[Winx Club] The Fairy Godmother (Anti-Hero / Reincarnation)

[VitahAR]

Bloom woke up to the loud slam of a wardrobe door. She reluctantly opened her eyes and stretched sweetly, working out the muscles that had stiffened after yesterday's detention. The morning light was already flooding the room, promising a clear day. Another loud slam. Bloom turned her head. Musa stood by her open wardrobe, snatching things out of it and carelessly tossing them onto her bed. Bloom slowly sat up on the mattress, rubbing her sleep-filled face. Her gaze swept across the room. Musa started stuffing textbooks into her bag; she didn't even turn her head or show in any way that she had noticed her roommate waking up. The sound of running water came from the bathroom. Someone was taking a shower, and judging by Tecna's absence from the room, it was definitely the Fairy of Technology. Musa, meanwhile, finished packing, walked over to Flora's bed, and gently shook the sleeping Fairy of Nature by the shoulder.

"Flora, time to get up."

Stella was also still asleep. The princess lay on her stomach, her face cozily buried in her pillow and her blonde hair scattered across the sheets. Usually, Musa or Tecna woke her up in the mornings, but today it was clear they couldn't expect any help from the Fairy of Music—Musa was fundamentally ignoring half the room. Apparently, this grand mission would have to be taken on her own shoulders.

"Good morning," Dominique said calmly, lowering her bare feet onto the cool floor.

"Good morning..." Flora replied sleepily and a bit awkwardly, rubbing her eyes.

Musa silently zipped up her bag, completely ignoring the greeting. She slung the bag over her shoulder and, without giving Dominique even a passing glance, walked out of the room. At that moment, the bathroom door opened, releasing a cloud of warm steam, and a fresh-looking Tecna stepped into the room. Dominique, wasting no time, grabbed her things and slipped behind the door the Fairy of Technology had just exited. The hot shower helped finally wash away the remnants of sleep and yesterday's exhaustion. When she returned to the room, towel-drying her hair, Flora immediately slipped into the freed-up bathroom. But Stella, as it turned out, still hadn't been woken up by anyone.

Dominique sighed, walked over to the princess's bed, and ruthlessly yanked the blanket off her. The blonde shivered displeasedly from the morning chill, curled into a ball, hugged her pillow with both arms, and didn't even think about opening her eyes. Dominique walked over to her own wardrobe, quickly got dressed, and then intentionally slammed the door loudly.

"Stella," she called out in a commanding tone. "Get up. Griselda is here."

The princess only let out a martyred groan, burying her nose even deeper into the pillow.

"Mmmm... let her wait... I'm busy..."

"It seems that won't work a second time. Apparently, she's already developed a strong immunity to Griselda's name," Tecna chuckled, watching the princess's bed with interest.

A sleepy Stella looked absolutely hilarious: a disheveled blonde mane, a ridden-up pajama top, and that ridiculous fetal position, permanently fused to the pillow. Her appearance inspired two contradictory feelings at once: mild endearment and a sadistic desire to shake her vigorously.

"Stella, if you don't get up right now..." Dominique scanned the room for inspiration, and her eyes snagged on the doors of the princess's wardrobe. She took a couple of steps toward it and slammed the door so hard the hangers jingled. "Oh my God, Stella! Someone stole all your new dresses!"

"What?!" The princess's eyes snapped open instantly. The sleep vanished from her as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over her head. She sat up sharply in bed, staring at her wardrobe in horror. "What did you say?!"

Dominique calmly pushed the door open slightly, demonstrating that all the countless outfits were hanging in their rightful places, safe and sound.

"I said: get up. Breakfast is soon."

"No, you said..." Stella trailed off, shifting her gaze from the dresses to an unbothered Bloom. It finally dawned on her. "Oh, you..."

She jumped up on the mattress, intending to kick her redhead friend in righteous fury, but her foot treacherously tangled in the crumpled blanket. Stella lost her balance, flailed her arms, and with a loud, entirely unaristocratic curse, flopped back onto the pillows. Tecna's lips twitched slightly as she watched the scuffle.

"Interesting..." the Fairy of Technology muttered. "I wonder how many times that trigger will work?"

"I hope it lasts for at least a week," Dominique grabbed her bag and headed for the exit.

