Chapter Text
𝐖𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒
𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌. A shriek cuts through the silence like a blade — sharp, breathless, desperate. People go about their day as usual, children laugh and play with adults keeping their eyes on them. But in a Park located in Gardenia, shadows coil unnaturally.
In the grass field, a girl stumbles backward, her golden dress torn, the hem burned black. Her once-glamorous hair is tangled, a crown askew on her head. Estelle, Stella, princess of Solaria, heir of light and radiance — is bleeding.
Surrounding her are a green monster, an orge twice the size of a normal human adult, and his countless 'servants', red monsters from nightmares and half the size of the girl — conjured by dark sorcery. Their bodies are stitched from shadow, their eyes voids with teeth. And behind them —
— the orge smirks slyly. "Did the princess think she could hide the Sceptre of Solaria forever? My Mistresses will be beyond happy to have their Sceptre." Stella clutches her side. Her magic is faltering. She’s been on Earth too long — cut off, weakened. Her eyes search the trees, hopeless. Someone, anyone, please save me.
And then— A flicker of light. A ripple in the air. A breeze with the scent of flame.
And from the bushes, a girl charges forward with a stick in her hand, wild hair streaming behind her like untamed flames and fire in her eyes. "Get away from her!"
The orge blinked slowly, "A magicless human plans to be your savior?" Earth did not have any more magic and so the orge assumed that the blurred faced (caused by his terrible eyesight) girl too was magicless. "Leave and you won't be killed." He smiled cruelly.
The girl — Bloom — does not flinch. "Not without her." The orge laughs loud and mockingly, “A girl with a death wish.” then to his servants he yelled, "Ghouls, attack!". The red monsters ran towards Bloom. Stella screams, "No!" — but —
— the world explodes.
Golden light erupts from Bloom’s hands. Flames that sing of rage of warning of protection. That pulses with a heartbeat. It isn’t red — it’s white - gold edged in crimson, a spiral of pure elemental fury.
The ghouls shriek and disintegrate.
The ground cracks. Leaves burn.
The orge looks shocked, "How is that possible?!" Ooh, his Mistresses would not be pleased with him. "Ghouls, retreat!" He yelled towards his remaining servants. One of them ripped a piece of Bloom's jeans before leaving through the portal.
The world is still. Smoke coils around Bloom. She stares at her hands. How did I do that?
Stella, bleeding, reaches up.
"Who... are you?"
Bloom stares at her, blinking through the smoke. "I don’t know anymore."
Stella loses consciousness soon after.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
The lights are off. The moon watches through the window. Bloom lies in bed, blankets tangled around her. Her parents are downstairs — talking about the strange girl laying on their couch and what their daughter told them happend.
But Bloom can’t sleep.
Because in the back of her mind, a voice whispers.
"My little Dragonfly..."
She sits up, heart racing. The room is dark… but the mirror glows.
"You are flame born. The last. I kept you hidden… from them…"
The mirror swirls — and in it, a woman of gold and fire, her face half-veiled in light, eyes glowing like twin suns.
"The time has come. The shadow rises again. He watches. I… watch still... Bloom. You must remember. You must burn."
And then —
She vanishes.
Bloom wakes again. Drenched in sweat, her room smelling of smoke and a name on the tip of her tongue.
In the basket by her bed, her bunny Kiko sleeps soundly.
A dream. Although it was just a dream, it left her with so much longing, so much yearning.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
The light that filters through the curtains is gentle, tinged gold, the kind that promises a new day — but Stella feels like she’s been sleeping for years. Her eyelids flutter open, pupils adjusting to the soft sun as she tries to sit up, pain flaring in her ribs.
A concerned voice pipes up. "Wait—don’t move too fast. You were really hurt." Bloom. Sitting beside her, wearing a hoodie and jeans, hair tied back, Kiko laying on her lap.
"You saved me", Stella rasps.
"You were the one being chased by a monster. I’d say you needed saving more than me."
