with each movement.

Valtor does not remember how messy he had left the room. The armchair is loaded with books. They are stacked so high on the plush furniture that he had to move his coat onto the couch, so as not to have the dusty books lean onto his most prized piece of clothing. Some of the literature still fell onto the carpet. He really needs to sort all the books back, but that is something that can wait until tomorrow. His gaze shifts deeper into the room and he can now see the bed, where he expects to see the sleeping form of Bloom, but to his surprise it’s empty.

Vatlor swings open the door completely, it crashes into the stone wall and the bang left the door shaking for a brief moment. With his now unobstructed view he can see the entirety of the room and a cold wind hits him in the face. The window is wide open and the noise of the storm, that is wailing through the corridors, originates from here. In front of the window, he can see the shape of a person, the shadow of a dress and the slight sparkle of wings tell him it’s the lost fairy standing there. She has her head turned towards the door, probably because of his anything but quiet entrance.

Neither one of them can fully see the other person and for a moment they just stare at the outlines of each other. Valtor steps into the bedroom, the door closing behind him.

“Trying to escape, are we?” He jokes; he can see that she is in no state to attempt an escape.

Bloom is hunched on the windowsill, instead of their usual proud position her wings are hanging behind her, like a wet towel they are sagging off her back, a soft shimmer indicating that they are magical.

“Just needed some fresh air.” Her voice cracks as she speaks, her throat is dry and itchy.

“Let’s get you back in bed.”

Bloom can’t respond as her legs threaten to buckle under her weight, and she completely sinks onto the windowsill. Within a moment Valtor appears next to her, his arms grab her shoulders, and he leans her back onto his chest to steady her. He can feel her heavy breathing through the violent flow of her magic as she relaxed a bit into his touch, as their magical connection strengthens her a bit.

“Just a bit longer.” she looks up at him with tired eyes, the exhaustion clearly visible on her face.

Valtor stares down at her, the blue of her eyes fascinates him, and he could easily get lost in the depth of them. With a snap of his fingers the couch moves behind them. Bloom gets startled by the sudden movement. He knew that she wasn’t asking, no matter what he did she would find her way back to the window, but he could at least make her silly request to have the wind blow in her face less stressful on her fatigued body.

"If standing in a storm looking tragic helps you cope, at least do it without falling on your face. Sit."

Letting go of Bloom Valtor lowers himself onto the couch with composed ease, his left arm resting on the armrest while the other drapes lazily over the backrest. His ankle perched over the other knee. He must admit, Griffin has a fine taste in comfortable furniture.

Valtor looks up at Bloom, a smugness plastered across his face

"You can listen to the storm just as well from the couch. Humor me, and your legs."

She hates how Valtor is sitting there, radiating smugness like he owns the place—as if he isn’t the plague that’s swept through her life, leaving nothing but ruin in his wake. She hates how satisfied he looks, knowing she needs him. But what she hates most is that she’s starting to crave the calm his presence brings, that she can’t quite convince herself she doesn’t feel safer when he’s close and that her instincts no longer scream when he touches her – only whisper.

Unsteady without his support, Bloom stumbles to the far end of the couch. She tries to sit, but her legs give out and she collapses onto the cushions—the jolt sending a sharp throb through her skull. She positions herself as far from Valtor as the furniture allows her to.

It doesn’t take a genius to understand that this is her way of showing resistance. Normally, such defiance would stoke his anger. But the sight before him—her stubbornness wrapped in weakness—only amuses him.

She curls into the far side of the couch, legs folded against her like a shield. One elbow anchors her to the armrest, chin cradled in her hand, and her eyes stay locked on the outside as she stoically watches the rain.

“You look mad, Bloom. Want to tell me why?”

Bloom scoffs as she turns toward him.

“How could I not be mad? Just this afternoon I was fighting —fighting you—and now you’re there telling me I need to rely on you? You? Of all people? I can’t go more than a few hours without needing you for something, whatever it is you’re doing to me.”

