"Here we are again, huh?" Xanthy leaned against the wall, watching Reeca shove her things inside a borrowed satchel. She had dropped by to pass Reeca the ointment for her wings. "I'm doing my own thing. You're off to somewhere," Xanthy rolled her fingers in the air.

Reeca shrugged, stuffing a rolled tunic into the satchel. "I'm not obligated to stay with you," she frowned. Then, she smiled and flicked her gaze towards Xanthy. "But I'll miss you."

Xanthy coughed. What? "You'll miss me?" she massaged her throat against the pain of choking on her own saliva. "Who are you and what did you do to Reeca?"

The varichria raised an eyebrow. "Did that come as much as a surprise?"

"I never thought something along the lines of 'I miss you' would ever spout from you," Xanthy pursed her lips before cocking her head to one side. "It's...new."

Reeca chuckled and shouldered her satchel. The varichria had been laughing a lot these days. "Well, get used to it," she strode towards the door where Xanthy was standing beside. "We're friends after all."

Xanthy blinked. "You're making friends now?" she edged off the wall to face the varichria completely.

Reeca's cheeks reddened. Was she actually blushing? Was Xanthy missing something? "I'm learning," the varichria nodded before inclining her head in Xanthy's direction. "Don't you want me to?"

Xanthy stretched her palms forward, shaking her head. "No, no. I do want to be friends with you," she smiled. Things are kind of looking up now.

Reeca nodded, shifting her weight from foot to foot. "Do we swear on it? Do we shake hands or...?"

Xanthy threw her arms around Reeca. The varichria flinched, making Xanthy chuckle. Xanthy kept her hands on Reeca's shoulder when they broke apart even though she had to stand on her toes to do so. Queen's breeches, Reeca was tall. "Get used to a lot of hugs," Xanthy grinned. "You dug your own grave."

Reeca reddened as she shrugged Xanthy's hands off her shoulders. Xanthy chuckled. They both have come far from the people they were before.

"Why the sudden change?" Xanthy asked as Reeca reached for the knob. "You weren't the type to make friends when we first met."

Reeca returned her arm to her side and turned to Xanthy. "Did you remember when I told you about the time I was in Asopus? The poachers?"

Xanthy nodded. Reeca sighed. "It wouldn't have ended up like that if you or at least someone was there. I can't rely on chance to always intervene. I need friends. I need allies."

A bitter taste made its way to the back of Xanthy's throat with the way Reeca said the word allies. It's like Reeca had let it slip deliberately. Xanthy knitted her eyebrows. Reeca was hinting at something...but what?

Reeca took a step forward before pausing. A curse rang from the varichria's mouth as she bent down and took something from her boots. Xanthy caught a flash of metal as Reeca threw a device into the satchel slung on her shoulder. What was that?

Xanthy's eyes widened when it hit her. The maximizer. Her stomach turned as Reeca yanked the door open. The squeal of the hinges turnined hadn't been as loud as the ringing in Xanthy's ears. Why would Reeca take it? Why would Cyrdel give it to her?

Xanthy shook her head. There's no need to think about that now. Reeca wasn't planning anything. "When will I see you again?" Xanthy stepped into the doorway as well, following the varichria out.

Reeca whirled back to Xanthy with a smirk. "I'm not your husband, Xanthy," she quipped.

Then, she began walking away. Xanthy watched Reeca until the varichria's bandaged wings were but an orange dot in the midst of the Temple's gray walls.

2412 Strilaxis 31, Jyda

Xanthy craned her neck up at the mural that depicted a fairy-eating boar, the woman with a sword, and the goddess of death depicted with a shroud of green wisps. The gruesome scenes of war and death, of trust and betrayal. Xanthy had stared up at these without blinking that she didn't notice it until June had dropped beside her into one of the altar's benches.

"What are you thinking about?" he imitated Xanthy's pose and stared up at the ceiling too.

"About how silly this mural is," Xanthy said absently.

June gave a light chuckle. "You've survived a full-blown onslaught, knocked heads with a thief working for Cardovia, saved the brownie shadows, and all you can think about is a mural?" he craned his neck down to stare at her. "You're really something."

Xanthy rolled her eyes as she flicked it in June's direction. "What am I supposed to think about? You?"

June propped his uninjured arm on the bench's back and shrugged. "Why not?"

"In your dreams," Xanthy snorted. She crossed her arms and leaned against the bench's wooden back which elicited a small creak. June was silent for a while.

Xanthy exhaled through her nose and turned to June who had rested his head against his hand and his elbow still propped on the bench's back. "You know, I'm not supposed to tell you this, but I met Marin."

June raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Did she come for a visit or something? When was this?"

"She's the thief," Xanthy averted her eyes and studied the hands she laid atop her thighs. They were clenched. She just told everyone a lie. How shameful.

