2412 Iclis 11, Briss

Xanthy stared at the woman sitting across the table from her. How did Xanthy end up here? How did any of them end up here, for that matter?

A bubble of ire churned in Xanthy's throat but she tamped it down. Swallowed it, if she has to. From Peltra to Lanteglos, things had just gone from worse to worst. Not only did she learn that June was the illegitimate son of the High Queen, she had also seen him drive a dagger into his mother's heart because some prophecy said that he would.

Reeca had apparently tricked Xanthy by hooking the Virtakios into a cloaker and using that connection to do something. Exactly what, Xanthy wasn't interested to know. Let that varichria rot in the Land of Wonders, for all Xanthy cared. Her fingers clenched. She shouldn't have trusted that varichria.

Lanteglos was in lockdown. Edgerift was in a panic and a state of ruin. The Crown Princess, who has to fly from Falkirta, the floating city in the sky, has to hunt June down and kill him before being allowed to take the crown. Who invented these rules? Why couldn't just the Crown Princess take the throne and forget June even existed?

It's only a matter of time before the Crown Princess, or Cardovia, or Synketros, or any one else that would want to betray Xanthy caught up to their holing place here in Nanvera. Xanthy was no sitting fowl. She needed to do something. Anything.

Xanthy had been ready to leave to help June. To march to Synketros and Cardovia to tell them to piss off. She had been ready to figure it out on the way. Then this woman showed up and ruined everything, even Xanthy's resolve.

Xanthy leaned back against her chair which creaked under her weight. Her frown pulled deeper as she leaned over to inspect her chair's legs. She wasn't even that heavy, not when she's as thin as a board. Stupid chair. As her eyes traveled from the chair back to the woman sitting across her, her gaze swept past June's form.

He lay on a bed pulled from one of the rooms in this house. His eyes were closed; his hand resting on his stomach while the other was on the sheets pulled to his chest. His pale complexion was ashen. Lifeless.

Xanthy's heart twinged.

"He's resting," Nyxis had said to her when she asked how June was doing. Resting. As if what happened and what would be happening to June were hidden from anyone. It was like Nyxis was rubbing the news she couldn't just accept in her face .

The human's words from earlier still rang in her head. He will get there! When she asked where, all Nyxis told her was—death. Like a phantom looming above her, the word echoed over and over in her head. Death, death, death. The drawback was incurable. It's June's doom.

It's only a matter of time.

Xanthy bit back a curse. Well, damn time.

Tears pricked at the edge of her eyes but she blinked it furiously. She wouldn't cry or get angry any more than she already did. It's time to move. Right before this hooded woman came, Xanthy was more than ready to scour the whole island for an answer to prove Nyxis wrong. Drawbacks could be reversed. They could be healed.

Xanthy met Nyxis's eyes from his spot beside her. He had been keeping an eye on her more than necessary like he was scared she'd leap out and burst out the door at any moment. Well, that wasn't far out should this woman prove to be a waste of Xanthy's time.

How did Nyxis get them out of Edgerift and into this house, anyway? Xanthy's last memory of them escaping was her chest contracting as Reeca's cloaker intruded on the Virtakios. Up until now, Xanthy could barely get her magic to work properly.

Xanthy found herself staring right back at him. She had no idea how Nyxis got them out of Edgerift and into this house. Her last memory of the escape was her chest contracting, due to that thing Reeca did.

How did they even manage to get under the Imperial City's detection for so long?

Xanthy shook her head and leveled her gaze at the hooded woman. How did she find them here in Nanvera if even the Imperial City couldn't?

The lamp the woman had brought with her now rested atop the table an arm-length from Xanthy. It was a strange thing with six, glass-plated faces with dark metal rails around it. Greenish flames sparked with pale intensity, almost like it was inviting Xanthy to follow its movements.

"You don't want to get stuck in the future," the woman's stern but gentle voice struck hard against Xanthy's thoughts. "Stop staring at it."

Xanthy blinked. "What?" she raised her head to meet the woman's eyes. When had she even ducked her head? "I wasn't staring."

The woman only chuckled. Xanthy rubbed her arm. This was taking too long. "You want to talk?" she said. Her tone came out clipped and edgy. "Then talk."

"Uh, if you do not mind," Nyxis raised a finger in the air. "Ylanenla?"

