Xanthy tramped across the drab corridor in search of Reeca. They were bound to leave in an hour and she had to at least treat Reeca's wings before the chaos happens tomorrow.

She passed door after door, nodded to a serzhak or two, and finally located the room where they were stashed in before the Council meeting. She pushed the door open to find the varichria back at her place by the window.

Reeca turned her head as Xanthy shut the door to the room. She cleared her throat and strode across the room to where she left her satchel. "I should look at your wings," she crouched against her satchel. "We'll be heading out soon."

"Where are the others?" Reeca slid off the window and sat on the floor just as Xanthy took out the jar meant for Reeca's wings. Queen's breeches, Xanthy hoped she didn't get them mixed up.

"June's with the Rekshais," Xanthy stalked towards Reeca who turned to show Xanthy her wings. "Cyrdel and Ravalee were somewhere on this floor, doing...you know."

Reeca gave a small chuckle. "Let's get to it, then."

Xanthy peeled back the bandage around Reeca's wings. Nyxis said that there was no need to change bandages with Reeca. Good. Good. She still remembered. She stared down at how the flesh and bones around Reeca's back were now healed. Only the deterioration was the one they needed to worry about. Xanthy glanced at the jar in her hand. Well, that's what this was for.

Reeca's wings were still limp as Xanthy smeared ointment against them. It's a good thing Nyxis had removed the parasites else Xanthy was not touching them. The wings felt like fabric under her fingertips.

"Did you get what you came here for?" Xanthy asked after a long time of wanting to. Gods, it suddenly felt light against her shoulders.

Reeca shrugged. "Not the way I wanted it to," she scoffed before taking a deep breath. "I learned what finally happened to my mother."

"The Queen of Narfalk?" Xanthy leaned to the right to see Reeca give her a sideways glance. "Why didn't you tell us that you're royalty?"

"What's the point?" Reeca shook her head and clenched her jaw. "It was a long time ago."

Nobody said anything as Xanthy smeared more ointment on Reeca's wings. "What happened to your mother?" Xanthy asked again.

A sigh heavier than Xanthy had ever heard coming from the varichria resounded around the room. Reeca then told Xanthy what happened on that fateful day in the Tower and how Reeca and her brother Rhys had been banished from Narfalk by their own father.

By the time the varichria had finished, Xanthy had forgotten that she had a job to do with Reeca's wings. She flinched as she lapsed back into it. Oops.

Still, it was quite unfair for Reeca. It wasn't even her fault.

Reeca suddenly snorted. "You know what's funny?" She drove her short hair off her forehead when Xanthy didn't answer. "All these years I kept blaming myself for my mother's death. It was almost a dream when I found out that I had nothing to do with it."

"Why is that?" Xanthy started tying back the bandage after she screwed the lid of the ointment jar shut. Ugh. Let the wind take that infernal smell out the window.

"She didn't jump in that mirror to protect me," Reeca turned to Xanthy. Sadness and something else shone in Reeca's mismatched eyes. "She was protecting something else."

Xanthy stored the jar back into her satchel. Her fingers brushed the small pouch containing the vials of presora glass. Should she bring those with her on her way out of the Temple? Nah.

"Yeah? What was she protecting?" Xanthy gripped her quiver and stretched the buckle that's going around her hips.

"The Virtakios."

Xanthy's fingers paused in buckling the quiver. She whirled to Reeca. "What?"

Reeca's smile was sad. "My mother is involved in your soul split," she glanced at the door as if Ravalee could burst into it at any second. "She got tracked by Cardovia. They cornered her and...you know what happened next."

Xanthy's stomach churned. The Virtakios. If only this didn't exist...

"I don't blame you, though," Reeca's voice made Xanthy's head snap up. The varichria got up and strode to Xanthy before crouching again close to her. Reeca opened a palm in Xanthy's direction. "Do you still have the cloaker?"

Xanthy nodded mutely and dug the pebble out. Slung with the cord of the pebble was the butterfly pendant that she had burned through when she was in the Commons with Civil Guards on her tail. Gods, that seemed long ago.

Reeca whistled as she wagged her fingers, urging Xanthy to hand the cloaker over. Xanthy slung the necklace off her neck and passed it to Reeca. "My mother made her choice that day," Reeca said, flexing her fingers around the pendant. Xanthy blinked at the blue light that bled off the varichria's fingers. Weaving never ceased to amaze Xanthy. "I'm making mine now."

Xanthy swallowed as Reeca snuffed out her weaving energy and presented Xanthy the cloaker, minus the flimsy pebble. "My choice is to tell you that it's not your fault everything happened," Reeca smiled—a thing she rarely did. "Don't blame yourself for what happened and I shouldn't, either."