At that moment, the lock clicked, and Flora stepped out of the shower.

"The bathroom is free."

"Excellent!" Stella, instantly forgetting her offense, frantically grabbed a towel, scooped up a pile of fresh clothes, and darted into the bathroom like a bullet.

"Let's go, Tecna. This is going to take a while," Dominique stated, knowing the princess's morning rituals perfectly well.

"The first class today is with Professor Wizgiz," the Fairy of Technology reminded them as she headed for the door. "I hope today he shows us something more interesting than recoloring mice."

"Hey! Wait for me! I'll be quick!" Stella's voice echoed from behind the bathroom door, muffled by the sound of running water.

"We'll save you a seat!" Dominique shouted back. She shifted her gaze to the Fairy of Nature, who was shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot by her bed. "Flora, are you coming?"

"Huh? Yes... coming," Flora hurried after Dominique and Tecna.

The girls stepped out into the bright morning corridor and merged into the stream of students heading for breakfast. On the way to the dining hall, Dominique pondered exactly how today would go. She was mentally preparing herself for the fact that by lunch, every second freshman would be pointing a finger at her. For now, dozens of fairies just rushed past, discussing homework, guys from Red Fountain, and plans for the week. To them, she was still Princess Varanda.

Sitting down at an empty table and placing a plate of bacon and eggs in front of her, the girl cast an observant glance over the crowded, buzzing hall. The majority of the upperclassmen fairies here hadn't crossed paths with her at all and didn't know her from Eve. Most likely, the rumor that some freshman had impersonated a princess would pass through the school as background noise, and no one would care. But her classmates and teachers—that was a different story.

I wonder how Avalon will react? the thought suddenly flashed through Dominique's mind. What a shame his class wasn't on the schedule today. Partially, she couldn't care less about the opinion of the crowd, but for some reason, the reaction of that enigmatic combat magic teacher was the one she wanted to see the most.

Toward the end of breakfast, Stella burst into the dining hall like a hurricane. The princess was pouting fiercely because she had been treacherously abandoned without them waiting for her. Fortunately, they didn't have to listen to her whining for long. There were only ten minutes left until the bell, and in front of Stella sat a steaming pile of pancakes with maple syrup that she desperately wanted to inhale. In the end, the princess made the right choice and chewed more than she complained about her hard life.

Musa never showed up at their table. The Fairy of Music had chosen to sit with some other freshmen at the far end of the hall. Because of this, the girls at that table kept throwing eloquent, judgmental glances toward Stella and her group, having apparently already guessed about the argument and mentally appointed the guilty parties.

Right after breakfast, the girls headed to the classroom, managing to take their seats just as the bell rang. Professor Wizgiz literally materialized in a cloud of sparks a minute later next to his desk, and immediately hopped right onto the tabletop, as was his habit.

"Good morning, young ladies!" the leprechaun greeted them cheerfully.

The class responded with a disjointed, sleepy hum.

"I see you're all in a wonderful mood today, that's just fantastic!" Wizgiz broadcasted joyfully, pacing back and forth across the tabletop.

"I would beg to differ..." Stella, sitting next to Dominique, grimaced quietly.

She had been unceremoniously shoved awake today, forced to rush through the shower, only managing to hastily brush her hair, and hadn't even applied her mandatory light makeup. So her mood was infinitely far from what the professor was describing.

"Alright! In the last lesson, all of you did a wonderful job recoloring the mice's fur orange," Wizgiz clapped his hands. "And that means it's time to experiment on yourselves!"

The leprechaun laughed merrily. In response, an anxious whisper rolled through the class.

"There's no need to be frightened, I am absolutely certain everyone will succeed!" the professor waved his arms soothingly. "The absolute worst that threatens you in case of a loss of concentration is temporarily losing your hair. That is such a trifle, honestly! It'll grow back in a couple of weeks!"

The girls in the audience gasped in unison. A few instinctively clutched their hairstyles.

"But those who succeed will be able to forget about hair dye forever!" With a theatrical gesture, Wizgiz took off his tall green hat.

His completely bald crown was instantly covered with a thick mop of chestnut hair. Right before the students' eyes, his newly grown hair began to rapidly change color. First, it turned blue-black, then transformed into a platinum blonde, then flared blue, and finally settled on a bright pink color. An awed sigh swept through the classroom. The girls were clearly inspired by the prospect, but the threat of going bald still palpably cooled their ardor.

