Ezril turned the maximizer in her hand, her lips pressed into a thin line that curled downward at the edges. Cyrdel twiddled his fingers the whole while that Ravalee had to take his hands into hers to still them.

Xanthy turned to her left and did a double take. The tome of the Soul Spells was propped back to its pedestal. Around the Forbidden Room, traces of damages done by both Xanthy and Marin were cleaned up. If the event wasn't engraved in Xanthy's mind, she could swear that it didn't happen just by being back in this room.

"Knowledge should be given to anyone who seeks it," the High Priestess had said when Xanthy asked her about the absence of guards or security spells around the Soul Spells.

So much for calling it the Forbidden Room, then. It wasn't even a room.

Ezril passed the maximizer to Xanthy. She whirled to the High Priestess, her mouth partially opening. "Reverse it," Ezril said before Xanthy could ask.

"Sorry?" Xanthy blinked at the weight of the maximizer upon her palms as if she wasn't just wrestling for it a few hours ago.

Ezril sighed and tucked her hands inside her sleeves. "If Cyrdel is right about that thing, there's a spell stored inside it and that's what's holding the shadows back," the High Priestess jerked her at the device in Xanthy's hands. "Release the spell and I'll get to work from there."

Oh. Okay.

A sigh escaped from her lips as she brought the maximizer close to her face. Her eyes scanned the mechanisms, understanding exactly how this lump of gears and ores could do the great damage that it did. Warmth flooded her veins as she closed her eyes and called forth her magic. She blew a breath again and tapped into the Virtakios raging inside her.

"Reverse," she chanted, pouring her magic into the maximizer. Something cracked and guttural howls mixed in the air as the maximizer quivered in her hands. Hundreds, thousands of silky substances shot out from the device before flying out in a dozen different directions. When one touched Xanthy's skin, shivers crawled up her arms. Tortured shrieks, whimsical laughs, and haunting voices overlapped with each other as the shadows turned the air into a dark landscape as if the fog from the outside had made it into the Forbidden Room.

Xanthy and her friends ducked as the shadows flew around in a haze. One darted for Reeca's head and the varichria squealed as she ducked. Everyone froze. Reeca never squealed.

Right green light shone from the center of the room. Xanthy whirled to find Ezril having her fingertips pressed against each other by her chest. The High Priestess' eyes were shut. The Soul Spells was open in the High Priestess' hands and ancient words floated above the various voices and howls.

The shadows whirled faster and faster until Ezril shut the tome. Like a smoke being blown by the wind, the dark flurry of soul parts faded with its final, howling whisper. The green light faded as Ezril opened her eyes and regarded the silence that followed with the shadows' disappearance.

"You can keep those," the High Priestess regarded Ravalee. Xanthy whirled to find her half already clutching more than five books in her arms. Xanthy offered Ezril the maximizer which the High Priestess promptly took. Then, Ezril turned to Cyrdel and pressed the maximizer into Cyrdel's hand. "Take this and don't let it fall into anyone's hands but yours."

Cyrdel nodded with a grim expression. They all knew what would happen if the maximizer fell into Cardovia's hands once more.

Ezril drew away from them. From her sleeves, she drew what looked like a blue stone that glittered against the Forbidden Room's dim light. "Go back to Alkara quickly," Ezril instructed Cyrdel as she pressed the stone into the prince's palm. "It will be chaos once the shadows go back to their owners. They will need you."

With that, Ezril led them out of the Forbidden Room and down into the First of the Upper. Xanthy glanced at the altar and smiled at the serzhakis dusting Pidmena's statue. It took Xanthy a long time before processing that they were alive. They had survived. Everything's fine.

For now, at least.

Cyrdel's glow returned at the prospect of going back home. He bounced on his way out of the altar room before stopping at the lip of the stairs. He turned to Xanthy and gave her one of the warmest smiles she ever saw the prince muster. Ravalee, with her long hair tied in a hurried bun, sidled next to Cyrdel and hugged him. Xanthy stood beside Ezril watching the two of them.

Then, Cyrdel stalked towards Xanthy and did something that shocked her.

He threw his arms around her.

