When the girls stepped out of the cozy bookish café, they passed through an inconspicuous brick wall draped in cascading vines. The moment they emerged, Maggie's vision adjusted to the dazzling vibrancy of MagiX—an intricate blend of magic and technology.
However, Maggie barely had time to take it in before a sharp tug at her jacket yanked her backward.
"Watch it!" Ashya hissed just as a sleek red, floating car zoomed past, honking furiously. The vehicle's shimmering hull reflected the bright cityscape, leaving a trail of sparkling exhaust in its wake.
Ashya, undeterred, raised her fist in protest, ready to curse at the driver, but Maggie swiftly grabbed both her and Sirene, pulling them deeper into the city before she could start a scene.
- ✧ ❖ ✧ -
By the time they'd made it halfway down the block, Maggie's near-death experience had vanished from their minds like smoke. She walked alongside Ashya and Sirene, practically buzzing with excitement as her eyes eagerly darted from one shop window to the next, the trio quickly turning it into a competition to find the most outrageous outfit.
Every few steps, they would pause, gasp dramatically, and point at the most ridiculous ensembles displayed in the windows—dresses covered in tacky feathers, jackets studded with blinking gemstones, or neon corsets so over-the-top they looked like they'd short-circuit if one sneezed.
At one particularly garish display, Maggie came to a dead stop and jabbed a finger at a mannequin wrapped in a dress that resembled the aftermath of a disco ball explosion—sequins, fringe, and far too much glitter for any reasonable person.
"You should totally wear this one, Ashya," she said, grinning wickedly over her shoulder.
Ashya rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a small smile. "Yeah, yeah, it's pretty... flashy." She adjusted her jacket, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face, then eyed the nearest sign suspiciously. "But don't get too comfortable. Some of these stores are way more trouble than they're worth."
Just as Ashya finished speaking, the street seemed to respond to her words. One of the animated advertisements nearby suddenly jolted to life. The colorful billboard, sponsored by The Flying Hover Cyclists, flickered as the vibrant imagery of a sleek, futuristic hoverbike flashed across the screen. The ad's smooth, chrome lettering shone like it was alive, and in an instant, the energetic voice of a charismatic announcer boomed from the sign.
"HEY, YOU! YES, YOU!" the ad bellowed, making the girls jump. "PROTECT YOURSELF WITH THE NEWEST GEAR FROM THE FLYING HOVER CYCLISTS! SUITS, HELMETS, AND HIGH-SPEED HOVER BIKES THAT'LL HAVE YOU RIDING THE WINDS IN STYLE!"
Ashya's eyes widened, and before she could react, the ad seemed to lock its attention on her. "I DIDN'T ASK FOR THIS!" she shrieked, leaping backward as if she'd been physically struck. "IT'S POSSESSED!"
Maggie immediately burst out laughing, clutching her stomach as she leaned on a nearby lamppost. "Oh, Ashya, you dummy!" she said, her voice full of amusement. "It's not possessed, it's just an enchanted ad, calm down!"
Ashya's eyes darted from the glowing billboard to her friends, her panic only escalating. "It's following me! I'm not buying any hover bikes!" she said, her hands instinctively raising in defense. She backed away further, practically stumbling on the cobblestones.
Maggie wiped a tear from her eye, still grinning from ear to ear. "Oh, my stars, you really are scared of a sign!" she teased, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "It's just trying to sell you some wind-riding gear. Chill out, Ashya. It's not gonna eat you."
Ashya didn't seem reassured. She pointed an accusing finger at the sign. "But look at it! It's so... persistent! It's like it's glaring at me!"
The sign flashed again, showing animated hover bikes zooming across an open sky with the Flying Hover Cyclists' logo proudly displayed. The voice boomed once more, louder and more enthusiastic than before. "YOU'RE GOING TO WANT THE BEST IN WIND RIDING GEAR! ONLY THE FLYING HOVER CYCLISTS HAVE THE LATEST HELMETS AND SUITS—GUARANTEED TO KEEP YOU SAFE, WHETHER YOU'RE RIDING FOR SPORT OR FOR FUN!"
Ashya groaned, pulling her jacket tighter around her. "I'm not interested!" she snapped, though the ad seemed oblivious to her disinterest.
Maggie's grin grew even wider. "Guess the Flying Hover Cyclists really know how to chase you down," she teased. "Maybe if you're nice they'll offer you a special discount, huh?"