"No. I mean…" Stella’s golden eyes widen. "That power. You… you’re not just some Earth girl, are you?" Bloom hesitates, looking at her hands, still faintly warm. "I don’t know what I am. I’ve never… done anything like that before. But yesterday I — " she swallows " — I started a forest fire, destroyed half the park. Without even meaning to."
A pause. Then, Stella sits up straighter, regal despite the bandages.
"Okay. You deserve to know. About what I am. And what you might be."
She reaches into her ruined bag, wincing, and pulls out a small, golden, glowing ring — the Sceptre of Solaria, dirtied, but thankfully still whole.
"I’m Princess Estelle of Solaria. I’m a fairy."
"A fairy?" Bloom stares.
"And you? I don’t think you’re just a fairy." Her eyes sharpen. "You’re something rarer."
Bloom laughs nervously. "Fairy? Like Tinkerbell?"
Stella’s eyes flash. With a flick of her fingers, a radiant globe of light hovers above her palm. The air warms, golden beams dancing.
Bloom’s mouth opens slightly.
"You’re serious."
"I am serious. And so are the ones who sent that ogre and those ghouls after me. You saved me and they will be after you too. Whoever you are… it’s not just a coincidence that I crash landed on Earth of all planets when I was willing my sceptre to bring me somewhere save."
She looks at Bloom carefully.
A girl with hair like flames and eyes similar to someone's she saw in a painting placed in Magix's museum. She remembered the name of the painting that left her so amazed, The Fire That Walked Into Darkness.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
Downstairs, her parents are pacing.
Vanessa keeps repeating, "We just want her to be normal." Mike replies, "She’s not. And it’s time we accept it."
But upstairs, Bloom is already packing for tomorrow. Stella’s offered to take her to a place called Alfea — a school for fairies in the realm of Magix.
Bloom isn’t sure of anything anymore. Not her dreams. Not her hands. Not even her memories. But she knows one thing: The golden woman from the mirror said "you must burn."
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
The sun shines through gauzy curtains. The scent of pancakes wafts faintly from the kitchen below. But the moment is still delicate — held together by fragile breath and fading memory.
Stella groans softly as she stirs, her side still aching. The bedsheets smell of soap and earth. She blinks until the room sharpens.
She’s not alone.
Across the room, Bloom sits at a desk, chin in her hand, sketching flames in the margin of a notebook. Her other hand glows faintly with warmth — a fire that refuses to go out.
Stella clears her throat.
"So," she says with all the exhaustion of royalty far from court, "I didn’t hallucinate the monsters or your holy-blazing flames?"
Bloom looks up. She tries to smile, but it falters. "Nope. That was all real."
A beat. Bloom adds quietly, "And you’re really a fairy?"
Stella nods. "Again, I am Princess Estelle - call me Stella - of Solaria. Fairy of the Sun, Moon & Stars."
"And me?" Bloom asks, voice smaller. "What does that make me?"
Stella studies her. "Honestly? I don’t know. But you’re not just a fairy. Your flame — it’s primordial. Ancient. The kind of flame that's been gone for sixteen - almost seventeen - years."
Her words hang there. Then she leans forward and murmurs: "You’re like something out of the Prophecies."
Bloom’s skin chills.
"What prophecies?"
But Stella glances away.
"The kind no one talks about anymore. The kind kingdoms were razed over."
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
Mike and Vanessa sit across the dining table. They’ve tried to make this feel normal — pancakes, syrup, orange juice. But Bloom is glowing faintly, and Stella just magicked a hologram of Alfea.
"So... you’re saying she needs to go to this magic school?" Mike asks carefully.
"Alfea," Stella says, smoothing her hair with what little remains of her Solarian pride. "Best fairy academy in the Magical Dimension. Headmistress Faragonda owes me a favor."
Vanessa looks at Bloom, her eyes shimmering with worry and love.
"You’ve always been special," she says, brushing Bloom’s hair behind her ear. "But if this is who you are… go find out."
“Find out the truth.”
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
The world cracks open.