The woman turned to him. Even underneath the hood, Xanthy could tell the woman was studying him. No one spoke until the woman threw off her hood, revealing tan skin, bright red hair, and pointy ears. A fairy, then. "I prefer to speak to just Xanthy," the woman said with an accent that could pass off as a native from Cardina. From beside Xanthy, Nyxis blinked. "The prophecies are not meant for anyone except her."

Xanthy's mouth soured. Prophecies, again? The last time she heard of a prophecy, June had ended up lying on a borrowed bed under a borrowed roof. Dying. Her fingers atop the table clenched into fists. She was reminded yet again of what was bound to happen when thinking one could change their destiny. June tried to run and avoid his. Look where it got him. How could he talk of fate being fake when he has his own to deal with?

She felt a light hand on her shoulder as Nyxis reached over and pulled himself up. "Call me if you need me," he said in a soft but flat tone. Xanthy nodded and Nyxis gave her shoulder a light squeeze before walking away.

Xanthy watched him trudge towards a table pushed against a wall beside June's bed. Nyxis grabbed a knife and started chopping and peeling colorful fruits that Xanthy hadn't seen before like he'd been doing it all his life.

Xanthy blew a breath and pinched her arm. She faced the hooded woman. "What do you have for me?"

The woman turned to Xanthy. Her earrings made from dangling blue stones caught the midday light from the window in pale glints. "Anything you want to know," she spread her arms, her long sleeved tunic finally catching Xanthy's eye.

What in the world was this woman wearing underneath that dark cloak? It was like a cross between a dress and a knee-length tunic complete with a vest hugging the woman's curves tightly and a limp skirt that hid her dark, ankle-high boots. Xanthy pursed her lips.

Anything, huh?

Of all the questions swirling in her head, which one would succeed in fighting for it way out of her mouth? Xanthy gripped the table's edge, the rough splinters digging into her palms. This was a chance to get the answers she needed. What would she ask?

Xanthy glanced at the only bed in this room and faced the woman once more. "How can I heal a drawback?"

The woman clicked her tongue. "That path is a dangerous one to take," her piercing aquamarine eyes dug into Xanthy's whole being. "Even for you."

Hope bubbled in Xanthy's throat. "So there is a way," she narrowed her eyes.

"A costly way," the woman nodded and crossed her legs. Her chair's creak bounced across the room as she twined her fingers against her knee. "But a way, nonetheless. You will have trouble paying the price expected for it."

None of that mattered. There was a way and Xanthy had to take it. She leaned forward, bracing her arms against the table. "Tell me."

The woman sighed. "The water sprites' throne," she waved her hand in the air before setting it back on her knee. "It's what you're after."

Xanthy raised her eyebrows. "A throne? Shouldn't the water sprites have it with them? That doesn't sound too dangerous."

The woman shook her head. "You don't understand," she retorted, tapping her fingers against the table. "The truth to the Soulcleanser's whereabouts and how to get it is not something anyone could survive."

Xanthy frowned. "Who are you?" she crossed her arms before splaying her fingers in the woman's direction. "How come you know all of this?"

"I'm Rutoria of the Cotteler family," the woman smiled but when Xanthy looked hard enough, she saw a familiar streak of sadness flash in the woman's eyes. "I know all of this because I'm an oracle fairy."

Xanthy knitted her eyebrows. "Oracle fairy?" she scratched the side of her face. "This is the first time I heard of your race. Where is your territory?"

The sadness in Rutoria's eyes crept to her whole face. "It doesn't exist," she shook her head. "Along with the rest of my race," she stroked the lamp's window with a hand before meeting Xanthy's eyes again. "But that is a story for another time. Like you know, we are short on time and I have some other places to be and some people...to watch out for."

"Okay," Xanthy nodded. "Where can I find the throne?"

Rutoria inclined her head, her red hair spilling in a bright red waterfall at the side of her head. "Are you really going after it?"

Xanthy bobbed her head. "Yeah," she reached up and twisted a lock of hair around her finger. "Yeah, I will."

"Are you sure?" Rutoria asked again. Xanthy frowned. What's her deal? Xanthy has decided and if this woman had the volition to help her, might as well! "The future depends upon your choice," Rutoria said with a voice that was almost a whisper.