"Really?" June's tone held no judgement that Xanthy had to look up and meet his eyes to confirm it. She was met with a warm and gentle gaze. No judgement at all.

"Yeah," Xanthy scratched at the side of her neck. "It seemed that she's aware of the Soul Spells' power and planned on using it to bring Jarvik back. Of course, I put a stop to it, but I still feel terrible," she sighed. "I didn't do anything right in that encounter."

Xanthy shook her head as if to dispel some of her thoughts. "I feel like I'm failing at something. Something incredibly big."

June still didn't move from his position. "How so?"

"I feel like I should be there for her, especially now in this trying time," Xanthy stared back at boar's eyes from the mural. "Something tells me that I must help her move on and grasp her way in this world, you know?"

A hand reached out and tucked Xanthy's hair behind her ear. Xanthy froze but June smiled at her as if that's the most natural thing to do. Her heart started pounding in her temples and roaring in her ears. Stop. Stop it.

"It's not about feeling, Xanthy," June was saying. Xanthy crossed her arms in an attempt to calm her thundering heartbeat. "It's about doing. You could sit here all day lamenting their fate and your inability to do something. You're not helping them and you're not helping yourself."

June inclined his head to look at the mural again without removing his elbow from the bench nor his head from his knuckles. "The best way to ease the pain is to do something about it."

"Have you tried it?" Xanthy followed his gaze. It's quite disappointing that they were staring at a single mural and seeing the same gruesome scene. "Did it work?"

June didn't pry his eyes off the ceiling. "I ran away from home after I discovered the truth about myself."

Xanthy swallowed against the anticipation that bubbled in her throat. This was the moment she's been waiting for and yet she felt like she wasn't ready nor would she like what she's going to hear. June sighed.

"Being a half-blood is not a walk through a park when you're surrounded by pure-bloods who think they are better than you," June crossed his legs. "When the word got out that I was a half-blood, you know what's bound to happen."

Xanthy nodded. People would scorn those who were not ordinary, those that stood out. People would be filled with disdain towards those who were different. It's the natural order of things. Fear, guilt, envy. There's always something in their hearts to drive them from accepting who someone truly was.

"So you turned your back and ran?" Xanthy knitted her eyebrows. "That hardly qualifies for doing something."

June shrugged. "But it freed me," his tone carried that hint of assurance like he was saying it more to himself than Xanthy. "I stayed away from the people who knew me, from those who could hurt me. I've lived freer than I ever had before since then."

"You don't plan on going back?" Xanthy glanced at June to find him staring at the hem of his cloak.

June scoffed uneasily. "Back to where?"

Xanthy watched him pick at the pieces of lint stuck in his tunic. "Back to your home, your family?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I don't have a family," he met her eyes. "Not anymore."

Xanthy's eyes widened. "I'm sorry," she shook her head. She didn't mean to bring forth a bad memory. "My condolences."

"No, no," June leaned forward and waved his hands at Xanthy. "They're not dead. It's a lot worse."

Xanthy knit her eyebrows. "What's worse than having a dead family?"

An inexplicable sadness crawled into June's expression, clouding his features. "Apathetic ones."

Xanthy's gut swirled. Her fists curled at her lap once more. She didn't know what to say except, "I'm sorry."

June's smile wasn't enough to chase the sadness from his eyes. "Wasn't your fault, though."

Xanthy reached forward and cupped his cheek with her hand. Both of them froze. Oh dear, what did she just do? Xanthy plowed on before things got awkward. "I don't need to be at fault to say I'm willing to share your pain," she said. What were these silly things coming from her mouth? "It's no one's fault we'd ended up with messed up fates. It's no one's fault that we met either. You can push me all you want, hide secrets to your heart's content, but I will never stop trying to reach out."

Xanthy raised her eyes to meet June's to find them already on her. "I will never stop being your friend. Don't ever forget that."

June drew away from her. She let her hand fall back to her lap. She stared at the mural again, deliberately avoiding skimming over the boar this time around. Silence was thick yet comfortable in the air between them. Xanthy blew a breath. So, doing something, huh? She wished it was as easy as thinking about it.

Or she could do something else now.

"I've been doing some thinking for the past few days," Xanthy said, dropping her head to look sideways at June. A lot. She had been doing a lot of thinking the past few days. "Quard and Lusa," she blurted.

June raised an eyebrow as Xanthy's blood slowly rose up to her cheeks. "What about it?" he asked.

"The Trials in Love is nothing but depressing," Xanthy scrunched her nose up thinking of all the minutes she stole reading the tome. "They both die without achieving their wishes. Why would you choose that as an analogy?"

June shoved his hand in his white hair. "I don't know," he chuckled with a shrug. "I just identified with Quard and his longing for Lusa. It's as simple as that."

