The square was chaos—shattered stone, acrid smoke, and the rumble of the Nue's growls filling the air. The sun blazed fiercely overhead, casting everything in harsh, unforgiving light. Shadows were sharp-edged and thin, swallowed by the sheer brightness of day. The square should have felt safe at this hour, warm and familiar.
But now, the sunlight only made the destruction more vivid. It glinted off shards of glass embedded in the cobblestones, shimmered on twisted metal, and threw reflections from scattered shop signs that had been blown off their hinges.
Maggie gracefully landed on the ground despite the fractured cobblestones.
Her fingers twitched at her sides, itching to move, to act, to matter. Her body knew what to do—run, cast, react—but her mind was still lagging behind. She'd trained for this. She was supposed to attend Alfea after all for this. She'd dreamed of being the kind of fairy who rushed into danger with glowing wings and radiant, decisive spells—just like the Winx.
But now, in the smoke and the screams, all she could feel was the sting of inadequacy. Her magic didn't feel strong. Didn't feel right. It felt distant—as if it belonged to someone else.
A blur of motion.
She barely had time to react before the monster lunged, it's unnatural, patchwork body twisting as it lashed its tail through a collapsed flower stand. Petals exploded upward in a burst of color—almost beautiful, if not for the splinters slicing the air like shrapnel.
She barely managed to throw herself to the side, heart pounding as her boots scraped over cracked stone. She hissed through her teeth and skidded to a stop.
"Ashya! Switch!" she shouted, voice raw with urgency.
But there was no response.
Ashya didn't even flinch.
The other girl was still moving——still brilliant, still burning—but Maggie saw it now. The drag in her steps. The hesitation after every blow. Her fire, once overwhelming, flickered at the edges. She was tired.
Ashya hurled a final burst of flame, catching the Nue across the shoulder. It flashed bright in the noonday sun, too bright—but the beast barely flinched. It reeled, more annoyed than hurt.
It wasn't enough.
- ✧ ❖ ✧ -
"Ashya!" Maggie tried again, louder this time. She shoved herself upright, breath catching in her throat. Her heart raced, a mix of worry and frustration building, as she shifted her gaze from Ashya to Sirene, hovering in the air, palms glowing, as she prepared for their earlier plan beneath the broken clock tower.
Sirene needed help—Ashya's help.
And Maggie?
She wasn't doing enough.
She wasn't enough.
Her hands trembled at her sides. Her breath came short and uneven. Every spell she'd cast so far had fizzled or misfired—half-hearted flashes that hadn't made a dent. Her magic felt weak. No—not weak. Just... wrong. Disconnected. As if it knew she didn't believe in it as much as it didn't believe in her.
She clenched her fists. She shouldn't be struggling this much—not when Ashya and Sirene were doing so much more, not when they needed each other. Maggie's stomach twisted. She wanted to contribute, to be useful, but every spell she cast had barely been enough to hold the Nue at bay.
We finish this. Together.
The words echoed in her mind—Sirene's voice, kind and clear even through the chaos of the moment. But the words didn't feel like they belonged to her yet. As much as Maggie wanted to fight beside them, she couldn't escape the heaviness in her chest. The nagging feeling that she was failing them—that, like earlier, her magic wouldn't be enough. That she wouldn't be enough.
"Ashya!" Her voice was firmer this time, a mask of confidence she wasn't entirely sure she believed in.
This time, Ashya's head jerked toward her. Her ponytail was beginning to unravel, the loose strands sticking to the sweat along her jaw and neck.The sun caught in her eyes, fierce and bright, blinding. But Maggie could see the resolve still flickering in her friend's gaze. Still, Maggie couldn't afford to wait for Ashya to act. Not this time.
"Sirene needs you!" Maggie pointed toward the floating nymph, her palms glowing with energy. Mist gathered around the broken clock tower, swirling as if alive before swallowing the area whole.
Her throat tightened, but she swallowed hard, pushing back the panic threatening to rise. Don't show it. Don't show you're afraid. Her voice softened. "Sirene needs you. Please."
Ashya didn't move.
Of course she didn't.
Maggie could see the frustration in her, the familiar urge to fight on her own terms and to burn through every last ounce of magic. Ashya wasn't the type to back down.
But this wasn't where she was needed.
Maggie took a shaky breath. Even if her magic wasn't like theirs—even if it was flickering and strange, starlit and temperamental—she could still be useful. She had to be.
But she didn't have time for that kind of magic now. She needed control, force, something to make her useful.
"I can't leave you to deal with this alone," Ashya growled, still standing her ground. "You also need me here."