Xanthy pursed her lips and closed her fingers around the cloaker. "Cardovia and Synkteros are at fault," she told Reeca as much as she told it to herself.

Reeca nodded then jerked her head towards the cloaker. "I reprogrammed the mechanism of the cloaker to hide your sparkly trail better," the varichria said. "Useful when infiltrating a camp, right? The plan's my idea, after all."

Xanthy chuckled, covering her mouth with her hand. She forgot she had just touched the smelly ointment and she got a full whiff of it causing her to gag. Reeca laughed with her for a few minutes after that.

"Reeca?" Xanthy said as soon as they calmed down. "Have I thanked you enough?"

Reeca inclined her head with a snort. "What kind of question is that?"

Xanthy shrugged, eyeing the outside world where the sun had begun to set. She'd leave soon. "I just...you've been helping me so much and I haven't been doing anything to you," she met Reeca's mismatched eyes. How mesmerizing they were. "So, thank you."

Reeca nodded. "It's forever my pleasure, Xanthy," she smiled yet again. "It's what friends do."

Xanthy raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so we're friends now?"

"Did I say that?" Reeca shook her head.

They broke into a fit of giggles yet again. Xanthy wiped at the tears that sprung into her eyes with the back of her hand. She hadn't laughed like this in all her years. "Well, I should be off," she looked back at her satchel again. The presora vials gleamed against the room's dim light.

Ah, whatever. Xanthy snatched the pouch, picked three random vials, and stashed them at the side of her boots. Best be prepared for everything, right?

"Take care on the battle tomorrow," Xanthy nodded at the varichria with a tight smile. "Don't give me or Nyxis more headaches with your wings."

Reeca grinned. "Get out," she snapped but didn't quite translate with the amusement in her voice. Xanthy chuckled before striding towards the door, bow slung once more across her torso.

The door to their room clicked shut. Where was Cyrdel and Ravalee? Xanthy tore through the corridor in search of her friends. They need to plan how they're going to go to the enemy camp.

She found them by the First of the Upper's veranda, where Ezril first met them. They both leaned against the balustrades, the wind shuffling their hair in all directions. Ravale was signing something to Cyrdel to which Cyrdel signed back in reply. Xanthy's stomach turned. It felt like she was an intruder. Even more so when Cyrdel leaned in and planted a kiss on Ravalee's lips.

Blood rushed to her face as she stepped back. Okay. That's a private moment. Xanthy turned and clenched her fists. She couldn't deny the growing flutters in her gut whenever June was nearby. She had to give him an answer sooner or later.

Take the path even if you don't know what's the end.

Xanthy stared at the darkening sky beyond the Temple. So that's the answer? Plunge blindly and hope for the better? As much as it sounded like graspel breath to Xanthy, it's the truth in loving someone. One couldn't just plan it. It happens in an instant and nobody knows what the outcome will be. It's a game of chances and luck. It didn't mean that Xanthy liked any of it.

What would her answer be, then?

"Xanthiene?" Ezril's voice was a welcome distraction to Xanthy's thoughts. She turned to the High Priestess striding closer. Pidmena's statue seemed to winked at Xanthy from the goddess' place by the alter. Was that a good thing? Probably not.

Ezril came up beside her. "Can I talk to you?"

Xanthy nodded with uncertainty. "Yeah. What is it?"

"I would like to request a different kind of help," Ezril drew her hand from being tucked in her sleeves.

Xanthy knitted her eyebrows. "Let's hear it."

Ezril regarded Xanthy with yellow irises that seemed to intensify underneath the moons' rays."Please save my daughter."

Xanthy blinked. "Why me?"

"Cardovia's clutches are too strong," Ezril sighed. "She needs someone stronger to save her from the Heiress's grip."

"You think I can do it?" Xanthy crossed her arms. Had the High Priestess looked that pale? Whoa. "I haven't even mastered the Virtakios yet. I don't even know what the Virtakios is. Do you even know why she joined in the first place?"

"I do," Ezril's expression was grim and sad. "I just need to finish this war and then her wish can finally come true. So please, while the Heiress hasn't claimed Kymalin's head yet, save her."

Xanthy's throat dried up and when she spoke, her voice came out hoarse. "I-I'll try."

Xanthy pursed her lips. That didn't mean she has to succeed, right? Ezril might be asking of her a simple thing but Xanthy has an inkling that this would be bigger than all of them. Everything already was.

Ezril nodded with a certain finality. "Get ready," she turned and began walking the way she came from. "Reksha Perrien will send you off."

Xanthy watched the High Priestess vanish with a flash of light using a soul port.