“Yesterday”

“What?” Bloom asks perplexed

“Our battle was yesterday”

Bloom begins to shiver “You’re telling me I’ve been out for a day?”

“More like a day and a half,” he replies, casual. “But who’s counting?”

The rage keeps building, her breathing becomes more rapid and the pain, she’s been trying so hard to ignore, also grows stronger.

“Are you in pain?” With how unstable magic is linked to emotion this little outburst must have taken quite the toll on her.

Bloom doesn’t answer. She turns away, staring blankly into the distance.

Valtor stretches his arm over the backrest, palm open toward her.

“I can help you, Bloom… if you let me.”

She turns her head, eyes flicking from his face to his hand, and back again. Another sharp stab of pain breaks her resistance. Slowly, her hand inches toward his—but falters. She rubs her fingers together, uncertain. The pain gets worse, but is it worth reaching out to him? Would he mock her for it? Would she hate herself for it?

His gaze never leaves her face. He watches every hesitation, every shift, as she balances between pride and pain. A wince appears on her face.

Finally, her fingers brush across his, featherlight. The touch tickles. A faint smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.

Bloom meets his eyes—uncertain, wary. But the softness she sees there stuns her.

And to her own surprise, she lets her hand fall fully into his.

As their powers intertwine, Bloom finds the air in her lungs again and closes her eyes. Valtor, meanwhile, forgets how to breathe—the dance of their magic too intoxicating.

They stay like this for a while. Valtor doesn’t dare to move, afraid that the slightest move could startle her and she would break their connection.

Bloom opens her eyes again but can’t bring herself to look at him. If she does she might see the softness in his eyes again, a softness that threatens to unravel everything she believes.

How can he be this gentle? How can someone capable of so much destruction offer her so much kindness?

“Is the pain better?” His voice is as soft as their touch.

“Yeah.” she says quietly, still avoiding his gaze. “Thanks.” The word is barely a whisper.

“How have you been managing it?” His tone stays gentle, and Bloom can feel his eyes on her, studying her.

She draws in a deep breath, then exhales slowly as she lifts her gaze to meet his.

What frightens her isn’t the question—it’s the expression he wears while asking it. His brow is slightly furrowed, his eyes wide and unguarded. Concern. Genuine concern.

This isn’t the face of the monster she’s fought. And that terrifies her.

“It’s been manageable most of the time. But then there are these bursts, that make me feel like my head is going to explode.”

“Are they frequent?”

“I don’t really know. I seem to spend most of my time knocked out.” She admits

Her stretched arm begins to ache, so she shifts closer to the middle of the couch, bending her elbow to ease the joint—but her hand stays resting in his.

Valtor watches each movement carefully. How she shifts slowly, little by little moving towards him, while keeping a careful distance. She keeps her legs close to her body, taking up as little space as she possibly can.

After settling on her new spot on the plush furniture Bloom’s head snaps towards Valtor eyes open wide. He just stares back, unsure of what that means.

“You’ve been there.”

“What?”

“Domino. You’ve been there, before it got-“ She stops, because he is part of the reason her kingdom no longer exists.

Valtor sighs, he knows why she suddenly stopped mid-sentence, but the curiosity in her eyes remains. “I have”

Her eyes grow even wider. She leans in, her fingers curling more firmly around his.
“Can you tell me about it?” she whispers, breathless with excitement.

“You want me to tell you about Domino?” He clarifies

“Please. There are only a few books about its history, nothing about how it actually was and Faragonda doesn’t talk to me about that.” The desperation in her voice surprises him, has Faragonda really kept her in the dark about who she is and where she comes from?

“It was” Valtor pauses, looking for the right words to describe Domino in it’s prime “Grand”
He reminisces, visualizing the few times he visited the place. “Domino was the epitome of power and they made sure you could see that. The castle was enormous—its arches and spires so tall, the Great Dragon itself could have walked through them without bowing its head.” Valtor notices how Bloom is staring at him, following every word he says as she’s hanging on his retelling. It makes him chuckle and he shakes his head to hide his smile. “It was truly something else.” He finishes.