"But before we move on to the practical part of our lesson," Wizgiz suddenly stopped and put his hat back on, hiding the pink curls, "I think someone might want to introduce themselves to the class once more. Isn't that right, Miss Bloom?"

Dominique froze. Her heart skipped a beat.

"Headmistress Faragonda informed the teaching staff about your situation this morning," Wizgiz smiled encouragingly.

"I..."

"Please, step up here. Don't be shy, my dear. Introduce yourself with your real name."

Dominique slowly stood up from her desk and walked over to the teacher's table. Thirty pairs of eyes instantly locked onto her. Bewildered, curious, openly surprised, and, it seemed, one gloating—from Musa, of course. Dominique swept her gaze over the class, frantically trying to figure out how to act. Wizgiz had completely blindsided her with this "step up and introduce yourself" routine. She hadn't intended to put on a public performance at all, but since there was no way out, her choices were slim. All that was left was to put on the mask of an innocent victim of circumstance—teenage girls love that sort of thing and are quick to forgive.

"Well... As the professor said, I am not actually Princess Varanda," Dominique began, lowering her eyes. A loud murmur of surprise rippled through the audience. "My real name is Bloom. I... I am so ashamed that I lied to you all for so long. I sincerely apologize for..."

"Oh, honestly, my dear, there is absolutely nothing to be ashamed of here!" Wizgiz interrupted her loudly, throwing his hands up. "You were merely fulfilling Princess Varanda's request! Taking her place for the sake of the heiress's safety is a very brave and noble act for a young fairy!"

Dominique's brain simply shut down for a second. What the fuck?! Only her colossal past experience helped her keep a straight face and not drop her jaw right onto Wizgiz's shoes. She slowly turned her head and threw a sharp look at Stella. She looked just as dumbfounded. Catching Dominique's unspoken question, the Princess of Solaria only gave a slight, barely noticeable shake of her head, as if to say, "I have absolutely no idea what's going on here."

"It's a great shame that due to security threats, Princess Varanda was forced to decline studying at Alfea this year," the leprechaun shook his head ruefully. "But now that the crisis has passed, you no longer need to impersonate her and carry this burden, Bloom."

"Yes... I... I'm so glad that everything has finally been resolved safely," Dominique squeezed out a soft, relieved smile, instantly adapting to the situation. "I apologize once again, and I hope for your understanding."

She bowed her head guiltily, listening in the background as the class began to buzz with excitement. Mentally, Dominique was trying to digest what was happening. She and Faragonda hadn't agreed to anything like this! With such an elegant move, the Headmistress managed not only to legalize her presence in the school but also to completely salvage her reputation. What it cost Faragonda herself to arrange with the royal family of Callisto to agree to confirm this wild backstory, Dominique didn't even try to guess. However, the fact remained: she now owed the Headmistress for a second time. But what was even more terrifying was that Dominique had absolutely no understanding of the motivation. Why on earth was Faragonda spending so much political influence on some freshman from Earth? Dominique didn't believe in the Headmistress's altruism for a single second.

"Alright, alright, that's enough apologies. You handled your task perfectly. Return to your seat, Bloom!" Wizgiz commanded, and immediately barked at the rest of the class. "Quiet in the classroom! Let's get back to the lesson."

Dominique returned to her desk and sat next to Stella. The princess looked at her with wide eyes but said nothing. As soon as Bloom sat down, Professor Wizgiz snapped his fingers. At that exact moment, the notebooks lying in front of each student hopped up and transformed into elegant hand mirrors.

"Metamorphism of one's own body is a much more complex process than recoloring someone else's fur!" the leprechaun began to explain, pacing across the desk. "There are no ready-made spells for this! Here, everything depends on your individual understanding of yourself. After all, we are all unique. There is no universal formula for changing a specific body part."

He tapped his temple.

"Therefore, you must rely exclusively on your internal ability to control your power and on a clear visualization of who you want to become. Begin! Just remember to be careful!"

The rest of the lesson passed in tense silence, broken only by disappointed sighs. By the end of the class, only Stella, who clearly knew how to do this beforehand, and a couple of other students who likely had some form of home tutoring behind them, managed to successfully change their hair color.