Stella draws her Sceptre — now glowing as it usually does — and slices the air. Gold threads ripple, weaving a gateway of sunfire and stardust. Beyond it, Bloom sees a forest, bright and mystical. Farther away she can see her new school.
"This is your first step," Stella says, smiling despite her bruises.
Bloom hesitates — then steps through.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
Alfea looks like a dream sculpted in light.
Towers curl skyward like flower buds, blooming into stained-glass domes. Floating walkways glimmer. Girls, fairies, drift overhead on wings of energy. Girls walking on the campus. The scent of wild lilac fills the air.
When Bloom steps inside, shockwaves ripple through the school. The fairies that'd been flying, fell on the ground — as do the girls on ground. Fire, the same white - gold flames flanks her protectively and only seeps back into her skin when the shockwaves stop. Beside her, Stella has her sceptre in hand to stay standing.
Bloom looks shocked.
"Well, you're the real deal alright." Stella says, jokingly.
A woman marches towards Bloom. The echo of her boots lands like a countdown. Her cloak flares behind her like a second shadow. With a curt flick of her hand, she dispels the lingering heat in the air and snaps her gaze toward Bloom, eyes narrow and calculating.
"Control," she barks, her voice like a whip.
"This is a school, not a battlefield."
She stops just short of them, looking Bloom over — not with fear, but with the appraisal of someone used to sizing up unstable explosives.
"You —" she gestures at Bloom with two fingers, "— will learn to contain that power. Or you will not remain here." Stella sighes exaggeratedly, rolling her eyes. Here comes trouble.
Griselda's pale eyes flick briefly to Stella. "And you. Did you not think to warn us you were escorting a walking conflagration?" Stella shrugs with a tight-lipped smile. "Kind of thought that was your job."
Griselda doesn’t blink. "The Headmistress will see you. Now. Before the wards fail again."
Then, quietly — almost too quietly — as Griselda turns: "…White - gold flame. Just like hers…"
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
The great doors of Alfea’s inner sanctum open with a shimmer of violet light. The room beyond is circular, domed in crystal glass that refracts daylight into shifting rainbows across the floor. At the center, surrounded by softly floating tomes and hovering globes of ancient magic, stands Headmistress Faragonda.
The doors close with a whisper of magic. Inside, the air is still — as though the very walls are holding their breath. The chamber is lined with floating shelves, scrolls that write themselves, and the soft hum of magical resonance.
Headmistress Faragonda waits at the center. Her robes are a cascade of muted violet, embroidered in sigils older than memory. Her eyes, though kind, miss nothing.
She steps forward as Stella and Bloom enter.
"Princess Stella. You’ve returned in one piece. A pleasant surprise."
Stella huffs, clearly used to the sarcasm. "Nice to see you too, Headmistress."
Faragonda’s gaze drifts to Bloom. She smiles — faintly, the kind one gives a puzzle they haven’t yet solved.
"And you must be… Bloom of Earth."
"Yes, ma’am."
"Hmm." Her fingers twitch slightly, as though tasting Bloom’s magic from across the space. "You’ve made quite the impression already." A beat.
"That surge upon your arrival — accidental, I presume?" Bloom nods, flushed. "I didn’t mean to — I’ve never even done magic before. I didn’t even know it was real until two days ago."
Faragonda hums again. Polite. Neutral.
"Magic has a way of waking… when it must. You are not the first young woman to discover it late. And certainly not the last."
She turns toward a floating sphere — crystalline, glowing faintly. "Your aura is… volatile. But not dangerous. Not yet."
She tilts her head, eyes narrowing for just a moment.
"Do you dream often, Miss Bloom?"
Bloom blinks. "What?"
"Dreams. They tend to… intensify around magical awakenings. Memories resurfacing. Imaginations running wild. It’s not uncommon."
Stella looks between them, sensing something hidden beneath the surface. Bloom only nods slowly.
"Sometimes," she says. "Yes."
"Good." Faragonda smiles again, that same mild, unreadable expression. "Keep a journal. It’s helpful. For grounding."
Another beat.
"You’ll be placed in Miss Stella’s dorm. Attend orientation this evening. And, Miss Bloom?"
