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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Xanthy opened her eyes. Cirasa was gone.
They had camped on the forest floor as soon as the moons replaced the sun in the sky. There's nothing that would eat them in the darkness, was there? Without their magic, they couldn't tell if there was someone watching them so Xanthy suggested that they should just keep their heads between their legs and try to catch some hours. The shard fairy didn't even put up a fight.
Xanthy lost count of how many times she had told herself to master the blooming headache and the heaviness in her limbs. Just six more places. That shouldn't take too long. She might even get back earlier than expected. She had volunteered to be the first watch in case someone was indeed out to eat them but Cirasa teased her into letting him have it. Who was Xanthy to insist on keeping watch?
As the night wore on, Xanthy was awakened by a stray breeze. She sat up, feeling a shard-fairy-shaped vacuum in the space beside her. Her eyes strained in the dark for a mop of pale yellow hair or any white clothing. She found none.
So much for keeping watch. Where was Cirasa?
Xanthy knew nothing about tracking and other survival whatnot, having lived in a discarded town all her life but she found deep footprints from their camp. The tracks imprinted against the moist forest soil, leading to the thicker part of the forest. She'd been to Diven before but this part of it was wilder and more unkempt. Perhaps that's why that pit of carquet flowers was able to flourish without anyone knowing. Imagine the farmers of Diven being horrified when they discover what's lurking in their lands.
She followed the set of footprints with only the moonlights for guidance. The pattern varied unlike the straight array she's leaving behind her. It's like he's staggering. One set even sported a rectangle of upturned soil, as if a foot skidded. Was Cirasa alright? Why did he need to step away?
The footsteps ended on a river where the water gurgled in a faint current. Xanthy gaped. Huh. There's a river in Diven all along? Wasn't this just a paved city? Where could Cirasa have gone from here?
Her eyes rested on a bundle of white by the river's banks. Cirasa. She called his name but he didn't stir. What's going on? Why was he sleeping here?
Xanthy jogged to where he was, dropping to her knees the moment she reached him. "Cirasa?" she called. "What's going on?"
He didn't answer. Under Samiri and Murco's rays, it's hard to tell if he's alive. Xanthy drew her face closer to him and that's when she noted the thin line of blood dripping from the side of his mouth. His eyes were closed. He wasn't moving.
What...
Suddenly, he jerked. Xanthy scrambled back. The shard fairy writhed then retched into the river. June. She needed to get back to him, right? Her heart thundered in her ears as she drew to her knees. Not this. Anything but this. Not yet. Was it because of the lock in their magic? Was this her fault?