Xanthy's eyes widened. Was this okay...? A glance at Ravalee's proud, smiling face told her that it was. Xanthy wrapped her arms around Cyrdel's waist just to return the gesture. No funny business.

"We wouldn't have made it without you," Cyrdel said when she drew away from Xanthy. "Thank you."

Xanthy smiled as Cyrdel's energy bled into her. "That's what friends do," she took a deep breath. "You don't need to thank me. If anything I should be the one thanking you."

Cyrdel dipped his head as he stepped back. "You'll have a brownie's vow," he put a hand to his chest. "I swear it to Daexis' name—call unto Alkara and the Sonasson family and I will help you. Always."

The wind that blew across the courtyard carried no confirmation but Xanthy understood the gravity of that promise. Goddess or no goddess, a promise was a promise.

Xanthy dipped her head as well. "Thank you, Your Highness," she met Cyrdel's eyes as she straightened. "Call upon the Virtakios and I will answer, as well. I swear it upon Daexis's name."

Cyrdel's eyes widened then he nodded. "I accept that," he tucked his hands inside the pockets of his coveralls.

Xanthy waved at her friends. "Have a safe journey," she cocked her head to the side. "Will you be alright having to lead the brownies for a while? I know you hate Council meetings."

Cyrdel tousled his hair with a sigh. "I'll have to make do," he craned his neck to the sky before regarding Xanthy once more. "I won't turn my back on my people. Cochraim taught me as much."

Xanthy could have snorted at that. She wasn't the only one who had learned from their tests, then. Ravalee hugged her, or rather, squeezed the air out of her after that.

I'll connect whenever I can or whenever you let me, Ravalee said in Xanthy's mind. Take care of yourself.

Xanthy, with her chin propped against Ravalee's shoulder, thought back, I will, if you teach me how you do that connection thing.

Ravalee chuckled. Figure it out on your own.

That's unfair, Xanthy snorted out loud. Come on, teach me.

They broke apart just to see Ravalee mouth, No, with a playful smile. Xanthy scoffed and shook her head but a smile never left her lips. She watched Ravalee and Cyrdel join their hands together. The brownies strode a few paces forward before brandishing the blue stone, whatever that was. They gave Xanthy and Ezril one last nod. In a flash of light and not a blink later, they were gone.

"Lovely, aren't they?" Ezril said without turning to Xanthy. "Those two will go a long way."

Xanthy stared at the foggy mountains and the line of multi-colored canopies characteristic of a typical morning in Carleon. "Yeah, they will," she said softly. There wasn't even a bit of envy twisting in her gut. Still, it sucked.

Ezril studied Xanthy's face with a raised eyebrow. "You're upset."

Xanthy wasn't surprised. Banshees could read her soul and there's nothing she could do about it. It's what they do, genius, she thought to herself, remembering Sorina's words in her head.

Xanthy shrugged. "Ravalee won't teach me how to reach out to her with my mind. She does it all the time to me. Why can't I?"

"It may be out of my field here with the mind and memory being brownie things," Ezril tucked her hands inside her sleeves again. "But know this. You have a connection. Draw on that. That's the most probable way of reaching her."

"Why can't Ravalee reach me when we're in the Disfavoreds?" Xanthy faced the High Priestess with the question she had been dying to ask after everything had calmed down. "It wasn't until I broke some sort of barrier inside my head. What's the deal about it? About my soul?"

Ezril peered at Xanthy with her bright yellow eyes. "Airene has explained that already," she heaved a light breath. "As for the barrier, Airese, your mother, put it and Ravalee so that you wouldn't attempt to contact each other before you reach the right age. It's just too dangerous."

"Children are troublesome when distracted, scared, or when they know things they shouldn't," Ezril's scoff told Xanthy that she was speaking from personal experience. "We took the liberty of barring your mind from Ravalee. Once you're powerful enough to break through it, you did."

"How come you know what happened?" Xanthy knitted her eyebrows.

"I was the one who split your soul."

Xanthy's jaw fell. "What—?"

"Airene talked me into it," Ezril sighed again. "Came to the Temple in desperation. She said I will be helping in a grand plan to save the world. I knew better. I saw her soul, got a read on her motives. She wanted to save you because somehow, you're special. Later, I understood. You're the Virtakios. They think of you as their and the world's savior."

