2412 Strilaxis 4, Briss

Xanthy's head was being roasted in a fireplace.

Her eyes flitted behind her lids, browsing through the memories spearing through her mind like a plucked bowstring. Faces familiar but not quite flashed in her mind in a montage of what's supposed to be her life before the Disfavoreds.

Curiously, she didn't know which of those faces were her parents'.

The scene swirled and shifted until Xanthy was standing at the foyer of her Disfavored house. Sunlight she couldn't feel shone through the hole June tore into the roof. A smile tickled the corner of her lips. It had been a long time.

Everything was in their place as Xanthy remembered it. Even the fretboard was missing from the pile.

About time.

Xanthy whirled to the source of the voice until she came face to face with...herself. Except it couldn't be because she didn't have luscious, waist-length hair and fancy sand brown robes.

Not-Xanthy blinked her chestnut brown eyes at Xanthy. The button nose wrinkled. She raised her hand in an awkward wave. Hello.

Xanthy flinched and recoiled. Holy gods of Calaris.

The voice echoed in Xanthy's skull, mimicking a draft blowing through her ears. Cool, soft, and calm. Unlike Xanthy's hoarse and cutting diction.

This wasn't her. It was someone else. Why did they have the same face, though?

It shouldn't be such as a surprise after what you went through, Not-Xanthy pouted. Then, she shook her head, Xanthy narrowed her eyes. So that was what she looked like when she's shaking her head. Well, that's...a strange thing to see.

Xanthy cleared her throat. Even in dreams, the grating sound at the back of her throat felt so real. "Do you have a name?"

I'm Ravalee, the girl crossed her arms with a smile. Ravalee Vivenca.

That name again. Xanthy's supposed family name. Did that mean they're sisters? Twins?

"Why do you look like me?" Xanthy squinted. "Are we related?"

Ravalee snorted. Related? she waved her hand in front of her face before facing Xanthy. We're the same soul, silly.

Xanthy's guts tightened. Souls? She blinked.

You're familiar with the parts of the soul, correct? Ravalee slapped her forehead and braced her hips.

Xanthy nodded. "June mentioned them some time ago," she tapped her chin. "Uh, there's the form, the shadow, the legacy, and trail and uh...that weird thing."

Synnavaim, Ravalee supplied.

"Yeah."

Ravalee sighed. We're from one soul that once had all that, her throat bobbed when she swallowed. After our parents performed the soul split—

"Soul split?"

It's a spell, Ravalee rolled her eyes. They used that to chop off our souls into two. You have the synnavaim. I get the others.

Xanthy pursed her lips. "If I have the synnavaim, then what's yours?"

Ravalee grinned. That's where it gets interesting, she threw her hair back. It seemed like as we spend time apart from each other, our souls found ways to compensate. I developed my own synnavaim. And with the Vikrtakios, you developed your own shadow, legacy, and trail.

"And the form?"

It's the only thing we have in common, Ravalee smoothed her robes. But even that can be different too, right?

Xanthy's hand ran through her sheared, dry locks. Her finger twisted a lock of hair around. "Yeah," she nodded. "I guess."

After a moment, Xanthy cocked her head to the side, her eyebrows meeting. "Can this be undone?" she gestured vaguely between the two of them.

Ravalee's face darkened. She sighed. I've combed through every book about spells but I don't think there's a way.

Xanthy stuck her bottom lip out. Ravalee inhaled sharply. I mean, it would be impossible because we're already two different with different memories and lives. Not to mention the theoretical and ethical implications of—

"Okay, that's enough," Xanthy splayed her hand in Ravalee's face. Something itched at the back of her mind. Yeah, Ravalee might know something about it.

"What about our parents?" Xanthy met the eyes that reflected back her own. "Do you know anything about them?"

Aside from performing the soul split on us? No, Ravalee shook her head. Marthiaq only told me that we can't see them. Airene wouldn't tell me anything either.

"Airene?" Xanthy stepped forward. "Is she somehow related to Airlene? The one that appeared in my memories?"

Ravalee raised her eyebrows like this was old news. They're sisters. Mom was theirs, too.

So...

"They're our aunts?" Xanthy blinked.

Yes, Ravalee confirmed.

Xanthy scoffed and mussed her hair. "Why can't they just tell me that from the start?" she started pacing. "Why bother erasing my memories?"

Because unlike me who can blend in with normal brownies, you are the Virtakios, Ravalee said. I know our parents couldn't risk losing you to other people.

Marthiaq said the same thing. So, everything Xanthy went through and everything she had opened her eyes to were all decided for her just because of what she was. What should she feel about that?

She stopped pacing. "Why are you even here?" she asked.

Our connection was tapped when the Queen triggered your synnavaim, Ravalee bit her lip much like how Xanthy thought she did. Then, you broke through the restrictions around the synnavaim so that allowed me to break through and pull your consciousness before you go insane.

Xanthy shivered. "Thanks," she muttered. "For some reason, I don't remember what happened at the tower."

Yes, you've entered a state of shock back there, Ravalee said.

"Do you know?"

Ravalee shook her head. I only felt it, she scratched the back of her neck. To think that the ripples caused by that magic could be felt all the way to Alkara...

A shiver passed through Ravalee's shoulders.

Xanthy pursed her lips. "Alkara?" The word sounded so strange to her tongue. She clenched and unclenched her fists. "Adresin called me a Brownie, too. Is that what I am?"

Ravalee nodded. We're Brownies, yes, she replied. Marthiaq, too.

Another memory speared through Xanthy's mind. "That thing he did at the tunnels," Xanthy faced Ravalee. "He made my body invisible."

Ah, yes, Ravalee clicked her tongue. One of the possible Brownie synnavaimis is Vanishing. Fairies with this synnavaim can touch objects imbued with trails and influence those trails to blend with the other trails around it. It's amazing magic.