Tecna, who had been openly bored for the entire lesson, finally decided to give it a try right before the bell. Dominique noted with surprise that the Fairy of Technology easily changed her usual crimson color to platinum blonde. And she had to admit, that color definitely suited Tecna, making her facial features even softer and more attractive.

Dominique herself didn't even try to change the color of her red hair. For the whole lesson, she sat looking into the mirror, but she didn't see her own reflection there; instead, she saw the sly, all-forgiving smile of Headmistress Faragonda, who had just fastened yet another leash around her neck.

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[VitahAR]

The sharp, melodic trill of the school bell cut through the silence of the classroom. In that same instant, the elegant hand mirror Dominique was holding turned back into an ordinary notebook with a soft pop.

"Don't be upset, ladies, you have plenty of time ahead for practice!" Wizgiz cheerfully proclaimed, before simply dissolving into thin air.

But for Dominique, the lesson didn't end there. No sooner had the professor vanished than a second, much more exhausting trial began, codenamed "girlish curiosity." As soon as she stood up from her desk, she was immediately surrounded by a tight ring of chirping first-years with their endless "hows," "whats," and "whys." Fortunately, Stella didn't lose her head and stepped in right on time, shielding her from the inquisitive crowd. Together, they masterfully fed the enthusiastic audience a freshly baked legend, confirmed by the Headmistress herself, about a personal request from Princess Varanda. The half-hour break was rapidly melting away, and no matter how curious the girls were, they eventually had to stop their questioning and head to their next class—Nature Magic with Professor Palladium. They stepped out into the hallway, trying to break free from the flow of students.

"What the hell was that just now?" Stella nudged her friend with her shoulder and leaned in, dropping her voice to a tense whisper.

"I'd love to know what kind of games the Headmistress is playing myself," Dominique answered through gritted teeth, keeping a polite half-smile on her face for the passing fairies. "We never agreed to anything like this."

Suddenly, a quiet buzzing sounded from the side. Tecna's spherical drone flew past, and the Fairy of Technology herself fell into step slightly behind them, trying to keep pace.

"Are you saying you didn't know it would go down like this?" Tecna asked in a tone devoid of inflection.

"No. I was just as shocked by what Wizgiz pulled," Dominique turned to her, looking her straight in the eye.

"But you realize how absurd this sounds from a logical standpoint?" Tecna crossed her arms over her chest. "First, you claim to be Varanda. Saturday night, you say you're Bloom from Earth. This morning, the Headmistress officially announces that you were covering for the Princess at her personal request. Where is the truth in all this, Bloom?"

Tecna stopped. Her drone, making a smooth semicircle, hovered right over Dominique's shoulder. Flora, who had been trudging silently behind them the whole time, also stopped in confusion next to the technology fairy. It was clearly visible on the nature fairy's face that she was completely tangled in this web of lies and no longer knew what to believe. The four girls froze in the middle of the wide corridor, forming a tense island that the students rushing to class carefully navigated around.

"I will tell you," Dominique gave a short nod and looked around, realizing the hallway wasn't the best place for confessions. "Let's sit down quietly in our room after classes and talk. If you are ready to listen, I will tell you everything. Holding nothing back."

"We wanted to tell you everything on the very first day, but someone threw a tantrum out of nowhere!" Stella chimed in, crossing her arms in offense.

Tecna lowered her gaze to the screen of the communicator on her wrist and gave a barely noticeable sigh. Dominique could have sworn: for a fraction of a second, a jagged green line flashed across the flickering display, looking suspiciously like a pulse or breathing rate graph. Did she hook up some kind of portable polygraph to us through her drone?! Dominique barely suppressed a nervous chuckle, glancing sideways at the hovering sphere, whose lens whirred and rotated strangely. Or is my paranoia just going into overdrive? But whatever it was, the Fairy of Technology had drawn her conclusions. She nodded and turned to Flora.

"I think we should give them a chance to explain. What do you think, Flora?"

"I... I want to know the truth too," the nature fairy nodded quietly but firmly. "This uncertainty... it's just destroying us from the inside."

"Alright. Then we will postpone the conversation until tonight," Tecna gave everyone a serious look. "But there's another problem... Musa."