Bloom looks up.
"Alfea is a place of learning — and of safety. So long as you stay curious… and careful… you’ll do just fine."
She gestures toward the exit.
"That will be all. Welcome to Alfea."
As they leave, Stella whispers, "What was that about?" Bloom shrugs. "I don’t know."
But behind them, Faragonda watches the doorway close — and her smile fades.
She murmurs to herself,
"So… she truly lives."
And then the candles flicker. The flame in the hearth glows just a little too brightly.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
The suite was airy and wide, walls painted soft lavender and enchanted with shimmering stardust runes. A pair of glass-paneled doors opened to a balcony blooming with vine-laced flowers. In the middle, a circular common room scattered with cushions and a table stacked with half-scribbled spellbooks.
Stella breezed in first, golden hair loose and glamour fully returned, like the battle with the ogre and ghouls never happened.
“Girls? Roomie drop incoming.”
The moment the words left her mouth, three girls emerged from the rooms.
First came Flora, warm and soft-eyed, with vines curled around her wrist like bracelets. "She’s here?" she asked gently, brushing soil from her skirt.
Behind her, Musa, dark-haired and guarded, her headphones resting around her neck, arms crossed. "So she’s the one who blew out the east tower? Impressive."
And then Tecna, tapping away on a glowing magenta tablet, paused only long enough to scan Bloom top to toe. "Magical frequency… still unstable. Signature unknown."
Bloom blinked.
"…Hi?"
The room fell into a beat of silence.
Stella threw herself onto a beanbag, arms dramatically sprawled. "Bloom, meet the girls. Flora of Lynphea, Musa of Harmony, Tecna of Zenith. Ladies, meet Bloom of Earth, savior of my blonde behind and resident walking solar flare."
Flora stepped forward first and offered her hand, gentle as sunrise. "Welcome to Alfea. You must be overwhelmed."
"I— yeah. Just a little."
"Don’t worry," Flora said kindly, "it’s like being replanted. Your roots will catch up."
Bloom gave a weak smile. "Thanks, I think."
Musa gave a subtle nod from the side, sizing her up. "You’re the one who knocked half the fairies out of the sky this morning."
"That… wasn’t on purpose."
"Yeah, I figured."
Tecna chimed in without looking up. "Your flame output during arrival spiked into dangerous territory. Same wavelength as pre-FoD resonance levels."
That had Stella, Musa and Flora looking at her in shock and turned to Bloom curiously. How could that be possible, the whole line of Domino was destroyed.
Bloom blinked. "Is that bad? Also what's FoD?"
Stella snorted. "No, darling. It’s terrifying. But also super cool."
Tecna finally looked up, tone analytical. "Fall of Domino. Your magic doesn’t match any known elemental strain. But it echoes something old. Possibly pre-planetary?"
While Bloom didn't understand a thing of what Tecna said, the name Domino sounded familiar. The flames in her sparked at its mention. Perhaps I could research more about it.
Musa raised an eyebrow. "You’re saying she’s not just new — she’s ancient?" "Her flame is ancient," Tecna corrected. "She’s clearly a teenager."
Bloom felt dizzy again.
"I’m just… me. I don’t remember anything before Earth. I don’t know where my powers came from. I don’t know why I can do this."
She held up her hand — and the faintest flicker of white - gold fire spun to life in her palm before dimming.
The flames left the room silent.
Not orange. Not red. Not normal.
Primordial. Like the sun rising before memory.
Flora whispered, "I’ve only ever read about flame like that… in prophecies."
Bloom looked around nervously. "Everyone keeps saying that. What prophecies?"
Stella cleared her throat, unusually serious now.
"The kind kingdoms buried. Because if they’re true… someone like you could either save us all or burn the realms to ash."
Silence again.
Then Musa broke it with a casual shrug.
"Guess we better keep you from burning stuff, huh?"
And just like that, the tension snapped. Bloom laughed, soft and uncertain, but grateful.
