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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Nyxis had spent the night working his ass off in the infirmary. His hands ached from crushing balwort leaf after balwort leaf to brew the necessary potions for the next day. Healers fluttered around him as the morning heat bore down at them.
Sweat poured at his back and dotted his forehead before spilling down to his chin in small droplets. His legs had turned stiff hours ago from standing too long and running around the inner quadrant to check on anyone who might need his help.
He hadn't slept at all. He wasn't even sure if he had eaten or not. Since the real battle started days ago, he couldn't remember the last time he relieved himself or closed his weary eyes to steal a few minutes of rest.
There was simply no time to do those things, not when there were so many who needed him to keep their own lives.
They rescued anyone, either from their own or from the enemy. Those he managed to save either chose to sit the war out inside the fortress or were now fighting on the front lines against their previous employer. Those who refused to ally with them either spent their time in the makeshift prison or worse, in the Land of Wonders.
This time in the morning, Nyxis rushed to the stocks to retrieve their supply of elany leaves. There seemed to be a large demand for the perennial shrub which Nyxis used to heal wounds made from flintlock bullets. They had run out of it in the inner quadrant so Nyxis had to dash to the center quadrant to fetch a jar that should make them another batch of a hundred vials.
He was just coming out of the center quadrant, holding the clay jar of frozen elany leaves, when his world sharpened, accompanied by a sharp pang spearing through his head. He fell against the gate, bracing his arm on the stable wood as his breathing turned ragged. Pain speared through his stomach that made him gag. What's going on? Was this because he hasn't slept for so long?
Nyxis gritted his teeth. This was not the time to collapse. His patients needed him. He pushed forward, fighting through his pulsing vision and his constricting chest. He made it to the infirmary and heard the commotion. Did someone die without him?
The pain in his head increased. The pit in his stomach deepened. Oh, gods...
"Nyxis!" one of the healers called urgently. Hands grasped his arm to steady him. "Denara is—"
Nyxis hurtled forward at the mention of her name. What happened to her?
He saw the center of the commotion. The jar slipped from his grasp. He didn't hear it slam into the dark earth as he surged towards the messenger frequenting the infirmary. On his arms lay a bloodied fairy he hasn't counted on seeing here. Denara...
Chest aching and tears flowing, Nyxis clawed his way towards the messenger. Some healers told him to stand down but their words were jumbled in his ears. He forced himself to examine Denara with a doctor's eye but his mind screamed one thing over and over. Death. Death. Death.
