It was dark. 

Even enveloped by waves of glossy, deep purple that flowed lazily around her, she could still hear a faint, muffled ringing. Musa was suspended within the walls of waves, her mind completely entranced by the placid movements of the liquid. 

Then, as if he had just stepped out from the shadows, a blonde man was standing before her. 

The signature wide-brimmed, black hat adorned his head, however this man was very different to the one she had seen before: his face was relaxed and sported an innocent curiosity, much unlike the cold, stony-faced wizard she had been fighting. 

Although the biggest difference was in his intense eyes. The tired look of resignation had vanished- instead she saw a spark, a bolt of electricity course through them. They looked alive.

Musa opened her mouth to speak but found she had nothing to say, her mind still blank besides the muted high pitched ringing. 

Gantlos, however, took a step towards her, like her, suspended above the rolling purple waves, so he was stood directly in front of her.

"You feel it too."

 It wasn't a question. 

Musa hesitated, knowing exactly what he meant. But she couldn't trust him; he was her enemy and so she consequently kept her lips tightly shut and shook her head. 

His eyes darkened. 

"I see." He said, his voice barely above a whisper, his lips falling into a frown. "You can't lie to me, Musa." 

The water around them began to swirl faster, slowly becoming a murky black colour. 

"I am you. I know everything you know."

Musa's breath quickened as he stepped towards her but she was frozen in place. 

"And I know you feel it too." He finished, the light vanished from his eyes. 

"I know you feel it too, Musa!" Gantlos spoke in a singsong voice, his words elongated and producing multiple clashing tones that made her blood run cold. 

His eyes were now as black as the water that circled them. 

It foamed and crashed aggressively as if reaching towards her, beckoning her into their depths.

"Stop." She whispered to him breathlessly, her eyes pleading. 

The walls of water began to close in on them and Musa gasped for air, stretching her hands out as if she could stop them from reaching her. 

"You feel it, Musa!" He chanted over and over and she clasped her hands to her ears, trying to block out his demonic voice. 

"Musa! Musa! Musa!" He grinned at her wickedly. His teeth were razor sharp and pointed like fangs, dark red blood trickling through the gaps. 

Musa's stomach twisted, bile rising in her throat at the horrific sight before her.

"You can't lie to me! You can't hide from me!" his voice echoed around her and she screwed her eyes shut in terror, clamping her down harder. But his cursed voice still pierced into her mind. 

"Musa! Musa! Musa!" the voice grew louder and louder, the walls enclosed closer and closer around her.

"Musa! Musa! Musa!"

"NO!" Musa exclaimed and sat bolt upright, gasping for breath, her eyes wide open.

"Musa?" 

Flora was perched on the edge of the bed next to her, worry painted across her face. 

Musa took in her surroundings in attempt to calm herself. 

Pale yellow wallpaper. Sage green curtains. An old chest of drawers in one corner. A wooden chair in another. What was that pressure on her hands? 

She looked down at her lap to find Flora's hand closed comfortingly around hers, and her lips curled into a weak smile. Flora reached down to the bedside table and picked up a wet flannel from a bowl of cold water before ringing it out and pressing it against Musa's forehead. 

It felt good. 

"I'm glad you're finally awake." Flora said, breathing out a small sigh of relief.

"How-" Musa began but her throat was dry and scratchy and she could barely croak out the first word. 

Flora smiled sympathetically and passed her a glass of water which she gulped down gratefully. 

"How long have I been asleep?"

"It's been two days." She replied nervously, taking back the glass and placing it down on the table. 

Musa lay back wearily against the headboard of the bed and ran her hands through her hair in disbelief. Sunlight streamed in through the window above them onto the pale green bedsheets, illuminating the whole room.

"Where are we?" 

"Bloom's Earth parents' place. Mike and Vanessa's. They're kind enough to let us crash here for a bit until we can figure out what's going on."

"Right." Musa sighed. "Flora... what is going on?"

"I'm not sure," Flora began, mulling something over, "actually, I was hoping you could tell me. There was a huge explosion that forced those wizards to retreat. It shut down all of the electricity in Gardenia."

"What?" Musa gasped at the mention of electricity. 

She remembered the nightmare- Gantlos' black eyes as he taunted her. The feeling she experienced when they used their powers on each other. 

Riven. It was him she had seen before the explosion. 

She couldn't control her magic. 

She had caused the explosion that shut down Gardenia's power. 

But how?

"I think it was you." Flora broke her train of thought, "It would explain why you took so long to wake up." 

Musa nodded in sad agreement, wincing slightly at the stiff movement of her sore neck.

"How are you feeling?" Flora asked, picking up on the way her eyes creased in pain.

"I'm fine honestly. Just a bit sore." 

At that moment, Musa's stomach growled angrily and she smiled at Flora sheepishly. 

