THIRD BOOK OF THE CHRONICLES OF FANTASILIA SERIES
𝘈 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴. 𝘈 𝘥𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘺𝘯𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘺. 𝘈 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳. 𝘈 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴.
Two sides of the same coin are brought to the light...
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2412 Strilaxis 30, Jyda
Reeca swore loudly when she caught Nyxis checking his reflection on the dwarven knife for the third time. "You are going to shatter that with your face," Reeca's hand swept over the knife and soon, it was stashed with the rest of her weapons stuck to her belt.
Nyxis frowned. "Come on," he splayed his fingers and waved them at Reeca's face. "What are we even doing here? I am bored."
Reeca massaged her forehead with a sigh. "Find something else to do!" she hissed. "You would draw attention with this kind of knife especially when we are in Rabante. These people are blacksmiths. They would know and they would ask questions."
Reeca drew closer to Nyxis and jabbed a finger against the rough wooden table. "You do not want people asking questions," she narrowed her eyes before glancing at the slew of drunk shard fairies drinking the afternoon away. Why did she even agree to meet Rhys here?
Nyxis scratched his head, drawing Reeca's attention back to him. "Earlier, you said I cannot catalog my ingredients because it would draw attention. Now I could not even fix my hair with the knife because it would draw attention," Nyxis grinned knowingly. "Are you implying that everything I do has some sort of effect on the people around me? No one is even looking our way," he flicked his gaze around them as well. He shrugged and smoothed his hair off his forehead. "I know I am handsome and all, but I know how to disappear and blend in."
Reeca blinked. This little—no. Just...no. She rubbed her face, tamping the growing scream in her throat. "Just sit tight," she crossed her arms. She's not hearing anything more. "Look at some flowers or something."
Nyxis sighed and straightened on his seat. Reeca leaned back into hers from across the table. Rabante's fresh air tousled their hair, shaking the canopies shading this tavern from both the sun and from the prying eyes from shard fairies from the Upper Cities. Reeca inhaled and closed her eyes. At least Helinfirth had fresh air compared to the thick fog that was Carleon's ambience. It's...a nice change, for once.
Not too windy and not too sunny. This was the perfect weather for flying. Reeca glanced back at the bandaged mess of her wings behind her. Flying was out of the list, then. She heaved a heavy breath and looked at Nyxis who now pored at his nails, his foot tapping against the tavern's floor made of forest dirt. At least the human agreed to remove the stark white bandages and let her wings hang out in the open, passing for a healthy, colorful pair.
Reeca didn't need another thing to lie to Rhys about.
Nyxis had moved from his nails to watching the pale green grass blades growing on the forest floor with unmasked, eerie interest. Reeca sighed. If she hadn't bumped into him two days ago on his way back to Carleon, she wouldn't have known that her wings would need another week more before being back to their full functionality.
"Xanthy told me to move on so I was just dropping by Gulstead to pick something up," Nyxis had told Reeca. "But then, you need me to attend to your wings since I do not see Xanthy anywhere."