Stella grimaced as if she had bitten into a lemon.

"What about Musa? She doesn't want to listen to anything at all! She'll just throw another fit, start slamming doors and yelling! Why do we need that concert?"

"Because she lives in the same room with us, and she needs to be aware of what is going on," Tecna countered. "Otherwise, living in such a stressful state won't lead to anything good."

"I agree, this fight isn't doing anyone any good," Flora softly supported her. "If we could just talk and make peace, so everything could be like before... that would be great."

"She at least talks to you. Can you convince her to come to the room tonight without a scandal?" Tecna asked Flora.

"I... I'll try," the girl nodded, though her voice lacked total confidence.

"Good, then..." Tecna started to say, but didn't get to finish.

A sharp trill of the bell rang over their heads once again, announcing the start of class.

"First period is with Professor Palladium, and we are now officially late," Tecna stated dryly, glancing at her watch. "Just perfect."

"To hell with classes, the fate of our team is actually being decided here!" Stella protested.

"Alright, girls, let's discuss everything after classes," Dominique commanded, cutting off the brewing argument.

Tecna gave a short nod, Flora looked openly alarmed at the fact that they were late, and Stella grimaced in displeasure, showing her reluctance to attend the subject with her entire demeanor. But no matter how much the princess wanted to skip, getting caught by the omnipresent Griselda in an empty hallway was a far more terrifying prospect. They already had a month of detention with mops hanging over them, and if they gave Griselda a reason, she would gladly double that sentence. Wasting not another second on talk, the girls headed to class at a brisk pace. The Nature Magic classroom was located in the left wing of the castle, which was adjoined on the outside by a garden and massive glass greenhouses. The classroom they needed was located precisely in one of these extensions.

As soon as Dominique pushed open the heavy doors, the first thing she felt was an incredibly thick, rich scent. The huge, sun-drenched room smelled of dozens of blooming exotic plants, whose vines hung right down from the glass ceiling.

"You are late, young ladies," a soft, melodic male voice called out from the back of the classroom. "Quickly, take the empty seats, we have only just begun."

Dominique and Stella quickly slipped into the very back desk and were finally able to focus on the teacher. He had sharp, long ears and thick wheat-colored hair, neatly tied back at the nape of his neck. He was dressed with impeccable elegance, yet slightly old-fashioned: a snow-white shirt with wide sleeves, light trousers tucked into high brown boots, and a fitted green vest with a cravat. Dominique had seen elves on the streets of Magix before, and she frequently spotted Professor Palladium himself in the school cafeteria or the hallways. But today was the first time he was teaching their class. Right now, the elf was sitting quite casually on the edge of a massive teacher's desk, next to which towered a giant wooden hourglass measuring the lesson's time.

"And so," Professor Palladium swept his calm gaze over the class, "today we are going to talk about how magic interacts with wild nature, and why even the most powerful fairy should sometimes rely on her instincts rather than spells..."

"But Professor, we aren't all nature fairies here," a disgruntled voice suddenly rang out from the adjacent row.

Amaryl—for it was indeed her—cast a look of mild contempt toward Flora. The nature fairy at that moment was gazing in delight at the massive glass walls of the greenhouse, thickly entwined with emerald vines and bizarre flowers.

"For what I will be teaching you here, it is absolutely not necessary to be a nature fairy, Miss..." Professor Palladium smiled politely.

"Amaryl," the girl raised her chin proudly. "And I am the Fairy of Starlight. These little flowers are kind of..."

"I understand you, Amaryl," the elf interrupted her softly but insistently. "However, light magic synergizes perfectly with flora. Without light, there is no growth. You are much closer to nature than you can even imagine."

The elf hopped off the desk and paced smoothly down the aisles, scanning the audience with an attentive gaze.

"By the way, are there any among you who hail from Linphea?"

A few hands went up hesitantly into the air. Flora also timidly raised her palm. Professor Palladium's face instantly lit up with a warm, genuine smile.

"Oh, how wonderful! My compatriots. I welcome you," he gave a slight, almost imperceptible bow. "But let us return to our topic. Nature studies is not a science about memorized spells and combat stances. It is about sensations. About the ability to listen and be in harmony with the surrounding world. I will teach you how to survive in the wild: how to navigate a forest by the moss, how to find safe shelter, how to properly ask a plant to share its moisture with you if you are dying of thirst..."

