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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Xanthy caught herself staring at the man called Ralei for the fifth time. She averted her gaze to a young girl in pigtails sitting beside him. Even then, the girl was...weird. In fact, as Rhys was explaining to them the situation and their reason—June had asked Xanthy to step back and she had begrudgingly agreed—she found herself studying the group who called themselves the Cutlasses.
Lufi, the woman who greeted Xanthy upon emerging from the sirtya, sat beside Ariden, running some type of rock against the blade of her dagger. Each motion produced a sharp shriek, sending sparks flying dully to the wooden floor. Xanthy half-expected a fire to suddenly blaze as if Seravel's throne decided to follow them here.
Ariden, himself, sat comfortably inside their shack of a hideout. He nodded along to Rhys, his corn silk yellow hair bobbing with every motion. In the dim light, his tan skin looked even darker. His scrawny frame became more noticeable with Ralei sitting next to him.
It's almost impossible to miss the big guy seated beside the heir. He had his own makeshift bench but even that barely stayed straight as it carried his weight. Various scars marred his arms and face and even the dim ambience couldn't hide them.
Beside him was a girl who called herself Faw when prompted for an introduction. Ariden had to add that Faw was their master thief. There's nothing that she couldn't steal, nothing that she couldn't get her hands on. Faw's almost dark blue hair was parted into two tails, secured by wires twisted together. Various accessories ranging from clips, barrettes, pins, and a comb decorated her head. No one gave the girl's colorful hair a second look. They're used to it, then.
Two men who looked the same sat beside Faw. Cohnal and Aeril. Twins apparently. They both watched the small girl twist a clip plucked from her collection a number of times. She transformed it from a hair accessory to a contraption similar to a key. Next to them and to Rhys's right sat the spy, Tria.
Xanthy eyed the silent fairy clad from head to toe in camouflage cloth with only a cut for the eyes. Tria sat in a rigid stance, barely looking at Rhys as he explained the Heiress and the Sovereign.
The cutlasses were dressed in an assortment of earth sprite garments overlaid with various kinds of rock-plated armor Xanthy had observed the guards at the Temple wore. Weapons decorated slots at their belts and their boots while swords lay perpendicular to the benches beside them.
Xanthy craned her neck up at the shack's ceiling. It's a shack, alright, especially when it reminded her of Viscount Shalt's house back in Cardina. The Disfavoreds called it The Shack and the old man didn't seem to mind to the point that the name stuck around.
The roof, shaped like a cone, towered over them in its patched-mud-and-dried-leaves glory, perched atop an enclosure of wooden walls. Bunches of dried straw were strewn around, hanging on planks supporting the ceiling, splattered against the walls, and stuck on some splinters on the wooden floor boards. The musty air tickled Xanthy's nose.
