Last month, I started writing Winx fanfiction. I wanted to finish this story by Valentine’s Day, but schoolwork — and nervousness — got in the way. Now I’m finally done…with the first chapter. Good grief.
As you can guess from the picture, “The Storm” is about Aisha and Nex. Expect most of my fanfics to be about them. No couple in this series has ever ignited my imagination as much as they do. They’re a treasure-trove of creative ideas waiting to be used to tell thrilling, clever, romantic, and even profound stories.
Let me guess: you think I’m exaggerating, right? Okay then. Give me a chance to show you why this couple’s so unique and powerful together.
My story takes place on Andros between seasons seven and eight, ignoring the comics (they’re not canon, anyway).
By: The Oblivious Prattler
When would her silly boyfriend learn not to make bets he couldn’t win?
Aisha smirked as she led Nex along the palace-side beach, staying close to the shoreline so he could feel the lukewarm water sweep across his feet, and the crisp, salty breeze brush his cheek. He’d let his guard down if she lulled him into a vacation mood. She watched his face. No smile yet, but she’d change that in a few seconds.
Her beloved oceans showed off for him, as if they were in on her plan. Faking a tour guide voice, she pointed out every detail: the sparks of sunlight twinkling on the surface like the energy in a fairy’s wings; the gradients of teal and sky-blue, shifting to green where the water mixed with the sand; the waves — perfect for surfing — roaring and bubbling as they tumbled onto the shore and dissolved into suds.
Nex just nodded. The corners of his mouth sagged like he’d glued them to his chin, and his eyes had a mischievous sparkle in them.
She should have known. He never let her win easily.
At least she had another trick waiting in the village: the street musicians’ drums. No one could resist them! He wouldn’t be able to stop smiling, as the beat took control of his arms, his hips, his feet.
Aisha glanced at his slip-ons and grinned. Yeah, he could dance in those.
The familiar stone and brick buildings began to rise in front of them. She closed her eyes and listened for the drums in the distance, usually the first sound she heard. Where were they? The only noise was sails rustling by the beach. And where were the villagers? They always greeted her — their princess — as she walked by. A chill crept through her body as she scanned the deserted streets. All the doors and windows were covered by beams and planks, clogging the air with the stench of freshly-cut oak.
Near the square, the marketplace looked like a monster had attacked it. Nothing remained but torn tents, shards of wood, and rotting food scattered on the ground, along with tables with their legs chopped off.
“What happened? Where’d everybody go?” she said. Nex held her hand tighter and caressed it with his thumb.
“They’re gettin’ ready for Oya!” a gritty voice called out from behind.
Both of them jumped. Where did that man come from? Well, at least they weren’t alone. As they approached him, he bobbed his head like a parrot and nearly dropped one of the logs he was carrying.
Oya? Of course. That explained everything. Maybe she’d been away from home for too long.
“That’s right,” she said with a sigh. “It’s almost time, isn’t it?”
“Ay, Your Highness,” said the man. “Me favorite time of year! Ha ha! Oya’s big business for we carpenters. Sold outta all me wood yesterday! These are for me fireplace. Could be rainin’ for a while.”
“Glad you’re prepared. I’m sure the farmers are happy, too. We need the rain.”
“Ay.” He nodded solemnly. “Long as it ain’t too much. Lost a lotta crops in the floods last year. Me shack came tumblin’ down, too. Had to build it up again. Oya’s a fearsome beast. Can’t take ‘er lightly.”
Nex gently nudged Aisha with his arm. “What’s Oya? Is that a holiday or something?”
“Listen to this one! A holiday?” The carpenter’s laugh shook the ground.
“He’s not from around here,” said Aisha, choking back a chuckle. “It’s a storm, sweetie. A big one.”
Nex’s eyes grew as big as islands. “Whoa! Seriously?”
“It’s okay.” She rubbed his chest. “We’ll be back in Magix before it gets here.”
TO BE CONTINUED