Soul Fire

8.1

The faeries leaned against the damp stone walls coughing and wiping the tears from their eyes. Their magic would heal their lungs quickly, they just had to wait it out.

"I'm so sorry, guys." Bloom said softly, wrapping her arms around her torso. Her eyes darted between her friends, who were eagerly breathing in the fresh air. "I'm still figuring this whole magic thing out.."

"You got us out of there, and that's what matters." Stella rasped out, tucking a loose strand of golden hair behind her ear. "How'd you even do it, anyways?"

Bloom shrugged, and looked down at the ground. "It just kind of happened. Like I just figured out how to read the school and how to communicate with it." Bloom kicked a small rock with her blue boot. It clattered along the floor and bounced off the wall. "It was strange."

"Let's just get back." Musa said, clearing her aching throat. She pulled on her red dress and flared her four rounded pixie wings. "and then forget this whole thing ever happened."

Stella, Musa, Xenia, and Flora didn't shift out of their wings until they stood behind that picture frame of the nine nymphs. They had been too paranoid after their strange evening to shift back, so they stayed on their guard, and had allowed their magic to heal their aching lungs.

Bloom hadn't complained. She'd hardly spent any time with her wings, and had been more than eager to fly up the narrow stairwell rather than climbing the endless stairs.

But behind that picture frame, she allowed herself to relax and peer through the painting. The lounge was empty, so Bloom slowly edged the painting off the wall, allowing the frame to swing open.

Bloom hopped down onto the rug, her blue heels clacking softly. She helped Stella out, and then Musa, Xenia, and flora. Bloom eased the painting back over the secret tunnel, her eyes lingering on Mal as she did so.

The similarities between Stella and her ancient ancestor were startling. Mal's golden hair (the same exact shade as Stella's) was braided around her head, where a golden crown gleamed. She sat upright with perfect posture, looking more regal than any one person had the right to. In her right hand was Sun-Weaver.

Bloom turned towards her friends, and reached her magic inwards to pull on that thread. Her wings and shimmering clothes disappeared in a flash, and Bloom put her hands in the pocket of her black sweatshirt. "I'm exhausted."

Stella, who had also shifted back loudly yawned. "Me too." Her lungs ached and she was eager for a warm bath.

Bloom couldn't take her eyes off that painting. She couldn't explain why, or how, but it felt important to her somehow. Like it was something she needed to know. 

"Uh, professor, can I ask you a question?" Bloom looked up from the lesson book, her fingers tracing a symbol on the page mindlessly.

Professor Palladium looked up from his desk. He had a quill in his hand, which Bloom almost thought was fake, but alas, he was seriously using it to write. "Of course."

"I'm not sure if you've been into the West Wing lounge, but there's this painting that looks really similar to an image on the glass mural near the main staircase. It's a group of nine people sitting at a round table.."

"Ah, the original nine nymphs of magic. Is that what you're asking about?"

Bloom nodded.

"Is there anything in particular you would like to know?" Palladium's hair was pulled back into its typical braid, his pointed ears on full display. Bloom tried not to stare, but it wasn't exactly easy. He was wearing a golden tunic with high collars, and a burnt red jacket that clasped with a chain and pendant over his collarbone.