SIXTH BOOK OF THE CHRONICLES OF FANTASILIA SERIES
𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘵. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥. 𝘕𝘰𝘸, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴.
Xanthiene Vivenca has to find allies and legendary objects of po...
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Xanthy swerved aside. The column of flame singed the ends of her hair as it flapped along her motion. Since when did it grow that long? "Wait—" she gasped before rolling aside as another blast of white-hot flames sped towards her direction. Wasn't he tired by now? These spells must be taking a lot of his energy reserves.
An orange pillar crept into her periphery and she twirled just in time to avoid another spear of flame from running her over. She clicked her tongue. They didn't have time for this! She lashed out, called forth the Virtakios, and willed her attacker's synnavaim to constrict, to lock itself away. A body thumped solidly against the burnt clay tiles. The flames dissipated in a quiet hiss.
"What did you do?" a voice rasped. Xanthy looked down to a young man with dark skin and apricot hair slowly bracing himself up as if his limbs had turned to jelly. Well, considering that Xanthy swept his magic form under him, perhaps that's indeed how he felt.
Xanthy trudged towards the man and offered a hand. He took it and she helped him up. "I locked your synnavaim for a bit so you could stop trying to roast me," she stepped away from him as soon as he was standing on his own before crossing her arms. "I was hoping you and I could have a talk. We don't have much time left."
The young man's forehead creased. " 'We'?"
"Yes, yes. I didn't come alone," Xanthy waved her hand and looked at the wide stairs behind the young man. "Now, where is the fire sprite heir? Do you happen to know him?"
A smile tugged at the corner of the young man's mouth. "Well, you're fortunate," he laid a hand to his chest as he faced Xanthy fully. "I'm the fire sprite heir, Seravel."
Xanthy raised an eyebrow. Ah, so that's why he was considerably strong with his magic. He's the heir. "I see," she nodded before looking around them. "Have I come at an inappropriate time? I'm sorry about that."
"Yeah, you kind of did," Seravel scratched the back of his neck. "The city is burning, right? Not to mention I got a report over in the fire orbs system that there is a band of dangerous criminals loose in the city."
Xanthy bobbed her head. "That would be the black-clad men—"
"Criminals who happened to look like you," Seravel's eyes narrowed when Xanthy whirled to him.
"I'm sorry, what?" Xanthy gaped at the heir. That's when she noticed that he was barefoot; his soles brushed the clay tiles like it's made of carpet. Didn't all fire sprites know what shoes were?
"Reports have been going around the criminal watch lately," Seravel looked Xanthy up and down. "I'm certain you were in it."
Xanthy frowned. "You sure are calm with that fact."
"Well, what can I do?" Seravel shrugged. "I don't have any magic."