Xanthy narrowed her eyes at sensing Ezril's disagreement. "Well, aren't I?"

Ezril shook her head. "I know of that prophecy," she shook her head. "I knew every verse. What you know isn't complete. There's more to it than being a savior."

Xanthy braced her hips with her hands. "Such as?"

"Such as describing that the Virtakios have been brought to this world because of the growing chaos. There will be a great war against kin. At the middle of it all is the Virtakios," the High Priestess gazed up at the sky as if the stars could give her the answers to everything.

Ezril's eyes hardened. "The verses talked about a choice and then ultimately to Virtakios's role. They said you'll be our savior but somewhere along the verses, they also said that you'll be the reason for our destruction."

Xanthy's throat went dry. "Can you tell me more?"

Ezril whirled back to Xanthy before tapping a finger to her forehead. An image of a parchment where the prophecy was written popped into her head. Her mind went through it until her eyes strayed to the last lines.

In her greatness, she will save us when we call
In her folly, she will see through our fall

Xanthy frowned as soon as the image blinked out of her mind. "So that's it? I'm not wholly a savior? I have a choice?"

"Every breathing person has a choice, Xanthiene. Never forget that," Ezril turned away from Xanthy and back into the open nature before them. The wind shuffled the High Priestess' loose, silver hair. "There's no such thing as absolute destiny. We've all been given a choice. Even at birth, you chose to accept the Virtakios."

Xanthy knit her eyebrows, realizing that the High Priestess just called her by her name. "How can you be sure of that? I don't want to be...this."

"I split your soul because I believe that you'll do the right thing," Ezril held up her hand. "You'll choose to be our savior even when you don't want to. That's my hope."

Xanthy crossed her arms and shook her head. "You're hoping on candles, Ezril," she said, recalling the phrase Lebayou used multiple times in their numerous conversations. Perhaps, it's used in contexts like this? "I don't even know what choices I will make the hour after this."

It's true though. She couldn't avoid June forever. Not when she still needed his help with a lot of things. Beside her, Ezril inclined her head at Xanthy. "Is it wrong to have faith?"

Xanthy sighed. "I'm just saying that you're wasting it on me."

"You helped us," Ezril shrugged.

"I did, yeah," Xanthy twisted a lock of her hair with her fingers before tucking it behind her ear. "But that can't be your ground for your belief. Maybe I'll never be at your side the next time."

"You're giving yourself too little credit."

"I don't know myself enough," Xanthy bounced at the balls of her feet. Why was she even this jittery? "I don't know the things I will do, the choices I'm bound to make. I don't even know if my moral code is right. I'm not so sure of myself so I can't promise you anything."

The High Priestess put her hands on Xanthy's shoulders and turned her so that she was forced to face the banshee. "Every time you make a choice," Ezril's voice was stern and gentle at the same time. "Think about those who put their hope in you. You maybe a bit unsure of yourself, but those who believe in you will never waver. That's what the Virtakios does to us. It drives to believe that there's still something good in this world."

Xanthy wrenched her eyes away as Ezril dropped her hands to her side. "Reeca told me what happened in the throne room," she changed the subject. She didn't know how much of this talk of destiny and choice could she stomach. "Why didn't you all disappear when the throne was destroyed?"

"A throne isn't a chair," Ezril tucked her hands inside her wide sleeves yet again. "It's something where the hopes of the people are. It's where the synnavaimis go after serving their purpose in this world. It's what makes us a race and what holds a true representation of our identity. So, I ask you: what object makes us banshees?"

What makes a race a race? Realization slammed into Xanthy's mind. Of course. "The Soul Spells," Xanthy blinked then knitted her eyebrows before whirling to the High Priestess. Had Xanthy just spent moments of her life throwing that time around? "That's the throne?"

For an answer, Ezril exhaled through her nose with an amused smile and winked.

Drodham is a city in Carleon where the Temple of Souls is located. Considered the seat of power and the territory's capital, this is the home of the High Priestess and a quarter of the Banshee population seeking refuge and employment in the Temple. This is the end of the Pilgrim Road that cuts through the mountains. It is derived from the Ancient words drode hamzari which means "great mountain".