Ashya glared at her but couldn't help a small chuckle. "I swear, if this ad follows me to Alfea, I'll turn it into firewood," she muttered, though it was clear she was seriously considering the prospect.
Maggie, still grinning, tugged on Ashya's sleeve. "Come on, let's go before it offers you a special discount," she joked.
As Maggie turned to pull Ashya away, the sign jolted to life once again, its animated cyclist mascot booming even louder than before, clearly offended by their lack of interest.
"DON'T MISS OUT, MISSY!" it shouted, now more insistent than ever. "EVERYONE RIDES THE WINDS—YOU CAN'T AFFORD TO RIDE WITHOUT THE RIGHT GEAR! WIND RIDER SUITS, HELMETS, AND HIGH-TECH HOVER BIKES—IT'S ALL YOU NEED TO RULE THE SKY!"
Ashya's eyes widened as the sign's voice grew more grating, almost as if it were personally offended by their disinterest. "Oh, my stars, I am not buying your gear!" she yelled, now exasperated and horrified. "I don't need your stupid helmets, you overgrown cartoon!"
The mascot's voice shifted, taking on a whiny, pleading tone. "YOU'LL BE BACK!" it called, its booming voice more desperate now. "YOU ALWAYS COME BACK WHEN YOU REALIZE WHAT YOU'RE MISSING!"
Sirene, who had been quietly observing the entire exchange, finally spoke, her voice smooth and calm, almost as if she hadn't just witnessed a chaotic spectacle. "Maybe if you actually bought something, it would stop haunting you," she teased, raising an eyebrow with an amused glint in her eye.
Ashya rolled her eyes and crossed her arms in a huff. "And maybe if I bought a hover bike, it'd throw in a free vacation from you while it's at it," she muttered sarcastically, giving the sign one last glare.
Maggie burst into laughter again, snorting this time. "Alright, alright. No more hover bikes, we get it," she said, trying to catch her breath.
With one last look at the animated ad—still flashing its neon lights and showing off its enthusiastic mascot—the girls turned away, continuing their walk through Magix. Ashya kept muttering under her breath about the ridiculousness of enchanted advertisements, shaking her head. "It's not over, though," she warned with a sly grin. "If it shows up at our dorm, I'm really using it for target practice."
Further down the street, the trio came across a floating ice cream stand, where enchanted cones wobbled in midair, spinning like playful sprites taunting the customers below. Maggie and Ashya immediately dove into the chase, their hands swiping at the cones, but they danced just out of reach, teasing them with every movement. The unseen vendor, apparently enjoying the spectacle, only encouraged the chase, as if to say, "Catch me if you can!"
Maggie let out a dramatic sigh as she lunged once more, her arm nearly outstretched as the cone twirled just out of reach. "This is ridiculous," she huffed, half laughing, half frustrated. "It's like they're taunting us!"
Ashya, equally determined, sprang forward with a burst of energy, but her cone darted away with a little more speed, nearly slipping out of sight. "Honestly, this must be what it feels like to chase a ghost," she muttered, wiping the sweat off her brow. "Always there, just out of reach, never letting you catch a break."
Sirene, who had been watching the spectacle with mild amusement, gave a small, almost imperceptible smirk. Without so much as breaking a sweat, she flicked her wrist, sending a quick blast of magic that froze Maggie's cone mid-dodge. The cone hovered there, suspended in time, before she effortlessly plucked it from the air.
"You two are exhausting," Sirene muttered dryly, taking a delicate, graceful bite of the now-captured ice cream as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "And to think—people say eating dessert for breakfast is indulgent."
Ashya raised an eyebrow as she watched Sirene savor her ice cream. "At least you know how to get it," she teased, a grin tugging at her lips. "Next time, if we're having ice cream for breakfast—no chases. And who says we can't do whatever we want on Magix?"
After a good amount of reluctant begging from Ashya, Sirene finally relented and, with a nonchalant flick of her wrist, captured both of Maggie's and Ashya's hovering cones effortlessly. She plucked them from the air like she was performing some kind of casual magic trick, her movements fluid and graceful, entirely unbothered by their previous chaotic pursuit.