Xanthy froze. Was that what oracle fairies do? Read the future and tell it to people concerning it? Was Rutoria after the Virtakios, too? Xanthy's stomach turned. The knowledge that her choices would affect someone's future burned an irreversible trail in her conscience. She glanced at Nyxis who was now humming as he poured a pinkish solution through a sieve propped against a bowl.

Xanthy turned back to Rutoria whose gaze didn't stray from Xanthy's face, not even once. "Will it be better or worse if I save one soul?" she flicked her gaze towards June's still form. His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths. For how long, though? It was a mystery Xanthy didn't want to uncover.

Rutoria followed Xanthy's gaze. "For you or for the world?" she asked as she tucked her own hair behind a pointy ear. "You have to choose first."

Xanthy drummed her fingers on the table in the tune of her thoughts raging. Why must the Virtakios worry about the world more than any of them did? Xanthy's teeth bore down her jaw. Why must she bear the weight others would not carry?

Why did the world even need a savior? And out of all the people who were out there, why her?

Xanthy regarded the oracle as the final question bled out of her mouth. "Why do I need to choose?"

"The past is easy to tell since it's only a memory. But the future," Rutoria paused before glancing at her lamp now flickering against the midday sunlight streaming from the window. "The future isn't as final as the past was. It's tricky, murky, and dangerous. Seeing the future is an easy feat but telling it and guiding others to it," Rutoria met Xanthy's eyes once more. "Is not."

Xanthy crossed her arms. "Your point is?"

Rutoria folded her hands atop the table. Her nails scratched against the splinters in the process. "The future that will hold the most profit or the most pleasing outcome will differ largely on who benefits it the most. That is why you need to choose. Would the answer you're seeking be beneficial for the world or for you?"

"Why do you exist then?" Xanthy scoffed and shoved her fingers into her hair with enough frustration to tousle it into a matted mess.

Rutoria pursed her lips.

Xanthy's eyes widened when another round of sadness flickered through the oracle's eyes. "Sorry," she massaged her forehead. "That wasn't meant to come out."

"No matter," Rutoria waved her hand with a nod. "You are correct in some aspects. The world didn't need an army of soothsayers telling every empire what to do," she closed her eyes and blew a heavy breath. "We are beings of incredible power. We can turn the tide of war with just our words. We can end dynasties, build empires, and tear down minds as we see fit."

Rutoria opened her eyes and jerked her chin in Xanthy's direction. "The world doesn't need creatures like us," she shook her head. "But why am I here? Why did we have to exist?"

Xanthy averted her eyes and rubbed her thumb against the back of her hand.

"Because we know which choices, which outcome will make the world or destroy it," Rutoria jabbed a light finger against the table. "We know which act will save us and let us live, and which deed will bring us to our ruin. We know how worlds end and it has been our duty to prevent it."

Xanthy knitted her eyebrows. "So is the world ending now that you're here?"

Rutoria clenched her jaw. "Not if we step in and guide people away from that path," she said. "Not if the people we guide will listen."

Xanthy bit her lip. She didn't like where this was going. "The world didn't listen to us once," Rutoria sighed. Her eyes almost reflected the burning ember in her lamp in its intensity as she gazed into the empty air. "It ended up in my race's slaughter and the world in shambles. I swore I will not make the mistake my kin did. They failed to fight," Rutoria met Xanthy's eyes, blue against brown. "I will not."

"Ah, about that," Xanthy let out a nervous laugh under Rutoria's burning gaze. "What happens if I go after the throne?"

Rutoria rested her hand on the roof of her lamp and ran her thumb against its smooth, dark surface. "It won't be an easy path. You will face disaster upon disaster. It will ultimately end in war," she flicked her gaze towards June's bed. "But you will have saved the one thing precious to you."

Xanthy dug her nails on the table's surface. Don't look at June. Just...don't. "And if I choose to not go after it?" she asked against the thickening tongue inside her mouth.

Rutoria leaned over and brought her face closer to the lamp. The greenish flames gave her tanned skin an olive sheen. "You will lose him," she said. "You will find allies in unusual places, those who betrayed you will beg for your mercy..." The oracle inhaled sharply. "The war will still happen but you will be there to turn the tide."