Stella grinned, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, that's one way to make an entrance. I'd say this deserves some snacks."
Musa snorted. "Only if someone disables the security field." Tecna blinked. "That would be a direct violation of Alfea protocol."
"Exactly," Stella said, smirking. "Which is why I’m not asking you." Tecna raised an eyebrow. "Good. Because I wouldn’t." Flora giggled. "We could always use the sun terrace stairs. The wards there reset every full moon."
Stella gasped dramatically. "Flora! Breaking the rules?"
Flora smiled sweetly. "You’re a bad influence."
Bloom hesitated. "Are you sure? I don’t want to get anyone in trouble. Especially not… on my first day."
Musa shrugged. "Technically, you already knocked half the school unconscious. Can’t top that." Bloom winced. "Right."
"But," Musa added, nudging her lightly, "everyone here’s a little weird. You’ll fit in fine."
Bloom let herself be pulled toward the door, heart pounding, the weight in her chest just a little lighter. For the first time since fire exploded from her soul, she didn’t feel so alone.
But also, they know something about her. The flames she possess belongs to this 'Domino'. That's why they were so shocked.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
The sky above Alfea burns in hues of lavender and rose, the sun bleeding behind distant hills like a fading memory. Lanterns suspended in mid-air shimmer to life one by one, trailing golden stardust across the courtyard. Girls gather beneath their glow — hundreds of them, eyes alight with expectation.
Bloom stands near the edge of the crowd, heart fluttering like a caged thing. She tugs at the hem of her blouse — she still doesn’t know if it’s okay to be nervous, or if everyone else is just pretending not to be. Stella stands beside her, radiant and calm, the Sceptre of Solaria now discreetly vanished into light.
"Don’t stare too hard," Stella murmurs, flicking her hair over one shoulder. "They’ll think you’re worried."
"I am worried," Bloom mutters.
"You’re doing great."
A soft bell rings. The lanterns all shift at once, forming an arc high above the platform. From one of the towers, Headmistress Faragonda descends slowly, robes trailing behind her like waterfall mist. Griselda walks at her side, eyes narrowed, clipboard in hand, already noting who isn’t standing straight enough.
Faragonda speaks, and her voice is woven with magic. It carries without force, gentle but commanding.
"Welcome, first-years of Alfea."
A hush falls. Even the wind seems to still.
"You have come from distant kingdoms, hidden valleys, ruined skies and golden thrones. You come with wings still folded. But within you is the seed of power. Of legacy. Of flame."
Bloom freezes. That last word coils through her like a thread of fire.
“Some of you carry magic that has slept for centuries. Others, a gift newly awakened. But all of you are here for one reason: Because the balance is shifting.”
A murmur ripples through the crowd.
Faragonda lifts one hand — and a symbol appears, glowing spiral, ancient, undefined.
"Once, a power shaped the stars. That same power now stirs again — and with it, shadows awaken." Her gaze lingered on Bloom before looking at the other students that had started whispering amongst themselves.
"For now," she says, "enjoy this moment. For your journey begins tomorrow." A second bell chimes.
The lanterns spiral upward, bursting into constellations. Music begins — soft, dreamlike. Tables appear laden with enchanted cakes, floating goblets, flower crowns that shimmer when touched.
All around her, fairies gasp and laugh.
But Bloom’s eyes don’t leave the air where the symbol had been.
It looked familiar.
Shaped like a flame, it made something in her remember.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
She lies awake.
Outside, the stars shimmer. In the bed opposite of hers, Flora slept quietly. But Bloom feels it again — that tug, like a candle flickering inside her chest.
And then, the mirror ripples.
“My little Dragonfly…”
The woman appears once more — her face pale flame and golden shadow. Her voice sounds closer than before. More human. More urgent.
“The school watches you. The world waits. But the ones who cursed me have not fallen. They know... You. Are. Alive.”
“Learn. Burn. Rise.”
The mirror fades. Bloom gasps.
She’s no longer dreaming.
And somewhere far away, across shadows and stars, in some frozen dimension, a warlock frozen in ice stirs.