Xanthy brought her eyes up to the mural again. "Time and circumstances kept us apart, but Lusa, my darling, always thy shall be in mine heart," she flicked her eyes in June's direction. "Quard said that."

"Destiny has made it that I cannot be home to be in your arms. Only the stars tell me of thy beauty and astounding charms," came June's reply. It was exactly as Xanthy remembered it from what she read.

A smile crept to her lips. They were indeed doing this. "To you, my love, I offer this song as a covenant. Between us, where has love ended up except by accident?"

"To Lusa, my darling muse of the South, fill my cup with the love you pour. Always, forever, I shall long for the blithe times spent yore," June recited almost as perfectly. Xanthy blinked and didn't speak with her tongue quite frozen. June continued. "Be my muse, be my hope, my love, my cheer. Wait for me, Lusa, for home, I am almost near."

Those were the last lines of the story. How Quard, almost with no chance of surviving the storm coming to his raft, sang his last song about the hope of seeing his beloved again. He talked of coming home. He never did.

"I didn't know you memorized lines in that infernal songbook," Xanthy said with a chuckle after a minute.

"You're no different," June chuckled before cocking his head to one side. "Who knew you'd actually quote Song Thirty-five?"

Xanthy shrugged. "They're the only lines that stuck."

Never mind that those lines were the ones that talked most about longing and loving. June closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the bench. Xanthy reached out and tugged at his sleeve. "Come with me."

Before he could ask a question, Xanthy stood up and paced towards the open courtyard beyond the altar room. She needed air as her lungs refused to work properly. Her heart still hammered in loud steps in her chest.

Xanthy pursed her lips. She spent nights planning what she would say. She's ready. She's prepared.

She's not.

They came to the balustrade faster than Xanthy would have liked. Should they go back to the altar room? What about the Temple's lower floors?

Stop stalling. Just...spit it out.

Xanthy laid a hand on the balustrade's gray rails and faced June. The wind ruffled his hair in just the right amount of being tousled. Meanwhile, Xanthy's hair probably looked like a cleret's nest. She blew a heavy breath. Here goes.

"I've thought about what you said that night," Xanthy started. A lot, actually. She thought about it a lot. June raised his eyebrows but remained silent. What was she going to say after that? Gods, she should have rehearsed.

"I-I'm...I still don't understand what you meant by that word," Xanthy tightened her grip on the balustrade. She didn't know what she's saying, much less had any control over her mouth. She cleared her throat. "What I mean is, like is a murky word. It got me thinking that maybe you liked the way I am? I don't—"

She shook her head. Her unblinking stare could have burned a hole on the balustrade. "All I'm saying is that I've thought about what you said. I think of it when you're busy with something, when you're beside me, when I was getting my face bashed in. I thought about it. I've struggled with my answer. It's complicated, you see."

June pushed himself off the balustrade and drew closer to Xanthy. "Xanthy, what are you saying?"

Xanthy fiddled with her fingers. "I've given it an answer," she nodded, as slowly as she could. There would be no turning back after this. "I'm giving you my answer."

She drew herself straighter. "I'm willing to give it a try. I don't know anything about how any of this is supposed to go, but for once, you've given me the courage to just jump in and hope for the best," she stared up at June's dark eyes. "You...you're the one who taught me that there's more to magic than just spells and pretty lights."

June's eyes searched hers. Those inky pools just stared at her. Searching. It was so easy to just let go and drown in them. Heat rushed to her cheeks even though she had not called her forth her magic. "I might have a thing for you too."

June blinked. "Say that again."

Xanthy licked her lips which were getting ridiculously dry. She closed her eyes and pushed the words out of her system. "I like you, June."

Simple as that. Xanthy opened her eyes just as a huge weight was yanked off her shoulders. Gods, that's liberating.

June blinked rapidly like he caught something in his eye. . He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. Is this a dream?" he breathed. Xanthy punched him on the arm. He yelped. "It's not a dream," his eyes widened as he turned back to her. "You mean it?"

Xanthy rolled her eyes, then she laughed. It's all so silly. "How many times must I say it?" she asked. "I like you."

He kissed her.

Just like that, his lips pressed against hers. Her mind blanked. Her hands developed minds of their own, snaking around June's neck. June's hand cupped her cheek, his warmth a reassuring flare in Xanthy's skin.

This was really happening. There was no going back.

They broke apart. June was smiling like a madman. Xanthy clutched the balustrade to prevent herself from falling over. It happened. She couldn't believe it. It fripping, damned-be-the-gods, happened.

June ended up embracing Xanthy with a gentleness that she hadn't felt elsewhere. Time slowed. Xanthy propped her head on June's shoulder, drowning in his warmth. She started counting.

One, two, three...