Reeca closed her eyes. The memory of that night was vivid in her mind. It was during one of the times they ran out of food. They had to spend the rest of the night hungry until they could steal from the vendors again in the morning.

Reeca had curled up against Rhys, shivering against the raindrops on her skin. It had been raining for days. They holed up in a dark alley somewhere and Rhys managed to weave a roof above their heads. It wasn't enough to keep the water away.

Reeca might have been developing a high fever then and Rhys had begun to panic. She remembered how cold she felt and how weak her limbs were. Was it from the fever or the hunger? She didn't know. Life was harsh, back then.

Then, a figure loomed above them, wearing an elaborate robe with a hood that covered her face. She carried a strange lamp whose fire allured to Reeca. What's the harm for a little warmth? Reeca remembered thinking that to herself.

The figure bent down and set the lamp at her feet. Then, she proceeded to talk with Rhys.

Reeca had crawled closer to the flames. Her eyes traced its directions as it swayed with an imaginary wind as it burned and burned. It didn't seem to be consuming any oil or wax. Her hand had reached out and touched the glass pane. Then, she saw herself.

She was taller. Older. Some sort of battle raged around her. A sword swung and she parried it well. Then, an arrow hurtled from the sky and struck her straight at the back. Blood sprayed as she fell. Reeca gritted her teeth against the memory. She had remembered her scream and Rhys's voice trying to calm her down.

Little one, don't lose heart. You will not die. The figure's light, airy voice bled in Reeca's ears that night and to this day. It wasn't something she was bound to forget anytime soon.

Still, Reeca knew what she saw. It's the future. That's going to happen in the future. Of course, she didn't dare tell Rhys about it. Fear renewed its hunger on her stomach every time her thoughts slid back to it. Talking about the mysterious woman only brought it back, fresher than ever.

"...could be anyone," Rhys was saying. Nyxis was nodding along. "We still have no idea up to this day."

Nyxis tapped his chin in thought. "I see," he bobbed his head once more before inclining his head to Rhys's direction. "So now you are gallivanting around the island, trying to fulfill your prophecy of saving the island?"

Nyxis regarded Reeca after Rhys nodded. "Why did you not go back to Narfalk to search for your mother's secrets? I am sure she would have left traces there."

Rhys shook his head. "We are tracking her friends down," he glanced at Reeca to which she nodded. He already knew what their mother's friends were involved in after Reeca told him via the trailwhisperer. "We are sure they were in into some kind of a big conspiracy, wherever they are now."

Reeca clenched her hands on her lap. Phiaris, Marthiaq, Ezril, Jarvik, Anahel, Geradine, Kadra, Zeral, Eldan. They were looking for someone imprisoned somewhere.

Rhys licked his lips when he turned to Reeca. "That reminds me, what have you discovered during your time in Carleon?"

"I talked with Mother," Reeca sighed. The memory of Phiaris's spirit lunging for her still sent shivers at the back of her neck. "Ezril helped me summon her spirit. It did not go well. I learned nothing."

Reeca's eyes then widened before leaning closer to Rhys. "But I did learn something during the siege," she pursed her lips, trying to grapple with that fact in her memory. "I fought with Carleon's Crown Priestess, Kymalin Iaro, and she tried to sabotage the throne."

Rhys sucked an audible breath. Nyxis knitted his eyebrows from across Reeca. She pushed on. "Kymalin fired a spell and the throne exploded," she splayed her arms. "But then, nothing happened. The Banshees were still there."

Rhys scratched the back of his ear. "You mean the chair is destroyed and yet it did not affect the race," he braced his chin with a hand. "That is information, indeed. That can only mean that there is another throne, an original one. Perhaps it's stored in the vaults? A chair that is that precious would not be brought out all the time. We need to find out where the real chairs are."

"That is where you are wrong," Nyxis plucked a lint from his tunic before looking at them. "Colossally wrong."

Reeca narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?"

Nyxis twined his fingers atop the table as he leaned forward again. "Thrones are not chairs. Very far from it," he shook his head. "You are correct to assume that the reason why the Banshees stayed existing even when the chair exploded is simply because it is not the throne. But it was not because there is another chair in existence, it is because thrones are entirely different things."

Reeca's eyebrows met. "You mean like a symbol for power? A staff?"

Nyxis nodded. "Could be. Thrones are powerful objects whose significance is determined by the race it represents," he drummed his fingers on the table in a rhythmless pattern. "It can range to everyday objects, like spoons or mugs, but what makes a throne unique is that it unites the race through their synnavaimis. In short, the throne represents what a race is all about, what it upholds, and what it considers essential," Nyxis's eyes twinkled when he met Reeca's mismatched eyes. "In Carleon's case, what was it?"

A thing that describes what a race was all about? Reeca's gut swirled when an answer presented itself at the back of her head. She didn't like it. "The Soul Spells."

"There you have it!" Nyxis waved his arms as he let himself fall back against his stool once again. "You catch on quick."

"Wait," Reeca splayed her palms in Nyxis's direction. She narrowed her eyes. "How come you know of this?"

Nyxis's face darkened. "I told you, I am searching for my throne," he cocked his head to one side. "Or have you developed memory loss without my knowledge? Do you need a potion for that too?"