"Excuse me, Professor," a girl at a back desk raised her hand. "What is the problem with simply conjuring water for yourself with magic? For example, the spell 'Aqualis.' On Andros, where I am from, absolutely every mage knows it from a young age. Look."

The girl extended her hand over the desk and snapped her fingers. Right above her open palm, a complex, blue-glowing rune circle instantly flared to life. It consisted of several concentric rings covered in fine script, within which strict lines intersected, and runic symbols shone in smaller circles. The air above the rune circle rippled, and in its center, a large sphere of water materialized out of nowhere, quivering slightly like mercury. Dominique leaned forward with interest. It genuinely looked impressive.

"An excellent question!" Palladium perked up. "This water looks like water, it feels wet to the touch, and if you drink it, it will even give you the sensation of quenching your thirst. But alas, young ladies, this sensation is a deadly illusion."

The professor stepped closer to the girl's desk and pointed a long finger at the hovering sphere.

"Your spell does not create water out of the void. 'Aqualis' merely transmutes your own innate magical energy into the shape of water. By swallowing it, you will gain absolutely nothing useful. Your body needs real water with minerals, not structured mana. In a real survival situation, feeding on your own illusions, you will simply die of dehydration, and with a stomach full of your own magic to boot. That is exactly why you must know how to interact with the living world," Palladium concluded.

He waved his hand smoothly, and a small clay pot landed with a soft thud on the desk in front of each student. Sticking out of the dark soil was a dense, tightly closed green bud, looking very much like a large Earth tulip.

"This is a Moonflower," the professor announced. "A nocturnal plant that opens its petals exclusively at night. Your task for today is to try and convince the plant to open right now. And the most important condition: the use of any spells is strictly prohibited. Only harmony and your inner intent. You may begin."

The classroom plunged into focused sniffling and huffing. Girls stroked the pots, whispered things to the buds, someone even tried humming. As expected, things went quickly for the fairies from Linphea: Flora simply wrapped her hands around her pot, closed her eyes, and her bud almost instantly bloomed into a beautiful, silvery flower. Stella, sitting next to Dominique, sighed heavily as she looked at her tulip.

"Alright, little flower, how about a little sun?"

The princess held her open palm up to the bud. Her hand suddenly began to radiate a soft, warm light. But instead of opening, the Moonflower bud contracted violently, as if burned, and leaned to the side, trying to hide from the direct "sunlight."

"Hey! What gives?" the princess huffed in indignation.

"Stella, it's a moon flower," Dominique pointed out in a low voice, watching her attempts. "It needs night light."

"Oh right, exactly! I always forget about the second half of my title," Stella slapped her palm against her forehead. "Take two."

She brought her hand to the flower again; this time, the warm glow faded, giving way to a silvery luminescence. The bud immediately twitched, reaching gratefully toward the source of the cool glow, and its petals opened with a soft rustle.

"Professor! She's cheating!" Amaryl immediately shrieked, whipping around to face the princess. "You expressly forbade the use of spells!"

"I wasn't using a spell, you idiot," Stella replied lazily, not removing her glowing hand. "I am the Princess of Solaria, the Fairy of the Sun and Moon. Light is my innate power. I just gave it what it likes."

Palladium walked over to their desk, looked carefully at the bloomed flower, and nodded approvingly.

"Princess Stella is absolutely correct, Miss Amaryl. She used her innate power to find harmony with the plant. Light and life always go hand in hand. A wonderful solution!"

Amaryl snorted in irritation, crossing her arms. Then, narrowing her eyes, she turned to her own bud and held her palm over it too, trying to replicate Stella's trick. Light did indeed begin to emanate from her fingers, but it was cold, and somehow dim. Her flower only shuddered weakly and slightly parted a couple of its top petals, flatly refusing to bloom completely under such meager illumination. Stella smiled haughtily, catching Amaryl's angry glare. Dominique, meanwhile, was looking at her own tightly shut tulip, thoughtfully drumming her fingers on the tabletop. Light—that was understandable. Plants reach for the light. But what was she supposed to do, a fairy whose nature was fire? How to avoid burning this miserable weed to hell and back, and make it bloom instead?

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