"But I don't need you here," Maggie snapped, more fiercely than she intended. "I need you there, with Sirene! You're wasting time standing here."
Ashya didn't seem to like that, her brows knitting in frustration, but Maggie didn't care. She was already taking matters into her own hands, pushing past the sinking feeling in her chest that begged her to stop, to trust Ashya's instincts.
"I can't just wait for you to decide," Maggie said, the words tumbling out. "I'll keep the Nue distracted. You just go help her. Don't worry about me." Her voice was louder now, more defiant. She wasn't about to let Ashya question her. Not now. Not when Sirene's plan was their only chance of stopping the monster..
"I said I'm not leaving you to do this alone," Ashya shot back, taking a step toward her, clearly not buying into Maggie's bravado. "We're a team, Maggie."
Maggie's jaw clenched. She didn't feel like part of a team right now. Not when she felt like she was about to crack under the pressure. Not when her spells faltered the second they left her hands. Not when her heart was one wrong word from cracking open.
"I don't need anyone else to distract this thing, and I'm not about to stand here just looking pretty. I can handle it, Ashya." The words came out sharper than she intended, but she didn't care. "You go help Sirene. I've got this."
Her fists tightened bitterly at her sides, knuckles white. The truth that her magic was still flickering, slipping through her fingers like sand in water. Focus, she told herself. But doubt was still clawing at her mind. Otherwise how else could I make myself useful?
Ashya's eyes narrowed, clearly not happy with the way things were going. But before she could protest again, a voice cracked across the square, sharp and commanding.
"Ashya!" Sirene barked, her tone cracking. "Get your stupid troll-strength over here! I won't be able to move this alone!"
That cut through the tension. Ashya's head snapped toward Sirene, and Maggie could see the immediate shift. The stubbornness broke for a second, but only just.
Ashya cursed under her breath and started toward Maggie. Her movements were sharp, angry, but Maggie could see something softer in the tension of her jaw, the tightness in her posture. When Ashya reached her, she grabbed Maggie's wrist—hard, maybe harder than necessary, the grip almost bruising.
"Promise me," Ashya growled, her voice low and fierce, "you won't be reckless. You stay away from that thing and wait for SeaweedBrain and I to make our moves. If you get hurt—" Ashya's eyes flashed with a cold, deadly intensity. "I'll kill you myself."
Maggie froze, her heart stumbling. She met Ashya's eyes, and for a moment, she didn't know what to say. She didn't want to promise. Didn't want to need to promise. But—
"I promise," she said quietly, the words slipping out before she could stop them. But Maggie didn't know if she believed it herself.
Ashya searched her face for something—maybe truth, maybe sincerity—and Maggie held her breath, silently begging Ashya not to see the cracks in her resolve, the things she couldn't say.
"Mean it," Ashya demanded, her voice low, almost a growl.
"I do," Maggie replied, her words soft, but they didn't quite feel like her own. She wasn't sure why; she just knew she had to follow through. She had to.
The Nue growled. Maggie's pulse quickened. She wasn't sure how long she could keep it distracted, but she'd be damned if she let it destroy everything. No. She'd do whatever it took until Ashya and Sirene finished what they needed to do. She had to.
Ashya's lips parted, as though she wanted to say something more—something else she hadn't voiced yet—but the words never came. She seemed to be grappling with something, hesitation flickering in her eyes for just a moment.
Maggie saw it, just for an instant—the fierce, protective force behind Ashya's anger.
Before Ashya could find the words, Maggie waved her hand dismissively, rolling her eyes with a grin she didn't quite feel. "I know, I know... you'll kill me yourself if I get hurt. Now go."
Ashya cursed something under her breath, the words sharp and laced with fury. With a violent tug, she wrenched her wrist free from Maggie's grip, her eyes flashing with purpose. Without another word, Ashya leapt into the air, her fire trailing like a comet's tail as she shot toward the clock tower. The heat radiated from her as if the sky itself had caught fire, and Maggie's chest tightened, watching her go.
Okay. You've got maybe a few minutes. Five, if you're lucky.
She took a breath, the scent of smoke and ozone stinging her lungs. The air was thick, oppressive, heavy with the weight of battle. She took another breath, grounding herself, and forcing her pulse to steady. She didn't have time to panic.
- ✧ ❖ ✧ -
Just stick to the plan.
Sirene had said the foundation was cracked—fractured and weakened when the Nue first landed. That was their opening. Beneath the tiles, the soil still held moisture, and if Sirene could saturate it, the lightning from the Nue's body would be pulled downward, grounding its deadly energy instead of letting it tear through the plaza. But the trap would only work if the Nue stayed where it was. If it moved, or worse, noticed the exposed earth beneath it, everything would fall apart.