Reeca flashed back to that day in the Palace grounds in Cardina. I should be looking for my throne, he had said. Xanthy had looked at him in askance, representing Reeca's exact feelings at that time. You just gave it away, right? The Virtakios had asked. Nyxis had answered back then, I think I needed to find out where I truly belonged. Certainly not with humans, no.

It made sense only now. Reeca cursed. How come she didn't get any hint back then? She shook her head. "So what is it?" she gritted her teeth. "What happened to it?"

Nyxis crossed his legs. "It is a medallion bearing the Cardina crest, dating back from where the Humans first established their kingdom against the fairies," he cast a look at Reeca. "Uh, no offense."

"None taken," Reeca shrugged. "Continue."

Nyxis smoothed his trousers by his thigh as if that would fix anything. "It used to be on the Palace but disappeared when my father forcefully took the right to rule from—"

"Forcefully took what?" Reeca knitted her eyebrows.

"We are not royal by blood, no," Nyxis said this with such a straight face Reeca doubted he even knew what it implied. Reeca slumped back against her chair. Nyxis raised his eyebrow at Reeca's action. "My great great grandfather was Ceris Helgase, the legendary potioner and sailor. He never was a royal."

"So you are not an heir?" Rhys rested his head on his fist with his elbow propped against the table.

"By right of rule, I am," Nyxis brushed his sleeve with a hand. "But going back to the Human throne, by the time it was my father's turn to wield it, it disappeared."

"Disappeared?" Reeca cocked her head at one side. "How? It is not like you lacked guards or anything."

Nyxis's face darkened but he leaned forward again. "Exactly," he wagged a finger in Reeca's face. "That is what puzzles me. The day my father is supposed to ascend to the throne, when the generals went down to the treasury, it is simply not there."

Nyxis shrugged. "That is everything I know of," he said. "Now, I am fairly certain it is not in Cardina, nor in Alkara. It is not here in Helinfirth, either."

"You barely stepped foot inside Helinfirth," Rhys stared at the ceiling and at the planks as if that defined the whole of the Shard Fairy territory. "You cannot possibly sense it from here."

Nyxis exhaled with his nose. "I do not need to," he said. "I just know that it is not here."

"How could you be so sure?" Reeca narrowed her eyes.

"I guess it cannot for sure," Nyxis scratched his hair. "But Helinfirth has no standing army so it would be open for invasions and planned sieges. Shard fairies also hated humans so there is no reason for them to help humans hide their throne somewhere in the mountain. Lastly, there is no way humans and shard fairies could have interacted with one another apart from trade."

Silence coated the air as they all processed what they have recently learned. After a few minutes, Nyxis perked up. "So what now? I know I should check out the higher ground first before concluding that it is not in Helinfirth. I sense great magic up there."

Reeca rubbed her face. "We have to know where the rest of the thrones are," she crossed her arms. "If both Cardovia and Synketros are looking for it, it is safe to assume they know the truth about those. We need to get to them before anyone can."

"And do what?" Nyxis raised an eyebrow. "The thrones are not to be trifled with as they are objects with immense power," he shook his head like he couldn't believe Reeca was even entertaining the idea. "You cannot just go and 'gather' them. Some are even immovable."

Reeca twined her hands atop the table."What do you mean?"

"Dwanzeig's throne is a flower," Nyxis cocked his head like his answer explained everything. "Pluck that flower and the whole race dies with it," he sighed and rubbed the handle of his satchel. "Look, the monarchs know what they are doing in protecting the thrones."

"Narfalk's throne is not in our father's courts," Reeca tightened her fingers from being twined together. "You call that 'protecting'?"

"It is not my business to be honest," Nyxis didn't blink as he said this. "I just need to find the medallion and protect my people."

Rhys huffed loudly. "You should see the state Cardina is in right now. It is in shambles. The regions are in turmoil. The king is as incompetent as a ladle."

"Do not insult Tobin that way," Nyxis's voice dropped notches lower. Reeca's hand crept to the hilt of the dwarven knife sheathed at her belt. If this resorted into an all-out fight, who would she save from the other's wrath?

Then, as if nothing had happened, Nyxis relaxed. "Restoring the medallion to Cardina is the only way I can atone for my father's sins," he said. "Tobin experienced enough early in his life. I want to help him for the remainder of it, starting by fortifying his rule. He can have the throne that is rightfully his. That is my plan."

He faced Reeca. "How about you?"

Reeca opened her mouth to speak. "She is going with me to investigate the Ice Sprites," Rhys answered.

Reeca whirled to her brother. "I thought that was supposed to be you? I have other things to do."

Rhys's eyes were trained on her damaged wing. "What other things? Getting hurt? Dying?" His tone resembled a growl that made Reeca shrink from her seat. How long had he known? Rhys sighed and shook his head. "Not on my watch, Reeca. You are coming with me."

"I am not a child, Rhys," Reeca fought against the lump building up in her throat. "I do not need to be cared for."

Rhys's glare hardered. "I think otherwise."

Before Reeca could reply, the door burst open and a shard fairy shuffled inside. Heads turned and everyone watched a pale-haired fairy hurry past tables and chairs, head swiveling here and there, looking for something. Or someone. Then, scarlet eyes met Reeca's from across the room.

Reeca pursed her lips as Elred Valkalin, the heir to the Helinfrith throne, approached their table with a desperate look in her once-immaculate face. "Help me," Elred's tone was desperate. "Only you can."