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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2412, Diori 11, Jyda
Reeca was about to sip her morning gallberry coffee when she heard a ruckus outside her tent. Ugh. Has someone stolen something again?
She set the flimsy cup down on a small stool which served as a table. She stood up and grabbed her sword thrown haphazardly against a pile of many more. It was no wonder Reeca took to the armory and had turned the space as her quarters when they were first planning residence. There was a strange calm that arose within Reeca when she was surrounded by sharp, metal things.
Today, though, her morning routine was interrupted by people who chose this unholy time of the morning to start a fight. Reeca threw the flap to her tent and strode outside. The early morning sunlight shone over her face, making her click her tongue. Soldiers dressed in casual tunics, trousers, and boots passed her by. Some barely looked her in the eye while others dipped their heads in a quick salutation. She didn't care about them either way.
Reeca trudged towards the ration area where they arranged food to give to the people. That seemed to be where the shouts were coming from. She passed the stables where they keep the riding animals they managed to tame thanks to a few crafty nature fairies around. Paulsaris brayed while their trainers muttered shushing sounds and words of comfort.
Paulsareis were friendly creatures and Reeca assumed that until now, they're still asking around for their brothers who rode out three days ago. Canelis told her they had to leave the animals by the enemy camp in Rabante as a passing remark rather than a complete report. Reeca had only nodded and the pixie had gone as silently as she came.
Reeca wished she had time to feel sorry for the animals who were probably alone in the wilderness between Penleth and Rabante but she had other pressing matters to attend to. Like that quarrel over there.
The ration area came to view and there were a few soldiers, both male and female, standing in a hazy circle. They were obviously in a heated argument about something, all passionate about their points. Arms waved around. Feet stomped. Voices raised. Alright. "That's enough," Reeca stepped inside the circle and raised her arms. "Return to your duties."
A man with an unremarkable face and a frame of blue hair growled. "Who's this kid?" he rasped. "Go home, lass. The grown-ups are talking."
Perhaps it's the early morning or the fact that she hadn't had her morning drink yet, but the off-hand comment sent her blood boiling. The other people present seemed to sense the change in her mood and began telling the unremarkable man to back off. He didn't.
Reeca eyed him. Tall, young, and probably a banshee. She forced herself to remain calm. Calm but full of steel. "What might you, grown-ups, be talking about so early in the morning?" she asked as innocently as she could which made her sound like she was choking on a strip of preserved meat. "Getting beat up by your wives? Vulkrainis, perhaps?"
"You think you're funny?" the man stepped forward.
Reeca hummed. "I think you're too old to understand what 'funny' means."