Her hand glides out of his, and she shifts, leaning into the backrest. Her shoulder brushes his fingers, and he pulls back instinctively—only to let his hand settle gently on the shoulder she’s turned toward him. She doesn’t flinch. Even in profile, he can see how far away her thoughts have drifted.

She looks utterly enthralling to him, the fire behind her deepens the red of her hair, while the light from the moon, that sometimes manages to break through the storm clouds, makes her skin appear like marble. If someone had told him she was a painting, he wouldn’t have questioned it.

Valtor watches as Bloom’s blinks grow slower, her eyes staying shut a moment longer each time. Her head begins to droop forward, and she jerks awake—but only for a second. Before she nods off again, he gently tugs her shoulder, guiding her body toward him. Her head settles on his shoulder, and her upper body leans against his chest.

A faint shiver runs through her, barely perceptible but not to him. He reaches behind and pulls his coat over her, carefully draping it across her resting form. With one arm around her, he can feel her warmth—and beneath it, the deep pulse of magic flowing through her. The very source of the Dragon Flame rests beneath his fingertips.

Absently, lost in thought, his fingers trace up her arm to her shoulder, then slip into her hair. It's soft—duller than usual, perhaps, but still unmistakably hers. He follows a strand between his fingers until it falls away, and the fleeting loss leaves him wanting.

He gently rests his hand on the crown of her head.

Bloom sighs in her sleep and instinctively turns more into his chest, nuzzling her face against him. Valtor resumes the motion, slowly stroking her hair, each pass quieter than the last. The rain taps softly against the window, her breathing steady against him. Eventually, the rhythm lulls him too, and sleep pulls him under.

Chapter Text

The sun filters through the window of Cloud Tower, glinting off the droplets clinging to the glass - remnants of the violent storm that has been plaguing the Magical Dimension on and off over the past few days. It doesn’t seem to be over yet, but for now, the break in the clouds allows the sunlight to gently wake Valtor from his slumber.

The first thing he notices is the tingling in his arm. He may be awake, but his limb remains numb. The reason for the lost feeling lies asleep on his chest, her head pressing against him, the weight that lulled his arm to sleep.

Valtor refuses to move, afraid that even the smallest shift might startle her awake. If she wakes, the moment will be over. So, no matter the pins and needles spreading through his fingers, he stays still, choosing the ache if it means keeping her there a little longer. Her soft, steady breathing soothes him. She’s alive - and, for now, well. His magic keeps her stable; hers fills him with a deep sense of calm and warmth.

He studies her, captivated by how peaceful she looks. Like nothing has happened, like this is the most natural thing in the world. How easily they fell asleep on the couch, her wrapped in his cloak, now repurposed as her blanket. She fits so well in his arms, he realizes.

Bloom shifts, her brow furrowing for a brief moment before relaxing again. She’s dancing on the edge between dreams and waking. It seems best to move her to his bed before she wakes - even though every part of him wants to keep her right where she is. The idea of an embarrassed Bloom, her voice going shrilly defensive over falling asleep in his arms, isn’t something he’s eager to deal with early in the morning.

It takes effort to move his stiff arm, but he manages to lift her easily. He cradles her into his chest one last time before gently moving her into the bed, covering her body with the blanket and moving a strand of hair behind her ear. His gaze lingers for a few more moments.

A breeze hits his side, ruffling his hair with the annoying freshness of a new morning. The fire ate all the logs in the fireplace and must have extinguished some time during the night. With the post storm wind and the missing warmth of the fire the room is noticeably cold. He closes the window, moving as slow as possible to keep the noise to a minimum.

When he turns around, Bloom’s eyes are on him. Her gaze isn’t confused or angry as he expected - only cautious.

“Good morning,” he says with a faint smile.

“Mhm.” The tired noise is all she manages after waking. She’s never been much of a morning person. Flora could attest to that.

“How are we feeling this morning?” His concern hides once again behind a veil of sarcasm.

“I’ve been better,” she croaks.

“I can see that.”

