2412, Iclis 12, Briss

Reeca crossed her arms, watching the birds dive into the sea for their daily sustenance. It's been two days since she got away from that hellhole of a prison in Rabante. The sheer coldness of her magic's absence still haunted her dreams. It was an experience she didn't want to feel again. Cyrdel's maximizer lay in metal shards in one of the spaces between her armor. What a waste.

Elred had her feet propped on the table with her hands clasped behind her head. Her long, pale blond hair swayed with the morning ocean breeze. Scarlet eyes stared at the waves lapping the line of sand with some sort of melancholy flickering in them.

They had spent the day before debating where they would go next. "We should merge with Xanthy and the others," Reeca had suggested. "We could tell them what we learned about the thrones' location."

Elred had raised an eyebrow. "Are you willing to tell Xanthy that you hijacked her magic?"

Reeca had averted her eyes and pursed her lips. She didn't bring that up again, not with shame and guilt gnawing in her stomach every time the thought crossed her mind. "What do you say we do from here?" she had asked the shard fairy.

Elred had grinned one of her knowing smiles and soon, Reeca was trudging through sand that ate her ankles every time she took a step. Zoriago wasn't in Reeca's top destination list for that exact reason.

Today, the sound of waves slapping the beach was faint in Reeca's ears considering Zoriago was miles away from the water. Moreover, the clatter of wooden plates and mugs clanking against the wooden tables were the main ensemble in this tavern. Reeca tapped her boots against the sandy soil. How in Umazure could the trees and shrubs populating Zoriago's forests grow here?

Reeca eyed the counter built from thin planks where a single water sprite stood behind, serving patrons with the same drink Reeca had on her table. Yet another water sprite sat on a stool at the east end of the counter, cursing as he drove a knife into a creature with closed shells. Reeca watched as the water sprite pried open the shell and plucked a fleshy organ inside before throwing it into a pile being formed inside a silver basin.

Reeca's stomach roiled.

It wasn't that she was disgusted. Far from it. Her nose wrinkled at the smell of sand and salt thick in the air. At least in Zoriago, which was considered the wealthiest city in Desara, the air didn't smell of rotting fish. Perhaps, that's the best thing Reeca could ask for considering Desara's present plight.

Reeca closed her fingers around the mug containing the drink made from fermented salvia water. The trees that provided such fruit towered over the tavern's patched leaves roof, with sweeping, orange and yellow blades swaying with the light, ocean breeze giving off thin, rustling sounds. She tilted the mug towards her, eyeing the clear, light fluid glinting against the morning sun.

Elred's mud-crusted soles were inches from the mug and Reeca rubbed her nose again. She wouldn't touch anything within a mile from them so she slid the mug a few inches away from her.

Judging from their flight from Rabante, Reeca had concluded that Desara has one of the most unkempt territory in the whole island. They had passed no temples and no packed trade routes. When they landed on the forest-infested border between Aresving and Zoriago, there were no patrolmen or even watchtowers parading around.

Now, Reeca studied the water sprites filtering in and out of the tavern with their dusty tunics and patched trousers. The water sprites were considered the weakest not just within the sprite territory but within Umazure itself. Reeca licked her chapping lips. It seemed like Desara wasn't willing to change that perception.

It didn't make sense, though. Desara could have been in control of the fishing industry considering they were the ones who could venture out into the sea to collect resources from the water. The other coastal territories either focused on irrigation or they prohibited their citizens to venture out due to the legends about the barriers' ability to drown people.

When Reeca flew over Orayta, she saw large fishing boats manned by able-bodied men littering the coast. The water sprites were capable of building an army and protecting themselves. Not to mention the crafts and innovations the water sprites were known for could easily get them a niche in the trade market in no time.

So why had they remained this low?

That's why Elred was keen to give Desara a visit. It was no secret that Synketros was holing up in Akaron since Elred had once been a high-ranking member. "The Sovereign has an inexplicable rapport with Akaraon," Elred had explained as they flew over Avalora yesterday. "They're not going to move any time soon."

Reeca had nodded back then. That only left Cardovia as the remaining piece in their hypothetical puzzle that remained elusive. With the organization's movements anonymous and layered, often having well-buried tracks, Cardovia was almost impossible to trace, let alone be pinpointed on a map.

"Why did we choose Desara first, Elred?" Reeca leaned against the flimsy table that creaked under her weight.

