FOURTH BOOK OF THE CHRONICLES OF FANTASILIA SERIES
𝘈 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭. 𝘈 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘦. 𝘈 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵. 𝘈 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦.
Xanthiene Vivenca, a fairy with a bounty for her soul, is caught between...
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A shiver prickled in Xanthy's skin. Gods, this place was creepier than the Temple of Souls and the banshees had their own set of spooks. Since they entered the lighthouse and began their ascent on the stairs, a heavy feeling settled on Xanthy. The creaking wood underneath her feet didn't help, either.
Xanthy's knees shook with every step forward. She craned her neck up. How much more of this? A hundred more? Great.
Cirasa chuckled to himself, the sound of it echoing across the rock walls. He ran his hands against the walls and the stairs' balustrade, stirring up dust and debris that stung Xanthy's eyes and tickled her nose. Ugh. This was worse than the sand.
"Stop that," she hissed, her own voice quivering through the hollow air around them.
Cirasa cleared his throat. How come he didn't get the urge to sneeze? Immunity, maybe? "You should enjoy this historical place," he said. "Not everyone is given a chance to explore places like this."
"What's with this lighthouse anyway?" Xanthy gritted her teeth against the growing numbness gripping her thighs. Stairs. They were annoying.
A gasp made Xanthy look down at Cirasa two steps behind her. "You don't know?"
Xanthy rolled her eyes. Ugh. Here they go again. She'd had enough people tell her that she's an imbecile of not knowing enough history. She clicked her tongue. Well, these pampered pricks didn't spend their childhood surviving on the Disfavoreds. "Yeah, I don't," she said.
"This lighthouse stood during the Hundred Years' War and survived!" Cirasa exclaimed with such wonder and awe. Dust rained from the planks in the ceiling as the lighthouse slightly shook at the echoes of his voice. Xanthy glared at him. He's going to erode this lighthouse faster than rain.
She looked up again. Sunlight shone from the windows but were blocked by some sort of platform made of solid blocks of stone, judging from its gray hue. "I know about the Hundred Years' War," Xanthy braced the balustrade to steady herself. Her knees were unstable for some reason. "And the races included in that."
"So you're familiar with Elves?" Cirasa said.
Xanthy raised an eyebrow even though Cirasa couldn't see her face. "Yeah, what about them?"
"This is their beacon during the war," Cirasa's voice behind her explained in a tone that almost reminded Xanthy of those edict readings she heard in the Commons. "Refugees from across the ocean would sail from Alch Serin in hopes of finding a better life here in Umazure."
Xanthy paused to turn to Cirasa. "Alch Serin?"
The shard fairy waved his hand like Xanthy was supposed to know this information already. "The Elves' continent."
Xanthy stuck her bottom lip out as she resumed her climb. If Umazure was but an island and it's already this big, how much bigger would a continent be? What did a continent even look like? "But didn't the territories back in the War were in one giant landmass and that there were no oceans back then?" she bit her lip when her mind played the memory of June telling her about that.