Bloom looks exhausted - more so than yesterday. Her body is heavy with fatigue, and the color drains further from her skin. If this continues, he could lose her in the stark whiteness of his sheets.
She doesn’t respond to his quip. Instead, she stares past him, out the window — a flimsy disguise for how deeply she’s lost in her thoughts.

“Do you need anything?” Valtor steps closer to the bed, his tone urging honesty.

She sighs and breaks her gaze. “A shower?” she says, a hollow laugh escaping her. The sound is empty, echoing the dread of her situation.

“Should I use another hygiene spell?”

“No, I mean - it’s not the same. I know I’m not dirty, but just… washing my hair would be nice.” Her voice falters, embarrassed by the simplicity of her wish.

“I don’t think you’re capable of that at the moment,” he admits quietly. He can’t help but feel sorry for her. All her autonomy has been stripped away. She can’t even take a simple shower.
The disappointment on her face is immediate. Her eyes drift again, lost in some unreachable corner of her mind.

Then, suddenly, Valtor’s face lights up. “I’ll be right back.” He turns on his heel and rushes out, his excitement quickening his steps.

Bloom blinks after him, confused. What in the world is he planning now?

The wizard storms into the nearest dorm room he can find and heads straight for the bathroom. Cloud Tower had been abandoned like a sinking ship - no one had time to pack, so the rooms remain frozen in the moment they were left behind.

In the shower, he scans the shelves for shampoo. A deep purple bottle catches his eye, its label showing a witch with long black hair smirking at the buyer. For hair so gorgeous fairies will want to kill themselves out of jealousy, it boasts. He chuckles. He’s planning to use it on a fairy, but it will do.

Next to it sits the matching conditioner. He takes both. Then, armed with a bucket of warm water, a mug, a fluffy black towel, and the hair products, he hurries back to Bloom’s room.

His excitement practically fills the air when he returns. Bloom stares at him, utterly perplexed. The absurdity of the sight forces a smile from her. There he stands in the doorway, a soft grin tugging at his mouth, his arms overflowing with assorted items - the great Valtor, conqueror of realms, now carrying shampoo and a bucket of water.

He moves the chair behind the head of the bed, helping Bloom to sit up. She follows his lead carefully. Her eyes follow every movement she is painfully aware of every move he does, every breath, even just a movement of his fingers, she’s ready for anything that could come. But he just takes a seat behind her.

Valtor rekindles the fire, warming the room in preparation. He gently pushes Bloom’s hair over the edge of the bed, so it hangs above the bucket he’s placed there. Letting her sit in damp bedding would hardly help her recover.

He runs his fingers through her hair, carefully combing out the tangles. Bloom stiffens at the contact - this is far outside her comfort zone - but she relaxes a little when no harm follows. The gentle motion of his fingers, the way her magic responds to his touch - it lulls her, against her will, and she sinks further into the pillows he’s stacked to support her head.

Valtor is enthralled by the softness of her hair. The red strands glide through his fingers like silk.

“Does this hurt?”

“No.” It even feels nice, though that will stay her secret.

Once he feels no more knots, he fills the mug with warm water and pours it gently over her hair.

“Valtor?”

“Mhm?” His response is soft - warmer than her own wordless murmur from earlier.

“Can you tell me more about Domino?” she blurts out, the words tumbling quickly, as if speed could dull her embarrassment. If he’s already washing her hair, what more damage could she possibly do?

His hand pauses mid-motion. Bloom feels her face redden at the sudden stillness.

“I remember visiting the Everburn Festival once,” he says finally, his voice distant.

“I read about that!” she exclaims. “It’s an annual fest to honor the Great Dragon!”

“And honor him they did.” He chuckles, working shampoo into her roots. “It was the largest festival in the realm. Royal families from across the Dimension came every year. The streets were lined with stalls - clothes, trinkets, food from every kingdom.”

He rinses the soap away, then massages conditioner into her ends.