"That's dagrine crap right there. What happened to the 'your-choice-will-affect-the-world' thing if me going after the chalice or not will still end up in war?" Xanthy hooked her two fingers in the air and rolled her eyes with a scoff.

Rutoria raised an eyebrow while stroking the lamp's glass pane. "You determine who will live and who will not. Your presence is required in the battles to follow."

Xanthy slumped back into her chair and blew a hard breath. "What happens in the war if I ever go after the throne?"

Rutoria leaned towards the lamp again and closed her eyes. "It's war," she whispered like she's inside a dream. Her eyeballs moved against her closed lids like they were seeing a thousand things at once. "These circumstances are the hardest to read. So many intersecting pathways, so many choices made in a short span of time," Rutoria opened her eyes and shook her head. "It's...impossible for me to read immediately. I'll need days, no, weeks, to even pinpoint which one of you will not have a future."

Xanthy buried her head in her hands. She ran her fingers in circles around her temples, trying to ease the pulsing pain that arose with the things she learned. It's obvious what choice she should make, but why was this so hard? She didn't want to see any more souls go and it seemed that whichever path she chose, she was bound to lose someone.

War. A bitter taste covered Xanthy's mouth. Would it be better if she was there? What difference would a girl like her make? It's not like she could crush armies with just a thought. Without her...

What is one soul compared to the whole world you have to save? Nyxis's words flared at her mind like a bushfire. It was unfair. Why couldn't she get to keep one thing that she values the most for the sake of the world?

World, world, world. This damned world got in her way every time. Fate got in her way every time.

"Xanthy?" Rutoria's voice speared through Xanthy's thoughts.

Xanthy raised her head and squinted at the oracle. "How do you know my name?" her tone could have sliced a fruit in two.

"I have my ways," Rutoria shrugged. A sly smile played on her lips. Xanthy knitted her eyebrows. Both of them knew that that answer didn't explain anything.

Then, the oracle's expression and tone softened. "You're wondering why the world chose you out of all people to be the Virtakios," she translated Xanthy's thoughts like she had lifted them out of Xanthy's mind, itself. "Go to Dwanzeig and you will learn the reason why."

"Why can't you tell me if you're so high and mighty with your tricks?" Xanthy rubbed her arms as she hugged herself.

"It's not my place to reveal it," Rutoria shook her head and sighed.

Xanthy matched the oracle's action. "So, I doom someone whatever I choose."

"Death is the counterpart of Life," Rutoria rolled her shoulders before picking at the hem of her sleeves. "Don't forget that."

The silence that came after was not at all thick but it enveloped them like the doom the oracle had promised. Xanthy chewed on her lip. After a while, she leaned forward. "Alright," she inclined her head at the oracle. "How do I find it? How do I use it?"

Rutoria's expression was flat, not giving any hint of consternation flashing across her tanned features. "So you choose the throne?"

Xanthy's stomach roiled but she forced herself to cough out—"Yes, I choose the throne."

The oracle traced lazy circles on the table's surface. "The chalice goes by many names," she drew her third circle. "Soulcleanser, Desara's Blossom, and the Abject Throne. Any guesses how it came to be called that way?"

Xanthy tapped her chin. "Let me guess, soulcleanser because it cleanses the soul, Desara's Blossom because it's from Desara, and the abject throne because it's forgotten?"

"Close, but still so far," Rutoria chuckled. "Desara's throne takes the form of a chalice, which bears the Water of Life. It's called soulcleanser because it can heal any sickness," a brief glance towards June. "Including drawbacks.'

Xanthy rubbed the dried skin on her lips. "It's called Desara's Blossom not only because it's from Desara," Rutoria continued. "But because it is said to have grown out of the sands of the city, a long, long time ago," she leaned closer, as if sharing a secret between her and Xanthy. "And the abject throne because it's hidden," she whispered with a wink. "Permanently."

"Sucks," Xanthy blew a strand of hair off her face. "Where is it hidden?"

Rutoria twisted a lock of hair with her finger so much like Xanthy does. "I don't have that knowledge as of the moment," she splayed her fingers in the air, checking her nails for something. "All I know is that the start of the puzzle is supposed to be in Dwanzeig."