"Also I haven't eaten in two days." 

Flora giggled and got up, extending both arms invitingly. Musa noticed she favoured her left leg slightly but decided it was best not to question it, threw aside the bedsheets and took her hands.

"Let's get you some breakfast, 'kay?"

~

Two days ago, four wizards teleported back to their cave in the middle of a thick evergreen forest a few miles north of a city called Gardenia. The same cave from 100 years ago when their quest had only just begun. 

They had just lost. 

For the first time in their lives, they hadn't achieved their goal. They didn't capture the last Earth fairy or take her power. 

Anagan threw his dusty trench coat onto the armchair angrily; traces of rich green ivy remained around the sleeves.

"That stupid sun fairy!" Duman growled throwing himself onto the sofa and crossing his arms huffily. "She could have given me 3rd degree burns."

"What? You couldn't take her? Pathetic." Anagan said flopping down next to him, only half teasing.

"Easy for you to say, Anagan." Ogron retorted from the corner of the living room as he took off his dirty black leather jacket and hung it on a stone peg carved into the wall. He raised an eyebrow mockingly and Anagan scowled, turning scarlet. 

It was true, he had been bested by that fairy, Flora. She was much more powerful than he had expected- finding the strength to summon that ivy after being so brutally knocked down, it had impressed even him. 

Though not as much as her smooth talking- he certainly hadn't expected that from a sweet little fairy like her and got the impression she didn't really expect it from herself either. 

He almost smiled at this before catching himself and keeping a firm grip on his scowl while the other wizards were watching. 

Why would he smile at her anyway? 

The only person who hadn't yet spoken was Gantlos. 

He sat on a stool by the stone counter that separated the living room from the kitchen, his back to his fellow wizards, palms together pressed into his face, thumbs supporting his chin and index fingers stopping just below his nose. 

He had just received the brunt of a shockwave powerful enough to shut down Gardenia's whole grid, yet ironically all he could think about was the fairy who had emitted the blast. Musa, did her friend say her name was?

Gantlos was often a mysterious and contemplative person at the best of times- brooding and preoccupied at worst- so the other wizards didn't bother to ask him how he was. He probably wouldn't have answered. 

What absorbed his thoughts the most was the fact that he could tell Musa had read him in those few minutes, better than any of his brothers had in their lifetime, watching how she had studied his expression so carefully during their fight. 

But after over 100 years of practice, he knew he hadn't let much slip. 

Maybe that was what put Gantlos ahead of Duman or Anagan in combat. While their skill level was more or less the same, what gave him the edge over the others was his stoic, unreadable expression- it made him unpredictable.

His mind wandered to their first meeting, they had barely spoken a word to each other let alone reciting some magic-bonding incantation. So the question remained- what was this electric rush he felt when they used their magic together? 

And when they used more powerful attacks, it hadn't felt like just an exhilarating crackle of electricity; it had felt like a lightning storm. 

He hated to admit it, but he loved the feeling. Even craved the feeling. 

"So what? You're not going to hit me?" she had said. Her tone was feisty, yet he noticed the desperation that trickled through it. 

She clearly felt the same way.

What stumped Gantlos was the explosion. 

What had triggered it? 

He'd used some magic to deflect the brunt of the blast, so how come he didn't experience the rush? 

The first question, he still couldn't answer but the second, his theory was the attack wasn't her magic- actually it wasn't an attack at all. He'd observed the magic aura around her palms was typically a red-purple. But the explosion was blue-black. 

Furthermore, she used soundwaves but this was something else, something still inexplicable to him. She'd somehow stored a different source of magic within her and when she lost control, it just slipped out. 

This hypothesis, however, required the assumption that it was their magic connecting that caused the electricity to begin with. 

Although he was fairly certain this was the case, he still couldn't rule out other possibilities just yet.

Things were just starting to unravel in his mind, all becoming clearer when his train of thought was interrupted by Ogron clearing his throat and calling a meeting. 

He got up slowly, slightly stiff and still covered in dust and sand and made his way to the armchair in the middle of the living room, throwing Anagan's coat carelessly onto the floor and sitting down.

"We need to talk." Ogron began, before biting his tongue. 

Right, that was an understatement, he thought to himself. 

The others just sat and waited, no real eagerness to talk about their defeat, so Ogron continued. 

"The fact is we let the last Earth fairy get away."

"Well we wouldn't have if you had just given us the command to teleport her back here instead of telling us to fight those annoying pixies." Duman called out, his hot headedness showing. 

Ogron sighed. He couldn't be angry. Duman was right- all of this could have been avoided if his ego hadn't gotten in the way. 

"Yes... I misjudged the situation greatly." Ogron admitted, "But now we have more of a grasp of what these fairies can do. And next time, we will crush them."