“I spent the entire day wandering through the markets. The food alone was worth the trip. Flamefruit stew, dragonspice tea, volcanic fire rice - and the infamous crystal berry tart.” He smiles faintly. “Domino was known for its fruits and spices. The weather allowed plants to flourish like nowhere else. The Solarian sun is too harsh, Andros is too wet and salty, and Linphea prefers to grow healing herbs.”
Another round of shampoo finds its way to her scalp.

“I could’ve watched the ash painters for hours,” he continues, voice low. “Until everyone gathered at the palace for the King and Queen’s appearance.”

Bloom tilts her head slightly toward him, eyes bright with longing. He can see how she hangs on every word. But he doesn’t know how to continue the story.

“So, I left” he lies. How could he possibly tell her that the Queen revealed her pregnancy, announcing the second child to their family - a family said child never got to experience, partly because of him.

Bloom seems satisfied with his answer, already drifting into thought. She wonders how the food must have tasted - Domino was famous for its spice trade. Was that reflected in the dishes? Is that why she’s always had a fondness for spicy food?

Valtor rinses her hair for the last time and wraps it gently in a towel. He presses the fabric against the strands instead of rubbing, careful not to break the length. The products work well; her hair smells faintly of lavender now, it'ssoft and warm against his fingers.

Bloom’s head feels heavy, not just from the water but from exhaustion. All she’s done is sit still, yet it feels as though someone spent the last hour throwing her against a wall. Her eyes close on their own as Valtor dries the rest of her damp hair with a simple spell.

He’s been watching her battle against sleep for minutes now, amused by her stubbornness - always fighting, even against her own limits. He eases her into a lying position, his hand resting at the back of her neck a moment longer than necessary. Her warmth lingers on his skin; the faint pulse of their connection keeps him there.

He’s about to lose himself in this feeling when suddenly the flow changes. The usual dance of their magic was different instead of the mutual harmony her magic began pulling him in. Like holding his hand into a roaring river, the current threatened to sweep him up - drowning him if he's not careful.

He recoils as if burned, the air crackling where his hand had been.

What was that? Is she improving - or is her power slipping further from control?

He stands abruptly, the brief serenity of the room shattered. Without another glance at her sleeping form, he turns and leaves, the scent of lavender and smoke clinging to him as he goes.
He has to find an answer. Maybe something in yesterday’s reports - something he missed - can explain this. There has to be a reason.

Chapter Text

Valtor has lost all sense of time. The only things that matter are the words he can read and the pages that still need turning. He’s devoured every book within reach, the outlines of the words haunting him whenever he blinks. He needs to find a way to help Bloom - to understand what’s happening to her, and to keep her bound to him, where he can control her.

The Trix have been watching him for a while now, observing how he sits hunched over the desk like some relentless, page-turning machine. Their own research ended hours ago; unlike him, they can only stare at dusty tomes for so long.

“Should we say something? We should, right?” Darcy has been uneasy ever since Valtor fell into this state of studying. She’s been pacing the office, trying to calm her nerves.

“Or we let him study until he finds a solution.” Stormy looks after Darcy running nervous circles “I’ve never studied this much for anything, it feels unnatural” She stacks books up like a card house, resting the open pages against the backs of closed ones to try to keep the structure stable.

“This is absurd. Even for him.” Icy’s irritation is boiling over. He stormed into the office, mumbled a few words to them, and buried himself in his books, ignoring them ever since. If he thinks he can just replace us - and skip out on the power he promised - he’s dead wrong.

“Hey!” she snaps. No answer.

“Hey, I’m talking to you!”

She grabs a book from Stormy’s fragile structure and hurls it towards him. The rest of the stacked-up books crumble together into a paper mess. Stormy glares at her sister, she’s been working really hard on getting it that high.

The book-turned-projectile lands on Valtor’s desk, scattering parchment everywhere. In one throw, Icy has managed to destroy two perfectly organized systems at once.

He gathers a few scattered pages, voice calm.

“You’ve just undone three hours of work. I hope it was worth it.”

“That depends, are you gonna stop ignoring me now?”

