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 15, Kindreth
The throne couldn't slice those cannons in time.
That's what Canelis thought as they gathered in the open space in the center quadrant. They watched the looming shadow of the airborne island in silence as it headed straight towards them.
The scouts had spotted the island at least a hundred fortweres away and it seemed to be moving at half a fortwere a minute. Which means, the last three days of inactivity was probably spent bringing the entire island upon Penleth.
The cannons have stopped firing, putting Canelis's mission to waste. However, such was the life of a soldier and a warrior. One could never predict the course of battle when one didn't know the strength of the enemy and how far they would go to remove all hindrances to their goals. In Penleth's case, not only weren't they aware, they were also largely mistaken.
Canelis tightened her grip on the sword slung against her waist. The Lifecatcher. She hasn't spilled blood with it yet and even though she spent years preparing herself for the inevitable event, she still dreaded it.
So much.
Her stomach roiled.
Such was the curse of the Lifecatcher's wielder, which also happened to be the Riogener or in Canelis's case, the Renagener. She had yet to procure the official title in an inauguration, but it was evident she was the one to succeed her father's place as Peltra's commanding officer. Which means, along with her father's title, she would be inheriting his fate.
The curse and fate. What more could Canelis reap from her heritage?
The Lifecatcher quivered under her touch, flooding her veins with the thrum of strength and magic no other throne could give without fail. Unlike the other thrones, the sword drew power from its previous masters, imbuing the present one with unimaginable resources built through centuries of use. It never dulls, never misses aim. It's a sword destined to parry every strike and always deliver the final blow to spill blood and, most of the time, life, as well.
To a greedy and uneducated fairy, possessing the throne would seem like a perfect gift given by the gods. But, as Canelis had learned in her endless hours of studies, the gods rarely gave things without consequences.
This sword, for instance, the moment it pronounced death upon its enemies, the soul would never depart to the Land of Wonders. Rather, they stayed with the sword. Which meant the bearer of the throne would have to carry the guilt and the weight of the souls they kill until they shatter into a thousand embers.
Canelis witnessed her father, having used the sword to pronounce execution to the defectors they caught, slowly descend into madness as the number of souls in his head compounded. Voices whispered, clouding his judgment. Canelis vaguely remembered her father claiming that the voices constantly tried to usurp his own control of his mind.
