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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Reeca slammed her sword into the hard walls, generating nothing but a few sparks and vibrations travelling up her arms.
"It's no use," Elred rasped, leaning her head against the wall. "It's lesium. Aside from being generally indestructible, it blocks magic. Give it up."
Reeca shook her head. She still had a life to live, a brother to go back to, and a mission to fulfill. It would be cheating if she disappeared on Rhys without a word. A curse flew out of her mouth as she drew back once more. She had no plans of ending up in a rotting cell in her father's courts, not when Rhys already got her out once. Her feet scratched the cave's smooth floor as she raised her arms again and charged at the huge stone blocking their way.
Metal hit the rock in a shrill ting. Sparks flew but the rock remained immaculate with not a scratch present. Elred sighed. "You're going to burn us alive with those sparks," she snapped. "Sit down."
"Not a chance, you old hag," Reeca growled. She struck the wall again, succeeding in nothing but giving her sword an untimely sharpening. She called for her magic but no warmth answered her. Stupid magic-blocking cave. With a cry, she drove her foot back and slammed the tip of her boot into the rock.
Pain shot up her leg as she cursed like a portmaster. Eventually, she plopped down next to Elred. The shard fairy scoffed. "See? I told you to sit down before you do something crazy and end up hurting yourself," Elred crossed her arms. "You should have listened to me about lots of things."
Reeca shot Elred a withering glare. "Yeah, last time I listened to you, I ended up in a cell with magic-blocking walls."
"I'm not the one who tried to betray her friend," Elred narrowed her eyes at Reeca. "Why did you do it?"
Reeca matched Elred's stance. "I had to save myself," she rasped. "I have no intention of spending the rest of my life in prison with you. Besides, it's your mistake. It's your favor. I merely said the truth."
Something flickered in Elred's eyes. The shard fairy averted her eyes before Reeca could pinpoint what it was. Elred didn't speak. Reeca blew a breath. Perhaps it's the absence of her magic's comfort that's making her edgy. Or maybe it's the fact that she's doomed and there's nothing she could do about it.
What had happened, even?
She closed her eyes. Scenes faded in and out of her mind—Cirasa's face, the mass of soil and rocks, the graveyard of shards, and the map she had already forgotten. "It's so messed up," Reeca leaned her back against the cold ore wall and hugged her knees.
Elred tapped her fingers against her mud-encrusted boots. "War so often is."
Reeca glanced at Elred with a raised eyebrow. "This isn't war," she shook her head. "This is just failing."
"This is war whether you like it or not," Elred's stare on the purple ground could have burned a hole through it. "The thrones, the Virtakios, Synkteros, Cardovia. It's one hell of a war."