"Can you do that?"

Ravalee shook her head. No, she ran a hand to her temples. I specialize in another type of Brownie synnavaim—thought manipulation. It's mostly used in the Temple for memory healing but...I'm a special case.

Xanthy frowned. "So you...manipulate thoughts?"

I deal with everything concerning the mind, Ravalee explained, tapping her temple. Memories, thoughts, emotions.

Ah.

"And me?" Xanthy pinched her lips in a thin line.

Who knows? Ravalee shrugged. You might discover it as you learn magic.

Xanthy pouted. "So, you don't know what happened in the tower, either? To the Queen?" she choked. "To Jarvik?"

Ask your friends, Ravalee said. They know.

Xanthy's gut tied itself to knots. Did her friends make it through alive? Wait, was she even? She knitted her eyebrows when she realized something. "Wait, how come you know so much about me?"

Ravalee pursed her lips. Was that guilt glinting in her eyes. I looked through your memories.

Xanthy coughed. "Excuse me?"

I took a quick peek, Ravalee shifted from one foot to another.

"Why would you do that?" Xanthy demanded. She felt exposed.

Ravalee rolled her shoulders. Can't shut a Brownie for a penny.

"What?"

Ravalee waved her hand. Idiom. Expression. Means Brownies are curious about everything.

Oh.

You're waking up. Ravalee glanced behind her as if that meant something. Go to Alkara if you wish. I will be waiting for you.

"How am I supposed to reach out when I get there?" Xanthy extended her arm as Ravalee stepped back.

I'll find you, don't worry. Ravalee's face faded from her eyes. What—?

"Wait!" Xanthy called.

Until next time, Xanthy.

Xanthy's eyes opened to a view of a smooth, white ceiling. A small gasp erupted from her lips. She blinked. Where was this?

Her back registered a soft mattress, her arms, a fleece blanket. Light filtered through the gray curtains drawn over windows to her left. The scent of sweet incense whipped in the air. Beds clad with white linen sheets were arranged in a neat array around the room. Some contained sleeping bodies while some had blankets tossed in a hurry.

Xanthy turned her head to one side and saw June on the bed beside her. White hair spilled from his head and blended with the sheets. His eyes were closed; his chest heaved lightly. Alive. They're both alive.

Xanthy breathed. The pain on her spine had faded. She pursed her lips and rolled her ankle. No pain. That's...awesome. Whoa.

A door creaked open and footsteps scratched against the stone floor. The High Priestess, followed by an entourage of priestesses. Each one was dressed in gray tunics. As always, the High Priestess carried an air of authority with her dark robes.

"I see that you are awake," the High Priestess stopped at her bedside, giving Xanthy a perfect view up her nostrils. "You have been out of a day."

Xanthy winced. Oh. "Where was everyone?" Her throat rivaled the desert. She coughed.

Without a word, the High Priestess turned to her entourage and plucked a palm-sized orb from one of the priestess' trays. Xanthy squirmed under her covers.

"This is an ydinshin," the High Priestess hefted the orb between her fingers. "I will now examine the state of your magic."

Xanthy swallowed, grimacing as what's left of her saliva scratched against her throat. The High Priestess bent down and held the orb inches from Xanthy's nose. A silver pendant dangled from her neck. Xanthy's eyes tracked a strange symbol that looked like two lines crossed together.

The High Priestess peered at the orb at her palms. Xanthy watched colors flashed through the surface. From a deep green, it changed to a deep blue before settling into a dull yellow.

"Your magic is stable," the High Priestess drew away and placed the orb back into the priestess' tray. "Your synnavaim has settled quite nicely as well."

"What happened?" Xanthy sat up with a groan. Her hair spilled to her shoulders.

The High Priestess raised an eyebrow. "Some kind of rysteme spell frayed your soul by bringing it out of the body," she explained with her hands clasped behind her. "The way it is handled as it was returned to the body is also unexemplary, causing a disturbance with how you perceive magic."

Xanthy bit her lip.

"Not to worry," the High Priestess laid a hand on Xanthy's shoulder. She stared at the band wrapping around the High Priestess' fingers, counting five. Warmth seeped to her shoulder. It felt almost...caring. "You should be fine now."

"Thank you, High Priestess," Xanthy muttered.

"Call me Ymbril," the High Priestess said softly. Xanthy raised her eyes to her to find a small smile on her lips.

Huh.

Xanthy nodded. Ymbril gave her a light pat before eroding her features into that of her hard, passive expression.

"The others are waiting for you," Ymril folded her hands in front of her. "I will take my leave."

Xanthy ducked her head as the High Priestess turned away to trudge to another bed. Whispered conversation rang in Xanthy's ears like fleeting ringing. She was...alive.

Her breath hitched when her hand brushed against her ear. Oh, no. Ymbril knew...right? Yet, she still treated Xanthy. She dared touch Xanthy's shoulder.

Xanthy turned to June who slept on the bed beside hers. The High Priestess even let a half-blood inside the Temple.

All her life, she was taught that Humans were the good race and that fairies and half-bloods were set out to destroy them. For the longest time, Xanthy thought she was Human, too. She stared at her hands. The absence of blood and grime coating her fingers jarred her for a few seconds.

Then, she smiled. There had been a time when she felt disgusted by what she was. But now...

Fairies, humans, half-bloods. It didn't matter. Everyone deserved to live.

Xanthy clenched her fists. That didn't mean she could live with the fact that she was...the other thing. The Virtakios. She won't rest until she knew what happened to the Queen. Why was everyone hesitant to tell her?

It's strange.

Xanthy sighed and swung her legs off the bed. Her bare feet slapped the cold, stone floor. She eyed the door and set her lips in a thin line. It's time to find answers.