The Gardenia Civic Center buzzed with energy. The scent of popcorn and roasted nuts mingled with glittering stage lights. Bloom, Stella, Musa, Tecna, Aisha, and Flora walked through the crowd, casual yet alert, attuned to the faint hum of magic in the air.
At the rear balcony, a tall figure leaned against the railing. His dark hair, streaked with metallic-blue, was tied in a ponytail, the braid resting just past his shoulders. His eyes, piercing and icy blue, scanned the hall calmly. His face betrayed almost nothing—if he was curious, amused, or pleased, it was hidden behind a subtle, almost imperceptible smirk.
He wore stylish, boyish clothes—slim pants, layered shirt, fitted jacket—that fit perfectly without drawing attention. With a subtle tap on his watch, his casual jacket shimmered slightly, adjusting to allow free movement if needed. He wasn't obsessed with the Winx, but he knew them well, remembering details with remarkable clarity.
Suddenly, the lights flickered. The music cut abruptly. Shadows stretched, forming into a hulking Dream Creature that lunged at the stage. Screams erupted.
Bloom reacted instinctively, flames igniting in her hands, but the creature's claw moved faster than she anticipated.
CLANG!
A silver-blue sword intercepted the strike. Sparks flew across the stage. Eryndor's wings unfurled — translucent with silver-blue edges, majestic but controlled. His sword traced precise arcs, slicing the creature's claw, and he pivoted under a counter swipe, keeping balance with subtle wing flutters.
Stella: (whispering)
"Did we… order a swordsman for this?"
Bloom: (eyes narrowing)
"Who… are you?"
Eryndor's expression remained calm, almost detached, a faint smirk at the corner of his lips.
Eryndor:
"You already know my name, Bloom."
Tecna's wrist scanner beeped frantically.
Tecna:
"Impossible… no source file. Blank."
The Winx launched a coordinated attack. Musa's sonic waves rattled the creature's torso, Aisha's water whip wrapped around its legs, Tecna's pulse destabilized it, and Bloom's flames scorched its shoulder. Eryndor moved fluidly between their attacks, slashing a diagonal arc across the creature's arm, pushing it into the Winx's combined magic.
With a final precise thrust, he severed one of its claws. The monster dissolved into shadow.
He did not leave immediately. Instead, he stood back, wings shimmering softly, observing the Winx as they checked on civilians. A subtle glance hinted at approval, though his face revealed nothing overt. Only when the crowd calmed did he step aside, mounting his high-tech motorcycle, engine humming low, disappearing smoothly into the night.
Eryndor punched low, spun into a horizontal slash, and deflected the creature's counterattack. His movements were deliberate, fluid, almost dance-like, yet lethal. The creature finally collapsed into shadow, defeated by the combined effort.
After the fight, he stayed. Wings folded subtly, sword sheathed at his side. His posture calm, expression unreadable, he helped the Winx ensure civilians were safe, speaking only when necessary in measured tones. He did not vanish immediately, letting the scene settle naturally.
As the sun dipped, Eryndor trained alone on the rooftops. His ponytail fluttered in the wind as he moved fluidly, sword tracing arcs of silver-blue energy. He lunged, rolled, pivoted, struck — every motion precise, controlled, and balanced. Wings flared subtly to maintain stability.
A new Dream Creature appeared, lunging from an alleyway. Eryndor responded instantly, his strikes measured and purposeful, buying time for the Winx, who arrived moments later. Bloom's flames, Aisha's water whip, Tecna's pulse, and Musa's sonic waves combined with his swordplay to bring the creature down.
Afterward, he remained with them, calm, wings folded. He did not immediately leave, nor did he get on his motorcycle. He watched quietly as they regrouped, posture composed, face unreadable. A subtle glance of approval appeared, almost imperceptible.
Night blanketed Gardenia. A Shadow Creature emerged near the park. This time, Eryndor appeared alongside the Winx, in his combat suit already, wings shining faintly in the dim light. The battle was fluid and immersive: he rolled under a swipe, struck low, deflected attacks with precise arcs, and coordinated naturally with the Winx.
Emotion flickered subtly across his face — concern when civilians were endangered, quiet satisfaction at a clever maneuver — but it was minimal. His expression remained largely unreadable.
After the creature dissolved, the Winx discussed what little they knew. He touched his watch, shifting smoothly back into casual boyish clothes. He stayed with them a while longer, wings folded, chatting quietly and helping assess the situation.
Only at the very end of the episode did he mount his motorcycle, engine humming low, and vanish into the night. His wings shimmered one last time, leaving the Winx with awe, curiosity, and the undeniable sense that they had met a fairy unlike any other.