The two girls, now able to savor their sweet treat without further hassle, shot Sirene grateful, yet resigned glances as they finished the last of their ice cream. Despite the earlier frustration, they couldn't help but chuckle a little, feeling a small sense of victory—though they wouldn't admit it out loud.
For a brief moment, everything seemed peaceful. They resumed walking down the lively street of Magix, content to simply enjoy the sights and sounds of the bustling market, the aromas of street food wafting in the air, and the distant hum of enchantments that seemed to fill the atmosphere. They joked and laughed, letting the morning leisurely unfold to noon.
But their peaceful stroll was abruptly interrupted when a hooded figure suddenly stepped into their path, blocking their way. The movement was so sudden and deliberate that the trio instinctively stopped, taken aback by the man's presence. There was something about him—his posture, his silence—that commanded attention in a way that couldn't be ignored. It was as if the very air around him thickened with an intensity that drew the eyes and held them captive.
The hooded stranger's piercing gaze locked with each of theirs in turn, sending a shiver of unease through them all. It wasn't so much the man's appearance—parts of his face was hidden in a shadow beneath the hood—but the weight of his presence, a feeling like they were being scrutinized by something far more unsettling than they could comprehend. Maggie felt her heartbeat quicken, a faint prickle of tension crawling down her spine.
Without saying a word, the stranger extended a hand, offering each of them a simple flyer.The paper was plain, yet the weight of his gesture made it feel heavier. His voice was deep and reverent, as though he were speaking a sacred truth that only he could perceive.
"Magic is dying," he spoke, his eyes burning with fervent zeal. "Corruption spreads because our traditions are being lost. Magic is being diluted—mixed with technology, with outsiders, with unnatural forces. The Abyssal Veil grows, and if we do not act, it will consume all."
His gaze pierced through them, unwavering and intense, as though he could see into their very souls. He spoke with such urgency, such certainty, that Maggie felt an uncomfortable chill creep down her spine.
"The Abyss seeks to erase everything—our magic, our history, our very souls. It has already begun. Worlds are withering, magic is dying, and those who remain are mere husks. This corruption spreads like a plague, faster than you realize. We must act, or the Abyss will devour us all."
"The Order of the Fading Flame is the last hope," the stranger continued, his voice rising with fervor. "We are the final guardians of the ancient magic—the true keepers of the Dragon Flame. Only the Flame can restore balance, cleanse the corruption, and save us from the Abyss. All other magic has been tainted—mixed with foreign blood, diluted by outsiders, and twisted by unnatural forces. The Dragon Flame is the only power left that can protect us, restore the true magic."
The stranger's eyes gleamed, his voice growing darker with each word. "Look at what's happening to our worlds. Planets that once thrived with magic and life have become withered husks. Magic drained, the people left to rot. And still, the Abyss grows. It sends its creatures—the Abyssal Shades—to hunt down magic users, to destroy the very sources of our power. These creatures devour magic, consume everything they touch."
Maggie's stomach churned at the mention of the Shades. She had heard the rumors—the chilling stories of shadowy beings that emerged from the Abyss, corrupting all that lived, tearing apart their power, and leaving nothing but devastation in their wake. The Shades were often the first sign that a planet was dying, a stark warning that magic was fading faster, and the Abyss was slowly claiming yet another world.
The stranger's voice turned sharp, insistent. "These Shades are harbingers, agents of the Abyss. They devour life. They destroy all magic. And if we do not stop them, the Abyss will spread, consuming everything. Only the Dragon Flame can push back the Veil, cleanse the corruption, and protect us. It is the last remaining magic capable of saving us."
His tone shifted to one of cold finality. "We are the Chosen. The last line of defense. Only by embracing the Dragon Flame, purging the corruption, can we stop the Abyss from consuming all. Join us. Become one of the Chosen. We will restore the balance, and with it, the true magic of the realms."
The stranger's words hung in the air like a suffocating weight. Maggie felt her unease grow, her mind racing.
Unable to bear the oppressive weight of his words any longer, Maggie cleared her throat. She exchanged a quick glance with Ashya and Sirene, both of them looking equally unsettled. Ashya's brow furrowed in skepticism, while Sirene remained quiet, deep in thought. Maggie could feel the tension between them.
"Well, um... thank you for the... enlightenment," Maggie said awkwardly, her voice strained as she tried to mask her discomfort. "But, uh... I think we need to go. We've got things to... figure out."
