SECOND BOOK OF THE CHRONICLES OF FANTASILIA SERIES
𝘈𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘨𝘶𝘦. 𝘈 𝘴𝘪𝘦𝘨𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘚𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘴. 𝘈 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘫𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧.
Xanthiene Vivenca, af...
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Xanthy chewed on her lip as she and her friends piled into another room, following the High Priestess through yet another soul door. The flash of light and the shifting surroundings had started to grow in on Xanthy.
Ezril moved past the tapestry-like maps that hung from the ceiling before settling in front of a row of mirrors. Was the High Priestess angry or tired? Sad? Xanthy couldn't tell. That blank stare tore through the maps marked with more Keijula squiggles, red lines to divide territories, and glow that turned the dimness of the room bearable.
Xanthy drew towards one map. Her eyes widened at the vast representation as she realized that it was only of Carleon. A throat cleared and Xanthy whirled to find her friends in front of the High Priestess. She jogged to join them and caught sight of the mirrors again. Her legs, that should have been reflected along with her movement, were nowhere to be found on the smooth surface. In fact, when she studied the mirrors next to it, she realized that neither of them reflected anything from this room.
Xanthy knitted her eyebrows. Mirrors didn't do that...right?
Cyrdel stepped forward. "May I speak now, Highest?"
" 'Ezril' would have been fine," the High Priestess splayed a hand in Cyrdel's direction.
Xanthy snorted inwardly. Knowing Cyrdel, it would probably take him a thousand years to be able to call the High Priestess that. "Highest," Cyrdel continued, confirming Xanthy's hypothesis. "My people need your help. Their shadows have been taken and you're the only one who could help us with your expertise in soul magic. We left Depandes yesterday and who knows how many had passed on to Pidmena's bosom due to this problem. We must act quickly if we are to save them."
"Why should I help you, young man?" Ezril's tone could have jabbed Xanthy's heart clean off her chest.
Cyrdel knitted his eyebrows. "Because the King and Queen are ill as well," he clasped his hands together in front of him. "Alkara has done no harm to Carleon. We are asking for the charity of your help as allies. We have helped you build your soul ports and you got your summoning elixirs from Penleth. All we ask is for you to help us in our present plight."
Ezril's face could have resembled the stones the Temple was built with. A strange memory of the priestess in the Temple of Magic leaped at the front of Xanthy's mind. Were all High Priestesses like that?
"Where are the shadows?" the High Priestess's tone was flat.
Cyrdel blinked. "Sorry? What shadows?"
"The ones that are taken," Ezril glanced at one of the maps before flicking her eyes back at Cyrdel's direction. "Where are they?"
"We..." Cyrdel glanced at Xanthy then at Ravalee before turning back to the High Priestess. "We don't know, Highest."
"Then I can't help you," Ezril tucked her hands inside her wide sleeves. She turned away from them completely. "The shadows can't be summoned just like the other parts of the soul. If you are to bind them once again to its owner, the shadow must first be released from the spell containing it. If you can't produce the shadows, then there's little I can do."