His annoyed glance lands on Icy but she responds to his stare down with an angry expression.

“Ignoring you will be the kindest of my actions if you don’t stop bothering me.”

Icy shoots up from her chair and walks over to the desk, passing Darcy who froze in her movement when she threw the book.

“That is not how this is going to work” She slams both hands on the wood and stares at Valtor propped up on the table.

“We are not some stupid dogs you can command to sit whenever you feel like it. This is a partnership you make plans, but you are not in control! We work with you, not for you!”

He sighs “Is this what this is about? Hurt feelings?”

“This is about the deal we made” She scoffs “But instead of keeping up your end of the bargain you fell into an obsession with that dumb fairy.”

“This is not some senseless obsession.” His hands slamming in front of Icy’s, both leaning forward, their hands braced on the desk as they glare at each other. “This is the epitome of power, right at my fingertips - I just need to understand how to reach it.”

“And how is that going for you?” She crosses her arms “Because right now this all just seems like a huge waste of time.”

He doesn’t answer. His jaw visibly tightens.

Darcy breaks free from her state of shock “What she means is that we just need to know what’s going on” She steps next to Icy “I’m sure you know what you’re doing, but you need to let us in.”

“I am not reading another word for that fairy” Stormy adds.

“You’re misjudging me,” he says, voice smooth again. “What I’m doing will benefit us all. You want power? So do I. But power,” his eyes flick toward the books, “requires patience.”

“And if all this doesn’t work out?” Icy’s tone remains cold

His face drops and sternness replaces his smile. “You’d be wise to hope I succeed.”

“I do! WE do. We all want what’s best for you, for our plans” Darcy takes a seat on the Desk “Tell me how I can help you and I will do everything in my power to do so” She leans slightly in his direction.

“Whatever” Icy scoffs and exits the office, slamming the door shut behind her. She is definitely not in the mood to watch her sister throwing herself at Valtor.

“Your ass on the books is definitely not helping, that much I can tell you” Stormy throws a book in Darcy’s direction

“You’d be even wiser to stop throwing ancient knowledge across the room!” He never understood how people could treat Books with such carelessness.

A sudden rush of pain seizes him. He collapses back into his chair, hand clutching his chest. Exhaustion? Or something worse?

Darcy and Stormy keep bickering, oblivious to the shift in the air.

Bloom awakens in agony.

Pain blinds her; every blink is useless. The world is white, empty, burning. She tries to move - but her body won’t obey. Muscles locked, lungs straining, she’s trapped inside herself.

The ringing in her head drowns out every thought, a constant scream that isn’t hers. She tries to call for Valtor - tries to shape his name - but only a broken gurgle escapes. Even that sound hurts.

The thought of him cuts through the haze, shameful and desperate. She shouldn’t want him. She knows that. But the pain leaves her no choice. Every pulse of it reminds her how much she needs him - how much she depends on him. The realization is so loud, so violent, it feels like her skull might split in two.

Hot tears spill down her face, soaking into the pillow until it’s cold beneath her cheek. Each breath burns like glass in her lungs; each exhale tastes of ash. Her mouth is dry, bitter, useless.

Something pulses beneath her ribs, wrong and heavy.

Her skin feels aflame - like something inside her is tearing it apart, peeling her open from the inside out. Every nerve screams. She wants to thrash, to claw, to escape her own body - but she can’t move.
The heat turns to cold in an instant, a frost spreading under her skin until she can’t tell if she’s burning or freezing. Somewhere beneath her skin, light stirs - faint, golden, flickering like fire behind glass.

The helplessness. The silence. The knowledge that she’s alone in this room, in this pain - and that the only person who could save her is the one she shouldn’t be calling for.

Maybe Daphne should have been the one. Maybe this pain is the Flame’s way of correcting its mistake.