"Here here!" Anagan cheered sarcastically, throwing a 'triumphant' fist upwards. 

Ogron frowned.

"Everyone should get some sleep. We will discuss strategy in the morning." He stated, standing up and walking out without saying another word.

"Well, I need to go tend to my wound." Duman sniffed, inspecting his burnt hand again.

"Please, the damage to your hand is nothing compared to what that fairy did to your ego." Anagan barely managed a smirk before receiving an elbow to the ribs. "Ow, you dickhead." 

Duman chuckled to himself before getting up.

"Goodnight, loverboy." Duman teased. 

Anagan shot him an incredulous look. 

"Oh yeah I saw that little smile of yours." Duman pouted at him mockingly before turning to Gantlos. 

"Batman." He nodded to him, wishing him goodnight and Gantlos scoffed. 

Duman left, knowing he wouldn't get anymore response out of his mute friend.

"Are you alright?" Anagan turned around in his seat to look at Gantlos, after Duman had walked out. "You were hit pretty hard, you know." 

Gantlos looked up and smiled wearily. He really did appreciate moments like these. Usually the other wizards would just leave him alone.

"Yes, thanks Anagan." He replied, his voice thick and gravelly.

"You sound exhausted." Anagan said bluntly before standing up and picking his trench coat off the floor. "You should get some sleep." He offered, slightly more sympathetically before walking out the living room himself and along the corridor to the last door on the right, next to Duman's room. 

Gantlos' smile faded- he was exhausted. 

He waited a moment, reminiscing once more on that electric feeling he began to miss, his thoughts still tightly wound like a ball of string in his mind. 

Although he had a lot to think about still, he felt fatigue tugging on his mind and eventually gave way to sleep. 

~

Ogron sat at his desk, his head buried in his hands. 

Despite his understanding of the importance of rest, he rarely took his own advice, instead preferring to work until he physically collapsed.

His room was what could only be describe as chaos. 

Important papers covered the floor; some had been hastily stacked into a pile and others just strewn anywhere. Amongst them were blueprints to major structures in Gardenia, a couple of marriage licences and even peoples' birth certificates. Ogron could pretty much become whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted- quite the useful asset. 

Random magical artefacts littered the shelves: jewellery, books, strange looking objects, the whole lot. Not even Anagan nor Duman knew what some of them could do. 

To the untrained eye, his room was, simply put, a mess. But to Ogron, he could find any document within seconds- everything had its place and everything was in its place. 

Always. 

This was also the reason he never allowed anyone entry. No exceptions. Not even Gantlos- who wouldn't dream of moving anything.

Typically Ogron could always find a way to be productive when shut in his room, but tonight he struggled to concentrate on the plans in front of him.

That fairy from earlier. 

What was her name? Bloom? 

The fire he had seen in her eyes as she challenged him. The fire he had felt in his veins when he absorbed her magic. It was powerful shit. 

Finally a challenge. 

The corner of his mouth turned up into the faintest hint of a smile.

Equally, she didn't back down like most did when they faced him. 

Over the years, his reputation preceded him; Earth fairies would shake at the mention of his name and flee as fast as their weak, little wings would carry them. All in vain, of course. 

But this girl... her courage was admirable, considering she was clearly outmatched. 

Ogron mulled this over, slowly nodding as if to show his respect for her. With the magic and willpower that fairy possessed, he could almost acknowledge her as an equal. 

Almost.

He cleared his throat, his eyes drawn back to the papers before him. Enough procrastinating. He read over the plans several times and not once did any of the information enter his brain. Frustrated with his lack of productivity, he swiped the papers, bringing them over to his bed. 

Ogron lay back, holding the documents above his head- as if a new angle would help his mind process them. His pillow felt so inviting under his head and even his arms began to ache, locked rigidly above him. 

Slowly, he felt his eyes begin to drift shut, his arms folding on his chest, crinkling the papers still tightly grasped in his hands.

His mind wandered back to Bloom; the way her eyes lit up in defiance, the way her body heaved with each laboured breath after she bore the brunt of his attacks, the way that the curve of her waist looked so soft that he just wanted to-

Ogron gasped, his eyes shooting open. 

His fists clenched tightly around the documents and within a split second, they were nothing more than ashes, trickling out of his grip like sand. 

Shit. He needed those. 

He sighed, pushing himself upright. He grabbed the glass on his bedside table and took a large swig of water, gulping loudly as he swallowed each sip. He closed his eyes, running a hand through his hair as he finished his drink.

After replacing the glass on the table, Ogron hastily brushed the burnt remnants of the documents off his bed and inhaled deeply. 

No matter how tempting his wandering thoughts were, he had to focus. She was just a thorn in his side that needed to be removed. There was a bigger picture in which she didn't feature. 

She was nothing.