But that only worked if the Nue stayed on the weakened stone. If it moved or noticed the trap, they'd lose the opening—and probably everything else with it.
That's where Maggie came in.
She was the bait. A decoy.
She had to draw the Nue into the exposed ground and keep it there—just long enough for Ashya and Sirene to time it right and bring the bell down from the tower. It was already hanging precariously above, loosened by the first blast. If they could break the final supports with a joint strike, it would fall directly on the creature's back.
At least... that was the plan.
Maggie clenched her hands at her sides again, willing the fear to sit behind the task at hand.
Keep its attention. Lead it in. Hold your ground.
She exhaled slowly, her voice low and steady now.
"Alright. Let's make this count."
Ahead, the Nue snarled again, the sound reverberating through the square. Its maw crackled with sparks, like a thunderstorm waiting to break free, but its focus was trained on the clock tower—on Ashya and Sirene. But that's not where it needed to be.
Maggie stepped forward, her boots digging into the scorched cobblestones as she planted herself firmly in the square. "Hey!" she shouted, her voice carrying across the space. "Look over here, you oversized frankensteined fleabag!"
The beast didn't even twitch. Its eyes remained locked on the tower.
Really?
She narrowed her eyes, a flush of irritation rising in her chest. "Are you kidding me right now?"
Maggie's eyes narrowed in frustration. She wasn't about to go down without a fight. "Come on!" she shouted, her voice rising. "I'm right here, you overgrown scrapheap! You're supposed to be scary, right?"
Still nothing.
It was like shouting into a void. The creature didn't even look at her, as if she were nothing but a passing breeze. Maggie felt her irritation flare. It was like being ignored at a royal banquet—only this time, the stakes were higher. Much higher. Her fingers twitched at her sides, the sparks of her magic flickering faintly in her palms. Her own starlit energy—familiar but so distant—skittered just out of reach, like a star she couldn't quite reach.
She could try again. She could shout louder. Focus harder. But—
No. She needed something else. Something more immediate. Loud. Obnoxious. Something Ashya would do without a second thought.
And then it hit her.
Ashya's fire spells always started with a snap—a flick of the wrist and a rush of heat that exploded outward. Maggie had seen it a thousand times. She had even sketched out the magic circles once during a lecture she was bored in. It was instinctual for Ashya, as easy as breathing. Maggie had even asked to learn it once—or at least, tried to—when she was younger, pestering Ashya during one of their many long afternoons spent practicing.
And Bloom? She remembered watching her idol work her fire magic, watching the way the flames bloomed in the air, alive and wild with power. The heat, the flow, the rhythm of it—it was all so clear in Maggie's mind. She could almost feel the dance of it, the way it moved with such ease. Bloom's fire didn't just burn; it grew, blossoming like a flower from the ground, untamed and vibrant.
Sure, fairies weren't supposed to mess with other elements. It was a tradition in magical theory, something that was drilled into every young fairy's head from the moment they learned to channel their magic. Your elemental source—your origin—was the defining boundary of your power. Trying to use something else? A pale imitation of what it should be.
But Maggie wasn't about to let tradition stop her right now.
She inhaled sharply, lifting her hand, her fingers trembling just slightly as she focused. She envisioned Ashya's fire—the way it sparked, the way it snapped to life with that impossible defiance—and she did it.
The wrist flick. The spark. The rush.
Maggie's magic flared. A small flame sputtered to life in her palm. It danced unsteadily, flickering awkwardly like a candle struggling in the wind, its colors too faint, its heat uneven. It wasn't like Ashya's—nothing like Ashya's. But it was fire.
Sort of.
Maggie stared at it, blinking in surprise. "Huh."
It felt... foreign. Not like her usual magic, which was fluid, elusive, like a shooting star. This was solid, stubborn, and warm. It burned with warmth, an odd, unfamiliar warmth, but it was hers. It wasn't perfect, not yet, but it didn't feel…wrong.. Just different.
But still, it would have to do.
With a deep breath, Maggie hurled it.
The flame hit the Nue's flank with a startled hiss, catching along one of the frayed, pulsing seams of its patchwork body. The creature shrieked and stumbled to the side, lashing out violently in the direction of the strike.
There you go.
Its eyes snapped to her now—recognition burning there. Its lips peeled back in a snarl, fangs glinting in the midday sun.
"Oh. So now you notice me."
Maggie took a shaky step back, then another, heart hammering in her chest. The Nue advanced, furious now, and right on cue, it began to charge.
She spun on her heel and ran—straight for the exposed patch of soaked ground Sirene had prepared.