Winx Club: Dark Magic (Season 4)

XXX: The Worst Nice Place

Anagan had hardly been excited at the prospect of visiting Andros again, and now that they'd arrived, he was counting the minutes until they could leave. It wasn't that Andros wasn't a nice place; with shimmering aquamarine oceans, majestic cliffside views and glistening alabaster castles, not to mention a climate that consistently stayed at a perfectly pleasant mid-spring temperature almost year-round, it had just about everything to recommend itself. But if there was one thing Anagan had learned, it was that the past was permanent, and the Wizards' history with Andros was covered in red - and not in the good way. 

It made the gentle, salty mist in the air feel sharp and smell foul; the peaceful cawing of birds overhead became shrill and deafening; even the sunrise was simultaneously offensive in both the laziness of its climb and the sudden, unapologetic brightness it brought; but Anagan said nothing aloud to Ogron, knowing the damage that could cause. 

"He'd better meet us on-time; I can't wait to leave this planet," Ogron said, unprovoked, as though he'd been reading Anagan's mind. 

"He'll be there. Andros isn't that bad, is it?" Anagan asked absently, feeling the unconscious need to defend the planet's merit despite himself. 

Ogron merely shot him a look before continuing down the still shade-covered beach, while Anagan walked to his right and just a few paces behind. He caught a few of Ogron's long stares out over the watery horizon as the sun continued creeping up and wondered what he must be thinking. Two hundred years since they'd visited Andros, and still, Anagan was sure that the old wounds for Ogron still felt fresh. 

Another few minutes of walking passed before the two wizards reached a small bunch of drashi'i trees three or four dozen feet from the shoreline. Neither had even had the time to remark aloud at their informant's absence when the elf seemingly materialized out of the bark of one of the trees, changing his chameleon-like skin into more elf-like tones and stepping away from his camouflaged spot. 

"Gentlemen," Inqru the elf greeted, tipping his brimmed green hat to them. "So kind of you to venture out to this cozy little huddle of mine."

"Let's make this quick, elf," Ogron spat back, his step halted but his stance leaning ever-so-slightly forward so as to give the impression of a muted threat. 

"You promised us some information, Inqru," Anagan added to their informant -and friend of several decades- in a less harsh tone than his compatriot. 

"Indeed, I did," Inqru grinned gleefully, pulling something from the leafy satchel on his hip. "And I have not arrived empty-handed, dear Ogron, so put that frown away."

Ogron was silent in response, but his eyes conveyed every bit of malice burning in his soul more effectively than words could have. 

Inqru, evidently unbothered by Ogron's temperament beyond making jest of it, carefully unwrapped a small bundle of cloth and presented its contents to the two wizards: a few delicate pink flowers with bright leafy stems and singed around the edges, and four small shards of iridescent crystal. 

Anagan examined the pieces carefully, but Ogron was not so patient; the redheaded wizard took two seconds to inspect Inqru's findings before hissing at the elf's overly merry expression: "and just what are we meant to do with this?"

"Come, come, now, wizard friend," Inqru said, beaming proudly at the objects in his outstretched hands. "Must I really spell out the mystery for you, or won't you entertain a tragically underutilized elf like myself and take a gander or two? I've not brought you here for jokes, I assure you; my purpose is good and true."

Seeing Ogron's fists and jaw tightening at every word, Anagan quickly stepped between the two of them and calmly offered to manage the issue himself, to which Ogron threw his hands up and walked back towards the water by himself. 

"Inqru," Anagan sighed, turning back around to the elf. "You know what it's like for him to be here - is the showmanship really necessary?"

"We've had this conversation many times, dear friend," answered Inqru, nodding jubilantly. "Theatrics are to elves what spells-"

"Are to sorcerers," Anagan said. "I know, I know. Just... You know, given that you insisted on meeting here, of all places, I thought you might make some concessions."

"Excuse me, laddie, but it were the two of you who rushed me to investigate on such short notice; I should be allowed to say where's most convenient for me. My agents have been busy, busy, busy trying to gather this all for me. And besides - Ogron's not over that yet? Of course, I realize it weren't pleasant or meaningless, but it's been, what? Two, three hundred years now? I'd have thought-"

"So what did you bring us, Inqru?" Anagan interrupted again, ignoring the questions and praying Ogron was far enough away so as not to have heard Inqru's wildly inappropriate ramblings. 

The elf huffed. "Fine - since you two are so allergic to some creative thinking today, I'll play ringleader. The fauna here-" Inqru glanced at the partially burnt flower in his hands "-is doubtless the product of the nature fairy who travels with your Winx. There was forensic evidence of a portal, likely from the sun fairy -hence the charred edges on those leaves, there- and all on the last planet any of 'em belong, explained by them shards." 

Anagan reached his hand out to touch one of the crystal pieces - still bitterly cold, despite the warm and humid air. "Zenith," Anagan concluded, recognizing the hues on the crystal shards now. "But what's..." his voice trailed off. 

"Trian, the old coot," Ogron said, having silently reappeared at Anagan's side. His annoyed scowl was now replaced with a wide and devious grin. "They're looking for the decrepit members of the Magix Alliance. No doubt on Faragonda's advice."

Anagan felt a chill go up his spine. If the Winx were on the hunt for the Magix Alliance, they had some idea of what the Wizards were up to. "That's worse news than I wanted," Anagan confessed. 

"Why?" Ogron raised an eyebrow. "Now we know who they're looking for, and why; all they've done now it basically drawn us up blueprints for how to lead them astray. We know what they want, and where they're going - it really doesn't get easier."

A barely audible hum escaped Inqru, who listened quietly. 

"Something interesting, elf?" Ogron asked. 

"Well...," Inqru paused, thinking whether or not to say anything, but love of his own voice won out over caution, as was usually the case. "Way I see it, friend, is if these fairies you're after are looking for the Magix Alliance, there's really only one reason, that being to combat one or more parts of the Black Trinity, which would be wholly ridiculous since every progeny from that group is long dead. Unless..."

"I'd cut that thought off at the root, friend," Ogron warned. 

"And I'd like to," Inqru nodded. "Believe me, I'd like to, but news like this is bound to travel, and when it does-" 

And in an instant with one wave of his hand, Ogron reduced the elf and his little parcel to ashes in the sand, ending the threat then and there.