Without waiting for a response, they turned and hurried off, their steps quick, the tension in the air palpable. Maggie's heart still raced as they walked away, her thoughts churning. She didn't know what to make of all of this—the stranger, the Order of the Fading Flame, the Dragon Flame—and most of all, the way he spoke of purging everything that wasn't "pure."
One thing was certain—whatever their cause, she didn't agree with their methods. And she wasn't about to let herself get caught up in their fanatical crusade.
Fortunately, she wasn't alone in her resistance. Bloom, the current Guardian of the Dragon Flame along with the rest of the Winx, remained steadfast against the Order's radical agenda.
Meanwhile the Light Council seemed more transient in their stance. While they did not openly support the Order, neither did they outright condemn it. Their reluctance to take a firm position left many wondering where their true loyalties lay. Some saw it as a strategic hesitation, while others began to question if their neutrality was a sign of weakness or complicity.
Similarly, the Council of Sovereigns, a coalition of planetary leaders, were as equally divided. Some found the Order's promises of purity tempting, while others stood in hesitant opposition, unsure where to place their trust.
On the other hand, The Company of Light, seasoned heroes of the Magic Dimension, remained resolute in their defiance of the Order. Yet, even they felt the weight of growing uncertainty. The stakes were higher than ever, and the once-clear lines between resistance and conformity were becoming dangerously blurred.
Maggie could feel the tension mounting in the air around them as they ducked into the nearby alley, seeking refuge from the weight of the stranger's words. The streets of the city seemed to pulse with an unsettling energy, but here, hidden in the shadow of a nearby tea shop, there was a brief moment of calm.
Still, she couldn't escape the tight knot of unease twisting in her stomach. Sirene, normally so composed, was visibly shaken. Her usual serene expression had been replaced with a look of quiet torment. It was clear she was struggling to process everything—the encounter with the stranger, the Order's radical beliefs, and the painful reminder of how the world saw her.
Maggie had always known Sirene's past wasn't easy, but today must have hit harder than most.
She had fled her home planet, Idrilla, not because she wanted to, but because her bloodline had condemned her. Sirene was half fairy, half mermaid— a rather common blend of two magical worlds. To some, especially the Order, she wasn't worthy enough to attend Alfea—the prestigious fairy school. Her mixed bloodline was seen as a blemish, a stain on what they considered "pure" magic. Even though she was one of the most talented fairies Maggie knew, some believed she didn't deserve the honor of attending the school, let alone being allowed to study magic at its highest levels. It wasn't that Sirene wasn't capable—it was that parts of the Magical Dimension had decided she wasn't worthy because of who she was born to be.
Before Maggie could comfort her friend, Ashya's frustration boiled over, her temper flaring as the weight of the moment intensified. She wasn't one to shy away from a challenge, and right now, the ridiculous claims of that man and the Order were more than enough to push her to her limit.
Her eyes narrowed as she cracked her knuckles, the raw energy around her palpable. "The audacity of them," Ashya hissed, her voice dripping with contempt as she turned to Maggie and Sirene. "How dare they say magic is dying because of people like You?"
Her fists clenched tightly, her posture rigid with a fury that demanded action. Without a second thought, Ashya grabbed the paper from Sirene's hand, her movement swift. She crumpled it, the snap of the paper almost satisfying in its harshness.
"This is absurd!" she snarled, tossing the paper into the air. With a flick of her fingers, flames erupted from her hand, curling around the manifesto, consuming it with a quick, scorching heat. "Magic isn't dying because of you or anyone else like you! It's because of them—the ones who think they can control it, distort it into something it was never meant to be!"
The flames flared brightly, casting a brief but fierce glow over Ashya's face, her expression fierce and unyielding. The paper crumbled into ash before it even touched the ground, but Ashya's energy only seemed to grow stronger.
Maggie watched in silence, her mind stirring with strong unspoken agreement. She understood Ashya's resolve, even shared in it, but the harsh weight of reality still pressed against her thoughts—magic was dying. Of course it wasn't because Sirene but less and less beings in the magical dimension still held power, and even those born with talent found it dwindling, like a flame struggling against the wind.
Ouch. The thought stung, hitting closer to home than she wanted to admit.