"Dwanzeig, again?" Xanthy waved her arms in the air before dropping them to brace her thigh. "Why is the chalice hidden in the first place?"

Rutoria's eyes flashed. "It's a rather convenient escape, isn't it?" she inclined her head at Xanthy. "Imagine, having the chalice in your hands. You can do whatever you want, kill whomever you wish, and still emerge complete and healed because you own healing itself."

"The world will crumble from under our feet with the chalice's tendency to start wars," Rutoria glanced at the ceiling like the answer to the world's problem was printed there. "Fairies have a knack of being greedy once they learn what's possible."

Xanthy frowned. Was that implying something? "Fine," she crossed her arms. "Let's say I go to Dwanzeig. What should I look for? That territory is huge."

Rutoria uncrossed her legs and ran her hands across the table like she was smoothing something out across it. "You'll find it when you get there. I will send someone to help you."

"I'm sorry," she shook her head and waved her arms at the oracle as if that would stop Rutoria there. She gave a disbelieving laugh. "You can't just partner me with anyone like that."

Rutoria's white teeth flashed through a cheeky grin plastered on her face. "Oh, but I can," she winked. "He needs your help as much as you need his."

Xanthy narrowed her eyes. "So it's a guy."

Rutoria laughed—a real, throaty sound that sounded foreign to Xanthy's ears after everything that happened. "Yes," she waved a hand in a dismissive gesture. "Don't worry, you'll really like his company."

"You know," Xanthy groaned and massaged her forehead with her fingers. "I think I can do this on my own. I don't need the help of some guy."

Rutoria leaned in again. "You have no idea how useful he's going to be if you manage to get him to your side."

"Whoa!" Xanthy threw her hands up. Nyxis glanced up from his work of transferring his potion into an array of vials. "Last I checked, there's supposed to be no sides!"

Rutoria raised an eyebrow like Xanthy just said the most ridiculous thing ever. "No sides? You're in a war."

"War..." Xanthy's shoulders slumped.

The oracle's hands went back to the lamp's roof. "War will come whether you like it or not," she eyed the green flames dancing inside the glass panes. "The intertwining destinies simply calls for it."

Xanthy opened her mouth when Rutoria snapped her fingers. "Oh!" the oracle exclaimed as she jumped like she was suddenly jolted. "I almost forgot to say."

"What?" Xanthy knitted her eyebrows.

"The price," Rutoria scratched her chin. "Using the chalice requires it."

"I'm willing," Xanthy blurted through the growing lump in her throat. "What will it be?"

Rutoria grimaced. "You sound so ready," she muttered under her breath. "The price for using the chalice is treasure for healing, sanity for clarity," The oracle locked eyes with Xanthy. "A soul for a soul."

See, that wasn't so bad. Xanthy chewed on her lip as she stroked her chin. An idea was already forming in her twisted brain. Yes, choosing the chalice was the only way she could get another thing she wanted.

It's like hitting two witches with one spell.

She returned the oracle's gaze and nodded. "Thank you for your help."

Rutoria returned the gesture before standing up. A finger hooked the lamp off the table in one smooth motion. The next thing Xanthy knew, she was holding the door open as Rutoria stepped through it.

Before the oracle could move forward, Xanthy cleared her throat. "Did I choose right?"

Rutoria paused before turning back to Xanthy with a sad smile. "I hope you think about a lot of things—about who you are and your feelings," she said in a tone that reminded Xanthy of the way Aunt Becky talked to Little Bertha at times. Rutoria shook her head. "The world doesn't always need right choices. Sometimes, all we need is the will to keep trying."

Xanthy bobbed her head. "I'll keep that in mind," she said. "Take care."

The oracle gave Xanthy a small wave before taking to the quiet streets of Nanvera. There was not a merchant or a fairy in sight as the oracle threw her hood back up and went west. A moment later, Rutoria was nothing but a dark dot in the flickering mirage brought about by the humid air. Xanthy inhaled the dusty and thick Lantegian breeze before stepping back inside the house and shutting the door behind her. She leaned against the door and heaved a sigh.

Nyxis had placed the last cork on the vials laid out on the table as Xanthy took her seat back on the table. She has made a choice, hasn't she? Would she be able to live this plan down?

She met Nyxis's questioning eyes. Would Nyxis accept it or would he betray her as well?