Elred turned her scarlet eyes towards Reeca. "How do you think Cardovia supplied its people?" she coughed into her fist and sniffed. She glared at the scratchy air. "They would need to get supplies for hundreds, if not, thousands of people and they need to do it under the trading radar. They would need a place that is unpopular, with an already weak trading system but with access to nature's bounty. Where do you think that would be?"

Reeca tapped her chin. Desara fit that description perfectly. Her mind ran through every history lesson she endured in Arcole. Desara had once been a haven of refugees due to its strategic, coastal location during the Hundred Years' War. There's no mention of Desara ever having an incline in their economy since then.

Cardovia appeared later on so that couldn't be the only reason Desara's struggling. Reeca opened her mouth to suggest that to Elred when the shard fairy sat straighter in her seat. Her boots swept off the table in one fluid motion. "I know where they are," Elred breathed. The glint in her eyes only burned brighter.

Reeca pursed her lips. Elred was surely resilient. Even after witnessing the destruction of her own territory, getting disowned by her family and thrown into prison, and being cast out of Synketros, Elred was still here. She didn't lose that spark in her eyes. Her resolve didn't waver not one bit.

Reeca's fingers clenched on her lap. If she's going to be the one who would lead the island to a better future, she should be like Elred. She shouldn't let morals get in the way of achieving goals. She cleared her throat and shook her head. Focus on the now. "Cardovia?" she inclined her head towards Elred who was now dusting the stolen trousers the shard fairy nabbed from an unsuspecting merchant caravan in Jehnasson. "Where? How did you figure it out?"

Elred clicked her tongue upon inspecting her nails. "They're here in Zoriago, I'm sure of it," she flicked particles of sand that snuck into her nail beds. "The Sovereign said that Cardovia likes to be in places where everyone least expects them to be."

Reeca mussed her hair. It's shorter than before, just in line with her eyes and trimmed at the sides and at the back of her neck. It had taken a dagger and glass shard to get it the way she wanted it to. "So where?" she rested a hand against the table's smooth surface.

A frown crept into Reeca's lips. It's always like this with Elred. Reeca had learned that the shard fairy needed to be stimulated into talking. Apparently, Reeca's job was to ask the questions. Annoying but, if they're to get somewhere, necessary.

Elred chewed on her lip, eyes trained somewhere beyond the tavern's border drawn by poles stuck in the sand. A stray breeze swept into the tavern, bringing with it sand particles from the beach. Reeca blinked as a few snuck past her lashes, inciting flashing pain and sharp tears. She rubbed her eyes free of those infernal particles, losing count of how many times she did that in the past hour.

A chuckle caught Reeca's attention back to the shard fairy. "They're either near the market or on the way to it," Elred cocked her head to one side. "Borders?"

Reeca swept a hand through her arm, dusting her skin for any sand that stuck into it. "Border? We have just been one between Aresving and Zoriago. Why do we need to go to another city?"

Elred rolled her shoulders. "You said so yourself," she scratched her chin. "There are lights in Desara and we need to check them out. Who knows what thrones they have already?"

Reeca's throat closed up. She glanced at the people dining with them in the tavern. A burly man dressed in furs in the middle of the Desaran humidity drank from a hollowed cup. A bright, burn scar shone at one side of his face.

A family of five water sprites sat to Reeca's east. Three children not older than five played with empty mugs while their parents with gaunt cheeks and doleful eyes shoveled white goop into their mouths periodically. Reeca's gut twinged. Shouldn't those children get a bowl of their own instead of sharing one?

A pair of brown-haired water sprites sat in at the far end of the tavern. They were talking in hushed tones about their upcoming bonding ceremony. Reeca held a snort in. This was war. One shouldn't even think of starting a family.

Reeca narrowed her eyes. None of them looked like Cardovic spies. She shook her head. One might never know. She leaned over to Elred and dropped her tone. "Maybe we should stop saying thrones or Cardovia out loud," she jabbed a finger against the table. "There might be unwanted ears around listening in."

Elred nodded, casting her own eye-sweep at the people around them. She leaned over to Reeca as well. "Agreed."

"So," Reeca blew a breath as she leaned away and slouched on her seat. She crossed her legs. "Where are we going?"

Elred's eyes sparkled with that mischievousness again. "We're going to find a rock."