Before she could voice any reassurance to Sirene, a sudden jolt pulsed through her, freezing her breath in her chest. It wasn't just a feeling—it was a shift, a rupture in the fabric of reality that sent a deep, bone-cold tremor through her very core. The air around her seemed to thicken, growing dense and heavy, as though the weight of an unseen force was pressing against her ribs.
Time seemed to stand still.
The flickering flames in Ashya's hand slowed to an unnatural crawl. The crackling embers froze midair, their fiery glow suspended like dying stars in the night. Sirene's breath, half-drawn, hung between them, unmoving. Even the distant murmur of the marketplace beyond the shop seemed to stretch and distort, as if reality itself had been caught in an unseen web. Then, the window.
Not by choice—something pulled at her gaze, an unseen thread weaving through the space between her and the glass. It wasn't sight, not exactly. It was more like she felt the glass—knew it in a way she couldn't explain. The way the energy around it trembled, flickering and twisting like a reflection in disturbed water.
Magic wasn't just there—it was moving.
She didn't know how she knew, only that she did. Energy pulsed through the glass in invisible currents, shifting, fraying. It wasn't the steady rhythm of magic she'd observed earlier—the warmth that pulsed through Magix, through the city's very foundation balanced through its blend of magic and technology. This was erratic, disjointed, like a melody forced into 2x speed, the notes tripping over themselves, unbalanced.
The glass rippled.
Distorting reflections stretched unnaturally, bending hers, Ashya and Sirene's faces into fragmented shapes. The light twisted, pulling and stretching at odd angles. But beyond the warped images, Maggie could sense something deeper.
And then—
Shattering.
The window burst into a thousand pieces, the sound sharp as a lightning strike. But the shards didn't fall.
They hung in midair, frozen.
Each fragment gleamed with an eerie light, refracting magic in fractured beams, caught in a web of energy Maggie felt like she was supposed to read. The pattern of the cracks, the way the pieces hovered—there was something deliberate about it, something she recognized on instinct. As if the strands of magic that held the glass together had unraveled before the shattering ever happened.
Like she had seen it before it happened.
Her mind raced, trying to grasp the meaning, to trace the invisible threads still lingering in the air. But the moment shattered just as suddenly as the glass had.
"Maggie?"
Sirene's voice wavered, thin but sharp enough to pull her back.
Maggie blinked. The world snapped back into focus. The vision—if that's what it had been—was gone. The window was intact once more, reflecting only the puzzled faces of Ashya and Sirene staring at her.
Had it been real? Or just another dream?
Her head hurt. The weight of the moment pressing on her chest, but there was no time to dwell on it.
Because something was coming.
A sudden flurry of movement—a group of disguised girls burst from the shop, their identities hidden beneath hoods, hats, and masks, yet their presence was unmistakable. Even veiled, the aura of magic that clung to them was undeniable—there was no mistaking the power and malice that marked them as witches, and by their age, likely students of Cloud Tower.
Watch out!" The words burst from her mouth before she could even fully comprehend what was happening. Her instincts took over—there was no time to think, only to act.
She leapt forward, placing herself in front of Ashya and Sirene's shocked faces just as the glass shattered, sharp shards slicing through the air. A sudden pain tore through one of her arms, but she didn't pay it any mind. Her attention was fixed on the magic—dark and swirling, like ink bleeding into water, trailing after the witches as they fled.
A flurry of movement—a young woman, a cloud nymph, darted from the tea shop, her soft peach hanfu flowing behind her, embroidered with delicate gold swirls of clouds. A teal sash cinched around her waist, and her silky hair bouncing wildly as she hurried forward, nearly slipping on the shattered glass.
"Please, someone—" Her voice trembled with panic, not noticing the trio at first. "They stole from our shop—I don't know what or why—"
Only then did she realize she had witnesses. Turning toward them, her doe-like eyes filled with tears. "Please—help! They're witches! They took something precious—we've been brewing these special blends for months, and now—" Her voice broke, desperate. "I don't know what they want, but it can't be good."
Ashya's breath hitched, hesitating as her eyes darted to Maggie's arm. "Maggie—your arm!" she said, her voice laced with concern. "You're bleeding!"
Maggie, still focused on the witches, waved it off with a shrug, barely registering the sting. "It's nothing. We need to help catch them."
She didn't have time to dwell on the small injury. The witches were headed for the city center, blending into the crowds. But Maggie and her friends wouldn't let them disappear without a fight.