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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Reeca closed her eyes. The memory of that night was vivid in her mind. It was during one of the times they ran out of food. They had to spend the rest of the night hungry until they could steal from the vendors again in the morning.
Reeca had curled up against Rhys, shivering against the raindrops on her skin. It had been raining for days. They holed up in a dark alley somewhere and Rhys managed to weave a roof above their heads. It wasn't enough to keep the water away.
Reeca might have been developing a high fever then and Rhys had begun to panic. She remembered how cold she felt and how weak her limbs were. Was it from the fever or the hunger? She didn't know. Life was harsh, back then.
Then, a figure loomed above them, wearing an elaborate robe with a hood that covered her face. She carried a strange lamp whose fire allured to Reeca. What's the harm for a little warmth? Reeca remembered thinking that to herself.
The figure bent down and set the lamp at her feet. Then, she proceeded to talk with Rhys.
Reeca had crawled closer to the flames. Her eyes traced its directions as it swayed with an imaginary wind as it burned and burned. It didn't seem to be consuming any oil or wax. Her hand had reached out and touched the glass pane. Then, she saw herself.
She was taller. Older. Some sort of battle raged around her. A sword swung and she parried it well. Then, an arrow hurtled from the sky and struck her straight at the back. Blood sprayed as she fell. Reeca gritted her teeth against the memory. She had remembered her scream and Rhys's voice trying to calm her down.
Little one, don't lose heart. You will not die. The figure's light, airy voice bled in Reeca's ears that night and to this day. It wasn't something she was bound to forget anytime soon.
Still, Reeca knew what she saw. It's the future. That's going to happen in the future. Of course, she didn't dare tell Rhys about it. Fear renewed its hunger on her stomach every time her thoughts slid back to it. Talking about the mysterious woman only brought it back, fresher than ever.
"...could be anyone," Rhys was saying. Nyxis was nodding along. "We still have no idea up to this day."
Nyxis tapped his chin in thought. "I see," he bobbed his head once more before inclining his head to Rhys's direction. "So now you are gallivanting around the island, trying to fulfill your prophecy of saving the island?"
Nyxis regarded Reeca after Rhys nodded. "Why did you not go back to Narfalk to search for your mother's secrets? I am sure she would have left traces there."
Rhys shook his head. "We are tracking her friends down," he glanced at Reeca to which she nodded. He already knew what their mother's friends were involved in after Reeca told him via the trailwhisperer. "We are sure they were in into some kind of a big conspiracy, wherever they are now."
Reeca clenched her hands on her lap. Phiaris, Marthiaq, Ezril, Jarvik, Anahel, Geradine, Kadra, Zeral, Eldan. They were looking for someone imprisoned somewhere.