Icy walks through the halls of the cloud tower until she reaches the door to the room Bloom is in. She doesn’t know why she wanted to see her but she just had this feeling of needing to check for herself on Bloom’s situation. At least that’s what she’s choosing to tell herself. She reaches for the doorknob. As soon as she touches is she can feel a surge of magical power behind the door. She halts. The energy seems incredibly strong, she can feel it crackling through the air. It’s different to someone casting a powerful spell. This isn’t just magical ability; this is pure power surging through this room unfiltered and uncontrolled. She pushes the door open.

The air in the bedroom feels thick and heavy. She can see Bloom lying on the bed, she’s not moving but something seems wrong. Icy carefully steps into the room. The energy gets stronger the closer she gets to the fairy. She inches towards the bed until she can see Bloom. Her eyes are wide open, thrashing as if they are trying to escape their sockets. She looks absolutely insane her mouth wide open but without any clear sounds escaping, outside of a few pained gurgles. A glimpse of something shining catches her eye and she inspects Bloom closer. A fine golden line appeared on her neck, the source of the magical power. Icy stumbles back, she’s read about this. She catches herself and runs back to the office.

Ice cold wind slams the door open. Darcy and Stormy stop their argument and look towards the door, Valtor rests his book in an instant. Icy scrambles into the room. Out of breath she gasps
“Bloom”

Valtor is up on his feet, the pain in his chest ignored.

“A crack on her neck” she wheezes her words.

Valtor loses no time and starts sprinting. He has exited the office before Darcy and Stormy can realize what Icy has just said. He feels foolish. He felt the pain, he knows of his connection to Bloom. He should have known it’s related to her but in his delirious state he just couldn’t piece together what was going on.

He makes his way to the room. The magical power in the air takes his breath away, but he has no time for that. He reaches the bed and sees Bloom, the crack has spread and reaches her cheek, another one has appeared on her arm. A eerie golden light shines out with a slight flicker mimicking a fire dancing in a fireplace.

“No no no no no” he screames and grabs her hand “I thought I had more time!”

He can feel her magic trashing inside her. It doesn't respond to his. His magic reaches for hers as hard as he can, trying to claim it but nothing.

He sinks to his knees, her hand in both of his. The crack widens in front of his eyes. In a very long time nothing has managed to make him feel this helpless. He gathered all this power, and it is absolutely useless right now.

He closes his eyes, trying to concentrate on Bloom’s magic when he feels it. It’s faint but still there, the pull from last time. Valtor wastes no time and submits to the feeling, letting his magic surge into Bloom.

A sense of calm overcomes him. A feeling he has never felt before. Even stronger than before. His chest rises and falls rapidly, a thrill coursing through him as he pours his magic into her. A sigh escapes his lips as he lets full go, diving into the pull, letting it take as much as he has. He doesn’t notice how long has passed until dizziness hits him. He’s drained all his magical power into Bloom.

Valtor’s hands slip off the bed, and he collapses onto the mattress. He forces his eyes open. Bloom has fallen back into a deep slumber and the cracks have closed.

He lets out a soft laugh. He stays on the floor for a while just starring at the once again spotless image of Bloom, scanning if any cracks appear but nothing happens. She looks peaceful.

After a while, he can’t tell how long It’s been, he hears bickering from the hall. That can only be the annoying arguments of the Trix. Valtor picks himself off the ground. His legs are weak, and he must support himself on the bedside table as to not tumble again.

The Trix peak through the door frame.

“Is everything okay..?” Icy asks carefully.

“She’s alive.” Valtors voice is weak.

“What happened?” Darcy walks over to Valtor, offering support. For once he accepts her invitation and leans onto her. He’s too weak to walk alone.

“I had to give her some of my power.” Darcy stumbles at the door with him. Stormy supports him from the other side. They make their way back to the office and Valtor gives them a brief summary of what happened. He speaks as little as he has to, he’s too exhausted.

At the entrance to the office he for once turns to the left, letting him sink into the armchair and not behind the desk like he usually would. The window allows moonlight to shine into the room, casting huge shadows across the floor.

Valtor is about to drift off to sleep when the window behind the desk explodes inward with a deafening crack. Glass rains across the floor, glittering like falling stars in the moonlight. The Trix jolt awake with startled shrieks.

