FIRST BOOK OF THE CHRONICLES OF FANTASILIA SERIES
𝘈𝘯 𝘢𝘨𝘦-𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘺. 𝘈 𝘵𝘺𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯. 𝘈 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘳.
Xanthiene Vivenca's life drones on in a cycle of finding her next meal, ensuring...
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Dust assaulted her nose more than the smell of corpses did. Xanthy rubbed her finger against her nose to avoid sneezing. Already, she was getting looks from the people milling about for clutching the bucket to her chest.
Middle-aged men lounged on upturned buckets, swigging smuggled fairy potions. Xanthy steered clear from them. Fairy potions reportedly taste like the sky but it could get Humans addicted. From Xanthy's experience with Jasteen, fairy potions could burn through Human stomachs.
Xanthy squared her shoulders and continued walking. Her worn boots stirred dust as sweat renewed their rampage. The wind blew hot torrents through Xanthy's neck and she lost count how many times she flattened her hair to the sides of her head.
Houses stood in rows and bunches just like Xanthy's recent home. She passed some in good condition that some families now used along with dilapidated ones too. Brown paint faded from the orange bricks and patches of dried leaves mingled with the air as it blew past them. These houses lined the streets and sometimes stood in the middle of it, too.
Over the years Xanthy has lived in the Disfavoreds, she realized that the abandoned city really had no concept of roads. What she was walking on were just one of the infinite trails Disfavoreds of the past carved for her.
Mothers dressed in thin tunics much like Xanthy's hurried past her, carrying their own means of earning versallis. Some were barefoot while some were lucky enough to have sandals with repaired straps. Young men around Xanthy's age joined the throng of people going about their daily lives. They were in the process of going into the forest and foraging there.
Xanthy clutched her bucket tighter. Some of those men would never return for the night. Whatever they encountered in that foggy forest would forever remain in Xanthy's imagination.
She walked further. The sky glistened, the blue blanket a reminder that whoever people think they were, all of them looked up at the same sky. Ipleex, with their blue and gold plumage shining in the sun, flew by in interesting formations as they passed overhead. They're no doubt heading to the Commons where their main source of food, the cleret, were most abundant.
How Xanthy wished she could fly away from here like those birds.
She exhaled and passed the alley where the old men liked to hang around. Wooden tables were pulled into the streets and topless old men Lebayou's age lounged around them. Xanthy struggled to keep her expression collected as she beheld their wrinkly and pockmarked skin, their unfocused pupils, and their graying hair. Some smiled at her, showing off their measly teeth. It took all of her to smile back without wincing.
Would Xanthy become like that when she grew old? Maybe. If she lived that long, that was.
She coughed into her fist as Aunt Becky's street edged into view. Shrill shrieks pierced her ears and she sidestepped in time as children whizzed past her. They were playing with a makeshift ball made from tangled ropes and spare cloths. A boy threw his arms up in the air and yammered like those at the official tournaments do. Xanthy smiled.
