Princess | Riven (Fate: Winx Saga)

Act One: Epilogue

So I know I said Chapter 7 was the last one, but I was thinking of doing an epilogue just for the fun of it - plus I don't want this book to end yet😭😭

The forest was the orchestra of the mind, playing one enchanting harmony after another. The leaves danced to an unheard beat, whispering their songs to the wind. There was always a symphony that greeted the ears, whether it be the powerful crescendo of the storm, or the gentle lullaby of the sunlight.

And yet today, there was a mournful tune to the trees as the light streaked through the boughs in shadowy beams. The branches shivered in the harsh chorus and even the birdsongs were scarce. Autumn leaves of red and gold and brown carpeted the ground, swerving and twisting in the biting breeze.

Farah Dowling's expression was sober as her gaze rested on the shallow mounds of earth, her hands in the pockets of her navy coat. It seemed fitting to bury the bodies of the Burned Ones - they were clearly human once.

Confusion and frustration coursed through her, and she was torn between wanting to dig up all the answers to the questions piling up inside of her, and leaving the truth hidden. She wasn't quite sure if she wanted to know the answers.

"You buried them." A chillingly familiar voice announced as footsteps neared from behind, "How noble."

Farah stiffened but willed her voice to be steady, "Well, it seemed fitting seeing as they were clearly human at one time." She twisted on her feet and shifted her gaze from the graves to her once-mentor, "But then you knew about them, didn't you?"

Rosalind nodded, almost proudly, "I did. I did."

"Are there more out there?"

The woman smirked, unclasping her hands from behind her back, "Shit ton."

Farah watched with a clenched jaw as Rosalind strolled over to a rusty bench, forgotten by time and intertwined with ivy vines, and perched on the edge of it, patting the space beside her. The sickeningly smug smirk never vanished from her lips. Dowling glanced down at where Rosalind was patting, before raising her chin and lifting her eyes to where the branches swayed in an anticipation-filled melody that coiled the woman's nerves.

"Oh god." Rosalind mused, as if scolding a young child, "Don't pout, Farah."

The woman in question said nothing.

Sighing, Rosalind rolled her eyes, "Fine. I'll let you in on a little secret, just this once." At that, Dowling fixed her with a glare, but Rosalind continued unabashed, "There's a legend. It's a thousand years old - that's how old the Burned Ones are, by the way. They were soldiers from an ancient war. The legend is about the magic used against them; it created them. It's powerful. Primal."

Rosalind paused, and Farah was sure it was just for suspense, for the pure fact that she knew she had spiked the Headmistress's interest and curiosity, and wanted to drag out her storytelling.

"The Dragon's Flame." She finished eventually, the corners of her lips upturned in a small smirk, "It burns inside our changeling friend."

Dowling's eyebrows raised, "So that's how Bloom was able to transform so easily."

"With my guidance, yes." Rosalind nodded, her tone dripping with self-righteousness, "The Burned Ones never stood a chance."

Farah's anger sparked, but before she could snap back any retort, her old mentor held up a hand and cut her off.

"But that's not all." Her smirk grew wider, wicked and twisted, "I didn't realise at first, and when I did, it was too late to reach out to her. But the young Earth Fairy, Morrigan, has an ancient power inside of her - much older than the Dragon's Flame, might I add. It was thought to be merely a myth to the Otherworld, a story told to children before bed."