He forces his eyes open, the pounding in his head worsening. Through the haze of pain, he can make out glowing silhouettes against the night sky.

The Winx. And behind them - the Specialists.

“Where is Bloom?” Stella shouts, her voice cutting through the smoke and ringing against the walls. The shimmer of their transformations fills the office, the glow so bright it stings Valtor’s eyes.

The Trix exchange a glance. He’s in no shape to fight.

“You could have at least knocked,” Icy snaps, summoning a flurry of ice and hurling razor shards across the room.

“Sorry,” Stella retorts, deflecting the attack with a burst of golden light, “I didn’t know kidnappers cared about manners!”

The clash of sun and frost fills the air, the explosions lighting up the walls. Valtor presses a hand to his temple. Every flare of magic feels like knives through his skull. This really is the worst possible timing.

The Trix form a defensive line, standing between the intruders and their master.

“We don’t have time for this,” Stella barks. “Tecna - your turn!”

Tecna steps forward. In her hand a rugged looking gemstone. Valtor glances at it and breaks into a cold sweat. That is clearly a convergence crystal. He thought about stealing it from Solaria but hasn’t gotten around to it. It allows users to store magical power in it. It can be used in a fight to prepare huge attacks without having to use your power during that fight. You charge it with your power and recharge before the actual battle.

“You think an ugly stone will help you?” Darcy laughs at them.

“Be careful-“ Before Valtor can finish his sentence Tecna has already unleashed the stored power. The blast tears across the room like thunder. Icy reacts fast, forming a wall of ice, but the magic shatters through it like glass and slams into the Trix, throwing them hard against the wall.

They hit the ground in a heap, dazed but conscious.

“Your turn, Valtor!” Musa yells. “We have more where that came from!”

Valtor braces himself, trying to stand - but another shot from the crystal catches him square in the chest, hurling him backward into the wall beside the Trix. The impact knocks the air from his lungs.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Aisha challenges, stepping forward.

He wants to answer, to fight back - but he can feel it. His reserves are empty. Every trace of magic he had left is still burning in Bloom. He’s completely defenseless.

The crystal hums again, brighter this time, ready to fire.

Valtor closes his eyes and exhales.

The blast never hits.

A wall of dark red fire erupts between him and the Winx, swallowing the attack. The roar of the flames fills the room, and for a moment all anyone can see is light.

Then - a figure steps through it.

She floats above the ground, wings unfurled in a shimmer of black and crimson. The air around her bends with heat.

As the flames clear, the Winx freeze.

Bloom.

But not the Bloom they know. Her Enchantix armor has changed - now a two-piece of dark ruffled fabric, black threaded with embers. Her eyes still burn blue, but her pupils have narrowed to sharp, feline slits.

“Bloom…” Flora whispers.

“The crystal’s drained,” Tecna says quietly. “We can’t fire again.”

“We can’t fight her! That’s still Bloom!” Stella cries.

Sky takes a step forward, his voice breaking. “Bloom, please - don’t do this. Not again.”

She laughs, the sound low and cruel. “That might’ve worked once, lover boy - but this time, I’m stronger.”

She flicks her hand and a fireball explodes across the room. Sky doesn’t move. Brandon and Riven throw themselves in front of him, their weapons catching the blast. The force knocks all three back, smoke curling around them.

“Yeah… she’s really stronger,” Brandon groans.

Timmy’s voice cuts through the chaos. “We have to retreat!”

“I can’t just leave her!” Stella cries, tears streaking down her face, glowing in the firelight.

Aisha grips her shoulder. “We don’t have a choice.”

Bloom’s laughter follows them as she gathers another surge of flame. “Leaving so soon? I was just starting to have fun!”

She throws another blazing attack. The explosion shakes the walls, and smoke floods the room. The Winx and Specialists are thrown back by the shockwave.

When the smoke clears - they’re gone.

Bloom lowers her hand, the fire still dancing at her fingertips. She turns, her grin wicked, and locks eyes with Valtor.